#so. fuzzy latte is real now but just a little bit

[cordycepsbian]

"the ultimate immortal guardian" ok. what if it was a parent though,

[foxymoxynoona]

Lone Blue Egg (Pt 1)

Header and banners by the talented @awrkives

Summary: Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC Book 1 in the Birdtan Series

CW/TAGS: humor, drama, angst, cringe, explicit sex, toy play/toy uh obsession?, oviposition, ice cubes, porn, cam girls and masturbation, oral (both), edging, semi-public shenanigans, mammoth condoms, specism, language, theft

Read on AO3 or below

MASTERLIST | Next

Jungkook slumped down in his seat at the cafe. The tables against the window and wall had all been taken when he got here today, so he’d had no choice but to claim a padded chair right in the middle of the cafe, right by the walkway. He felt exposed like this, like he stood out. He felt massive in the middle of this cafe, even though he’d taken his coat off and stuffed it between his legs and kept his sketchpad and Switch case in a neat pile on the small table. He kept his head down, neck burrowed into the thick neckline of his fuzzy grey sweater and hands pulled into his sleeves to cushion his palms from the heat of his cinnamon latte. He kept slipping one hand into the front pouch of his sweater to hold onto his comfort glass egg tucked safely inside, warmed by his body heat.

He knew there were people staring at him. That’s why he didn’t like to sit at these tables. At least if he was in his usual corner, no matter if someone stared at him, there was a whole case of bagged coffee beans and a newspaper stand and ideally even another table before anyone would actually be able to reach him or talk to him. He didn’t come to the cafe to be talked to, he came here to just exist around other people in a controlled manner before he went home. He actually really loved his engineering job and the healthcare company he worked for, but he spent most of his days alone in his cubicle, eavesdropping on the more exciting conversations around him. He’d go home to his room in the shared apartment in a large building and often as not, be alone again, unless Yoongi or Taehyung were around and up for something. Taehyung barely seemed to land these days though and Yoongi was going through a nocturnal phase. 

Ok, maybe Jungkook was lonely. Nothing new. And he just wanted to get to exist around a group of people he could pretend he had a connection with for a while without actually having to interact in a way that broke the myth. They were just a bunch of cool people who all liked warm coffee beverages on a cool autumn day. 

But the problem was, these weren’t his people. None of them. If they were, he wouldn’t be scrolling not one but two matchmaking apps. White Tie Suit was the more sophisticated of the two, promising to help young single penguins find their life partner. Dive worried less about the lifelong and more about the nightlong, a quick hookup app that made no promises about whether you’d find someone actually worth taking home for the Holidays. Jungkook had been active on both for a number of years he did not feel like recalling, and while he’d managed to eke some hookups out of them, certainly nothing lasting. Probably he’d have better luck if he lived closer to home but… well… this was home now. For now. Unless he just hit his limit for loneliness… 

“Excuse me.” Jungkook looked up. He’d been so busy thumb-scrolling and lamenting his unreturned “right-flaps” that he hadn’t prepared himself for the approach. This was the problem when you were exposed on all sides, it was too hard to monitor threat vs. non-threat. He looked up and didn’t think this woman was a threat. But maybe she was. 

“Hi,” Jungkook said as a cold sweat broke out down his spine. Oh. Wow. She was very pretty. He sat up in his chair, rolling his shoulders back, lifting his chin. He pitched his voice as low as he could. “Nice to meet you.”

She shirked her shoulders cutely and pointed, “Is that chair taken?”

“No, have a seat,” he quickly gestured. Fuck. Fuck, this was an unexpected turn. 

“Thank you,” she said, and picked up the chair and carried it over to the other table. Where she sat down and promptly leaned in to kiss her girlfriend.

Jungkook hated it here.

He gave up on the cafe, bundled his things in his arms, and went to ask for a carry-out cup for his untouched drink. And an ice cube because it was too hot to drink.

His latte cup was empty by the time he got home, chugged a bit too quickly as he had to catch a crowded bus. Seal. He could smell it, somewhere further back, but couldn’t see over the heads. That made it worse, even though rationally he knew someone with seal DNA was not going to just fucking attack him in the middle of a crowded bus. Well, it could happen, but it was rare. Just like Jungkook wasn’t going to go bite someone with mackerel in their blood. The same, right? Except seals were always total assholes, unlike penguins.

At least the stop was just outside of his building, a birds-only housing development, though it didn’t mean asshole free. Jungkook hated this building, which was as noisy and active as a frat house at all hours of the day. Taehyung liked that, and it was the first place they’d found that had two single-room vacancies in a multi-unit, which was all either could afford at the time. Now Jungkook could afford significantly more but… what was the point? Sure, he could move into a single unit somewhere, or even buy his own place outright in the suburbs but that was pointless without a partner. In fact, buying the wrong place could cost him a partner, if he picked a place they didn’t like… Besides, he’d be alone in a bigger place which wasn’t necessarily any better than being packed in with people he didn’t like. He hadn’t liked everyone at home either, even when they were all penguins. Maybe he just didn’t fit anywhere...

“Hey, chickie,” Chad greeted the second Jungkook walked through the door. Chad. He was a fucking blue-jay named Chad, how gross could you get? Jungkook ignored him and separated the pieces of his coffee cup into the sorted bins. He could see the beer bottles in one had not been rinsed out. “You cooking dinner tonight?”

“Not for you,” Jungkook said, stepping around him.

“It’s your turn.”

“We don’t take turns cooking.”

“It’s his turn, right?” Chad called to Steven. 

“Yep.”

“You’re a seagull, you don’t say anything but yep,” Jungkook retorted.

“Aw, chickie’s feelings are hurt?”

Jungkook bit back the retort, well aware what they were trying to get him to say, what he had accidentally snapped one time and sealed his fate: I’m not a chick, I’m a cock. It was true. He was an adult. 

Chad and Steven laughed anyway. They knew he’d thought it. He might as well have said it. 

“Hey fuck off, make your own food,” Yoongi said, shuffling right between them. He opened the fridge and blinked at the light before closing it and looking at the counter. 

“It’s his turn,” Chad frowned. Hurt. Because it hurt when Yoongi told you to fuck off, even if you were a bluejay named Chad. The soup he made when you were sick was just too healing, even Chad and Steven respected him. Didn’t hurt that barn owls had been known to eat even adult blue-jays. Not the people obviously, and yet Taehyung had an actual tally on the whiteboard in his room for how many times Yoongi managed to unintentionally sneak up on Chad and make him squeak or drop whatever he was holding. 

“It’s not--” Jungkook began but Yoongi interrupted, “It’s fine, I’ll cook. Transfer me money,” he told Chad and Steven. “Ok day at work?” he asked Jungkook. It flattered him, to be asked.

“It was ok,” he mumbled. Chad and Steven had whipped out their phones, willing to pay Yoongi for the service they demanded from Jungkook. They couldn’t actually bully him around; he didn’t do what they said ever. If it came to blows he was definitely faster and stronger than both of them. He just didn’t want it to come to blows. He didn’t feel like fighting anyone. He was tired. He just wanted things to be easy and quiet.

“I’ll cook with you,” he said to Yoongi. “Let me put my stuff down. Did you sleep all day?”

“Yeah. I’ll keep it down tonight,” he promised. The late-night music never bothered Jungkook though and he brushed it off. Maybe it would be different if Yoongi sucked, but his compositions were always incredible. Jungkook actually preferred he use the speakers if he was working on the keyboard, so he could hear the actual music instead of just the keys clicking. 

“I don’t care, hyung. I’ll cook with you and you can tell me what you’re working on.”

“Yeah sure,” Yoongi said. “Get my sauce basket.” Jungkook was flattered to be asked this as well, to even be entrusted with its location in his room. The sauce basket was kept there, instead of the kitchen, to prevent late night cooking attempts by Chad and Steven who did not and should not cook, especially with Yoongi’s high end materials. 

Cooking with Yoongi was a definite improvement to his day. He didn’t even totally hate eating with Chad and Steven, even though Steven constantly stole things from his plate unasked. Chad, much more possessive with his plate, nearly stabbed Steven with a fork when he did it to him, so that was exciting.

Taehyung got home in time to steal the last bit of food and bully Chad and Steven into helping with the dishes. It left Jungkook free to escape, now maxed out with people interactions for the day. There. He’d been social. Maybe not social with the kind of people who were easy, but it did mean that now he appreciated closing his bedroom door with the world outside.

Besides, he’d gotten a phone alert and didn’t want to be too late. 

His hands fumbled with anticipatory energy as he quickly lowered his blinds and locked the door and switched to the rippling blue LEDs placed around the room. For a moment he paused and just let out the deep breath he’d held all day. Maybe it was silly how quickly just lights could relax him but he felt happily submerged in peace here. 

Right, the appointment. He set his glass egg carefully in a little crate he had for it on his desk. He nearly dropped his laptop in his haste to grab it from his nightstand and clear a space also on his desk. He almost used the desktop but no, he wanted the flexibility to move to the bed if things went well. He fired it up and barely remembered to plug his headphones in before navigating to the site link.

“... so I promised to do that because it’s something highly requested,” PattyPussy25 said into the camera. She sat cross-legged on her bed, wearing an incredibly sexy flowy black lingerie set. The camera quality wasn’t the best but Patty’s personality was so cute and quirky, Jungkook still liked her. He did! He admitted it, even though she was a platypus. It wasn’t like she actually looked like a platypus. Or like genetic preferences could pick up on the species gap through a fucking computer screen.

He used to only watch penguin girls. It just seemed the natural choice since, you know, that’s what he was looking for in life. Hoping for. Replacing with fantasy until he could find the real thing. But there weren’t many of them. The one he liked the best had found a mate and stopped streaming, and the one he liked second best… well, he still watched her, but when he’d bought her the gift through her support shop, she’d disappointed him.

So he’d branched out, first to other birds, and now even to other animals. It wasn’t a big deal, right? There were totally people who mated outside their species and it wasn’t illegal or anything, just a little odd. Like why couldn’t you find a mate within your own species? You tended to see it more with hybrids who weren’t lifelong monogamous. You were really signing yourself up for some culture shock maybe if you were going to be lifelong with someone totally different than you and your family.

But he was a penguin. Serial monogamous, not lifelong monogamous. Honestly he couldn’t really imagine committing to anyone for that long for real, though he had his romantic dreams like anyone else. If you could at least find a nice long for right now, why not dream it would be so good you were happy with it for life?

When Adelaide12 disappointed him with the toy though, he began clicking through other channels. Too many cat girls and dog girls and dolphin girls but it was almost nicer to be interested in a more niche space to give him some direction in a sea of hot women. Quickly and unsurprisingly, he realized the mainstream mammals wouldn’t get it. Egg laying hybrids would come through for him, even if Adelaide12 hadn’t. 

HornyTori was the first camgirl he’d actually subscribed to for real. She was one of the most popular on the site, the go-to lizard girl, and while at first he’d been shocked by her crests and blunt demeanor, he’d quickly realized why she was so popular. Hot, funny, cool, and had no problem shutting down bullshit from her viewers. If only Jungkook had understood sooner that was really her thing, it would have saved him from the way she’d mocked the message he’d attached to the gift he sent her through her support store. He’d had plenty of humiliating moments in his life. He was not interested in sponsoring one, certainly not unexpectedly when he was already sitting dick out and lubed, hopeful she’d enjoy his gift. You’re a penguin? You’re weird. Probably some chubby guy in your mom’s basement, huh? Ironically he probably would have had an easier time meeting a penguin woman if he was!

OK. HornyTori was in the past. So he tried SoftShellLover, a pretty and shy turtle whose slow and sensual ways made him cum embarrassingly hard, so hard he wouldn’t even talk to his friends about it because what if he had a thing for turtles? She appreciated the gift, but now he was too scared to add any notes, and she didn’t take initiative and after that, she didn’t do it for him anymore. Then he tried GatorSnatchedAngel, whose tattoos and piercings kept him sweaty for days. She seemed like she’d be game for anything, but his vague suggestion was too vague. When he followed up, trying to encourage her more in the right direction, she blocked him. Which of course made him feel like a shitty creep but he wasn’t a shitty creep!

So now it was down to PattyPussy25. Patty the platypus did all sorts of niche things. Really niche, like lactation and venom milking, and her partially webbed hands and feet came up in her videos a lot. None of these particularly appealed to Jungkook but she was sexy and sultry and kind of weird like him, so he liked her. He was open minded! Couldn’t other people be?

“Now I got a special gift from my support store this week and it arrived in the mail yesterday.” Fuck this was it! Jungkook’s hands shook. She lifted the velvet pouch into view and Jungkook’s cock twitched. He could hardly look at the screen and glanced around his desk instead. 

Ah, blue egg was right in view, nestled in its lined storage box. Oops. He shifted the laptop so blue egg was hidden behind it, out of view. He didn’t want to be reminded of that right now, not when Patty untied the pouch and let the gift --his gift-- fall into her hand. 

“This is a nice one,” she said, slanting her hands towards the camera. It almost rolled out of her palm and Jungkook’s heart leapt but she caught it and laughed. “Oops. I did already open this earlier today so I could clean it --always clean your toys before use and after use, remember that! And let me tell you, this one is so nice. It has a velvety texture and the color is this really pretty pink.”

Jungkook was sweating, watching her describe his gift so appreciatively. Now he couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen as he fumbled with his sweatpants, sliding them down his ass, all the way to the floor. His hand patted around the desk until he found the drawers beneath, the bottle of lube and box of tissues stowed inside. 

“Listen to that buzz,” Patty grinned, turning it on and holding it near the camera. She was so close, Jungkook could see the camera lights reflecting in her eyes, and the shine of her teeth, and the way her nipples were straining against the flimsy gauze of her lingerie. It must be cold in her room. That surprised him. She liked the cold? She didn’t mind that? His cock twitched again, actually lifted off his thigh, as he thought of licking down and around those pebbled, cold nipples.

Patty pressed the toy to her nose and giggled, “Oh yeah, that’s going to feel good. Like I said, this is a good egg. Thank you so much, EggsandTails97. I’m really going to enjoy this, I can tell, and I hope you enjoy watching me make myself cum with your generous gift.” As she said it, she rolled the egg down her jaw and down her neck and across her collarbone.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Jungkook slapped the lube pump and dropped his hand to stroke his cock, fondling his balls with the other as she shuffled back from the camera. At first she sat curl-legged on her bed, letting the egg roll and buzz across her tits. She pressed it to each nipple in turn and made this delicious noise, a combination of a moan and a giggle. Jungkook swallowed and squeezed the head of his cock almost painfully hard. His mouth was dry, he was so excited. She was going to do it. Patty the platypus understood what he wanted, from his note: Show me what a platypus does with an egg.

Jungkook’s hand squeezed and snapped more quickly along his length as the egg traveled lower. She slipped a strap off her shoulder, letting one breast free, but even that couldn’t distract him from the path of the egg as she spread her legs. Oh fuck, what if she put it in under her underwear? And just left it there for a while?

“Come on,” he mumbled, palm slick along his length. 

“All right all you naughty boys, I’ll show you what a platypus does with an egg.”

Jungkook coughed. He actually choked on his own saliva. Quickly he squeezed the base of his dick, desperate not to cum too soon. This wasn’t a recording, he wouldn’t be able to watch it again later and fully enjoy the sweet moment. The ephemeral nature of these videos was a thing he’d come to appreciate about them. 

“I’m so wet right now and I haven’t even touched my pussy yet,” Patty grinned, biting her thick lower lip. “I’m already clenching… it’s so hard to go slow but I want to take my time and enjoy this with you.” She gasped when the egg touched her panties; her shoulders jerked as she giggled about how strong it was. Jungkook leaned in closer, watching every moment, trying to ignore the wet sound of his own hand despite his headphones. He wished she was louder, there was that. She tended to be chill but if she would do this for him, he’d never complain again--

Her panties came off. Ok, that was ok. Jungkook tried to slow down but couldn’t because her own gasps and moans were picking up. 

“Come on,” he muttered. “Put it in. Put it in, Patty. Let me see that egg stretch your pussy…”

She came. No egg in the pussy, just buzzing merrily against her clit. She was a little louder than usual; maybe she really did enjoy it. But Jungkook was crestfallen. He closed his eyes and imagined what he’d wanted to see so he could finish, and cumming was… satisfactory. Cumming was never bad. 

But yet another disappointment left him empty and sullen afterwards. He turned her video off without listening to her further, just closed his laptop. He frowned, faced with his little comfort egg again. 

“I’m never going to find a mate,” he lamented, glancing down at his spent, soft dick, as if it were to blame. “I can’t even find a woman who knows where to put a fucking egg!”

His blue egg said nothing as he tucked it into the pocket of his sweatpants, once he’d cleaned up. He always slept with it close, but particularly tonight, after yet another disappointment. He pulled it out of his pocket and rolled over so that it was trapped under his stomach, a little uncomfortable as a reminder, as a guarantee it was safely there. Only then did he finally fall asleep.

The bar near his office building was crowded on a Tuesday night. Stupidly so. But Namjoon had made clear he needed a hang time without directly asking for a hang time and while also making clear no one could come to his place because his sister was “in a mood” --though Jungkook had a secret suspicion Namjoon just didn’t want Taehyung or Jungkook around his sister because she was hot and did not hide she found both of them so as well. Jungkook was flattered to be in the same company as Taehyung.

Once they were all four seated around a high-top near the cracked windows though, it became clear the true reason for Namjoon’s huddle call: he wanted to tattle on Taehyung.

It started innocently enough: “Ok, I need advice,” he said, holding a chip piled with avocado dipping sauce. Taehyung leaned in, Yoongi leaned back, Jungkook just ate food, already unsure what advice he could possibly give the golden eagle. If he had shoulders and height like that, he’d never need advice from anyone.

“Oh is this about that girl you met Saturday?” Taehyung asked.

“Which girl?” Namjoon asked, quickly lowering his chip. “The one who was the whole reason I brought you to that party to wingman for me for? Or the one I was left with after you made off with the first one?”

There it was. Yoongi and Jungkook said nothing but shifted their gaze to Taehyung, who cried,

“No! I mean, yes, I did wingman for you! But she was a marmot!”

“So?”

Yoongi grimaced, “Ah. Her instincts were strong about it?”

“Yes,” Taehyung nodded. “She was super cute and sweet and absolutely terrified when Namjoon approached her. But her friend liked hyung much more so he-- so you told me the marmot woman was all clear.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t mean you should just go for it. I work with that woman!”

“So?” Taehyung argued.

Jungkook, mouth full of crackers, asked, “Wait, she was scared of hyung but not of you?”

He shouldn’t have asked, Taehyung was all too happy to remind him, “Peregrine falcons mostly eat other birds. Rarely marmots. Unlike me, I’ll eat anything.” He winked as he said it, pleased with his dirty joke. 

“I was fully prepared to eat her in a sexual way,” Namjoon sighed.

“She just didn’t like your vibes, that’s all. It’s not a you problem, hyung, you’re great. Didn’t you take that other woman home? She didn’t mind your vibes.”

“And what vibes are those?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward on the table. The thunk of his big arms was enough to rattle their drinks. Granted, it was because of a loose leg on the pedestal table but the timing of it was perfect. Namjoon sighed and covered his face. “I’m not threatening!”

“Not all women know about eagles. You have a bit of a reputation. You’re large, you’re fierce, you’re intelligent,” Yoongi pointed out.

“Yeah, hyung. You’re a catch. You instill fear and respect,” Taehyung added. Jungkook arched his eyebrow at Taehyung. He was really laying the apology on thick.

“You really took her home with you?” he asked Taehyung.

“Ok look--”

“He did!” Namjoon sighed. “And whatever happened, she wouldn’t even look me in the eye today.”

“Nothing bad happened,” Taehyung quickly defended. “We just fucked.”

“Uh huh.”

Yoongi shook his head and gave Jungkook a look, but he wasn’t sure what the look was supposed to mean. 

“What are you wanting advice about, hyung?” Jungkook tried. “You met another woman there?”

“Yeah I did and she’s great but… ah, it’s the same problem as always. She thought I didn’t enjoy it… so now the text messages are awkward.”

“You have to let the woman know you’re enjoying it,” Yoongi said. “Tell her you did.”

“I did tell her that! But she thought I was too quiet like they always do… I thought a marmot wouldn’t mind me being quiet, she might see it as a sign of respect.”

“She wasn’t quiet and didn’t mind me not being quiet either…” Taehyung mumbled into his Coke. Namjoon gave him a stare lacking all amusement. Taehyung sighed, “I mean it, it’s nothing wrong with you. If I had to choose between us, I’d choose you. I’m just faster and looser and less threatening, that’s all it was. But if you’re that bothered by it, I’ll call her after all and push her to give you a chance.”

“You weren’t even going to call her?” Jungkook asked, not surprised. “Fast” was a good way to describe all of Taehyung’s relationships with members of the opposite sex.

“Nah, she was fun but she’s not like the one. She knew that too, she was just looking for fun. Seriously, hyung, do you want me to--”

“No,” Namjoon sighed. “I don’t want you to beg a woman for me.”

Yoongi nodded, “If you’re going to really help him, you should have just invited him along.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t keep a straight face, already predicting Namjoon’s outrage.

“Yeah, why not? Thanks, great advice for meeting my mate, great advice from an owl who’s been circling his mate for how long now? And still won’t--”

“I knew you were going to bring her up,” Yoongi sighed. “I told you, it’s not like that. She’s not interested…” 

But Jungkook was quick to agree, “She is interested, hyung, she’s just waiting for you to be direct.”

“Wait, hyung, did you really wonder if a marmot was going to be your mate?” Taehyung asked, stopping the derailment and even putting his hand on Namjoon’s arm.

“I��� well… I don’t know!” Namjoon answered, instantly flustered. Which he had good reason to be; even though interspecies relationships weren’t unheard of, they were even more rare among direct food chain links. Sure, people looked like people and acted like people and they weren’t walking around murdering and eating other people who just happened to have the DNA threads of their own hybrid threads’ prey. But while the DNA implants several generations ago had ended the outbreak, they had left these shadows of instinct. In some people, very strong shadows. 

Jungkook slid his hand beneath the table to check his egg nestled securely in the pocket of his sweatpants, right next to his phone. He twisted it until he could feel the scratch of the etching under the pad of his thumb.

“I feel like shit,” Taehyung fronwed. “I’m not heckling you about a marmot, hyung, I just didn’t realize it was that serious. I never would have taken her home. I asked you first!”

Now Namjoon backtracked, “Well, maybe it’s-- I don’t mean it’s that serious, just that… ah, it’s just awkward now because I work with her and if you don’t call her, maybe she’ll ask me about it.”

“If she does then you can swoop in --eh, pun not intended,” Yoongi suggested.

Jungkook pulled the egg out of his pocket and rolled it absent-mindedly in his hands. The weight of it was always comforting to toss if he was nervous, but right now he was just slightly buzzed and restless. 

“What party was this?” he asked them. He had known Taehyung was out Saturday night but not where. He also knew Yoongi had been out with his “not yet his mate” friend. But he’d been sitting at home, so if Namjoon and Taehyung had been to a party--

“It was a house-warming party,” Namjoon told him. “Someone in my branch got a new place with their mate and invited the department… not my department but I went anyway… that sounds creepier than I mean. A lot of people crashed. It’s tradition.”

“I’ll go next time with you. I can wingman for you and I won’t take any of the women you like home to fuck,” Jungkook offered. The corners of his lips twitched, trying not to smile as Taehyung glared. 

The glare lasted only a moment before Taehyung sighed, “You should fuck them. You would feel so much better if you fucked one! You move at a glacial place sexually, Kook.”

“I’ve fucked women before,” he defended. “I just don’t divebomb them like you do.”

“They like it.”

But Namjoon gave Jungkook an apologetic look and said, “I only didn’t ask you because I know you don’t like big noisy parties. Besides, we’re both too slow with women. I’ll admit it. Aren’t we? But I thought Taehyung could help me-- you helped both of them meet women!”

Jungkook grimaced and tucked the egg back into his pocket. Yes, Taehyung had helped him meet women before. He was a good friend and he wanted to help, but he just had a very different approach. Jungkook really wanted to meet his mate. It was very important to him to meet his mate and spend as little of his life as possible flailing about with other women who might be willing to fuck once or twice but ultimately didn’t really get him or want him. He wanted someone to take home.

“Yeah but you’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” Taehyung explained. “I could only help them when they relaxed too. Don’t act like I don’t want to find a life mate too. Peregrine falcons mate for life! Golden eagles and penguins do not always.” He pointed at the two of them. “So don’t give me shit just because I’m enjoying my time until I meet the one. When I do, she will be my entire world. Until then… I’m enjoying myself. You both are too busy worrying about it. Just relax and have fun. You’ll meet someone when you least expect it.”

To Jungkook’s surprise, Namjoon turned to him and Yoongi and asked, “How did you relax about it? Right now I’m feeling pretty sure I’m going to die alone.”

Yoongi nodded, “I just accept I might die alone. If you come to terms with it, it’s not so bad.”

“Just make your move,” Taehyung sighed dramatically. 

“It’s… complicated…”

“What about you?” Namjoon asked Jungkook.

“I got just the right amount of drunk,” Jungkook admitted. “And… decided my way wasn’t working so I should try Taehyungie-hyung’s way. I didn’t meet any penguins that way but I did get to have sex…”

“Will you only wind up with a penguin?” Yoongi asked him. He’d asked this before too, when they’d first started to be friends after moving in together. It was just coincidence, they hadn’t known each other, Yoongi had just accepted the placement by the building, but he’d gotten along well with Taehyung and Jungkook, and introduced them to his friend Namjoon, and now two years had gone by. And all of them were still without mates.

Jungkook frowned, “You make that sound like a bad thing. I’m not specist. If I met someone else --I’m open,” he insisted and decided to believe it. “I just think a penguin has a better chance of understanding… me. And my family.”

“Can’t your family introduce you to someone?” Namjoon asked. 

“No,” Jungkook said simply. It was a stupid answer, because often penguin families did set their kids up, his situation was just... He felt Taehyung’s gaze and received a friendly soft smile when he looked up.

Taehyung corroborated, “Yeah, they won’t help him. But you’ll meet someone and you’ll meet someone and I’ll meet someone and Yoongi-hyung will stop kicking tires. We’re young and we all have love ahead of us!”

“Spoken like someone who got laid recently,” Yoongi muttered.

“I wouldn’t know,” Jungkook sighed. He turned his head as several people in the crowded restaurant pushed against his back, a woman trying to squeeze between his and another table. 

“Sorry,” she murmured and was gone. Jungkook frowned. Damn, he was so touch starved that a woman touching his back really made him tingly like that? Pathetic.

“Take me next time you go,” he said. “I want to meet people too. I’m sitting at home too much.”

“Hand getting sore?”

“Shut up, hyung.”

“Someone’s grumpy…”

**

Conversation did in fact move away from women --or the lack thereof. It had been a week, so there were other things to share. New music, funny videos, fall events, community gossip. Yoongi’s orchestra was gearing up for a performance they’d all go to; he’d even composed one of the songs being performed. Namjoon was pretty sure his sister had a threesome and her partners ate his entire box of cereal afterwards. Taehyung’s mom had sent him a care package and he was positive Steven had broken into it; he was debating putting laxatives in one and leaving it out as a trap. Jungkook was very glad he’d been warned. 

But eventually the pub was closing and they all had work tomorrow, including Yoongi with his day rehearsals.

“You sure you can make it?” Namjoon teased him as they strolled out the front doors, feeling pretty good a couple drinks in.

Yoongi glared, “I’m not actually nocturnal. I just do my best work at night.”

“You’re an owl! It would be understandable!”

“Barn owls are only nocturnal if they live somewhere they might get swarmed if they hunt during the day,” Yoongi scoffed. “Learn outside your own species, Namjoonie.”

“Ouch! I learn all about my friends’ species!”

“Do you ever wonder if we make it all mean more than it does by expecting it to mean more?” Jungkook asked. The alcohol had warmed his blood and he was feeling pretty good right now. 

Taehyung slung his arm over his shoulder and teased, “Ah, deep thinker Jungkookie, I like where your brain goes on a Tuesday night.”

“Thanks, hyung, I--” Jungkook broke off. He immediately stopped walking. His hand groped around his pocket, as if it was deep enough the egg could possibly be hiding in there. It wasn’t. He checked his other pocket; he nearly dropped his phone in his haste to check his shirt and underwear and hair, stupid with panic.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asked. 

“My egg,” he said. “My egg is gone.”

“Your egg--”

“It’s gone,” he said, voice cracking.

Namjoon touched his shoulder, “No, maybe you left it at the table? Did you have it here in the restaurant?”

“Are you sure you didn’t leave it at home?” Yoongi asked.

“I never leave it at home.”

“Ok ok let’s go check the table,” Namjoon insisted and doubled back. Jungkook hurried after him, ignoring the hostess who told them they were closed.

“He left something at the table,” Yoongi explained in the background while Jungkook sniffed around the table. Everything was cleared away, some servers were starting to move chairs and sweep around them.

“It’s not here,” Jungkook cried, checking over and under and around. “It was here, I had it here!”

“I don’t remember seeing it,” Taehyung offered.

“What if they threw it away?”

“Excuse me,” Yoongi called, chasing after one of the busboys. Jungkook could barely make out his questions as noise buzzed in his ears. Gone, his egg was gone, it was lost, if it wasn’t here it could be dropped in a gutter or in a pile of garbage. Someone might have picked it up or thrown it away. He might never see it again.

“Let’s go check at home,” Taehyung said, grabbing his arm. “I don’t think you even had it here, I don’t remember seeing it.”

“I always have it,” Jungkook mumbled. He felt himself shutting down. 

“I’ll check around outside here,” Namjoon offered. “Call me if you find it at home.”

“You walked here right? Let’s look on the way,” Yoongi suggested. It was a good idea. Jungkook felt his energy lift again. Maybe they’d find it. It was just a little blue egg, not of value to anyone except himself. Maybe if someone saw it, they’d just keep walking. Maybe they’d just ignore it, and it would just stay sitting there, and if Jungkook didn’t find it soon, it would still be sitting there when winter set in. The cold would make the glass crack. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll find your egg,” Taehyung assured him, looking on the right side of the sidewalk while Yoongi searched the left. Jungkook checked both sides after them, certain they might miss the egg. They wouldn’t look with the same eyes he would. If anyone found his precious egg it would have to be him.

“I’m sure it’s at home in its little box this whole time and we’re worried for nothing,” Yoongi agreed. Jungkook appreciated the “we.” He appreciated they were looking. But he couldn’t say anything yet because panic pitched him too close to crying. His little egg, lost… it was unthinkable.

Jungkook had barely slept. It had been hard work for Yoongi and Taehyung to keep him from wandering out into the night to search the streets completely. Instead he’d torn apart his room and then the rest of the apartment. Chad had laughed about it and Jungkook had thrown himself bodily at the guy, who after getting knocked into the wall by Jungkook and shoved towards his room by Yoongi, decided to go into it and shut the door.

The only thing that got Jungkook moving for work in the morning was the opportunity to scour his path and the building. He almost always walked, so he did this time too after going over the lobby of his building and all around the front path again. Nothing. So he walked slowly to work, head down, gaze fixated on the path, the gutter, the buildings. He peered into every trash can in case someone had found it and not understood the significance, but of course if someone had thrown it away yesterday, it could be gone--

He couldn’t even think it. When he reached his building, he took every possible path he could have taken. He asked at the security desk. He took each elevator, not caring he looked like a crazy person. He took every path he might have taken on his floor and practically turned his desk over, looking anywhere it might have rolled. Nothing. 

Belatedly he remembered that yesterday, out of the ordinary, he had gone to the cafe kiosk in the back atrium of the building! He left his desk, ignoring a coworker who called out to him, probably wondering why he’d been at work for over an hour now and accomplished nothing. Whatever, he’d work late, he just needed to find his egg!

Downstairs, he took a quick right out of the elevators, rounded the corner to the elevator and then BAM. Barrelled right into someone. Because he’d been head down, rushing forward, the other person went flying, bag hitting the ground with a thunk and spilling out.

“Hey!” a female voice cried.

“Sorry, I’m in a hurry.” He stepped over her stuff and made it a couple yards before catching himself. Wait. Wait wait he wasn’t the sort of person who just body-slammed strangers in the hall and left them to sort themselves out.

“Fuck,” he grumbled and spun. “Sorry…” 

The woman had already turned her back to him, trying to shovel a ton of shit back into the big bag she’d been carrying. There was so much stuff, he didn’t understand how it actually fit in there.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded when he dropped down beside her and began gathering the papers that had scattered. “You’re built like a tank! You can’t just go barrelling through the hallways. I thought you’d be soft under those sweaters you wear but you’re made of fucking bricks!”

“Huh?” He paused and looked at her, too confused now to be offended about her pointing out he wasn’t soft. Did he know this woman? Her long, very curly dark hair seemed like something he would remember, or at least the long, dangly gold coin earrings that shook as she moved. She had a freckle right above her eyebrow and even though her shit was dumped out all over the ground, she was smiling. She had very straight, white teeth.

“I’m Rana?” she said, but like a question, like he ought to know this already.

“Do I… know you?”

“Oh. Well, no, but I work in this building too.”

“Lots of people work in this building…”

“Damn, knocking me down twice, huh?”

“Sorry, I’m in a hurry--”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she laughed. “Why? What’s the emergency?”

“I’m looking for something,” he mumbled, waddling in a crouch to grab the last few papers. He didn’t bother even glancing at the printing on them, some kind of report; he couldn’t have cared less. 

“I’m good at finding things,” she said, sitting up like he’d said some magic word. “What are you looking for? I can help.”

“What?” he snapped. He wasn’t listening to her. He thrust the papers at her.

“I can help you, I’m really good at finding things. What is it?”

But in the face of this rather pretty woman, he found himself shy to admit he had been so careless with something so important. She wouldn’t understand; no one ever did. None of his hyungs had a special item like it that they needed to carry around and always have within reach to feel ok. Not unless you counted their phones. This weird woman who didn’t know him but thought he knew her wasn’t any different.

“I don’t need your help,” he said, standing quickly. “Watch where you’re going.”

“What? You ran into me!”

He didn’t bother looking back at her. Just resumed his frantic pace towards the coffee kiosks. He checked on and around it. He asked the employee. He checked all around the benches and walkways and rectangular planters and in among the leaves, just in case someone had seen it and done the semi-kind thing of tucking it safely where it wouldn’t get kicked.

No egg.

Jungkook slumped down on a bench and did his best not to cry.

***

Jungkook did not get any work done that day. He needed to work. He could get away with a couple of days of being useless like this but eventually his boss --who didn’t really understand anything-- would realize he wasn’t working. He’d spent his day running through mental checklists of where else he could search.

But around the time he could clock out, he realized he had to accept it. What could he do? Someone had found his precious egg and put it in a trash can. There was nothing he could do about that. Nothing! He should have prevented it in the first place but he hadn’t and now his egg was in the trash. Like father, like son.

There was no reason to stay at work though. His day was over. Not that there was anything worth going home for but he went through the motions, packing his bag, turning off his computer that had already fallen asleep because he wasn’t bothering it. He nodded in response to what he suspected were goodbyes and goodnights from coworkers but he didn’t look at them or really listen to confirm.

The lobby was crowded with people from so many companies in the multi-story building heading out at once. Jungkook moved through them in a fog, barely noticing when he bumped or knocked into people. He slammed his shoulder painfully on the door heading out but didn’t let that stop him. 

It meant he also didn’t know how long someone had been yelling for him until his arm was grabbed and he was wrenched to a stop.

“Hey!”

He blinked at the woman from earlier.

“I was yelling for you.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t tell me your name earlier so I had to be generic. But look, I--”

“I’m going home. Bye.”

He turned away but she grabbed his arm and this time shoved her hand against his stomach.

She was holding his egg.

His egg!

“My egg!” he gasped, snatching it out of her hand. It was his egg, the very one, not a replacement. It had that familiar little chip on the bottom, the one he ran his finger over sometimes when he was thinking really hard about something. The swirly blue glass had every wave and curve that he remembered. The etching was there, every letter familiar when he dragged his thumbnail across. The egg was even warm, like she’d carried it tucked in her jacket pocket, just like he did.

“Yeah, I found it,” she said. “I--”

“Where did you find it?” he demanded. “Where was it?”

“It was in the stairwell.”

“I never went in the stairwell,” he said, holding it pressed under his chin as he tried to figure it out. Maybe someone had kicked it? Or it had rolled? But someone would have had to open the door at the same time. And it was heavy; if you kicked it, you’d feel it. Forgetting himself, he rolled it up his chin and smushed it against his mouth until his teeth clicked against the glass.

“What’s the deal with that egg anyway?” the woman asked. “What’s special about it?”

Immediately his shoulders stiffened. His gaze slid to her, remembering she was there. She had, in fact, found his egg and returned it to him. Which meant it was good he’d bumped into her earlier because if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have known the egg was his and brought it back to him. Maybe she would have thrown it away! Quickly at the thought he shoved the egg down into his pocket, but kept his fingers wrapped tight around it, proving to them both that the egg was safe and secure and back where it belonged. He hadn’t even seen any new nicks or scratches but he’d check for sure once he got home.

“It’s just one of those things, huh?”

He stared at her, trying to follow what she’d said, but he was still reeling from the relief of it all. Fuck. Fuck what a terrifying almost-twenty four hours this had been. But it was ok! He had his egg back! Thank fuck!

“A man of few words, huh?”

“Thank you,” he recalled himself enough to say. “For… finding it.”

She gave him a bright smile and reminded him, “I told you I’m good at finding things.” He didn’t know what else to say. He almost couldn’t move, he was so dizzy with relief. He inched his fingers all over the egg but didn’t feel any new damage. He needed to get home and look, to reassure himself this had been a terrible mistake but he could move past it. All had not been lost.

She was staring at him, he realized. He didn’t even remember her name, but now she tilted her head and her gaze was fixed to the side. He looked over his shoulder to see what she was looking at. 

“I like your earrings,” she said, and reached out to flick the silver hoops. “Not many men around here wear them.” It was shockingly intimate, he felt like. He shook his head and took a step back, stunned her hand had been right there, right beside his face. 

Flustered, he mumbled, “Thanks,” then turned and ran away before she could do anything weird. He couldn’t wait to let the guys know his egg was back with him and safe and he wasn’t the shittiest guy who couldn’t even keep track of one stone egg.

Fuck. Fuck, he really didn’t know what he would have done if he’d lost it.

MASTERLIST | Next

[innytoes]

So @jatp-spinsb wrote me this lovely Halloween-ish ficlet about The Caleb/Ray/Reggie ABO AU’s Reggie’s love of Halloween, and I love it so much. And it unlocked so many headcanons I thought it deserved its own post.

-So, Reggie loves Halloween. Like, loves it. It was the only holiday growing up that wasn’t mired in drama and fights, because it wasn’t focused so much on Being The Perfect Family. Especially once his parents decided he was old enough and just let him roam the streets alone with his friends. (Which was... way younger than most parents would.)

-He loves the pumpkins, and the black cats, and the ghosts (both cute and spooky) and just the entire vibes. He loves scary movies, especially now that he can curl up against Ray or Caleb and hide his face against them when it gets very scary. (Ray jumps just as much as Reggie. Caleb pretty much never jumps, and will mutter insults about how stupid the protagonists are under his breath.)

-October first, Reggie breaks out the puppy eyes. Ray and Caleb negotiate him down to adding a little bit of Halloween decor every week, and not going Full Spoopy all at once. They start with some Tasteful Gourds. Maybe a nice wreath for the door.

-Yes, the tiny pumpkins start popping up all over the house.

-Like the ficlet said, Caleb is Very Pleased when he realises how he can best spoil Reggie. Even if he is a little like: I wanted to buy him a rolex, but I guess a *checks amazon* zombie lawn flamingo will have to do. One day, he will get Reggie interested in the finer things in life.

-Imagine Ray and Caleb taking Reggie to a real pumpkin patch and he just... nearly vibrates out of his skin. They get two nice big pumpkins for carving, some cute small ones to dot around the porch, a hot slice of apple pie and some Pumpkin Spice Lattes and apple cider. Ray takes his camera and just takes... so many pictures. Yes Caleb’s phone screen is now a slideshow of Ray and Reggie at the pumpkin patch.

-When Reggie realises this is the kind of neighbourhood that does trick or treating, he is so excited. He doesn’t even feel bad for using his credit card to buy a ton of candy so they can be the House That Gives Out Full Sizes Candy Bars. He also gets some cute little Halloween themed trinkets and stuff like erasers, cool pens, yo-yos and fake spiders, because he remembers his childhood best friend having to give away half his candy at the end of the night because of his peanut allergies.

-Ray and Caleb agree to dress up, even though they’re staying home and handing out candy. Caleb only has an afternoon show once he learns that Halloween is a Big Deal for Reggie.

-They ask Reggie what he wants to be, and he asks them if it’s okay if it’s a surprise. Which, of course. So they all agree to surprise each other with their costumes. Ray starts getting suspicious when Caleb stops shaving a few days before Halloween, because he knows the man likes to be clean-shaven. (Caleb is a little shit and is like: I have no idea what you’re talking about.)

-Ray decides to dress up as Han Solo because 1) he’s always wanted to 2) to see Reggie go all flushed. Which he does.

-Reggie comes out and he’s dressed as a Sexy Cat. Except he added some tights and fuzzy leg and arm warmers as well, because he wants to be a sexy cat that is also warm and child-friendly enough to hand out candy. “Get it?” he says, sidling up to Caleb. Caleb of course is highly amused his kitten is now an actual kitten. (And he has Plans for when the trick or treating part of the evening ends.)

-Then Caleb disappears into the bedroom. And when he comes out, Ray is half-annoyed, half-turned on. Because Caleb is wearing one of his flannels. And his jeans. And some big boots. And a beanie that Ray is also pretty sure belongs to him. Listen, he loves it when Reggie wears his clothes, but seeing his husband in them is new and exciting and... wow.

-“Oh my god, you’re a sexy lumberjack!” Reggie shouts, beaming.

“I was just going for ‘lumberjack’, but alright, kitten,” Caleb says, looking smug.

-Yes there are Many Sexy Times once the trick or treating if over.

-Reggie manages to keep the Halloween decor up until almost Thanksgiving. After that he dutifully packs it away. Except for the Decorative Gourds, those get to stay until Christmas.

-He has plans to spray paint them white in an attempt to persuade Ray that totally counts as Christmas decor.

-Reggie keeps the cat ears around, though. Just in case.

[spencers-dria]

Lost at Sea

Single Dad Spencer x fem reader

Summary: This is kind of a little Christmas-adjacent fluff peice where Spencer is a single dad, completely clueless while Christmas shopping for his daughter. Reader sees him struggling and decides to help, completely unaware of where it will lead them. I imagined him sometime after the show ended, kinda with his somewhat longer curly hair and glasses. This story is completely fluff and I make no apologies.

Well, that was about the third loud huff from the man standing down the isle from me. This one was so loud it blew his hair around a bit, making it even messier. I try to focus on the task at hand, finding the perfect gift for my best friend’s little girl.

Diana was the closest thing I had to a daughter of my own. Despite Anne’s protesting, I took every opportunity to spoil her daughter rotten. The adorable and precocious little girl had me absolutely wrapped around her finger. I have to fight the urge to buy everything I thought would put a smile on her face, my favorite sight in the world.

But now, I was repeatedly distracted by the clearly frustrated man standing next to me, eyeing the girls toy section like it was an enigma. I decide to approach him, but he’s still to lost in his thoughts to notice.

I clear my throat while giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh I didn’t realized you worked here.”

“I don’t.” I smile sweetly at him. “You just look like you’re trying to solve the worlds most challenging puzzle over here.”

He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I try my best to ignore just how attractive this man is. He’s definitely not available.

“I guess in a way I am. I’m trying to buy a Christmas gift for my daughter. It’s safe to say that I know absolutely nothing about girls. I want it to be absolutely perfect, and I just know whatever I get won’t be half of what she deserves.”

“Well I can help with that. How old is she and what does she like?”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, giving me a moment to ogle just how attractive his hands are.

“Her name is Alice, she’s 5. I know she loves Disney princesses. Ariel is her favorite I think... but even once I narrow it down to that, there is still just so much. Who knew shopping for little girls could be so overwhelming.”

I can’t help but giggle a bit at his helplessness. He starts to laugh along with me.

“I’m Spencer by the way.” I see him hesitate a moment before slowly extending a hand. I look at his extended hand with a slight feeling of guilt, knowing he’ll most likely judge me based on my response.

“Oh I’m sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude but... I don’t really shake hands. It’s not personal it’s just all the germs. I don’t deal so well with them.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but I can’t imagine why. Is he actually laughing at me? Seems a bit rude.

“You know I used to be the exact same way. I suppose having a kid has changed me more than I realize sometimes.”

I nod, quietly, knowing I can’t really relate.

“I’m sorry you’re probably really busy. Are you shopping for your daughter too?”

Unsure as to the reason why, I’m suddenly embarrassed to admit that I’m not actually a parent. Just a single loner in their mid-thirties, living vicariously through their best friend and their.

“Oh no, just a friend. I’m more than happy to help you out with Alice. If you want my best ideas though, I’ve got to be honest, a lot of it is online. I can show you the links real quick, I’d you’d like?”

“I feel like this would be easier if we just... Would you like to grab coffee? I know a great place just around the corner. You can show me all your ideas and hopefully we can pick out something for her together.”

Up until this point I didn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s becoming more clear that Spencer is most likely a single dad. I don’t want pry, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to her mom.

I try to hide my excitement at his offer.

“You had me at coffee. And I almost forgot, I’m Y/N!”

————————————————

Three hours and several cups of coffee later, I knew a small part of the life story belonging to Spencer Reid. He was an FBI agent, part of a team who hunts down serial killers. A profiler. Or former profiler? He used to work in the field, until he had to raise his daughter alone. He had been fallen hard and fast for someone who left him as soon as another opportunity, or person rather, had presented themselves. They left him a single dad, all alone with his 2 year old daughter, Alice.

Being a single parent, he knew he couldn’t continue a job that put him in harms way on a regular basis. He never had a problem putting his life on the line for others, but Alice had become his number one priority, without question. Switching to a desk job had allowed him to continue as a consult for the team while also teaching at the University.

As I looked over his attire, I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t quite give off professor vibes at first glance. His cozy maroon sweater and glasses, perhaps. But his curly mop of disheveled hair and goofy grin made him look more like a cuddly muppet character. The more I listen to him talk the more I notice his intelligence. I should have known, given his professions. It didn’t take long to realize he was well out of my league, but he was kind enough to give me the time of day for whatever reason.

I keep drowining in his eyes or getting pulled in by the movement of his hands as he speaks. Listening to his voice is like gently floating down like a river. I don’t even notice when he’s stopped talking.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” I pull myself out of my daze, trying not to look as enchanted by him as I feel.

“Oh uhh, nothing to tell really.” I shrug, picking up my coffe, hoping he’ll change the subject while I sip on my caramel latte.

“I find that hard to believe. What do you do?”

“I just run a small cafe in town.”

I feel as though hearing about my life is about as interesting as watching water boil, but Spencer could have fooled me. He looks genuinely invested as I tell him about how I earned my bachelors and masters in business management, eventually opening up The Cottage. I didn’t have any experience in the food industry, but my friend Nicole had immediately been on board with the idea of coming on as my cook.

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll definitely have to stop by sometime.” He smiles at me before sipping on the last of his second cup of coffee.

“You’re welcome to bring Alice, only if you want to. And Nicole makes a killer risotto!”

“Of course! ...Oh! I knew we were forgetting something. Alice!”

“The entire reason you asked me here, just a minor detail.” I can’t help but snicker at our absent mindedness, how easy it was to be completely swept away in the tide that was Spencer Reid.

His face fades a bit, though I’m not sure why. He simply nods, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sorry if this is weird but umm... can I see a picture of her? It’s just, well, it might help me to get a better idea. You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah!”He pulls out his wallet, unfolding a long strand of small photos, most of just his daughter, a few featuring him as well.

She was beautiful, brown eyed girl with soft, brown locks. She clearly had her fathers curly hair and soft, doe eyes. If it wasn’t obvious from the way he spoke about her, the pictures made it incredibly apparent that this girl was his whole world. Pure joy radiated from the photo of the two of them. I look up to to see the exact same look on his face, with a smile so big that his eyes crinkle.

That is the moment I knew he had me. I would follow this man anywhere, this adorable dad I had met on the toy isle only hours ago. The photos made it evident that she was just as crazy about him. It was almost too adorable for my heart to handle.

I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze, which is much closer now as we lean in over the table to look at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful.”

He looks down at the photos again with glassy eyes. “I know.”

He clears his throat and scoots back into his seat.

“So what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have seen this online story that makes really pretty hand-made dresses that mimic the ones of each Disney Princess. Maybe a couple of her favorites? They also make knit blankets that look like mermaid tales. Or maybe a stuffed animal of one of her favorite characters? What little kid doesn’t like stuffed animals, right?”

Spencer nods along, absorbing all the suggestions I throw his way. After awhile, I help him settle on ordering a few we both like.

“I can’t wait to give these to her! She always loves Christmas morning. We open presents together and eat the cookies we made the night before while binging as many Christmas movies as possible.”

There was that smile again, the one he got when he talked about her. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have a dad that cares so much.

I can’t help but smile as well at the thought, which he quickly interrupted with “So what are your Christmas plans?”

I feel myself turning slightly red at the embarrassment of having to admit that I have none. Nothing much that is.

I shrug, hoping he won’t ask any more about it.

“Do you get to see your family?”

And there it was. The question I was desperately hoping to avoid. I know my inability to meet his gaze and consistent pulling at my fingers would be a dead give away of my uncertainty about speaking on the subject. I search for the best way to answer without seeming like I’m overcome with self pity. To be fair, I wasn’t. I didn’t mind spending the holidays alone. Not anymore. I had grown comfortable with the silence and comfort that comes from living alone.

The soft crackling of the fire, a fuzzy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate had become my closest companions of each winter season. I spent many evenings curled up by the window, watching the snow dust the city as soft music flowed through my drafty, top floor apartment. Sometimes I’d dance and twirl around in my pajamas and socks, slipping and sliding on the wood floors. So yes, it was safe to say I truly enjoyed the time I spent getting to know myself.

“I uh, they’re not really around anymore. I was adopted by my parents when I was still a baby. They didn’t have any family but each other and then, well, me. I lost them to a car crash a few years back.”

I can tell he’s listening, but the one thing I always expect to see isn’t there. Pity. Instead I see kindness and understanding, and my heart welcomes it fully.

“Nicole is on vacation with her family for the holidays so it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it though, I make my own fun.” I give him smile to reinforce my point.

His eyes glaze over and I can tell I’ve lost him to a deep thought, as I see the gears turning in his head. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, and finally spouting out: “Come have dinner with us. On Christmas Eve.”

I had half expected a pity invite. A “why don’t you”. A “would you like to”. But Spencer hadn’t asked me. He had told me, in a way that left no room for arguing. I could tell he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. Whether it was the insistent but kind tone or the seriousness in his eyes, I don’t know. But I knew there was no use in fighting it. Not just the invitation, but the feelings quickly flooding my heart. Spencer Reid was like a fast approaching storm, but I didn’t want to outrun the rain. I wanted to dance in it, drenched in the downpour.

And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as I saw the look on his face when I said yes, it crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and lost in the sea of my emotions.

[devendrasbeard]

Marry me Once, Marry Me twice, Marry Me Six Times

Prompt: Getting Engaged Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier Rating: M Content Warnings: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Accidental Sugar Daddy Acquisition (through marriage xD) Summary: Five times Jaskier has proposed to Eskel (more or less as a joke) and the one time Eskel has proposed to Jaskier (for real). Coffee shop AU!

Also on ao3!

The first time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was only a few days after he'd moved to Rivia all the way from Lettenhove.

He reached out to his old college friend, Geralt, who he knew lived in Rivia, and asked him for help with the move. Even though they haven't seen each other in almost ten years, Geralt was more than happy to provide help not only with bringing all of Jaskier's stuff to his new place, but he was also determined to make Jaskier's start in the new city go as smoothly as possible.

And so, he offered Jaskier a job in his coffee shop, so that he didn't have to worry about money right after having moved across the continent. When Jaskier would settle down and think of a plan for his next moves, he'd look for other job opportunities.

It was his third day in "Deja Brew", but Geralt was already convinced he'd made the right decision by hiring his old friend. Jaskier's outgoing personality and clever, witty comments already earned them much higher tips. Little to no customers could withstand Jaskier's charm when he described their cookies and special lattes with flowery words, so their order values also increased immensely.

It was close to lunchtime, so the coffee shop was almost empty. Jaskier was stacking up some paper cups and reorganizing the paper straws by color, with his back to the front door, when he heard the familiar ding of that tiny bell installed just above the door. 

He turned around to greet the new customer but got tongue-tied after seeing the person who entered. It was a very tall man, taller even than Geralt, with shoulders ridiculously broad, gorgeous olive skin and longer dark hair. He was wearing a leather jacket over a red skin-tight t-shirt, and a pair of black jeans. What caught Jaskier's attention were the bits of tattoos poking out of the shirt's v-neck and a piercing on the bridge of the man's nose.

"Fuck me sideways..." Jaskier whispered a tad too loud as the man approached the counter.

"Hey, no swearing in front of the customers!" Geralt shouted from the storage room.

"No worries, I'm no customer," the man smiled softly and winked at Jaskier. "I assume Geralt's around?"

Jaskier pointed to the back door not saying a word, too busy biting his lip and ogling the gorgeous man in front of him.

"Oh, hey, Eskel," Geralt appeared next to Jaskier and greeted the man. "Did something happen? You usually don't come here after work."

"Nah, it's nothing. I left in a rush this morning and forgot my keys. If you could give me yours I'll make dinner tonight," he casually leaned over the counter and Jaskier couldn't help but stare at the chest hair poking out of the shirt and those goddamn tattoos.

"Yeah sure, I'll get them," Geralt replied and patted Jaskier on the shoulder. "By the way, this is my old friend Jaskier, you should remember him from my college stories. Jask, this is my brother Eskel."

Jaskier's eyes widened even more. "Brother?!" He shook his head. "You have a gorgeous, sex-on-legs brother and you never cared to tell me?"

Geralt chuckled. "Of course I told you, back in college. Baby Esk? Little brother did grow up a little in the past ten years."

Jaskier swallowed thickly and eyed Eskel, who was grinning at him with a mysterious spark in his eye. "Gods above," Jaskier sighed. "You're even more perfect than Geralt. I'm sorry, but will you marry me?"

Eskel laughed loudly, a low baritone sound, but so soft on the edges. He patted Jaskier on the shoulder and winked. "I like you, Jaskier. We'll need to get to know each other better if you'd like to marry me, so I'll see you around?"

Eskel left, leaving Jaskier feeling very fuzzy inside, knees wobbly, leaning on the counter to steady himself, and Geralt rolling his eyes at him and asking the gods if it really was a good idea to hire him.

*****

The second time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was about a month later.

He stayed in "Deja Brew" for a while longer than he and Geralt had planned initially, but they both agreed that Jaskier just fit into that place perfectly. His new ideas for special drinks and clever names for desserts helped Geralt's place make a name for itself. 

Jaskier's newest addition to the menu was the "Unicorn Fart" - a caramel cocoa drink with rainbow colored whipped cream and a ridiculous amount of sprinkles on top. Kids would buy that in bulk and parents would roll their eyes at Jaskier when he'd hand the drinks to the delighted kids while making farting noises.

Eskel was a cook in the vegan diner just across the street and he used to pop in every now and then after work or before his late afternoon shift, grabbing a coffee before he went back to his daily activities.

Jaskier would eye him very carefully and absolutely not as sneakily as he thought. It's been a really long while since Jaskier has been with anyone, and Geralt's brother sparked that long forgotten interest in him. Now and then Jaskier would ask Geralt casually about Eskel - how old he exactly was, what he liked to do in his free time - feeling more comfortable talking to his friend about him, than ask Eskel himself.

One evening Eskel came into the coffee shop right before closing time, carrying two takeaway bags and placing them on the counter. "You need to try this!" he said enthusiastically, crossing his arms on his chest. "I've finally managed to make the perfect dumplings."

Jaskier peeked into the bags with interest and took out two containers with wonton soup and a tray with some kind of stir fry. Eskel grinned at him, his face an example of sheer satisfaction.

Geralt emerged from the storage room and grabbed one soup from Jaskier. "It smells great," he smiled at his brother.

Jaskier eagerly grabbed one wonton with his chopsticks and ate the whole thing at once. It was delicious - hot, juicy, full of tasty vegetables - and his eyes rolled back into his skull as he hummed with contentment. He pointed his chopsticks at Eskel, mouth still full, and let out a few appreciative grunts. "This, my guy, is orgasm in the form of food."

Eskel laughed and scratched the back of his neck. Jaskier didn't miss the way his bicep bulged, his shirt almost bursting at the seams. "I'm glad you like it, I'm really proud of this."

"You should be!" Jaskier put away the soup and reached for the stir fry. "Gods, I would give you foot massages at every occasion if you promised to cook it for me everyday."

"You know where I work, Jaskier, you can come by whenever you like."

"I would much rather marry you and enjoy this orgasmic food in the privacy of our home," Jaskier said lightly, while looking Eskel deep in the eyes at the same time. "Could also use some different kind of orgasms you wouldn't be able to provide me with in your diner."

Geralt choked on his dumpling, looking daggers at Jaskier, while having a coughing fit. "For gods' sake! Can you try being less blunt with your flirting? It's my little brother."

"I don't see any flirting," Eskel laughed, sending Jaskier a wink. "I've only been proposed to twice, that's quite serious, my old guy, don't you think?"

Geralt huffed, rolled his eyes and left for the storage room, hugging the soup container to his chest. "I need to place some orders for tomorrow. Behave, you two."

Jaskier leaned casually on the counter, popping another dumpling in his mouth and grunting with pleasure again. "I've proposed twice, yet I haven't heard an answer from you, Esk."

"I like you, Jaskier, you're more than cute," Eskel winked at him and moved to the door. "Gotta do better than that to get a yes, though. See you around!"

*****

The third time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was on the night of Belleteyn.

As a promotional stunt, Jaskier offered their coffee shop customers a pair of limited edition coffee drinks - one infused with rose and the other with lavender extract - along with a big heart-shaped cookie. When couples ordered the set he would also give them plastic flower crowns that he'd bought in bulk a few weeks earlier at a super cheap price.

Geralt was amazed at Jaskier's ideas and kept shooting him appreciative looks, as they both worked fast and agile to get all the incoming orders ready. He even gave in and let Jaskier put one of the flower crowns on his silver hair, "for promotional reasons only, of course."

When the last customers for the day left, carrying two coffee cups each and trying not to drop their flower crowns, Eskel walked into the place, his signature grin plastered on his face.

"Ready to get absolutely shitfaced tonight?" he asked, holding up a bottle of red wine. "I like how cute you both look," he smiled pointing at the now crooked flower crowns on their heads.

"You'll get one too," Jaskier chirped, reaching under the counter and placing the wreath on Eskel's head and pursing his lips. "Absolutely gorgeous!"

"Nice!" Eskel smiled. "Are we going to see the parade or do you guys want to get straight down to business?"

"And by 'business' you mean...?" Jaskier leaned forward on the counter, grinning at Eskel, completely disregarding Geralt's exasperated huff. Jaskier was like a horny, hyperactive little puppy that Geralt had absolutely no control over. 

"It's up to you, Jaskier," Eskel smiled, absolutely unfazed by his friend's innuendos. "Geralt and I have seen the parade more than a dozen times, so if you'd rather hit the pubs already, then I'm game."

"Let's hit the pubs then," Jaskier commanded. "But the flower crowns stay on!"

A few hours and three visited pubs later, Geralt has called it a day and went home, leaving Jaskier and Eskel sitting alone at the bar, telling them to not do anything stupid while he's gone. 

"Sigh, Eskel, you're really handsome," Jaskier whispered, propping his chin on his hands.

"Did you just say 'sigh' out loud instead of actually sighing?" Eskel chuckled.

"I might have," Jaskier tried for a seductive smile. "You're still handsome." He reached out to pat Eskel's cheek, but miscalculated the distance and launched forward, his hand landing on Eskel's thigh and his forehead on Eskel's chest.

"Okay, how shitfaced are we?" Eskel asked, helping Jaskier find his balance.

"Well, I'm pretty hammered for sure. Time to go home?"

"Can I walk you home?" Eskel asked, still holding Jaskier's arms in his grip.

"Only if you stay the night," Jaskier went for a wink but ended up closing both his eyes several times. 

"You're absolutely not subtle while flirting," Eskel laughed, leaning forward and almost bumping their foreheads. "But you're incredibly cute and I'm terribly horny, so I'll take it."

"Talk about subtle," Jaskier snickered.

Before he could find another witty comeback in his alcohol-dazed mind, Eskel's lips were on his. They were soft and plush and very wet, and the kiss caught Jaskier off guard. He wrapped his hands around Eskel's neck and leaned into the kiss.

"Hey, no tongue wrestling at the bar!" the bartender swatted them with his towel. They laughed softly, muttering out apologies and left the pub, hips bumping against each other and legs wobbly.

They stumbled into Jaskier's apartment, Jaskier hugging Eskel's waist, Eskel's arm slumped over Jaskier's shoulder, laughing at something they have long forgotten about.

Jaskier pushed Eskel against the wall as soon as he closed the door behind them. "Okay, are we doing this because we're super drunk, super horny, or do you really really reallyyyyy fancy me?" he asked, propping his arm against the wall and looking up at Eskel's face.

"I like you Jaskier," Eskel said firmly, giving him a quick kiss. "And I'm also super horny, so I hope that's enough a reason for you?"

"Your hot-ass... ass is reason enough for me," Jaskier chuckled and pulled Eskel in for a kiss. Eskel was warm on his lips and his hot tongue in Jaskier's mouth was already driving him crazy.

"Bedroom," Eskel panted. "Quick, before we pass out from all the tequila shots we had tonight."

So Jaskier laid back comfortably on the bed, having already dropped his shirt and pants and he watched Eskel undress. Eskel didn't waste any time, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion and sliding his pants off together with his boxer shorts.

"What the fuck? What the... Shit, fuck, Eskel?!" Jaskier sat up on the bed, eyes wide with wonder.

"You okay, Jask?" Eskel turned to him, brows furrowed with worry.

"You walk around carrying this marvel of a dick in your pants and you didn't tell me?!" Jaskier gasped, his voice reaching incredibly high notes.

"When do you think would be the right time to tell you?" Eskel laughed, crawling up the bed and into Jaskier's arms. "'Yo, I'm Eskel, wanna see my marvelous cock?' This doesn't usually work out well."

"I usually don't propose to people immediately after seeing them, so I guess this could've actually worked," Jaskier replied with a seductive wink, his hands already roaming across Eskel's tattooed chest. His eyes, however, were fixed at Eskel's cock. "Gods, dick so bomb I will really have to marry you! I want to feel that between my legs every day for the rest of my life!"

"Watch out what you wish for," Eskel whispered in his ear, causing goosebumps on Jaskier's skin. "Or you might actually get it."

*****

The fourth time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was when he caught a nasty cold in the middle of summer.

Jaskier was sitting on the couch, watching reruns of "The Great Cintran Bake Off", a cup of now cold tea in his hands. He scolded himself for having worn flip flops to work the other day - a heavy rain had caught him when he was going home in the night and he was soaking wet when he had finally reached his place. The next day he woke up with a throbbing headache and runny nose and had to call in sick.

There was a knock on the door, but Jaskier waved it off. If it was the postman, he'd leave the parcel or letter at the door, and Jaskier didn't expect anyone else.

A moment later there was another, louder knock, followed by Eskel's soft baritone voice. "Jaskier, are you home? It's me."

Jaskier slipped off the couch, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and shuffled to the door to open it.

"Aww man, you look like shit," Eskel said when Jaskier let him in.

"Good to see you too, Eskel," Jaskier replied weakly and shuffled back to his living room to plop back on the couch.

"Geralt has told me you called in sick and asked me to come over and check up on you," Eskel followed him into the living room, placing takeaway bags on the table next to the couch. He put a hand on Jaskier's forehead, worrying his lip between his teeth. "Good thing I have the whole day off. Someone needs to take care of you."

"I'll be fine," Jaskier mumbled from under the blanket.

"What did you eat today?" Eskel asked, eyeing the half empty tea cup on the table.

"Some Aspirin. Butter toast."

"Yeah, thought so," Eskel shot him a condescending look and grabbed the takeout bags. "That's why I came prepared."

He pulled out a container of hot chicken soup and another one with gyoza dumplings. He helped Jaskier sit up and wrapped the blanket around Jaskier's shoulders, so that he could eat comfortably on the couch.

"The chicken soup is what my grandma used to make whenever we were sick. She taught me how to prepare it," Eskel said with a hint of pride. "Eat it hot, you'll feel better in no time."

Jaskier ate a few spoons of the hot broth - it was deliciously salty, with lots of carrots, onions and noodles. He felt a pleasurable warmth already spreading around his stomach and he hummed softly. "Thank you, it's delicious."

"Now, eat it all up and go to bed. You need sleep," Eskel rubbed his back and Jaskier leaned in to rest his head on Eskel's shoulder. "I'll look after you today."

"You don't have to," Jaskier looked up at him, eyes fogged. "I'll take a nap and will be fine. No need to stay around and waste your day off work on me."

Eskel cleared his throat before placing a quick kiss on Jaskier's forehead. "It's... It's not a waste of time to be around you." He lowered his gaze and fixed his eyes on the floor. "You're my friend."

"... with benefits," Jaskier chuckled, then got a coughing fit. "Sorry."

"Let's get you to bed," Eskel commanded with a light smile. "You need to sleep for the soup to work its wonders."

Jaskier slept for over four hours. He was woken up by a warm hand on his forehead - Eskel checking his temperature. He sat up with a groan, but he was relieved to find that his head didn't hurt anymore.

Eskel put a tray with a bowl of steamy hot dumplings in Jaskier's lap and sat next to him on the edge of the bed. "Time for lunch," he smiled. "I also made you some ginger tea with honey - it's much better for your health than that generic supermarket shit you had earlier."

"I don't know if I should thank you or feel fucking offended," Jaskier narrowed his eyes. He then tried one of the gyozas and let out an appreciative hum. "Okay, I've decided to thank you, cause these are fucking delicious! Did you made them yourself?"

Eskel nodded with a smile.

"Gods, I'm so lucky to have you," Jaskier whispered between bites. "Fucking handsome, so caring, great cook, dick so bomb it leaves me breathless... Eskel, I'm going to-"

"Yes, I know, you will ask me to marry you," Eskel cut him off, letting out a breathy laugh.

"I wanted to offer you a blowjob once I get better," Jaskier retorted with a grin. "But marrying you would come with the same benefits, so I guess I should actually ask you to marry me one day."

"Who knows," Eskel replied, eyes unfocused and looking at the wall with a soft smile. "Maybe one day I will actually accept your crazy proposal. Now finish your food and let me get you some more Aspirin."

*****

The fifth time Jaskier has proposed to Eskel was when Eskel saved his life.

It was a chilly night at the beginning of autumn. Geralt has left earlier to run some errands and Jaskier was closing up the coffee shop by himself. Having worked there for over half a year now, he knew exactly what to do and it didn't bother him to be left alone for the last hour of work every now and then. He closed the front door, swept the floors, counted the money and put it away into the little safe in their back room. He turned off all the lights and went out, closing the back door behind him.

"Your wallet and phone, pretty boy," he heard a hoarse voice behind his back. 

He turned around to see a man, hiding his face under a big hood, both hands kept hidden in the hoodie's vast pockets. Jaskier shook himself out of the initial shock and looked closer at the person - it wasn't a man, more a teenager, sixteen years old at best. He was grinning awfully at Jaskier, eyes mad and darting, probably on drugs.

"Okay, let's take it easy," Jaskier held his hands up, shivering a little. "I don't think you want to do this."

"Shut the fuck up! Wallet." The guy moved closer to Jaskier pulling a small knife out of his pocket. 

Jaskier instinctively scooted back, his back bumping painfully against the cold door of the coffee shop. This was getting serious and he was sure even his wit wouldn't help him get out of the situation. He looked at the knife's blade shining in the weak light of the few street lamps, took a quick glance at the guy's wild eyes and gritted teeth - he was definitely under some substance's influence, so Jaskier convinced himself that arguing with the guy or trying to talk some reason into him would make no sense. He exhaled slowly, trying not to shake too much while still eyeing the sharp blade in the guy's hand. He tried looking around without acting too obvious - but there was nobody in the street.

"Okay, I'm gonna reach into my pocket and take my wallet out," Jaskier said weakly, trying to sound as calm as possible. "No need to use the knife, okay?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" the guy shouted at him, waving the knife around. 

Jaskier looked up and prayed silently to the gods. He hoped that as soon as he'd handed the guy his stuff, he'd be gone and leave him alone. All he heard was the annoying sound of his teeth clicking and his rushed heartbeat ringing in his ears.

"Leave him alone!" Jaskier heard a growl coming from the end of the alleyway. Before Jaskier could recognise Eskel in the dark figure, he rushed at the robber, knocking him down. The guy fell on his back, losing the knife and groaning painfully. He scrambled to his feet and launched at Eskel, clearly going for a fight. Jaskier watched him lose his balance and fall on his back again, after Eskel had punched him straight in the face. "Get the fuck out of here!" Eskel's voice was dark and threatening, nothing alike the soft baritone Jaskier was used to. Eskel kicked the guy once, before Jaskier grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

"It's okay, Esk," he said quietly. "I'm okay. It's okay."

"If I ever see you around here again, I swear to god..." Eskel started, teeth gritted and jaw clenched. He watched as the guy got up as quickly as he could and limped away, leaving him panting and with a very scared Jaskier clinging to his arm.

Jaskier let out a deep breath, steadying himself on Eskel's arm. Eskel turned to him and grabbed him in a tight embrace. "I'm okay, I'm okay," Jaskier kept repeating, even though his legs felt weak and his teeth were still clicking a little.

"Gods, I'm so glad nothing happened to you," Eskel breathed and kissed Jaskier's forehead. Then he kissed his cheeks and left a soft kiss on Jaskier's lips. He was shaking a little too. "If he'd hurt you, I swear to god..."

Jaskier put a finger on his lips to shut him up. "Thank you, Eskel. I'm so glad you were here."

Eskel huffed. "Good thing I came over... Wanted to ask you to go out and grab a beer with me, but now..." he gestured around, while giving Jaskier a worried look.

"Eskel," Jaskier hugged him, hiding his face in Eskel's broad chest. He felt the stress leave him, as Eskel's strong hands rubbed circles on his back. He let out another deep breath, held back the tears prickling at his eyes, smiled faintly. "You saved my life, quite literally. So, since I now owe you my life, will you marry me?"

"Ahh, there it is," Eskel let out a breathy laugh, placing another kiss on Jaskier's forehead. "I will take you out tonight first."

*****

And then Eskel has proposed to Jaskier.

"Hey, Jaskier," Geralt looked up from the delivery boxes and greeted him when he entered their coffee shop. "Before you change into your work clothes, can you go over to Eskel's diner and pick up a parcel for me? He said he grabbed it for me this morning."

"Sure thing," Jaskier replied, putting his jacket back on. "Be back in ten."

"Yeah," Geralt nodded towards him with a soft smile tugging at his lips. "No rush."

When Jaskier entered the diner, Eskel greeted him at the door and took his work apron off, throwing it to a coworker. "Good to see you, Jaskier," he said eagerly.

"Hi, Geralt said I was supposed to pick something from you for him?"

"Uh yeah... I don't have it," Eskel grinned with an apologetic look on his face, rubbing the back of his neck. "But you can come with me, I have something to show you."

"How long is it gonna take?" Jaskier hesitated at the door. "Told Geralt I'll be back in a minute."

"You don't really have to," Eskel smiled at him. "Asked Geralt for a day off for you today, he's already got someone to cover today's shift for you."

Jaskier propped his hands on his hips and eyed Eskel suspiciously. "Okay, what is going on?"

"Can't tell ya," Eskel reached out and grabbed Jaskier's hand. "Come with me."

They strolled slowly through the city's streets. Eskel was holding Jaskier's hand all the time, rubbing small circles on it with his thumb every now and then. Jaskier looked down at their intertwined fingers and smiled. Eskel's hand was strong and warm, his olive skin soft under Jaskier's touch.

"How come your skin and your hair are so much darker than Geralt's?" he wondered aloud.

"Geralt's a weirdo," Eskel blurted out without thinking, causing Jaskier to chuckle. "Also, he's old."

"Mind you, I'm the same age as him," Jaskier stuck his tongue out.

"Technically, yes. But you're different," Eskel smiled. "When I'm around you, I feel like you're more my age, while Geralt is already like our dad."

"I'm really glad he doesn't hear us now," Jaskier laughed, squeezing Eskel's hand tightly. "Okay, where are you taking me and what is going on?"

"Ah, we're here," Eskel stopped them. "You'll find everything out soon enough."

Jaskier took a look at the heavy steel gate they found themselves in front of. Botanical garden. Jaskier has always wanted to go there but never found the time to do so. He smiled fondly at Eskel and squeezed his hand. So it was a surprise date, a nice walk through the narrow paths between colorful flowerbeds. There were little to no people, since it was a weekday before noon - everyone was either at work or in school and they could enjoy their time together in privacy. A fuzzy heat spread through his chest and he gave Eskel a wide smile. "Thank you for bringing me here, I love it."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Eskel grinned, grabbed Jaskier's hand and led him inside.

After a while of walking around, Eskel sat Jaskier on a secluded bench in front of a weeping willow tree. On both sides of the bench were flowerbeds of blooming autumn flowers - cyclamens, russian sage, and marigolds. Jaskier turned his face to the sun, letting it warm his skin, and inhaled the mix of strong flowery scents. "It's beautiful," he sighed. "But what's the occasion? It's neither my birthday nor yours... So what's the deal here?"

In reply, Eskel grabbed Jaskier's face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. His lips were warm and plush and so soft on Jaskier's and Jaskier immediately sunk into the sensation, slumping in Eskel's arms. Eskel was holding Jaskier's face firmly, kissing Jaskier so deeply, hungrily, as if he was afraid Jaskier would never want to kiss him again. But Jaskier leaned into the kiss, pressing his body flush to Eskel's, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders, opening his mouth to welcome him.

"Jaskier, listen," Eskel grabbed his hand and exhaled deeply, when they parted their lips. "I know we're not technically together, like we never put the 'boyfriends' label on ourselves, but I feel that we have a strong connection going on between us anyway. And I know that you're much older than me, but I don't really mind, and if you don't mind, then..." He stopped for a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth, trying to find the right words.

Jaskier stared at him with interest and a hint of worry, looking between their intertwined fingers and Eskel's face.

"I've never met anyone like you, Jaskier," Eskel continued, squeezing Jaskier's hand between his strong fingers. "You're funny and smart, you're like sunshine embodied. You're so beautiful and so confident in who you are and I admire you and... I love you."

Jaskier felt tears already brimming at the corners of his eyes and he exhaled deeply, trying not to burst out crying at the very moment. But then Eskel slid down from the bench and got on one knee, causing Jaskier to gasp loudly.

"Marry me, Jaskier," Eskel said, expression serious but eyes hopeful. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small dark blue box, and pressed it into Jaskier's hands. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You might think I'm crazy but I've really thought it through and if you're ready to take that leap of faith with me, then I'll be the happiest person in the world."

"You mean it." Jaskier's voice was as quiet as a whisper, as he looked at the little box in his hands and then at Eskel's face. "You really want this?"

Eskel nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He squeezed Jaskier's hands between his a little bit tighter.

Jaskier opened the box. He found a small simple ring in white gold inside, holding a tiny aquamarine at the top. He let out a whimper, before pulling the ring out and placing it on his finger. He pulled Eskel up from his knees and into a kiss. "I knew from day one we're gonna end up like this!"

-----

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

[ofhouseadama]

Okay if we're still on baby hours what about brand new dad Ed Warren hanging out with less than a week old Judy because Lorraine is asleep and he wants her to get her rest so he's just walking around the house with the baby held very gently to his chest and is telling her all about the house and the baby items her mother has been making for years and how happy he is she's here now and he's maybe crying just a little bit but nobody can prove it

My dear sweet anon, it is ALWAYS baby hours for me. I am never not full of yearning to have a baby.

But yes, fully endorse this image. They've gotten home from the hospital earlier in the day (since Judy was born in the era before they shunted women out of the hospital as soon as possible) and Lorraine's been desperate to sleep in her own bed for a few nights now (especially since this is before the era where men were allowed to stay overnight with their partners - or well, anyone was allowed to stay overnight with their birthing partners) because she sleeps better when she knows Ed is nearby. So she's finally fallen into a deep sleep for the first time since she went into labor, when Judy wakes up from a nap.

At first Ed's definitely terrified that she's going to start crying, because Lorraine's been asleep for all of twenty minutes and he knows she is so, so tired but also so, so insistent on trying to breastfeed.

But Judy is just awake, staring up at him from her bassinet. And like, logically Ed knows she can't really see anything yet, she's five days old, all he is to her is a fuzzy grey blob that doesn't smell like her mother but it absolutely Gets to Him and he scoops her up when she starts to fuss and holds her to his chest, which seems to calm her down. And then instinct tells him to walk, because he knows that babies like when they're rocked so he's just wandering around the house with her. The past six days have felt like a whirlwind, and nothing's really quite hit him yet but it's finally starting to really sink in now that they're home with her.

He thinks about all the baby clothes Lorraine sewed years and years ago, after they were married and was waiting for him to earn his discharge from the Navy. Tiny clothes she brought into their house in her trousseau, thinking they'd be put to use within the year. Tiny clothes she eventually begged him to just throw away, that he instead put into the cedar trunk in the attic, because he can hold enough hope for the both of them, even when the odds seem dismal, because that's what they do for each other.

And now they've been married for close to ten, and their daughter is finally here. She's real, and she's here, and so so tiny and so so fragile and so so precious them. And it is Very overwhelming, to walk around the kitchen in circles with the baby girl you thought you were never going to have, because you think that you're so happy that it's going to somehow be taken away. That you're going to do a big thing badly, because your own father did it badly and without shame, because your mother is faint angelic memory of a woman. He's so afraid but he's so full of love.

Anyway I'll be sitting at my desk staring into my latte now.

[softlikethesunset12]

You wanted to play? ok...

Amber

Candy Corn

Cardigans

Crow

Creature Comforts

Cold Hands

Dream

Fresh Air

Giving

Halloween

Holidays

Intricate

Laces

Macabre

Novel

Oven

Pie

Quiet

Spooky

Syrup

Tasty

Tea

Trees

Trains

Ultimate

Yule

Zeal

And ask, i did

I SWEAR I DIDNT ASK FOR ALL OF THEM FROM THE LIST, TRUST ME? 😉😉

Wowww you understood the assigment! ;) @sparklingdust4612

Amber - what's something you do every day?

Talk with my sister and best friend! And read of course :)

Candy Corn - what's your favorite candy?

Does chocolate count? 🙈 No but seriously, I like chocolate waaayyyy more. But if I have to choose, I’m going with these:

They’re basically just gummy’s. The one you see up here is sweet and sour. The other one is on the bottom of the page, tumblr wouldn’t let me put it here. 🙃

Cardigans - favorite autumn colors?

Orange and Bordeaux 😍😍😍

Crow - what's an unpopular opinion you have on autumn?

Uhm, I think the changing of the weather? But that’s only because Dutch weather is awful and fall means a lot of rain. Well, last week it was 28° (Celsius) and then two days later, it was pouring. So, yeah. I think that’s it. I do love sweater weather, though. I really love sweaters and cozy hoodies and all that. It’s just that I don’t like the rain. Especially when I have to bike 😤

Creature Comforts - cats or dogs (or other)?

I have a cat and she has a boyfriend that just randomly comes in our house, lol. I think I’m more of a cat person but, I do like dogs.

Cold Hands - are you single or in a relationship?

I am single! This night I was in so much pain, I was really like: can someone send me a Peeta, please?? Even though I was in pain, I immediately Everlarked it. You know, Katniss sobbing and calling Peeta and he coming to her rescue. Them cuddling while he strokes her hair and tells her she’ll be alright 🥺🥺 (do I have a problem?)

Dream - describe your perfect au.

For me or for Everlark? Let’s do Everlark. Let’s seeee, college au or sports au (or both). I’m a sucker for football player!Peeta. I just 🥵🥵😍😍😍😍 omg, I just can’t. And for myself: studying abroad, either in London or the USA. Making friends, having adventures, being a real college girl. Meeting someone and falling head over heals in love. In case you didn’t notice, I’m really good at romanticizing 😅

Fresh Air - what's something you're thankful for right now?

My cat, for keeping me company and cuddling with me 🥰🥰 and for you guys! I love this fandom so much ❤️

Giving - do like giving or receiving gifts more?

Ooohhh, that’s a hard one!! I like both very much 😋 I love thinking about gifts and giving them and then seeing the happiness on their faces. But receiving gifts is also not bad ☺️

Halloween - what's your favorite Halloween tradition?

Okay, uhm, so, I have a confession to make…I’ve never once in my life celebrated Halloween…it’s just not so big in The Netherlands. I always wondered though, how a real Halloween is like 😍

Holidays - do you prefer Halloween, Thanksgiving, or Christmas?

Christmas, hands down!! I love Christmas sooooo much. Even if I did celebrate Halloween and Thanksgiving, Christmas would still win 🤩🤩🤩😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Intricate - what's a subject you have random knowledge about?

Actors I like, lol. If I’m obsessed with a movie or a serie, I look up the actors and yeah 😅 I know a lot about Tom Holland, oops (sorry not sorry)

Laces - knee high boots or fuzzy boots?

Fuzzy boots!! :)

Macabre - you have peculiar interests?

Hmm, I don’t know. I have a lot of interests but I don’t know if they’re peculiar. Maybe that I really like games where you solve murders? I think that comes closest to peculiar. Or where I can think of right now, anyways.

Oven - what's your favorite holiday thing to bake?

Cookies or pie! I really love to bake :))) I really want to try to make cheese buns sometimes, too.

Pie - what's your favorite type of pie?

Carrot cake and apple pie are my favorites!! 😍🤤🥰 I like really like cheesecake, too 😍🤤

Quiet - how do you relax?

Reading, listening to music, eating good food, watching a movie or show I really like and getting a scalp massage by my bestie 🥰

Spooky - do you believe in the supernatural?

Yeah, I really like to believe that they’re powers I don’t posses. That sounded really dark but what I mean is, wouldn’t it be cool if there are sorcerers and witches? 🤩

Syrup - waffles or pancakes?

Pancakes for sure!! With lots of syrup 🤤

Tasty - do you have a comfort food?

Yes! Mac and cheese but then a lil bit different. I also really like quiche with leek and vegetarian bacon. Yes, I’m a vegetarian :)

Tea - what's something that soothes you?

Soft blankets 🥰🥰 my cat. A hug from my mom, dad or sister. (I have a brother, too, but he doesn’t like to hug, lol) hot chocolate or a chai latte 🥰

Trains - if you could spend the fall anywhere, where would you go?

London or New York City. I’ve been to London a few times now and it’s my favorite city 😍🥰. And it’s one of my dreams to go to New York City sometime 🤗

Ultimate - describe your best holiday experience.

I always love the holidays but I think my best one was when I went to Paris with my family. Or when I went to London with my mom and dad. It was both around Christmas so it was very pretty and truly an aesthetic 😍🤩🥰

Yule - what's one wish you have for this holiday season?

A boyfriend. Hahah no just kidding. Although, I wouldn’t complain if I got one. 👀 No, I would love it if we had a white Christmas this year 😍❄️

Zeal - what is something you go all out for?

Christmas and birthdays!! 🤩🤩🤩

This tooooook sooooo long!! I liked it though :) now you guys know me a little better 🤗🤗

[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 23 - Bear Hugs

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiao Jun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

~ Updates now every Monday, Wednesday & Friday @ 9pm GMT/3pm CST

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Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter Warnings: A whole lot of fluff and a lil bit of smut towards the end... Sorry if you were expecting more smut but I legit cannot bring myself to write it for our smol boy 👀😅

Your shoulders ached as you shuffled into your living room having showered and made yourself just about presentable, compared to the sweaty state you were in earlier. You and some of your colleagues had been recruited for a stage at the Asia Song Festival this year and were now spending at least 8 hours a day in the studio practicing, hence why you felt like all the energy had been sucked from your body. Not that you could complain because it was a great opporunity, but 8 plus hours certainly took it out of you. What you really needed was cuddles, but since Yangyang wasn’t the huggy type and was out walking bella, and Kun was most likely still at work, for now you’d have to suffice with your oversized teddy.

You sigh as you waddle through the empty room, flopping down onto your imaginitively named Mr. Gom in the corner, wondering when Xiaojun would be here with your coffee, and just like magic, as soon as the thought pops into your head, the front door clicks and the man himself emerges from your hallway calling out to you.

“Y/n?” he calls, making his way into your living room, not having seen you tucked away in the corner, squished beneath your teddy bear’s oversized paw. “Here!” you call out, struggling to even lift your head, let alone stand up to greet him. Xiaojun’s face breaks out into a grin as he realises where the voice is coming from, his internal dialogue squealing over how incredibly endearing you look clinging onto the teddy in the corner.

“You okay down there?” he says with a tone of amusement, striding up to you, two cups of coffee in hand. You whine in response, indicating you are very much not okay and still laughing, Xiaojun sets the two coffees down on the table, taking his phone out and clicking a photo of you as you cuddle into your bear.

Hearing his phone camera click, you whip your head around, looking up at him with a pout. “Hey!” you whine, scowling at him with contempt, but seeing you curled up looking tiny next to the huge teddy bear Xiaojun can’t find it in him to put on a straight face and shrugs. “Heh, sorry, you looked kind of cute though.” Xiaojun chuckles, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Here.”

Xiaojun picks one of the coffees up off of the table and hands it to you. “You, xiaojun, are a life saver,” you utter, perking up a little as you graciously accept the warm creamy beverage from him, inhaling deeply as the rich scent of fresh coffee wafts up from your cup. Thank god you only live a five minute walk from Starbucks. “Oh you know, some do say I’m a bit of a hero,” he jokes, shrugging before picking up his own coffee from the table to sip on.

Crossing your legs, you rock yourself forward so you can stand up, being careful not to spill any of your coffee and wander over to sit on the couch. “So you were at Hendery’s?” You ask casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, we were working out this evening, which is why I’m all sweaty, so I’m gonna go take a shower, but we can hang out after if you like?” Xiaojun asks, downing the remnants of his coffee which he’d of course drank the majority of on his walk back. “Sure, thanks for the coffee!” You reply, smiling despite being a little disappointed that he wasn’t staying. “No problem, see you in a bit”.

Xiaojun turns, seeing himself out of your apartment, leaving you to sip on your latte alone. You weren’t usually that desparate for company, quite happy by yourself unlike Yangyang, but you’d had a long day and you were growing to realise that Xiaojun was someone you wanted to be around at times like this, so as the door clicks behind him, you can’t help but feel a little sad, half wishing he would just come back and sit in a cuddle pile with you and Mr. Gom.

You sit alone with your thoughts for a while, wondering when the hell Yangyang would be back from walking Bella until your phone lights up with an instagram notification. Opening it, you look in dismay as you realise that Xiaojun has posted the picture of you slumped against Mr.Gom. After scowling at it for a while though, you decide that in fact it’ really sort of cute. After all, there he was, a stubborn and supposed ‘tough guy’ posting a picture of you looking all tiny, slumped against a giant ass bear, which by definition was pretty damn adorable.

You giggle as the comments roll in from Xiaojun’s friends, mentally facepalming when Yangyang decides to bring up your morning routine of flopping down on the bear and refusing to move for ten minutes. A blush rises across your cheeks though as you receive a message from Xiaojun. You hadn’t quite been expecting that, but right now you’d give your right arm to be curled up next to him. Despite your best efforts, you smile as you read Xiaojun’s invitation for you to go upstairs, leaping to your feet as quickly as possible given your aching muscles and go to grab your sliders to flip flop up the stairs in.

As soon as you get upstairs you knock tentatively on the door before pushing it open and calling out to Xiaojun. You’d been in his apartment a couple times before now, so instead of waiting for him to answer you find your way into the aparment and straight to the living room where Xiaojun is sat waiting on his sofa, scrolling through netflix on the tv. His soft dark brown locks unstyled and messy, still a little damp from the shower and you have a struggle to control your thirst as he turns to peer at you, highlighting his surprisingly elegant side profile. “Hey,” he regards, as you shuffle towards him. “Come sit.” Xiaojun pats the space next to him continuing to scroll through what netflix has to offer and you go to join him, opting to sit close to him but not so close that you’re touching. You don’t want to come off too needy.

“Still tired?” he aks as you settle into the cushions. “Mhm.” You hum in response, showing a weary smile, but trying your best not too seem like you’re too tired to be there. Despite your apparent need for sleep, you’d rather cuddle up in front of a film with him than sit in your empty apartment scrolling through the same old crap on your phone until you passed out. “You want to just put a film on and chill then? I have a blanket” Xiaojun says, nodding towards a fuzzy grey throw draped across the end of the couch. “That sounds perfect right now” you sigh, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of your top. “What do you want to watch?”

After a minute or so of debating what to watch, you settle on one of the marvel films, and whilst Xiaojun fiddles with the remote, adjusting the volume, you set about getting the blanket off the end so you can snuggle up for the film. As you throw the blanket over you, Xiaojun shifts back a little to put his arm around you and you snuggle against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world, which comes as a bit of a surprise, considering you’d never really done this with Xiaojun before. However, happiness bubbles up in your chest as you sink into his warmth and begin to relax, curling up comfily in Xiaojun’s arms. “Mm you smell nice” you hum, noticing the fresh citrussy scent, on him, presumably from his shower. Nestling your cheek into Xiaojun’s collar he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating through his chest. “A lot better than earlier for sure”.

The film is one you’ve both seen before, so although you were quiet to start with, eventually you begin talking and by now you’re no longer really paying much attention to the screen.

Whilst you babble on about this or that, you begin to feel Xiaojun’s thumb absent-mindedly stroking up and down your waist where your top had ridden up, the sensation of it delicately brushing against your cool skin sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. The action, whilst it slowly began to set your body alight also seemed to have the effect of relieving a good part of the tension that had built up in your muscles over the course of the day and you start melting even further into Xiaojun, feeling a sense of bliss wash over you. Xiaojun picks up on this, and his ministrations become more deliberate, now using his whole hand to caress your waist, the tips of his fingers dipping ever so slightly into your waistband, but not invasively.

At this point you’d finished whatever you’d had to say and were now just revelling in the warm feeling of being curled up against Xiaojun, the only sound to be heard the voices of captain america and presumably some other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the background.

Shifting your head to look up at Xiaojun, you find him looking not at the screen but straight back down at you, your faces just mere inches apart and whatever you had been thinking of saying completely vanished from your mid as Xiaojun’s head bobs down, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You smile against him as he pulls away, just barely leaving an inch between you. He seems to be hesitating for a moment, not entirely sure whether it’s okay to continue, but you can’t help but want more, so you angle yourself round a little, placing your free hand at the bottom of his neck, squeezing encouragingly and bring your lips back to his. Xiaojun, all too happy to return the kiss, quickly finds a rhythm, not fast, but slow and sensual, the exact kind of kiss you need in your tired hazy state.

As the kiss deepens, Xiaojun pushes you back slightly so you’re tucked into the corner of the couch beneath him, your legs draped over his and his hand, that until now had been resting innocently just above your knee, starts to softly knead at your flesh through your leggings, moving ever so slightly higher sending small jolts through your nerves to your core. “This is okay right?” He whispers, drawing away momentarily, and looking down at you with concern, his big chocolatey eyes baring into yours. You nod quickly, surrendering yourself to Xiaojun’s touch and letting out a small whine when he resumes, planting small, sensuous kisses up your jawline.

Soon the fingers that had been gently brushing across the skin of your waist begin to venture slowly down over your panties, getting further until they reach between your legs and you moan lightly, involuntarily arching your back into Xiaojun’s touch. This really hadn’t been where you were envisioning this night going, expecting just a wholesome evening of cuddles, since you and Xiaojun’s relationship wasn’t really at that stage yet, but honestly, you didn’t mind all that much.

You let out a gasp, gripping at the nape of his neck as Xiaojun suddenly pushes your panties aside, drawing one of his fingers through your slick testing to see if you might be ready for more. Finding that you’re plenty wet enough, the same finger swirls around your bud a few times before it’s removed completely. “Can I take these off?” He says huskily, fingering the waistband of your leggings and panties.

You almost nod, wanting to give into the desire bubbling up in your core, but you hesitate, wondering that perhaps you weren’t ready to take things that far just yet. Sure, you were getting a lot closer with Xiaojun by now, but you’d still only been on the one date and you were still trying to figure out exactly what you really wanted from this relationship. You weren't sure you wanted to cross that threshold until you were absolutely certain about it.

Sensing your hesitation, Xiaojun draws away slightly, respectfully allowing you space to breathe as you make up your mind. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I don’t want to rush you.” He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin just above your pants. “I’m sorry,” you murmur back, having come to a conclusion. “Can we maybe just make out?”

Your bashful request makes Xiaojun giggle as you wear a sheepish expression, a teeny bit embarrassed you’d let it go so far only to cop out on him right when things were starting to get a bit steamy. But Xiaojun smiles back at you, running a hand through his hair as he sits up, taking his weight off you. “If that’s what you want, sorry if I got a bit ahead of myself” he admits.

Gently taking your hand, Xiaojun helps you sit up, before sliding you to sit on his lap facing him. Perhaps not the best position for seeing the tv screen, but by now the film was all but forgotten about, and it was the best position for making out in. “Sorry,” you reiterate, settling on his lap with your hands placed against his chest, taking note of the apparent abs that seemed to lie under his shirt. “It’s not you or anything, I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

You speak softly wanting to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, looking down at him with adoring eyes, the lust you had felt momentarily starting to dissipate into affection. “That’s okay,” he replies, giving you a playful peck on the lips.

You respond in kind, flashing him a happy smile before choosing that moment to resume making out, your lips gently moving against his as his arms wrap around your waist in a bear-like hug holding you safely against him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body taking over as you relish in Xiaojun’s sweet embrace, feeling all your uneasiness and soreness from the day dissolving away, and xiaojun hums against your lips, apparently feeling the same.

“Hmm, perfect.”

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[imyourbuddie]

Christmas Comes A Knockin'

January 5th, 2019 

Dear Eddie,

I know you’ve only just left, but I already miss you. And Christopher misses you. Tonight we made your favourite for dinner and Chris accidentally set out three plates. It was rough, but he felt better after Papa Buck’s special hot chocolate. 

You know, I never thought I’d have much use of this notebook you gave me last Christmas, yet here we are. 

Anyway, missing you. Stay safe. 

Buck

January 30th, 2019

Eddie you jackass, 

I don’t know how to send you letters. They told me you’re on some sort of highly classified mission and there’s no communication. Seriously? Some secret military black ops bullshit and you didn’t tell me? If you die on me, Edmundo Diaz, I will kill you. You hear me? I will fucking kill you.

Buck

March 23rd, 2019

Hey Eddie,

Chris got his first ribbon today at the science fair. He’s so proud and we have pictures that we’re saving for when you get back. I know he’s not supposed to get cookies and hot chocolate before bed, but I figure we make an exception for a special night. Hope all’s well. 

Missing you.

Buck

April 1st, 2019

Hen and Chim can walk off a cliff, together. They’re too damn old to be playing April Fools tricks on me! I’m going to be eating glitter for days. Days!

Anway, missing you. Loving you.

Buck

April, 16th, 2019

Feliz cumpleaños, mi amo! See, I’m learning! Chris helped me make you a cake. It’s chocolate and we ate a slice on your behalf. Wherever you are, I hope you’re celebrating.

Missing you. Always missing you.

Buck

May 1st, 2019

Chris was called into the principal’s office today. The other little fuck face claims Chris tripped him on purpose with his cane. His bitch of a mother wanted a written apology and one day suspension. I can’t even right now. Why are people such assholes? Chris says he didn’t do it and I believe him. God, I hate people sometimes.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this without you.

Buck

May 13th, 2019

Chris and I went to the pier for his birthday. It’s kinda special and it felt easier being there when it’s just us. We had churros, cake, lemonade, and maybe that was a bit too much sugar, but he’s passed out now. Yay sugar crash. 

He says you owe him a birthday present but I got your back. Now you owe me for being so brilliantly considerate. I’ll be collecting when you get home. 

Loving you,

Buck 

June 28th, 2019

I heard gunshots coming from the cemetery while we were answering a call. I don’t know if it was a military funeral, but...they’d call me if something happened, right? You’re not so off the grid that I’ll be left wondering for the rest of my life? I’m you husband. They can’t not tell me, right? 

Eddie, please, I miss you so much.

Buck

July 3rd, 2019

Chris gave me a miniature fire truck for my birthday. He’s the sweetest child a man can ask for. Really. The gang got me a cake and Chim shoved my face in it. That asshole. It’s a good thing I love him. 

It’s not the same without you here, though. I hope you’re thinking of me. 

Buck

July 16th, 2019

We went to the aquarium today. They played Baby Shark on repeat and now all I can think about is baby shark do do do do do do do and it’s driving me nuts. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. I may or may not have thrown an octopus plushie at him over it. 

Anyway, we saw all sorts of crazy stuff, and Chris loved the dolphin show. We’ll have to go again when you get back. The mango slushie at the cafeteria is magnificent. 

Missing you always.

Buck

September 15th, 2019

I miss summer vacation. I know, getting child care is always a pain in the ass, but I loved hanging out with Chris. When I’m with him, it’s like being with a small piece of you, and that made things a little easier. Now that he’s back in school, it feels like you leaving all over again. 

It gets pretty lonely at night sometimes. Stay safe and come back to me. To us. 

Loving you.

Buck

November 11th, 2019

We’re thinking of you. All of us. 

Love,

Buck

November 28th, 2019

I made us Thanksgiving dinner at the station. Chris had a blast and the guys loved having him there. We’re both so stuffed right now we’ve not left the couch even though bedtime was half an hour ago. Chris wanted to say hi, he says I can write for him while he talks, so here goes.

Hi Daddy, 

Papa gave me the biggest slice of pumpkin pie tonight, and it was so huge I almost didn’t finish it. But I did. Denny and I got to ride in the fire truck and it’s so cool you get to ride it every day at work. Papa says it’s time for bed now, I love you Daddy, and I miss you. 

Christopher and Buck

December 5th, 2019

Why are Hallmark’s movies out already? I’m not ready. We don’t have enough tissues at the house. I need to buy more tomorrow because I used up the last box watching The Knight Before Christmas. 

Wherever you are, have a pumpkin spice latte for me.

Buck

December 5th, 2019

Eddie I couldn’t sleep, so I stared at the ceiling talking to myself, pretending you’re here next to me. Remember when you first kissed me? I thought I was drowning and you kissed me. I know it wasn’t a real kiss, you were trying to keep me alive, but our lips touched, and it brought me back, you know? You brought me back when I thought I was dying. When I was ready to give up.

You’re not here to kiss me now, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to wait until you get home to me, to Chris, and I’m going to kiss the shit out of you. 

Always loving you. 

Buck

December 16th, 2019

Chris had his Christmas concert at school today. The whole unit came to watch. Mama Grant had a camera so we can record it for you. She’s really good with that thing too, even ran to the front of the stage so she could get some closeups. Chris was fantastic. Voice of an angel, I swear. We all went for ice cream after, and no, Edmundo, it’s never too cold for ice cream. 

We put up the tree last weekend, and Chris came home with these cookie ornaments they made at school. There’s one for you, too, with your name on it, so come get it, big boy. 

Cap says we’re going to have our Christmas party on the 23rd so people can go home and celebrate with their families for actual Christmas. Carla offered to watch Chris, but I’m considering taking him with me. It’s a family friendly party, so maybe Denny will be there too. 

Anyway, this is getting long. Loving you,

Buck

December 23th, 2019

Gonna take Chris to the party with me. He’s pumped. Who knew being a parent could feel like this? 

I’m always so grateful that you let me into your little family. You gave me Chris, and he’s the best present a guy could ask for. For every Christmas for the rest of my life. 

Loving you.

Buck

===

Buck closes his notebook and tucks the pen into the elastic loop attached to the cover. His finger twitches, and he wants to open the book and write our every little thing going through his head right now. Every emotion. But he can’t. It’s too damn painful. And Eddie’s not here. 

“Papa?” Chris calls from the bathroom. “Can you help me?” 

Buck scrubs a hand down his face and clears his throat, willing the prickle of tears to go away. “Yeah, bud, be right there.” 

When he pops his head into the bathroom, Chris is struggling with his bowtie. Buck wanted to get him a pre-tied one, but Chris insisted on the real deal. There’s a little card that came with the tie with diagrams on how to make the bow. Buck studies it, tries and fails a couple times, but eventually he gets a semi decent looking bow that sits snug under the collar of Chris’ shirt. 

“There you go,” he says, patting down the lapels of Chris’ suit jacket. 

“Thanks, Papa.” 

Buck’s chest swells, like it does every time Chris calls him Papa. It started as Papa Buck, but somewhere between Buck moving in and his and Eddie’s wedding, he became just Papa. It was a little strange at first, but it didn’t take long before Buck forgets that Chris isn’t his biological son. He loves Chris the same way he loves Maddie and his parents, but even more so because he never knew he could be so fiercely protective of a single human being. 

Some days, Buck muses he loves Chris more than he loves Eddie, and that’s saying something.

Buck stares into the mirror, his eyes meeting Chris’, and they both smile. “Ready?” Buck asks as he straightens his tie. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Chris leads the way, and Buck follows him out of the bathroom, through the living room, and out the front door. December in LA is mild at best, but Buck shivers as he helps Chris into the car. He looks behind him, then around, but there’s no one there. 

“Hm.” 

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks. 

Buck looks over his shoulder once more, then shakes his head. “Nothing, little man, let’s go.”

The drive to the station is uneventful, but Buck can’t shake that weird feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach. They pull into the parking lot just as Hen, Karen, and Denny pile out of their car, and Buck’s glad he decided to bring Chris afterall. 

Bobby’s whole family is here too, along with Michael, and as the spiked eggnog got passed around more than once, that uneasy feeling dissipates into something warm and fuzzy. Buck’s a little buzzed, but only enough to take the edge off. 

Chris, Denny, and Harry are off playing somewhere. Buck finds a spot with line of sight to the children and takes a seat, cradling his overstuffed stomach. He doesn’t know why he does this, but he just can’t stop himself from overeating when it’s a holiday. It’s a good thing he’s surrounded by LA’s finest paramedics incase he keels over from too much turkey. 

The upstairs lounge is buzzing with people. Firefighters and their families, and Buck tries not to let Eddie’s absence dampen his Christmas spirit. The rest of his family is right here, and he loves and cherishes them, and having Chris here makes up for the fact that Eddie isn’t. 

And that’s enough. It has to be. 

Buck contemplates a third eggnog, but decides against it. They still need to get home after, and Buck will be damned if he puts Chris’ life in danger just because he’s feeling a little maudlin and a lot lonely. He heaves out of the chair and heads for the trays of cookies and pastries laid out on a long table. If he can’t drink his sorrows away, he’ll just eat his feelings tonight instead. 

Somewhere behind him, Chris gasps. Buck’s heart drops through the floor and he spins to find Chris making a mad dash for the stairs. He acts before he’s had time to process, and he’s running up behind Chris, who’s half way down the first flight of stairs, before he sees what Chris is running towards. 

Or who. 

Down in the engine bay is a lone figure dressed in army fatigues with the brightest hazel eyes Buck’s ever known. His heart jumps into his throat, and the hubbub of the party fades as his eyes meet Eddie’s for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. 

They stand there, frozen, staring at each other, and a million things pass in that wide chasm between them. A whole year’s worth of fear and sadness and loneliness. Of love and longing and hope. Buck gets a little lightheaded, and that’s when he realizes he’s been holding his breath. He huffs, and with that single breath, every doubt he’s had this year flows out of him.

Eddie’s lips twitch into a rueful smile, that smile splitting impossibly wide when he sees Chris coming around the corner and down the second flight of stairs. 

“Daddy!” Chris’ jubilant shout breaks the freezing spell Eddie and Buck are under, and they move in sync. 

“Christopher, mijo. I’ve missed you so so much.” Eddie’s muffled voice drifts up as he clutches Chris to his chest. 

When Buck finally, finally makes his way down the steps, he stops just short. 

He’s dreamt of this moment, played it in his head over and over and over, imagined every possible way it could play out, but everything he imagined pales in comparison. Buck’s chest aches in that bittersweet, delicious way he never knew he could feel, and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t ruin the moment. Just don’t, Buck. 

Eddie looks up over Chris’ head, and his red-rimmed eyes glisten with unshed tears. And that fucking does it. Buck’s eyes burn, and his nose stuffs up even more as he heaves for breath. His vision blurs, and everything turns into a watery mosaic. Eddie reaches for him, Chris still tucked against his chest, and Buck steps into the embrace like his life depends on it. 

When Buck’s arms wrap around Eddie’s actual, solid form, every dam he put up breaks, and the first of many sobs heaves out of him. Chris turns around, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck, and then Eddie’s lips are on his skin. Warm, dry, and a little chapped. 

They’re on the floor, and Chris is in Buck’s lap, and Eddie’s hands are cupping Buck’s cheeks and Buck can’t fucking breathe. Can’t fucking see because his eyes are leaking like broken faucets. But he doesn’t need to see to know Eddie’s here, in his arms, and his presence is answer enough to all of Buck’s unanswered letters.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie rasps, his lips hovering on the corner of Buck’s mouth. 

Buck wants to say something, anything, but all that comes out is another sob. Eddie chuckles, then his lips press against Buck’s in a soft, chaste kiss. “Evan, Ev, I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Papa missed you,” Chris pipes up between them. 

Eddie’s eyes mist, and his arms slip around Buck’s shoulders. “I missed Papa too. Missed you both so, so much.” 

“Are you coming home, Daddy?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and his bright eyes lock on Buck’s with a conviction. “I’m coming home. For good.”

[fletchphoenix]

I’ll See You When I Fall Asleep

Hi All! This is Chapter 10 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU! Also!! A lot of you have asked and yes, I do have an Ao3 where I cross-post called ‘fletchphoenix’ too! Anyway, thank you for all your support and onwards with the chapter!!

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Thunder rumbled and lightning crackled outside the window as Varian shook, holding a small test tube in his hands. Where even was he? His eyes weren’t adjusting properly, until the sudden flick of a lightswitch brought about a blinding light. Varian attempted to cover his eyes to block it out, his attempts not working in the slightest. He lowered his arms with a frown and glanced around the room as he regained his vision slowly. Nothing seemed right here - a fantastical vibe surrounded the whole room as he took in all the small details.

    The room was dank, the aroma of rotting wood filling the room which, coinciding with the light, made for an awful pairing that made Varian queasy. Uneven, cobbled floor made his feet slip slightly and he struggled to keep his balance as he felt himself feeling sicker and sicker. There was almost no natural light in the room either - only one half-oval window that sat above a creaky table, covered in journals and various scientific apparatus that he had used many times. A raccoon sat on the table too, snoring with a large sheet of paper lying underneath it. The cause of the bright lights were around six lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and now that his eyes had time to brace themselves, he could see it really wasn’t that bright, with an eerie mood being set in the room. Paper and chalk also littered the wall with frantic scribbles about something he didn’t understand. The sundrop…? He didn’t know. The thing that put him off..were the rocks.

  Black rocks shot out of the ground in clumps of two or three, reaching so high they almost pierced the rotting ceiling of the makeshift laboratory. He reached out and rapped his fist against the rock quietly - it seemingly was not breaking. Huh, invincible black rocks? Makeshift labs in an ancient house? It was strange how much they put him off, unease building in his stomach for some reason unbeknownst to him. His eyes set on a large figure in the middle of the room, covered by a towering sheet with small patches of different fabric scattered over the sheet. The stitching looked poor though, as though someone who’d never sewn before had done it. Come to think of it, his clothes were the same, a cyan shirt with a patch on the left arm that was significantly darker than the rest of the fabric. The shirt, however, was almost completely covered by a leather apron, also swamping the brown trousers that he was wearing, stopping shy from the top of his boots. It didn’t seem right for him to be wearing this. A frown crept onto his face as he rested his hands on the sheet, taking in a deep breath before pulling it away and revealing the thing it was concealing. A gasp left his mouth and he doubled over, taking in sharp breaths as the tears instantly built in his eyes. His head shot back up to stare at the sight in front of him.

  A hard, amber substance twisted in harsh turns, sharp spikes of it trailing high and curling at points. His boyfriend was trapped in the amber, his hand outstretched with a note in his hand, a clear expression of pain on his face forever. Tears welled in his eyes and rolled freely down his cheek, his shaky steps inching closer to the amber and his hands resting on it. “Hugo?” he whispered, unsure of whether his father could even hear him from his crystallised prison. 

  “Varian, what have you done?” Varian’s head snapped around to see Rapunzel, hands raised to cover her mouth in shock of the scene unfolding in front of her. She looked so frightened - but not of the amber, of him. She looked different too - blonde locks that must’ve measured over sixty feet were tied back into a mix between a ponytail and a braid replaced her brunette bob. She also wore a purple dress, akin to one an elegant princess would wear. He opened his mouth to say something, before being rudely interrupted.

  “This is all your fault.” Another voice. Eugene’s. He slowly moved from the darkness and placed his hands on Rapunzel’s shoulder, her turning back to wrap her arms round him in a fearful embrace. He glared coldly at Varian, as if he’d done something wrong. 

  More and more voices joined the symphony of blaming Varian, each declaration cutting deeper and deeper each time. He covered his ears, a futile attempt to try and block all of the noise out but it only got louder and louder. People he loved were calling him a monster. All except for..

  “Hugo! Hugo, I’m so sorry!” he cried out, forcing himself to raise his head and eyes darting around the room and staring at the prison of the boy he loved so dearly that he’d created. He couldn’t bear to look at his frozen corpse, too many people crowding and screaming at him about his faults. It was all becoming too much. The yelling, the closeness..he couldn’t handle it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, moving closer and closer towards the floor. “Hugo!” 

  “HUGO! He yelled and sat up, grasping the bedsheets and letting out heavy, shaky breaths, startling the safe, sleeping form of his boyfriend beside him. His knees curled against his chest, trying to steady his breathing to no avail as his small form shook with every sob that left his mouth. Sweat formed a gross blanket over his skin, presumably from his body reacting to the panic he was feeling. What even was that place? Why did everyone look so different? Why wasn’t Hugo there? The questions flooding his head only caused more stress to take its toll on his body as his breathing quickened once again. 

  “Varian.” His boyfriend’s voice called from beside him, “Hey, can I touch you? Is that okay?” he questioned, Varian giving a small nod before Hugo’s hands rubbed soothing circles onto his back carefully in an attempt to help comfort him until he was ready to talk. Still shaking, Varian leaned in closer to his boyfriend, comfortably moving so they were laying down in a gentle embrace, swaying slightly as Hugo whispered sweet nothings to his boyfriend and placing kisses to the top of his head. “Hey, whatever it was, it wasn’t real. I’m here now and you’re safe. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  As he felt more comfortable and safe, he looked at Hugo’s face. Concern covered it - his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he held Varian’s hands in his own, peppering kisses over them. “I..woke up in a lab. I didn’t recognise it. It was covered with all there..black rocks that stuck out of the ground. And there was amber in the middle. You were stuck inside. Everyone was yelling at me and saying it was all my fault. It was terrifying, Hugo. I couldn’t breathe. I just..” his arms tightened around the blonde, gripping the fabric of his shirt. “I was so scared that I’d hurt you. That I’d actually lost you..I don’t want to lose you, Hugh. I love you too much.” he whispered against his boyfriend’s shoulder, the muscles underneath his shirt tensing tremendously in reaction to his words. 

  Hugo sat in silence, holding the boy closer to him and staring blankly at the wall. How..how could he respond to that? Amber..? Black rocks? He let out an exasperated sigh as he pet the hair of the younger boy. He’d never seen his boyfriend so distraught over a nightmare, the other gripping his shirt as they embraced. He reached for his glasses, putting them on before picking up his phone to check the time. 3:54am. Well, they weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon anyway, he decided before shuffling back in the embrace, resting his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. “How about we put on one of those crappy romance films you love so much and make some hot cocoa? How does that sound, sweetheart?” The sight of Varian’s slight smile and a nod was all the confirmation he needed. “Okay love, you go make the cocoa and I’ll sort out the snacks. After all, you are the cocoa master.” He added with a chuckle before swinging his legs over the bed, pushing the fuzzy slippers Varian had randomly bought him one day onto his feet and striding down the hall to the living room.

  He set up a mini bed for them on the sofa, bringing over a blanket and pillows for the both of them. He knew Varian’s would go unused though, the younger would most likely opt to lay on top of him with his head on his chest, not that he was complaining. More pillows for him, he thought with a grin as he walked into the adjacent room to get some snacks. Passing his boyfriend, he decided on a wide variety, including candy, chocolate and some ice cream in case that’s what Varian decided to opt for. He glanced over at his boyfriend, whose attention was solely focused on making the perfect beverage for both of them. A lovestruck smile drifted onto his face as he strutted over, placing an unexpected kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, throwing off his concentration for a split second. “Smells wonderful babe, keep up the immaculate work and maybe I’ll teach you the art of making the perfect vanilla latte. Who knows?” Varian chuckled, Hugo silently praising himself for making the boy smile at least a little bit before heading into the living room, an abundance of snacks in his arms.

  Carefully he set them out on the table, being sure to empty out a packet of cat food for Ruddiger into his ceramic bowl, the cat graciously jumping from his perch on the cat tower and beginning his meal. Hugo rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips at his peace offering being accepted so willingly by his arch-nemesis. Hopefully now the cat would let him spend some time alone with his boyfriend, letting them cuddle on the sofa and watch one of Varian’s….admittedly terrible romance films free from any intrusion from the attention whore. 

  He understood the cat’s worry though - according to Varian, he’d taken him in when he was a kitten and extremely malnourished, taking care of him. From then on, Ruddiger had been extremely loyal to Varian, never straying from his human’s side (because let's be real, Ruddiger owned Varian, not the other way around. That cat had almost everyone wrapped around it’s metaphorical finger and it knew that...terrifyingly well) even when he’d executed some very much illegal acts in the name of helping his father. 

  Hugo didn’t blame Varian for his past, loving the boy either way. His dedication was difficult for the other to understand. He’d never really learnt to form any bonds with...well, anyone. Having no parents and growing up in an orphanage that couldn’t have cared less about any of the kids there didn’t help either, even after Donella ‘adopted’ him, it still didn’t do anything. Varian was the only person he’d ever really had an official relationship with, the rest just being out of boredom and the complete and utter loneliness he’d felt because of the distance Donella had put between him and her. He never really had anyone there for him, so he’d just keep on using people for his own personal means and throwing them away without so much of a glance back with no remorse when he was finally done with them. He knew it was wrong - that he was hurting people who didn’t warrant it - but he just didn’t care at all at the time, because he knew he’d never see them again. Right? He guessed that was it - devotion never coming easy to him anyway, so of course it would be a difficult concept for him to grasp anyway. He let out a sigh and laid down on the sofa, pulling the blanket over himself quietly before scrolling through his phone and waiting for his boyfriend to join him.

  “Heya Hugh.” Varian called as he entered the living room, setting the mugs down on the coffee table in front of them beside the snacks before shuffling under the covers, sitting in between his boyfriend’s legs with his back pressed against his chest. Hugo reached out to grab their mugs and sipped the hot cocoa, making a slight moan of satisfaction. “Oh my god, this is so good, Varian!” he cried as he kept chugging the delicious drink, an arm wrapping around his waist, giving his boyfriend time to push it away if he wanted. Varian didn’t seem to mind, already turning on the film and beginning to eat his ice cream happily. 

  They sat in silence for a while, Varian watching his film and Hugo drifting in and out of sleep repeatedly. The only thing keeping him awake was the occasional sound of his boyfriend’s laughter or mumbling to himself at how ridiculous a certain character was being. It was kind of adorable listening to the younger man rant under his breath about something completely fictitious. He kept his gaze on Varian happily before a frown developed on his face. That dream Varian had sounded terrifying, if he was being honest, and it scared him to death. Just how much self loathing was the boy harbouring without even speaking up? Sure, he’d done some bad things in the past, but everyone had forgiven him for that, so why couldn’t Varian forgive himself? It weighed on Hugo’s mind, his nimble fingers tracing small circles onto the other’s stomach gently to keep himself grounded. 

  “You’re thinking so hard, I can almost hear the cogs in your head turning.” Varian commented, not even looking at his boyfriend as he kept his eyes focused on the TV. “If you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking about, I’m fine. It was just a dumb nightmare that really spooked me at first. I was so scared of the concept that I’d lost you for good that I couldn’t breathe or even focus. I didn’t even know what I’d done or if I’d even done anything, I’d just accepted that yes, it WAS all my fault. What I did in the past was...well, it was atrocious in all honesty..but that doesn’t reflect who I am at all. You know who I am. I was just so lost without my father, and I couldn’t turn to my mother...I felt like everyone had turned their back on me and that I wasn’t even deserving of the very air I breathed. It’s gonna take me awhile to forgive myself for what I did to Rapunzel and Eugene and, well, everyone. But I’ll get there. Okay?”

  Hugo’s fingers braided a section of Varian’s hair as he spoke, taking in every word he spoke and giving it time to process, admiring his work mid-speech. “Okay doll, I just don’t want you thinking I’m gonna just..up and leave one day, y’know? You know about my old reputation in senior year..how I’d date around and leave a trail of broken hearts behind me but..I just want you to know I’m serious when I say I’m fully committed to you, okay? I adore you for all I’m worth. I’ve never met a guy as spectacular as you are, but I would never ask for anyone different. Varian, I really do love you.” Hugo confessed, subconsciously pulling the boy closer to his chest and shutting his eyes. “More than you’ll ever know. You’ve taught me...so so much about unconditional love and what it takes to be so in love you’d do anything for them so...thank you. Just- thank you.”

  “Aw, Hugo being sappy? Are you the real Hugo or are you an imposter?” Varian said with a grin and a laugh, leaning his head back before closing his eyes. “Let’s just watch the movie, babe...okay? I love you too, for the record.” he whispered back, intertwining their fingers. And thus, the boys slowly drifted into a deep slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms and ready to face whatever the universe threw at them.

Well, almost anything the universe threw at them.

  They awoke, limbs tangled, on the couch to a loud banging at the door. Hugo groaned, rubbing his eyes as he slowly started to sit up, Varian stirring too on his chest. “Who the fuck is here and why the hell are they banging the door so goddamn loud?!” he exclaimed, Varian removing himself from his boyfriend’s lap and heading towards the door. Hugo didn’t understand. Does no one in this modern age have any respect for anyone? All he wanted to do was cuddle his boyfriend on the couch all morning before the inevitable angry texts from Donella swarmed his phone.

  Oh shit. What if it was Donella at the door? Oh god. He’d ever introduced Varian to his side of the family (and quite frankly, he didn’t want to, considering how...dysfunctional it was. It wasn’t even officially a family unit, Donella only being a mother figure) and he didn’t want Varian to meet her when she was mad. Donella had a supernatural strength when she was mad - not even kidding, he’d seen her make one of the strongest men in the workshop, a man who had LITERALLY been nicknamed ‘Skullcrusher’ when he was in a gang for...obvious reasons, cry like a baby on the floor. It was a feat in its own right, however he didn’t want Varian to suffer through that same treatment. He hurried into the hall. “Hey Goggles?-” He froze.

  There was a woman at the door. Her ginger hair was tied into a neat bun, fringe falling and stopping just above her right eyebrow. She had the same eyes as Varian, except a slightly more vibrant, electric blue than his beloved’s,  along with freckles scattered all over her face, hands and what was visible of her arms. She was slightly taller than his boyfriend, still smaller than him, but nonetheless she still possessed some height over Varian. She looked exactly like the woman in Donella’s pictures, the one who used to be her old research partner...though who was she?

  He walked over and rested his hand on Varian’s back, leaning forward slightly to catch a glimpse of his face. He looked astonished and shocked - his mouth and eyes wide in amazement as he spared no mind to Hugo, solely focused on the woman in front of him. His hands shook slightly as he pulled them to his sides. “Mom..?” Varian hardly whispered, taking a step towards the woman, who reached her hand out to cup his cheek gently.

  “Varian-” She called out, a soft smile on her face and tears building in her eyes as she took him into a hug. Oh, yeah. Now Hugo could place the name, his eyes narrowing in disdain towards the woman before him. She was the one who had stopped Donella’s progress in the scientific field, stealing her research and disappearing to the other ends of the earth. She was the one who had ruined her life, and consequently, his too. Her eyes met his and she smiled slightly, extending her hand out to him. “Oh, where are my manners? Let me introduce myself, I’m Ulla. Ulla Ruddiger.” 

  His boyfriend’s mother was his motherly figure’s worst enemy.

  Brilliant.

[lumiolivier]

The Good Old Days Chapter Nine:  Beauty and the Streets

A/N:  Hi, friends!  Look.  I’m just going to come out and say this now.  This is my favorite chapter title so far.  I don’t know why, but I love it so much.  So, reward my hard ass work with some validation.  Not to sound desperate, but fuuuuuuck.  Anyway, you know where I’ll be if you need me, k? x

ICYMI:  Chapter Eight:  The Power of Observation

I had a feeling deep in my bones that the training I’d have to go through in order to take over for the Old Man someday would be extensive.  There was bound to be parts of said training I wasn’t going to be all that big of a fan.  Being holed up in a dressing room of some ritzy ass department store?  Definitely securing a cozy spot in the top five.  I could feel the weird looks the second I walked in.  What the hell is a piece of shit like me doing in a place like this?  Am I the Old Man’s charity case?  Am I his sugar baby?  Are we even in here together?  Am I lost? At least with the door closed, no one can see me.  No one can cast their unnecessary judgment.

 “Hey, Old Man…” That didn’t mean my skin crawled any less, “Is this all really necessary?”

 “Yes,” he answered flatly.

 “But…!”

 “It’s non-negotiable, Frankie,” the Old Man put his foot down, “This girl deserves a little bit of effort, don’t you think?”

 “Yeah, but…”

 “I’m not hearing it, Frankie,” he shut me up, “Take your bitching elsewhere.  It’s barely a step up from what you already got.  You make it sound like you’re being forced to sleep in a three-piece suit.”

 “Top hat and tails,” I jabbed.

 “Alright, smartass,” the Old Man let that one slide.  Gracias a dios.  I thought he would’ve handed my ass to me for something like that, “Subtlety is key with anything.  Like this. It’s not a drastic change by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s just enough of an upgrade to make a slight impact.  If you work in layers with subtlety, the world is yours.  It’s like they say with the frog in the water.”

 “I’m not following you, Old Man.”

 “If you put a frog in boiling water,” he explained, “It’ll want to jump out immediately, right? Water’s too hot.”

 “Right.”

 “But,” he added, “If you put the frog in cold water and gradually heat it, the frog has no idea it’s being boiled alive.”

 “Things aren’t working out too well for the frog,” I noticed, “I feel him.”

 “How did your mama ever put up with you, Frankie?”

 “I had two older brothers that made me look better in comparison.  I’m the fucking golden child.”

 “Just…” I heard the Old Man lean against the wall, “Anything that doesn’t look like you got into a fight with a chain link fence.  Or just escaped prison.  I don’t ask much for you.”

 “Fine,” I rolled my eyes, fully dressed again.  Nothing had a hole in it.  Nothing had been fixed.  Everything was in its original state, “There.  Better?”

 “Considerably,” he approved.  But then, a woman came up behind him.  A real beauty, too.  Damn, Old Man…

 She started getting a little closer with him.  Her arms were wrapped around his.  Damn, Old Man…I see you, “How are you doing, Gregorio?  Do you need anything?”

 “I’m wonderful, sweetheart,” the Old Man put her hands up to his lips, “Thank you.  I appreciate it, but I think we got it handled.  Ok?”

 “Ok…” the woman floated away, heavily swooning.  I didn’t get it.  I mean, the Old Man wasn’t the worst looking creature in the world, but somehow, it was more than that.  

 “And that, my dear Frankie,” he threw an arm around me, “is how that’s done.”

 “What did you just do?” I wondered, still totally fucking dumbfounded.

 “You know how I told you to work in subtlety?”

 “Yeah.”

 “That’s how you work in subtlety,” the Old Man took great pride in his work.

 “How many do you got on the hook at once?” I asked.

 “On average?” he thought it over, “Probably four or five, depending on the day.  Would you ever guess I didn’t remember her name?”

 “You don’t even remember her name?” I gasped, “Damn, Old Man.  If you don’t mind me saying this, you’re a fucking hound.”

 “I do what I can,” the Old Man shrugged.

 “So,” I assumed, “That’s why you called her sweetheart.  It makes her feel all special and warm and fuzzy inside while simultaneously saving your own ass.”

 “You’re a quick study, kid,” he smiled, “I’m proud of you.”

 “Thanks, Old Man,” I melted inside.  Just a little bit.

 “I got you taken care of,” the Old Man started pulling price tags off, “You go wait by the door, so they don’t think you’re stealing.”

 “Ok.” I wasn’t going to fight with him.  I’m pretty sure that receipt alone could pay next month’s rent.  That’s not a bill I need to see.  Chances are, I’d throw up.  This was way too fucking nice for someone like me.  I mean, I know it’s going to be me one day, but I didn’t think that one day would come this soon.  Surprises are neat.  And if I do say so myself, I look damn good…

 But none of that mattered. I was about to get the girl.  In a few short minutes, I was going to get the girl. I was going to have my second chance. Unless she stands me up or Veronica didn’t get to her in time or some bullshit like that.  Because that’s my level of cosmic luck.  I hoped to all things holy, unholy, and morally neutral that I’d be able to sit down at the Bean and see her walk in and suddenly have Sixpence None the Richer playing in the background for some ungodly reason. Because it fits.  That’s why.  

 “Hey, Frankie,” the Old Man started walking out.  I’m guessing it’s safe to follow him without setting off the alarms, “Where did you say you were taking this girl again?”

 “The Bean,” I told him, “Why?”

 “I like the Bean,” he smiled a bit, “It’s cozy, quaint, public.  Very old Williamsburg.  And if you go at the right time of the day, the people watching is excellent.”

 “That’s a little unsettling…”

 “It helps with the whole art of observation thing,” the Old Man threw the car door open, “But it’s a little late in the day for me to hit up the Bean.  Peak hours are between eight and nine.”

 “Why do you say that?” I wondered.

 “Old people and hipsters,” he giggled, “Hell of a mix.  The old people don’t know how to react to the hipsters.  The hipsters don’t know what to think of the old people.  The chaos is beautiful, kid.  Like watching art come to life.”

 “Hey, Old Man…” I could hardly sit still, “I…”

 “You’re nervous, aren’t you, Frankie?”

 I hate when he does that, “Yeah.  That obvious?”

 “To a well-trained eye,” he nodded, “What’s got you worried?”

 “What if she doesn’t show up?”

 “Then, you still got coffee today,” the Old Man settled me, “Then, you took yourself out.  It’s not a bad thing to be by yourself once in a while, Frankie.  I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of that.”

 “Not really,” I admitted. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t get much time to myself.  More often than not, I’d be with my brothers or I’d be with Mama or I’d be with someone. I was hardly ever alone.  I always thought that was a good thing.

 “Then, even if she doesn’t show up,” he assured me, “This is not all for naught.  And at the end of the day, you still need to come back to the Narrows.  I got a few places coming up on their collection dues and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not go do that.  For the plain and simple fact that I don’t want to.  That’s what I have you for.”

 “I know,” I sat and bounced my knee a little more, needing for this excess energy to go somewhere.

 “Tell you what, kid,” the Old Man put a hand on my shoulder, “If this doesn’t go over and you’re stuck here by yourself, we’ll scrap your collection job tonight and do something fun, k?”

 “Thanks, Old Man,” I smiled a bit, “I appreciate it.”

 “That’s what I’m here for,” the car pulled up to the curb.  Holy shit, that was fast, “Now, go on, Frankie.  Go make me proud.  Go get your girl.”

 “That was the plan,” I pushed myself out of the back of the Old Man’s town car and took a step toward the door.

 “Hold on!” the Old Man rolled his back window down.

 “Did you need something?” I wondered.

 “Here,” he peeled off a hundred and put it in my hand, “You don’t need to be running out of money while you’re here.”

 “Old Man…” I gasped, “I’m good.  This is a little…”

 “Nope,” the Old Man cut me off, “Don’t give me that.  Go on, kid. Go get your girl.”

 I looked back up at the Bean’s sign, but when I turned around to yell at the Old Man some more, he was already gone.  Dammit…Well…Here goes nothing.  I walked into the Bean and ordered an espresso and a chocolate chip cookie. Hopefully, the espresso will help calm my nerves a little.  Either that or it’s going to amplify them at least tenfold.  That’s the gamble I’m willing to make.  Please show up, Vanessa.  I don’t care if it’s to spit on my shoes.  I just need to see your face again.  The Old Man might be a little pissed about you spitting on brand new shoes, but I need to see that face.

 “Frankie…?” a husky, yet gentle voice came up behind me.

 Holy shit, it’s her. Yet…This was different.  I got a better look at her in the light.  Power of observation, just like the Old Man said. Slight rip in her jacket sleeve, designer bag, chai latte in her hand, and legs for days…Dios mio, “Yeah…Hi.”

 “Hi,” she smiled, glancing over at the empty seat, “Do you mind?”

 “Please,” I insisted, “Not at all.”

 “So,” Vanessa sat across from me, “I hear you met my little sister earlier this afternoon.”

 “I hear you met my oldest brother last night,” I retaliated with no intentions of getting so defensive. It’s just a default setting.  And now, I feel kind of bad.

 “I’m assuming he was your brother,” she thought, “He said his name was César and said his brother thought I was cute.”

 “Hold on,” I stopped her, “Did he specifically say Frankie or did he say Tony?”

 “He said Frankie,” she assured, “Promise.  But it wasn’t a half bad idea to use Veronica as a go-between.”

 “I wanted to ask you about that,” I told her, “What did you mean you had eyes on you last night?”

 “Just that,” Vanessa started to relax, “My sister.  Violet, not Veronica.  She’s a total fucking narc.  Veronica would take my secrets to the grave.  She knows about loyalty and solidarity between siblings.  Violet would sell me out to our mother for Costco samples.”

 “Hey…” I hushed her, “Don’t knock Costco samples.  Those are worth the membership.”

 “Sorry,” she sighed out, “Violet gets me stressed.”

 “Here,” I broke my cookie in half and handed the other half off to her, “You look like you could use this more than me.”

 “What are we, five?” Vanessa giggled.  I didn’t care about that.  All I needed was to get her to smile again.  I’d hate to see that go away.

 “So what if we are?”

 “Alright,” she gladly accepted my offer, “Frankie…There are some things about me…They’re not exactly desirable.”

 “Really?” I had a hard time believing she was into anything shady.  Considering my recent employment, I doubt she could surprise me, “Try me.”

 “My last name is Scarlotti,” Vanessa confessed, picking at the cardboard ring around her cup, “My family owns half this city.  It’s maddening.”

 “Wait,” I wondered, keeping my voice down, “Do you come from mafia?”

 “No,” she shook her head, “Nothing like that.  My family’s business is a lot more legit than that.  But it doesn’t make it any less like hell.”

 “What makes you say that?”

 “Well,” Vanessa sipped from her latte, “It’s the expectations that come along with it. It’s not so much my dad, but it’s my mother.  You’re Mommy’s perfect princess.  Her debutant. Every action you do immediately reflects on the family, Vanessa.  It’s just…It’s bullshit…And…I’m venting…I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to vent, but…I just…”

 “Vanessa,” I spoke softly, doing my best to calm her down, “It’s alright.”

 “Really?” her spiral slowed, “I’m not scaring you off or anything?”

 “Not at all,” I swore, “Trust me.  I’ve seen my fair share of hell.”

 “I know I should be grateful for the life I have,” she started working on her half of cookie, “Because it could always be worse.  That’s why Violet took me to Williamsburg last night.  She wanted me to see how much worse it could be.  But…”

 “But?” I wondered.

 “I love coming down to Williamsburg,” Vanessa smiled, “If I had my way, I’d live down here instead of the Upper East Side.  I love the little cafés and the clubs down here and…Just the pulse of the city.  It beats different down here than what it does up there.  Manhattan’s a different monster.  But something about coming down to Williamsburg…I have yet to find somewhere else in all five boroughs where I feel more comfortable than here.”

 “I know how you feel,” I gave her a nod, “I’ve lived in Williamsburg for as long as I can remember. But every once in a while, I wondered what it’d be like to live up in Manhattan.  The upper echelons.  The other half.  But at the end of the day, even if I did have the means to move uptown, I don’t think I could do it.  This is still home.  It always will be.”

 “I envy you…” she was quiet for a second, but then, she came to again, looking at me confused, “Why am I telling you all this?”

 “My mother always said I had one of those faces,” I shrugged, “Really and truly, Vanessa, it’s alright.  If you need to vent, then you need to vent.  It’s really not a problem.  Don’t worry about it.  If you want to vent, keep going.  If you want to change the subject, I totally understand.  I’ll leave it up to you.”

 “Better conversation topic please,” Vanessa decided, “Besides, I feel like all I’ve done since I sat down is ramble on about me.  I want to hear more about you.  I already know enough about me.”

 “But,” I caught a glimpse of a clock, not needing to go down the rabbit hole of my tragic backstory quite yet, “We don’t have much time together.”

 “Then…” The Old Man told me to keep an eye on someone’s hands.  What they do when they’re nervous.  Where they are.  But I suddenly found her hand in mine.  They’re…so soft, “We should make the most of the time we have together, shouldn’t we?”

 “What class are you leaving me for anyway?” I teased, hoping I didn’t cut too deep.

 “Communications,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Yay.”

 “You don’t need it,” I brushed her off, “I think you communicate just fine.  See?  And I didn’t even need a degree to tell you that.”

 “You’re cute,” she giggled a bit…That laugh…It’s fucking adorable, “As much as I’d love to believe you, I need this class.  Then, hello, graduation day…in two years.”

 “What’s your major?” I asked.

 “Law.” Holy shit, this girl’s going to be a fucking lawyer?  And she’s sniffing around me?  Oh, Vanessa, you are definitely the kind of girl that was put in my path at the right time.  That’s for damn sure, “I’m debating between going into estate planning or being a defense attorney.”

 “Why not both?” I suggested, “A girl like you.  You seem like your brain could handle it.”

 “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, “But I only have so much in the trust fund.  I need to spend it smart.”

 “I could think of worse ways to spend it,” I figured, “Could pick up a gambling problem…Cocaine…Maybe hookers, if you were feeling particularly spicy one night.”

 “No,” Vanessa laughed some more, “I’ll stick with an education, but thank you.  Your suggestions were greatly appreciated.”

 “If you don’t mind me asking,” I wondered, “Why the hell would you want to go into estate planning?”

 “Are you kidding?” her eyes lit up, sparkling more now than when we first met, “Do you know what kind of front row seat I’d have to some of the most knockdown, drag out family drama? Some of the families my family is connected to, when they’ve had major deaths that involve big wills…Oh, they’re fucking bloodbaths.  The closest of relatives are suddenly the worst of enemies.  Someone gets written out while they’re still alive.  It is an absolute disaster.  From a purely psychological standpoint, it’s fascinating to watch.  Kind of like watching animals at the zoo.  It’s amazing what lengths some people would go through for someone else’s money or their possessions after they’re dead.  It’s so pointless, but it’s still fun to watch.”

 “You know,” I started to worry about this girl and what kind of mental state she was in. However, she had a point.  And a damn good one, “That’s kind of twisted.”

 “I know,” she bit on her lip, “But I can’t help it.  I don’t start the drama, but I sure as hell don’t mind being the occasional spectator.”

 “That’s still kind of twisted…”

 “It’s the same principle as watching a soap opera,” Vanessa shrugged unapologetic, “Only it’s real life and in front of my eyes.”

 I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t watched my fair share of Telemundo with Mama over the years, so I got it, “I like you, Vanessa…”

 “I like you, too,” her smile melted me to my very core.  I think I could keep this one around.  For a little while anyway.  But then, she caught a glimpse of her watch, “Shit…I need to be going.  I hate to run, but…”

 “It’s alright,” I let it go, “I understand.”

 “Thank you,” Vanessa got up from her seat.  

 This was it.  I needed to shoot my shot and shoot it big. This time, I’m not blowing it, “Hey, Vanessa?”

 “Hmm?” she threw her bag over her shoulder.

 “Can I call you tonight?” I asked.

 “Sure,” Vanessa allowed, “How about around nine o’clock?  I should be home.”

 “If I can get a spare minute,” I nodded, “I have to work tonight.”

 “I really hope you do,” she played with a stray lock of her hair, “Because…I’m glad I gave you a second chance.”

 “I’m glad you gave me a second chance, too,” my heart started racing.  Damn near ready to burst out of my chest.

 “It was nice meeting you, Frankie,” Vanessa waved behind her.

 “You, too…” I hated to see her go…But damn, to watch that girl leave was like a work of art.

 Vanessa…She’s definitely something.  That’s for sure.  She’s definitely got some of that debutant in her.  There’s no doubt about it.  But there’s more.  There’s so much more.  There’s a sadist…There’s a sweetheart.  There’s a caged bird begging to be set free.  And if I’m the one to do that, then so be it.  I’d be happy to.  Now that I think about it, I really and truly hated to see her go.  It’s too bad we didn’t get to spend a little more time together.  She didn’t need to be late for her class.  

 And I got to share my cookie with her.  Not to be that guy about it, but I hadn’t shared a cookie with someone since I was probably five.  Dammit, Vanessa, you were right.  Go ahead, corazón.  I won’t stop you.  Now, what to do, what to do.  Dare I go back to the Narrows?  No.  I think I should head home first.  I’m sure someone’s worried about me.  I haven’t been home all day.  And I barely left a note for Tony and César.  Besides, they needed to know about her, too.

[hclfhearted-a]

21, 32, 40, 41, 42, 43

RANDOM OC QUESTIONS    /     @sunbruise​​

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

she does have a bit of a temper, though it’s quick. if she gets frustrated enough, she might snap for a moment but then she just fizzles out && then just immediately goes to upset silence. when she loses her temper, she isn’t going to hit anyone or be physical in any way, but she might shout or cry when she’s angry - especially when it’s from frustration. lillian is a big fan of the silent treatment, but that’s probably from her parent’s influence who used to do it to her when they were angry at her. she is absolutely not patient - she’s impatient as hell, but given the situation she’s more likely just to rant in her head about it than actually take it out on the person (such as in cases of it being at a restaurant, for example) as she knows it’s probably not the person’s fault && it’s not going to kill her to wait a couple more minutes for something. If it’s towards friends, or people that know her well enough that they probably won’t get angry with her for her impatience, she might let out a whiny, ‘come on’ or ‘hurry up’.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

due to her thin blood && her heart not regulating body temperature as well, she’s always cold, so don’t be surprised when even in summer she’s carrying around a sweater just in case. lillian has big autumn aesthetic, primarily wearing colors like oranges, reds, browns, && dark blues && greens. she likes fuzzy sweaters, turtlenecks, skinny jeans, boots, && soft berets - it’s almost hard to remember that she primarily (meaning her main canon) lives in a place where there’s almost no seasons. due to her upbringing, lillian dresses pretty conservatively, even when she’s wearing skirts or dresses, they are typically to the knee or longer, && she doesn’t wear too many things that are low cut on top (also because she’s self conscious about her chest scar). to bed, she generally wears a two piece set that’s long sleeve, long pants, && in winter they’re fuzzy. she will wear socks to bed too but they usually end up kicked off. when it comes to jewelry, she has no piercings, but she is fond of necklaces, especially crystals, or the simple kind with a single pendant. lillian doesn’t like bracelets because they get in the way when she writes && it feels weird to wear it on her other wrist. lillian keeps her makeup relatively simple && natural - though she admires those who can do more complicated things with it - she just doesn’t know how nor does she think it would look good on her. her favorite kind of makeup is lipstick && she likes the kind that is more matte, though sparkles are sometimes fun. lillian prefers to wear her hair down, it comes just past her shoulders, though when she’s in study mode or needs to keep it out of the way, she wears it in a high ponytail. she doesn’t spend too much time doing her hair - thankfully, hers is pretty manageable without much issue - but she does keep it clean && loves using wonderful smelling shampoos && conditioners. her clothes are a weird mix of designer, department store, walmart, && hand-made. her parents can really only afford walmart with the occasional department store item (typically something that she’s going to have for years), however lillian’s aunt && uncle are wealthy enough that they were the ones putting her through private school && helping pay her medical bills, so occasionally she might get a designer item or two (most of the time it’s a hand me down from a cousin). if she was honest, lillian doesn’t really care either way - it doesn’t matter to her where the item came from, so long as it looks like something she’d wear/use && that’s generally the case. as for the hand-made items - lillian can knit! she loves knitting people cute things, from clothing to little stuffed animals && some of her things she made herself - she loves them the most.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

absolutely not! lillian can not have such things! as per her cardiologist’s orders - things like coffee && energy drinks could really make her sick, if not cause major problems with her heart. now - during the autumn she might get an iced pumpkin spice latte from starbucks in their smallest size && keep it in the refrigerator && drink it over a period of several days because she likes the taste but can’t have the caffeine, but otherwise she doesn’t touch the stuff for her own health. she will drink decaffeinated teas, though, like the relaxation kind. she doesn’t eat a ton of sugary food either, due to dietary restrictions, but she does enjoy things like pies, doughnuts, && sour candy - she just has to eat it in strict portions. can lillian stay awake && alert naturally? to a degree - she’s gotten better at it because of school && studying requires her to learn how to keep awake for long periods of time, but she doesn’t really have much of a choice in it because she’s only allowed to keep awake through natural methods.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

question answered over here!

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

currently, in her main canon, she’s going to school for pediatric cardiology, as she wants to work with children who have the same sort of conditions she does. she really wants to help improve the research on congenital conditions && help the next generation of kids who are diagnosed with heart defects live longer && happier lives. she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to do it - she’s smart, but being a doctor is exhausting work && she’s got prejudice against her disability riding against her, but she’s trying her best. some of the things she considers dumb because they are more hobby goals, not life goals, is she wants to improve on her roller skating && be able to do more tricks && she’d like to learn how to do more complicated knitting patterns, perhaps even open a little online business so that she can earn enough money to move out of her parent’s house. she’s not sure what she’d sacrifice anything for, but probably something to do with her work in medicine, helping people. she wants to make a real difference in the medical community. her secret ambition that she doesn’t think will happen is to invent a new medical procedure or medicine that ends up saving a ton of lives. as a bonus, here are some fandom universe secret goals she has.

all for the game: she wishes to help start an exy league for people who wish to play but are disabled && get them to be able to play in the special olympics && win medals.

harry potter: make hogwarts (or any other of the wizarding schools) && the wizarding world in general more accessible && friendly for disabled witches && wizards.

percy jackson: this is more personal, but lillian wonders if the other demigods at camp jupiter don’t think her worthy because she can’t physically keep up with a lot of them, so she wishes to be able to go on her first mission && do well so they will like her.

the shadowhunter chronicles: she wishes to learn more about her powers (she’s a warlock) && be able to help people. she wants to be known for it like magnus bane.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

sort of? lillian was raised catholic, went to church, went to a catholic private school for all her years until she graduated from high school. she considers herself kind of non-practicing right now, since she doesn’t go to church && she’s a bit more critical of organized religion now that she has experienced what it was like to grow up under it && is able to branch out more. she might still pray from time to time, avoid saying ‘oh my god’, && other things that she’s been conditioned with since she was a child, but she wouldn’t consider herself as devout as her family - not that she’d say it to them. she likes the concept of religion - of all religions - the idea that people have something to comfort them && she sees nothing wrong with religious people, but she doesn’t like how pushy some can be && those who disrespect other’s beliefs. she graduated with people who are still very devout like her cousins, && those who hated catholic upbringing so much they went full atheist, && she respects them both so long as they aren’t rude. in more fandom specific verses: in the percy jackson verse, she’s raised catholic at home - mainly her mother’s doing - && she’s uncomfortable because she worries she’s disrespecting carna && the other gods && goddesses. but, she does what she has to in order to avoid fights with her mother. in her shadowhunter && harry potter verse, she deals with the fact that she’s got magic && that’s considered demonic by her parents && it creates a lot of tension when she’s home to the point in her shadowhunter verse, she’s kicked out on the street the day she turns eighteen.

[rcnxed]

ok   we’re   not   gonna   talk   abt   the   fact   that   this   intro   is   coming   years   after   it   was   promised   AFSGDGFH   i   literally   stopped   doing   outfits   jus   to   finish   this   bc   i   NEED   one   chara   w   a   pretty   dress     !      if   u   wanna   plot   w   her   pls   hmu   here   or   if   u   prefer   my   discord   is   @* 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐝𝒉𝒐𝒆 .#1696      !

&&.      (      𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞́𝐞   𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞   𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱      )      is      (      𝟐𝟕      )      years   old   and   works   as   a      (      𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭      )   .   she   is   often   confused   with      (      𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲   𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨      )   .   some   say   that   she   is      (      𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬      &      𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜      )   ,   but   she   is   actually      (      𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐞      &      𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐱      )   .

triggers   :   death   .

*      𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔      .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥   𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞   :      renée      (      reborn      )      antoinette      (      beyond   praise      )      devereaux      (      riverbank      )   .

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬)   :     rennie   ,   ren   ,   nae   -   nae   .

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭   𝐚𝐠𝐞   :      twenty   -   seven   .

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲   :      january   23rd   .

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫   :      female   .

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬   :      she   /   her   .

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜𝐬   :      aquarius      (      sun      )      ,   pisces      (      moon      )      ,   aquarius      (      rising      )   .

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲   :      raoul      (      father   ,   58      )      ,   celeste      (      birth   mother   ,   58      )      ,   eleanore      (      step   -   mother   ,   56      )      ,   chréstien      (      brother   ,   37      )      ,   léa      (      sister   ,   25      )      ,   belle      (      daughter   ,   idk   yet      )   .

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬   :      a   piglet   named   dorota   .

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦   :      emily   didonato      (   x   )   .

𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲   :      caucasian   .

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲   :      french   .

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭   :      5’10   .

𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭   :      63kg   .

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫   :      brown      &      wavy   .

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬   :     blue   .

*      𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔      .

           excellent   eyeliner   ,   fairy   lights   ,   midnight   conversations   ,   the   world   is   riddled   with   symbols   ,   chiffon   robes   ,   the   sun   rising   ,   intricate   designs   ,   seeing   beauty   in   all   things   ,   the   constellations   of   a   cloudless   night   ,   pale   skin   ,   dark   shades   of   lipstick   ,   dancing   around   in   silk   dresses   ,   strange   conversations   ,   nutmeg      &      fuzzy   blankets   ,   the   eerie   vastness   of   suburbia   after   midnight   ,   believing   in   the   power   of   transformation   ,   iced   almond   milk   lattes   ,   marble   temples   ,   electric   blue   ,   stargazing   ,   sharing   stories   under   an   evening   sky   ,   the   crackle   of   the   fire      &      the   woosh   of   the   ocean   ,   freshly   painted   nails   .

*      𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕      .

           𝐢   :      𝒊   𝒂𝒎   𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓      ⤿      she   glided   through   her   childhood   as   effortless   as   a   falcon   .   fortunate   enough   to   be   the   daughter   of   a   duke   ,   renée   had   a   life   that   provided   her   with   everything   that   she   could   ever   ask   for      &      in   turn   ,   she   never   asked   for   much   .   blessed   enough   to   have   a   father   who   was   loving      &      brave   ,   she   had   the   misfortune   of   bearing   the   features   of   a   mother   who   abandoned   her   family   for   her   secret   lover   short   weeks   after   her   little   sister   was   born   .   she   doesn’t   remember   much   of   the   woman   who   used   to   call   herself   her   parent   ,   but   from   what   she   does   remember   ,   she’s   glad   she   forgot   .

           𝐢𝐢   :      𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕   𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉      ⤿      she   was   raised   to   be   as   polite      &      respectful   ,   as   she   would   expect   to   be   treated   .   by   the   time   her   father   had   remarried   to   a   woman   who   had   taken   renée      &      her   two   siblings   in   as   if   they   were   her   own   ,   she   had   learned   to   accept   people   as   they   appeared   ,      &      this   woman   exuded   motherly   love   .   growing   up   her   mind   was   curious      &      creative      ;      her   thoughts   on   the   stars      &      her   imagination   thinking   up   fictional   realities   that   ,   as   she   grew   older   were   a   result   of   her   real   mother   abandoning   her   at   the   mere   age   of   two   .   but   throughout   all   of   that   ,   she   never   lost   her   spirit      ;      or   her   belief   in   them   .

           𝐢𝐢𝐢   :      𝒕𝒐   𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓   𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆      ⤿      not   being   tethered   to   the   promise   of   a   duchy   ,   she   pursued   her   own   path      &      began   a   life   that   was   her   own   .   she   dabbled   in   the   arts   ,   taking   up   dancing   but   soon   becoming   bored      &      moving   on   to   the   next   thing   .   she   attempted   modelling   ,   her   love   for   fashion   taking   over   her   love   for   rhythm      &      although   it   was   better   fitting   ,   she   found   herself   not   suiting   the   life   that   came   with   it   .   she   searched   the   stars   for   answer   ,   but   no   amount   of   constellations   nor   the   education   she   endured   during   her   young   adult   life   prepared   her   for   what   she   wanted   to   do   .   as   it   happened   ,   she   did   not   know   .

           𝐢𝐯   :      𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉   𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉      ⤿      floating   between   the   life   she   wanted   to   create   for   herself      &      the   life   that   she   had   left   behind   in   france   is   when   she   met   alphonse   du   poitiers   .   her   father’s   trust   issues      &      her   mother’s   wariness   of   human   affection   in   general   made   it   feel   like   having   the   sort   of   relationship   that   would   later   result   in   a   marriage   was   impossible   for   her   ,   but   it   happened   .   she   found   herself   comfortable   in   his   world      &      forgot   about   where   she   wanted   to   fit   for   a   while   ,   but   she   didn’t   exactly   mind   .   if   anything   ,   she   was   happy   with   her   new   life      &      her   new   husband   .

           𝐯   :      𝒕𝒐   𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏   𝒊𝒕   𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚      ⤿      but   all   things   must   come   to   an   end      &      for   her   ,   things   came   to   an   end   much   too   soon   .   alphonse’s   tragic   death   created   more   grief      &      imbalance   in   her   life   that   ,   at   eight   months   pregnant   ,   she   went   into   labour   four   weeks   earlier   than   expected   .   the   distress   the   baby   was   under   due   to   renée’s   upset   meant   there   were   complications   ,      &      after   an   emergency   cesarean      &      an   awful   lot   of   time   spent   in   recover   ,   she   was   finally   allowed   home   with   her   beautiful   baby   girl   ,   but   life   would   never   be   the   same   for   her   .

*      𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕      .

            *      𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅   𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍   𝒐𝒇   𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔      &      𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔      ⤿      after   the   worst   part   of   her   grief   was   over   ,   renée   knew   that   she   had   to   move   on   ,   not   only   for   herself   but   for   her   daughter   .   after   some   careful   consideration   ,   she   changed   her   married   name   back   to   her   maiden   name      &      is   now   in   thailand   as   she   knows   it   will   be   the   safest   place   for   her   daughter   .   add   that   to   the   fact   that   she   found   herself   a   position   as   a   royal’s      (      𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍      !      )      stylist   ,   she’s   quite   settled   .   she   still   misses   alphonse      &      is   adjusting   to   her   life   as   a   widow   ,   but   she’s   getting   there      &      is   taking   each   day   at   a   time   .

*      𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚      .

           𝐢   :      𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏      ⤿      with   a   strive   to   succeed   ,   renée   has   the   sort   of   mindset   that   gives   her   a   stubborn   determination   to   achieve   whatever   she   wants   in   life   .   when   she   wants   to   do   or   be   something   ,   she   has   a   strong   desire   to   acquire   whatever   that   is   in   whichever   way   possible   .   she’s   not   afraid   to   step   on   other’s   toes   to   get   ahead   in   life   ,   but   she   has   a   steadfast   moral   code   which   means   that   she   will   do   so   only   at   times   where   it   is   absolutely   necessary   .

            𝐢𝐢   :      𝒅𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏      ⤿      promises   are   things   that   shouldn’t   be   taken   for   granted   ,      &      renée   is   a   keeper   of   them   .   no   matter   what   ,   she   will   do   whatever   she   can   to   live   up   to   her   cause      &      dedicates   herself   wholeheartedly   to   whatever   promises   she’s   made   or   commitments   she’s   tied   to   .   she’s   a   huge   believer   that   carrying   something   through   is   important   ,      &      is   very   reliant   on   people   doing   the   same   for   her   .   not   only   that   ,   but   she’s   extremely   dedicated   to   her   family      &      that’s   something   she   boats   proudly   .

           𝐢𝐢𝐢   :      𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏      ⤿      she   sees   things   in   a   different   way   to   others   ,   so   her   imagination   takes   her   to   places   where   other’s   normally   wouldn’t   go   .   she   loves   being   creative   with   whatever   task   she’s   set      &      isn’t   afraid   to   push   the   boat   out      &      do   the   unexpected   ,   which   is   one   trait   she’s   carried   with   her   since   she’s   was   very   young   .   renée   is   a   very   active   thinker   who   doesn’t   think   that   believing   is   seeing   ,   which   often   creates   a   naive   outlook   she’s   yet   to   overcome   .

            𝐢𝐯   :      𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚      ⤿      renée   is   the   sort   of   person   who   will   act   on   her   emotions      &      allows   them   to   guide   her   .   she   is   incredibly   open   about   what   she   believes   in      &      won’t   hide   her   thoughts   or   adjust   her   feelings   to   be   appropriate   for   someone   else   .   she’s   very   individualistic   ,      &      believes   that   being   open      &      honest   about   your   beliefs      &      desires   is   what   will   get   you   far   .   it’s   worked   well   enough   for   her   so   far   in   life   ,   so   she   hasn’t   changed   this   view   even   if   some   won’t   agree   it’s   the   best   approach   .

           𝐯   :      𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆      ⤿      despite   her   desire   to   be   the   best   she   can   be   ,   renée   can   often   be   quite   hesitant   when   making   decisions   ,   especially   when   it   comes   to   her   career   .   although   her   mind   is   constantly   buzzing   with   ideas   ,   she   quite   often   doubts   herself   so   she   needs   a   bit   of   time   to   prepare   for   an   event   in   order   to   choose   a   look   she’s   happy   with   .   she’s   absolutely   her   worst   critic      &       never   makes   a   final   decision   until   the   product   is   well   received   enough   that   she   knows   she   can   settle   for   it   .

           𝐯𝐢   :      𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚      ⤿      she   doesn’t   let   it   show   that   much   ,   but   beneath   her   overly   confident   air   ,   renée   has   some   deep   rooted   insecurity      &      trust   issues   that   stem   from   wondering   why   her   mother   abandoned   her   family   at   such   a   young   age   .   it   makes   her   a   little   distrustful   ,   not   very   easily   letting   people   in      &      getting   so   close   as   for   them   to   know   everything   about   her   .   she   often   feels   like   whatever   she   does   won’t   be   enough   ,   but   she’s   fighting   her   hardest   to   overcome   this   due   to   the   way   it   makes   her   feel   .

            𝐯𝐢𝐢   :      𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚      ⤿      an   adult      ?      yes   .   realistic      ?      absolutely   not   .   renée   lives   under   idealisms   more   than   she   does   realities       &      quite   often   ends   up   feeling   disappointed   when   things   aren’t   quite   as   she   expected   .   although   she   knows   sometimes   her   ideas   can   be   a   little   too   fanciful   to   even   be   a   possibility   in   real   life   ,   it’s   an   escapism   that   allows   her   to   be   more   creative   .   that   doesn’t   mean   it   doesn’t   come   back   to   haunt   her   ,   though   .   she’s   bad   a   detecting   liars   even   if   her   instincts   tell   her   not   to   trust   them   .

           𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢   :      𝒗𝒖𝒍𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚      ⤿      renée   feels   emotions   intensely   ,   especially   negative   ones   .   she   is   quite   easily   upset      &      although   she   is   a   huge   feminist   ,   confrontation   isn’t   her   favourite   activity      &      unless   she   has   a   solid   case   ,   she   probably   won’t   pursue   .   she   tends   to   take   a   lot   if   things   personally      &      struggles   with   separating   constructive   criticism       &      people   just   being   cruel   .   she   tries   not   to   let   these   sort   of   emotions   show   ,   but   she’s   generally   very   driven   by   her   emotions      &      it   affects   her   negatively   in   this   way   .

*      𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔      .

honestly   this   past   is   here   bc   i   tried   my   hand   at   being   fancy   in   her   intro   but   had   too   many   headcanons   lmao

but   basically   u   probably   guessed   it   ,   she’s   french   ,   but   does   she   support   the   french   government      ?      DON’T   ask   her

honestly   she’s   surprised   wwiii   hasn’t   started   yet   but   ANYWAY

i needed   to   channel   my   inner   supernatural   geek   somewhere       &      that’s   where   my   girl   comes   in      !

probably   has   a   crush   on   stefan   salvatore   but   don’t   talk   abt   it   to   her   bc   she   will   get   mad   @   the   tvd   ending   like   BITCH   ur   an   ADULT   ur   a   MOTHER   chill   out

but   also   zak   bagans   hit   her   up   whenever   u   get   the   chance

she   has   a   piglet   as   a   pet   bc   she   loves   unconventional   things      &      a   dog   or   a   kitten   is   too   mainstream   for   her

her   personal   style   differs   from   full   on   girly   -    girl   to   chilling   in   slacks   ,   there’s   no   inbetween

rly   is   just   try   to   adjust   to   life   as   a   mother   ,   as   a   widow      &      just   life   in   general   ok   she’s   not   perfect   but   she’s   TRYING

eleanore   is   her   mother   ,   not   celeste   ,   prove   her   otherwise

is   rly   just   here   for   the   all   expenses   paid   for   holiday      &      can   be   found   chilling   by   a   pool   when   she   doesn’t   have   to   work

[nutbrain]

The Usual

The next part in the kindness war with @kiruuuuu Little bit of Coffee Shop AU Bandit/Monty :)

Special thanks to @blitznbandit for all the help!!!

The door chimed as Dominic was wiping the counter, glaring at the dried syrup that was proving impossible to remove. Eyes flicking up towards the sound, he spotted blond hair and chiseled face plastered with a crooked grin that Dominic would love to smack off. Gritting his teeth as his frown deepened, Dom made his way to the register, elbowing Chelsea out of the way as she attempted to start flirting with the police officer who’d just walked in.

“Donuts again today, Officer Kotz?” Dominic asked, painfully fake grin and falsely cheerful voice painful to his own ears. Across from him, Elias Kotz tried to maintain a straight face as he took in the new aprons they’d been given; their hearts and upbeat sayings clashed heavily with Dom’s usual aesthetic. His coworkers had poked fun, but he’d refused to buy two given how horrendous this one was.

“Ahh, no. I’d better pass. Can I get a large latte, extra shot?” Dom reached for the hot cup and started writing the order across the outside. “Wait, can I get that iced instead?” Dominic’s face dropped into a flat affect as he stared and blinked. Elias at least had the decency to look sheepish as Dom reached for another cup to write the new order on, maintaining eye contact as much as possible.

“Will that be all?” Dominic asked, voice deadpan as Chelsea attempted to kill him with her gaze alone. Elias nodded quickly and moved as far away from Dom as he could, and Chelsea began apologizing on Dom’s behalf as soon as Elias moved to near the waiting area. Dominic rolled his eyes. Currently, his only job was not to get himself fired, which was shaping up to be harder than he thought. Unfortunately, there was no way Elias was about to complain. Though if he did, Dom would openly invite the opportunity not to be forced to be here anymore.

Dominic entertained himself with wiping the dust off the register while only half listening to Chelsea’s attempts at flirting and wondered if he should just fake his death and change states. His skills were transferable and it’d be less of a headache than dealing with his current coworkers. Likely sensing she wasn’t wanted, Janet materialized from the back, hoping to swoop in on Elias should Chelsea fail. Dominic smirked as the other man attempted to extricate himself from the conversation, far too nice to simply excuse himself, and he glanced over at Dom for help.

Served him right. When Dom was offered the opportunity for an undercover job, he never expected this. Take down one of the biggest drug smuggling rings in the city, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Dominic had jumped at the opportunity to get out from behind a desk. When he became a detective, he expected it to be much more exciting than sitting around and filing reports with his partner, one Elias “Blitz” Kotz, who was still stuck flirting with the baristas next to him. He enjoyed working with the man immensely, but his current situation was the highlight of his day so far, watching him act so awkwardly as the two women fawned over him. It looked like they’d now made him an extra drink for the squad car to “make up for their coworker’s sour attitude.” Dominic barely resisted the urge to flip them all off.

The door chimed, distracting Dominic from his half-hearted cleaning job to look up. Pushing through the door was a mountain of a man, dressed fashionably in dark slacks, button down shirt, and long dress coat, messenger back slung across his shoulders. His eyes scanned the coffee shop, quickly meeting Dominic’s and smiling brightly, which complementing his already handsome features. If Dom had any less self-control, he’d be a small puddle on the floor. Turns out he had a new highlight to his day. “Good morning Gilles! The usual?” Dominic asked cheerfully, smile reaching his eyes for once. That caught Elias’ attention, as he glanced over with a knowing grin. Dominic ignored him.

“If you would. I like your new apron. It looks nice on you.” Dominic laughed, holding his tongue while he rung up the black coffee with his employee discount. Gilles Toures had been coming into the shop since before Dominic had started, but they’d quickly hit it off. Dominic had been here a month, and most of what he’d learned was information about the man across from him (which Elias kept reminding his was decidedly not his job, but Dominic couldn’t care less). Dominic was intrigued with the other man, who was the sort of man to work from home at a coffee shop, claiming the soft lighting, muted browns, and soft sounds made it easier to focus. Some checking into his background (which was rendered entirely unnecessary as Gilles happily told him when he finally asked) revealed that he was a book editor at one of the more prestigious companies in the city. Gilles of course downplayed his accomplishments, incredibly humble in everything he does.

Gilles hovered around the cash register as Dominic poured his coffee. He smiled warmly and nodded to Elias before making his way to his usual seat up against the windows. Dom could feel eyes on him and looked over to find Elias still smirking at him, ignoring the conversation that was happening in front of him.

“Officer Kotz, was there something else I can help you with? Or are my tax dollars paying for you to stand there?” Two sets of eyes turned to glare at him. Elias did his best not to look relieved as he grabbed his coffees and made a quick retreat.

“Really Derrick? Just because you’ve been at odds with the law doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Dom rolled his eyes. It’d been Monika’s idea to use prior convictions (illegal possession and selling of marijuana) as a cover story for why he was here. The leads they’d gotten pointed to the coffee shop hiring minor offenders as baristas only to have them wind up as street dealers of much more hardcore drugs months later. So far, aside from being a front for several backroom activities, no one had approached him about doing anything darker than cleaning the men’s restroom (and to be honest, Dominic would rather take the drug peddling).

At least when the people involved in shadier deals would order coffee, they always left a nice tip. Unlike Elias.

Dominic was still scrubbing the syrup off the counter hours after the sun had long gone down and Gilles finally got up to leave, staying almost until closing. Two large men pushed through the door, one in a fuzzy hooded coat and striped pants while the other wore only a striped blue and white t-shirt with jeans. Chelsea peaked out from where she was closing in the back and quickly retreated.

‘Great. The Russians.’ Timur and Maxim according to the files he’d pulled on them, though they went by different names professionally. They glanced at GIlles as they pushed past, but paid him little mind. Seeing the concerned look on Gilles’ face, Dom waved him off, wishing him a good night before turning to his new visitors.

“How can I help you?” Ice blue eyes appraised him, before settling on his apron and chuckling. Timur said something to Maxim in their mother tongue before they both laughed. Dominic maintained his smile, though the urge to strangle them both with the garment increased. Not that he’d make it that far, he may fight dirty, but Timur alone was twice his weight.

“We’ll take large coffees and whatever scones you still have.” Timur said as Maxim started to examine the décor before chiming in with, “You look like child in apron.” Dom gritted his teeth and gave him a strained smile as Maxim smirked.

Dominic rung them up, careful not to completely turn his back on them while he poured their coffees. While he was busy, they each dropped something into the tip jar, sound echoing in the otherwise quiet shop. Dom clenched his jaw, knowing those coins meant they’d each completed whatever job they’d been assigned. Somewhere in the city some poor beat cop would be filing reports on the dead bodies these two were piling up. But they were neat assassins and it was unlikely the murders would ever be connected to either of them.

Dominic gave them a tight smile as he passed off their order, breathing a sigh of relief only after he’d locked the door behind the two. He worried one of these days his name, his real name, would be added to their list. Chelsea peaked around the corner.

“I’m glad you were upfront and not me. Those two give me the creeps.” She said with a shiver. At least she had good instincts.

Gilles looked relieved to see him the next day, which was always nice.

“I’m not going to lie, I half expected to see you with an empty cash register and a black eye.” He laughed. The manager, Tom (definitely mob, usually here when they needed to clear out early for a meeting), gave him side eye. The piqued interest made Dom ansty, so he did his best to play it off.

“Nah, they were just here for coffees. They left a tip, so that’ll be nice to see on the paycheck.” He laughed, relieved as Tom turned his attention back to the clipboard he’d been staring at for the past hour. Dominic rung up one coffee, mildly disappointed that he’d be unable to give Gilles a discount with upper management lurking.

“I’m glad they tipped coming in that late. Oh, and can I get a small latte as well? Nonfat milk with that.” Dominic was taken aback and tried not to show it, changing the total. He passed the latte off with a slightly strained smile after it was done. If Gilles noticed he thankfully didn’t comment on it.

Not ten minutes later, a petite woman stepped in, dressed in a form fitting dress and a loose bun. She radiated confidence as she entered the building and Janet greeted her. She gave Janet a polite smile and scanned to room, finding Gilles who stood up to pull out her chair. Dominic stared at the two as they talked with easy familiarity. He knew he shouldn’t be, but he could feel jealousy growing in the pit of his stomach as he watched the two talk. He probably would have watched the two for their entire visit, but Janet asked that he get the bathrooms cleaned instead of staring like a creep.

Dominic hated working with Janet.

The next day when Gilles stepped in, he smiled at Dominic the same way as always. Dom had tried not to dwell on the fact that the man who made his heart rate pick up was probably dating a woman who was top of whatever industry required you be that poised. What could a detective turned barista do to compete with that? They exchanged the usual pleasantries, but Dominic couldn’t resist bringing it up.

“Did you have a nice date yesterday?” He received a confused expression in response before realization grew and the editor laughed.

“You mean Manu? That’s my publisher. We had to discuss work and she wanted to see why I spent so much time here.” Relief hit Dominic like a truck and he probably covered it up poorly; his poker game was always rubbish when he had a crush.

“Did she enjoy it here?” Gilles nodded, letting him know he’d done a good job on the latte. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom emerged from the back hallway, staring at them both before walking over.

“Derrick, why don’t you go clean some tables? I haven’t spoken with our favorite customer here in a while.” Dominic swallowed thickly, nodding and doing as he was told. Had he somehow slipped and now Tom was trying to figure out how much Gilles knew about him? Dominic ran through his past interactions, nothing notable recently outside of the Russians’ presence. He took his time busing, waiting to take a stack of plates back until they’d finished their conversation and Tom had given him a nod before he retreated into the back again.

Dominic waited a bit before feigning cleaning a new set of tables to wander over to Gilles. He figured that’d be normal employee behavior if Tom asked later.

“What all did Tom have to say?” Dom asked as he finished a few tables. Gilles blinked at his work a few times before glancing up; usually Dominic tried not to bother him if he was working.

“Oh, nothing much. Gave me a free drink card for coming here so frequently. Asked about what I was referring to with the empty cash register. Don’t worry, I explained I was just nervous about people coming in that late. You never know in New York what people are up to.” Dominic nodded at this; it was a nicer neighborhood, but not without its issues. There weren’t any other customers, so Dom kept up their easy conversation forgetting entirely that Gilles was here to work.

Gilles didn’t seem to mind.

The next time Gilles walked in and ordered an extra drink, Dominic was horrified at the order. Gilles had pulled up his phone and squinted at it, looking sheepish and apologizing before getting started. The monstrosity that slowly took shape on the side of the cup was one Dominic had hoped to never see. When he finished Dominic was left staring at the cup, contemplating the meaning of life and what kind of person enjoys this type of drink. It took him longer to finish than he would have liked given that he had to recheck the order and puzzle out what five shots half caff meant. Gilles was at a loss as well and opened his wallet to drop a ten in the jar.

“Alright Gilles, one large, five shot half caff, blended mocha with nonfat milk, extra mocha sauce, two pumps strawberry syrup, ten pumps of regular syrup and extra whip on the top of the straw.” Dominic hoped he hadn’t missed anything as he placed the drink on the counter.

“You’re a saint Dominic. Thanks, I know it was a lot of effort.” Dominic waved it off, now incredibly curious as to who was visiting Gilles, as the man took the drink to his usual spot. His answer came after about 30 minutes later (Gilles had ended up making an exasperated phone call) when a young man in tight dark pants and a red and black flannel shirt came bouncing in from the rain. He adjusted his black slouchy beanie and wiped his uggs on the carpet at he searched the establishment. Eyes finally settling on the large man by the window, Rook gave Dominic a cheerful look as he made a beeline for Gilles.

“I got lost in work! Ooh, coffee. It looks good, but it looks like the whipped cream on the straw has melted.” Gilles nodded, pointing out that the young man was late. Dominic watched as the newcomer pouted, Gilles finally getting up to take the drink bank to the counter.

“Difficult client?” Dominic asked as he put a dollop of cream on the straw.

“Diva author, Julien Nizan. Brilliant, my favorite to work with, but still a whirlwind disaster sometimes. I owe you dinner sometime for putting up with this” He laughed, thanking Dom for the help as Dom tried not to blush brightly at the joke. He watched as the Gilles set down the drink as the young man gestured wildly, energy only increasing as he consumed his nightmare fuel.

Julien reordered his drink twice while he was there.

Dominic had now won Employee of the Month three months in a row. Dominic suspected it was largely from Gilles filling out comment cards after nearly every visit, but he wasn’t about to complain if it meant upsetting Janet. The activity he’d noticed from the gang had been minimal, occasional early closing for meetings sprinkled throughout. The only reason he was still here was the increasing frequency of appearances from the Russians. Timur and Maxim were the usual late-night appearances, their visits correlating with a body found with a clean head shot or a slit throat within the next day or so. Always members of rival gangs, always clean of evidence.

Dropping off coins wasn’t enough to bring anyone in for questioning, but Dom hoped that they’d slip up with how frequently they’d been performing hits. Elias had to stop visiting as much, Monika worried that he might draw attention to Dominic. The last thing he need was to come home to a Russian assassin sitting on his couch. He highly doubted he’d be there for coffee.

Bandit was spacing out and startled violently when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Gilles looked sheepish. How someone so big could move so quietly, Bandit would never know.

“Okay this is an odd question so bear with me.” Bandit looked at him with trepidation. What constitutes as a weird question for Gilles? “Do you think centaurs crawl like insects?” Bandit blinked at him.

“Do what?” He had to have misheard. There’s no way-

“Crawl like insects? Julien seems to think that because they have six appendages, they’d…crawl. Like insects do. You know what, now that I say it out loud, I think I have my answer.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and started to walk away.

“Are they insect sized centaurs or are they like…horse sized?” Gilles squinted at the manuscript on the tablet he was holding.

“Uhhh, pigmy horse sized. But they wear cute boots apparently?” Bandit tried to imagine a miniature centaur crawling across the ground like some sort of giant cockroach dressed in uggs and shivered.

“Was - no offence to him - but was he a bit high when he came up with this?” Not that Dominic was about to report him, but was honestly curious about how this made an appearance. Gilles laughed.

“No, he better not be. My boss will have both our heads. She runs a tight ship. He tends to get a bit wild with his ideas when he’s running on a few hours of sleep.” Gilles thanked him and went back to his table. Tom was hanging out around the register again, now looking very interested in Gilles. Dominic shivered, hoping that if he had any issues, the blowback didn’t affect Gilles.

Three and a half months in and Dominic finally got something out of this job. He’d been over clearing Gilles’ plate when he heard some of the backroom regulars discussing plans to move merchandise. Dominic hung back and struck up a conversation with the editor, asking him what he was working on now and paying him no mind as he listened to the two thugs converse. To any of the patrons, their merchandise was just that, so they felt free to talk about the details. The shipment was small and would have just a few people there, making it perfect for a bust. Plus, it was doubtful any of this could be traced back to Derrick the barista. He was simply entertaining a customer while it was discussed.

Dominic found out very shortly that it wasn’t Derrick he should have been worried about.

The bust went smoothly, five men being taken down and the small shipment confiscated. Dom had been worried that it was some sort of setup, but everything had gone surprisingly well. Elias stopped in to congratulate him on “employee of the month” and order his extra shot latte (this time hot after Dominic had grabbed a cup for iced coffee). Dominic carefully kept further interaction to a minimum as Tom had materialized from the back, casting suspicious glances at the police officer. It wasn’t hard since Chelsea was on and happily talked his ear off as usual. They were still talking when Gilles came in, face red from the cold and looking excited.

“Good morning Derrick! I have excellent news. Julien’s latest book’s is being printed and the reviews are looking excellent.” Gilles smile was bright and Dominic could help but grin with him.

“That’s great! I’m happy to hear it.” Dominic said, looking down as Gilles passed him a small card with business information.

“Wait, Julien Nizan, author of the Rook in the Tower series?” Elias gasped as Gilles looked mildly surprised. “That’s my favorite book series! I’ve reread them all eight times.”

Uh oh, Elias was gushing now and Gilles looked more than happy to entertain him. As the morning rush picked up, Gilles offered to move their conversation over to the tables and Elias happily followed. Dominic quickly pocketed the card as he got to work. The rush was real as he and Chelsea were swamped, Tom refusing to do much more than clear a few tables.

By the time Dominic finally got a break, Gilles and Elias had both left. Dom tugged out the card from his pocket, giving it a look and admiring the series’ namesake bird on a background of various elements. He was glad he flipped it over.

Call me, I owe you dinner :) - Gilles was written, followed by a neatly printed number, area code and all.

Dominic was a coward and still hadn’t called Gilles. He’d hoped to talk to him yesterday, but the man hadn’t shown up. He needed time to talk to Elias about it, worried that ‘Derrick’ would bring trouble knocking on Gilles door. With two assassins on the prowl across the city, he really didn’t want to risk it. But boy had he fallen hard now that dating was an option, and dinner with Gilles was something he’d been thinking about for a while (among other things).

When Gilles had come in today, it’d been far too busy to have a decent conversation, Dominic had seen him come in, but Janet had insisted on ringing up drinks rather than making them, leaving Dom to make eye contact will Gilles and roll his eyes as he hurried around. The big man relaxed at that, waving as he headed to his seat. It was cold and windy outside, leaving the shop bustling until closing and giving Dom no time to talk to Gilles, who waved before he stepped out into the night.

Dominic was nearly to the subway when he realized he’d forgotten his stupid cheerful apron at the shop. It needed washed after Janet created a powdered sugar explosion from the pastry display box (why did she think blowing the extra sugar would be a good way to clean it up?) and Dom had still refused to purchase an extra.

Sighing and cursing himself, he turned around and walked back towards the coffee shop. He had the key to the back door into the staff cubbies and there wasn’t a meeting that he knew about tonight, so he should be safe there. The snow made the walk miserable, flurries swirling around him as he trudged back, kicking himself for being so distracted as to forget it. He missed the car he and Elias used.

Thirty minutes later and Bandit was back at the cursed place, shuffling down the alley to the side door. He fumbled with his keys and managed to squeeze through the door, shutting it softly behind him. As he moved to turn towards the staff area, Dominic heard voices from the other end of corridor.

“Just tell us who you work for. Cops? FBI? DEA?” It sounded like one of the Russians. Bandit froze. If they caught him here, they were unlikely to let him live. The question is, what poor idiot did they have? Bandit put his phone on do not disturb and sent a quick message to Elias, praying it wasn’t him down the hall.

“I told you, I’m an editor. I have any idea what you’re talking about.” Oh. Oh no. That was Gilles’ voice. Bandit realized quickly why Tom was so interested in their conversations, why those two had been discussing plans next to Gilles. He’d thought that Gilles, constant customer and workaholic had been the snitch. He sends another message to Elias, letting him know who it is and where he’s at before moving forward to peek through the door.

He snuck forward as quietly as possible, peering around the frame and trying to stay out of sight. Within, Maxim is seated on a stool, toying lazily with a knife that he flips through his fingers. Gilles is tied to a chair, thankfully looking mostly unharmed, though his clothes were a bit disheveled. The man appeared more upset than anything else, hiding the panic that subtly seeped into his voice.

Dominic bit his lip, retreating slightly to check the messages from Elias, who said he’d called in back up and to wait. It was a sound plan, but there’s no way Maxim would wait long enough to confront them and Gilles would be a witness he’d be unwilling to accept. The only problem was that he had no idea where Timur was. It’s possible that it was just Maxim, but he didn’t trust it. Dominic snuck back to the staff room, grabbing one of the large thermos’ that Janet kept her soup in, before checking the hallway and walking back. Maxim was still occupied with Gilles, knife dancing in front of his face now as he questioned the poor editor. Focused as both of them were, neither heard Dominic walk up until he’d swung the thermos against Kapkan’s head, sending him sprawling seemingly unconscious. Dominic smacked him again for good measure, grabbing the knife and doing a quick pat down of the assassin, finding a PMM that he quickly pocketed.

“Derrick? What are you doing here?” Gilles looked so incredibly relieved that Dominic knew he’d chosen correctly as he set about cutting the duct tape that had been used to restrain the larger man.

“Forgot my stupid apron. We need to go. Was it just him or is the other one around?” Dominic asked as he pulled him to his feet, pulling out the pistol and chambering a bullet.

“There was the other guy as well. I don’t know where he went.” Dominic nodded, telling Gilles to stay close and keep quiet. Dom stepped out into the hall, clearing both sides and seeing no one. Motioning for Gilles to follow, he held the gun at the ready, checking the alley for hostiles as he stepped out. A slight sound from the hall sent his alarm bells off and he tugged Gilles out after him, unbalancing the man and sending him sprawling into the snow as bullets ricocheted off the metal frame where Gilles’ head had been. One glanced across Dominic’s upper arm as it pinged off the metal, easily cutting through the thin jacket he was wearing. Gilles pulled his feet out of the way so Dom could kick the door closed and looked up at him with wide eyes. Hauling Gilles to his feet as best he could, Dominic put himself between the editor and the door, pushing him forward as he kept an eye and his gun behind them. When it started to open, Dominic fired a round at it, likely causing Timur to recoil as the door halted its movement.

Sirens wailed down the street, squad cars rolling to a stop as the officers popped out and demanded they put their hands in the air. Gilles looked a bit frantic, following Dominic’s lead in complying immediately.

“Detective Dominic Brunsmeier, NYPD. There’s a gun in my front pants pocket. We’re being pursued by an armed assailant.” Gilles looked at him like he grew another head as the officer’s approached, finding the gun as promised and quickly cuffing the both of them while they called it in. Elias arrived shortly after, flashing his badge. After a bit of arguing, Dominic and Gilles were released and waited while the SWAT arrived to get organized enough to clear the building. They found a bit of blood on the concrete in the room where Gilles was held, but it appeared that both assassins had fled. An APB was put out for them both, but it was likely they’d be underground already with how long it took them to sweep the building.

Area cleared (after about eight years in Dominic’s opinion), the EMTs came in to check them out. Gilles was okay’d, Elias was able to ask what happened. Gilles apparently had gone with them relatively easily after they’d ambushed him outside the alley, hoping that they just wanted his wallet. He’d finished with Elias’ initial questions by the time that the EMTs were finishing patching Dom up. The laceration on Dominic’s arm was shallow, stopped mostly by his coat, so they disinfected it and cleared him. Monika was furious when she arrived, having heard he’d acted without backup.

“Protect and serve, Mon. It’s part of the job.” He said with a lopsided smile. She rolled her eyes, calling Marius (who unsurprisingly still wasn’t out of his apartment) to let him know their fellow detective had made it out okay.

“Ah, disappointing.” He’d joked, Monika’s volume up enough for Dom to hear. Dom shook his head, suddenly dreading the amount of paperwork this would be, especially with the Russian’s knowing who he was. He imagined it was even more stressful for Gilles though, and sought him out, finding him in the back of a squad car, wrapped in an orange shock blanket.

Dom tapped on the window before opening the door, asking Gilles how he was doing.

“I’m doing okay. I’m fine thanks to you, Detective.” Dominic snorted, playing with the edges of his now ruined jacket, wishing he’d taken the stupid blanket as the cold ate through the material.

“It was my fault they suspected you to begin with. I guess this means you don’t owe me dinner anymore.” Dominic looked everywhere but Gilles’ eyes. Gilles hummed in thought.

“I think that means I owe you two dinners, at least if you enjoy the first. I need to get to know my hero, Detective Brunsmeier.” Dom smiled in surprise, face going a bit red, which he hoped could be attributed to the biting cold.

“Dominic’s good. Or Dom, whichever you prefer.” He said, offering his hand. Gilles took it with a smile and a nod.

“It’s a date then.” He said, Dom’s heart skipping a few beats as he processed.

Gilles made good on both dinners.

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 8/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Brittany kind of thinks stuff like this might be a date, but she doesn’t want to assume anything because God, what if they’re not?; Tina and Mercedes like to burst into dressing rooms unannounced.

Chapter 8: the slight sparkle of tinsel, covered in mud

///

Brittany wakes up Saturday morning with a text from Santana asking her if she wants a sandwich from the same place yesterday for supper between shows today. She grins goofily as she unplugs her phone and snuggles back down into her pillow, tucking her arms under the comforter again and holding her phone perhaps a little too close to her face, as she quickly responds that she would love one.

The little bubbles indicating Santana’s typing appear and disappear for almost a full minute, but she ends up just sending a Cool, and Brittany can’t help the wide smile that spreads across her face or the giddy-happy flutter of butterflies in her stomach; Santana pretending to be tough or cool is actually just adorable.

She can hear the faint hint of Christmas music drifting through the apartment and Mercedes puttering around the kitchen, so she sends a Thanks! to Santana before sighing and rolling out of bed. She shivers as soon as the comforter falls from her body, leaving her bare arms and legs exposed to the cold air blowing in from her open window. The temperature must have really dropped last night, Brittany figures, if her ice cold nose is anything to go by, and she quickly crosses her room to shut her window. She finds her oldest, most comfortable hoodie and tugs it on, tucking her phone into her pocket, as she stumbles down the hall to the bathroom. She keeps texting Santana as she runs through her morning routine, deciding that she’ll shower later when it’s closer to the time they’ll have to leave for the theatre, finding it hard to brush her teeth around her smile but not caring in the least.

She emerges from the bathroom to the smell of coffee, and she follows her nose to find Mercedes singing along to the speakers on the counter as she washes up some dishes at the sink, a frying pan of eggs sizzling behind her and a coffee cup, the novelty Grumpy Cat one Mercedes got Brittany for their first Christmas in the apartment together, sits under a stream of coffee from the Keurig. Mercedes has always been a morning person, and so she’s always been in charge of breakfast, and the cooking in the apartment just in general, which works out well since Brittany doesn’t hate cleaning like Mercedes does.

“Morning,” Brittany yawns.

Mercedes glances up and offers Brittany a smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Brittany shrugs. “It’s not even that late,” she says easily, “And the matinee isn’t until two.”

Mercedes just rolls her eyes, drying her hands on the tea towel draped over her shoulder as the Keurig sputters to an end. Brittany slides onto her stool at the kitchen island and folds her arms to make a cradle for her head. Mercedes stirs in cream and sugar, the clink of the spoon against the side of the mug in beat with Mariah Carey’s voice crooning around the kitchen. 

Brittany’s phone chimes and she slips it out of her pocket and can’t help the soft smile she gets as she unlocks it, quickly answering Santana before setting it on the counter.

“I know that smile,” Mercedes teases as she sets the cup of coffee in front of Brittany; Brittany bites down on her smile as she sits up properly, but she’s pretty sure it doesn’t actually do anything to hide it.

“What smile?” she deadpans. 

Mercedes swats the tea towel at her, flicking the tip of it right on Brittany’s nose with impeccable aim. “Don’t play coy,” she smirks, “That’s your Santana smile.”

Brittany scoffs, batting away the tea towel as it makes another pass at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says haughtily.

“Girl, please,” Mercedes laughs, “You two couldn’t be more obvious if you wore flashing neon signs around the theatre.”

Brittany takes a sip of her coffee before tilting her head to the side. “That seems inconvenient, but there would probably be fewer face plants and collisions backstage,” she contemplates.

“Oh for sure,” Mercedes agrees, “But don’t think you’re getting away with this.”

“Getting away with what?” Brittany asks, far too innocently.

Mercedes snorts. “You know I’m going to just keep bugging you until you break, you might as well give up now and save us both the trouble.” 

Brittany sucks in a soft breath and meets Mercedes gaze for just a moment before her eyes drop away. “She’s bringing me supper today,” Brittany admits shyly, and though she ducks her head to hide her too soft smile, Mercedes easily recognizes it and reaches across the kitchen counter to clasp Brittany’s hands in hers around the coffee mug.

“Again?” Mercedes gasps excitedly. Brittany nods, bashful and glowing. “Really?” Mercedes coos, “Like a date?”

Brittany shrugs and bites down on her lip. “I dunno. We didn’t really talk about it, but— I’d like it to be.”

“You two are so smitten with each other,” Mercedes sighs.

“Smitten? Really? What are you, ninety?”

“Oh,” Mercedes retorts, “would you prefer infatuated? Maybe besotted? Enamoured, perhaps? Head over heels? Taken with? Enchanted? Bowled over? Bewitched? Twitterpated?”

“Okay,” Brittany laughs, “That last one you just made up, Ms. Walking-Thesaurus.”

Mercedes just rolls her eyes. “Look it up. It’s a real word.”

Brittany’s doubtful, but just as she’s about to google it her phone chimes. Mercedes glances up in time to catch Brittany’s blushing smile, her blue eyes lit up with something Mercedes has never seen in them before, and she laughs a little at how obvious Brittany is even when she’s trying to deny it. “And you say you aren’t smitten,” she teases just as the toast pops, turning to pull plates out of the cupboard and butter the slices she eases out of the toaster. 

Brittany sticks her tongue out at Mercedes, but with her back turned it’s kind of pointless. She pouts at her phone as she unlocks it. Mercedes is making fun of me, she complains to Santana.

Santana’s response is immediate, Rude! Tell her I won’t bring her a coffee today.

“Santana’s threatening to revoke your coffee privileges if you don’t stop making fun of me,” Brittany relays.

Mercedes gasps, glancing over her shoulder with an overdramatic horrified expression. “No! Not the coffee privileges!”

Brittany tuts at her. “You better lay off me then,” she singsongs.

Mercedes bursts into laughter, and it only takes a beat before Brittany’s own laughter joins in. “I’ll be good,” she finally promises.

Brittany smirks and turns back to her phone. It worked! she texts, and then, She promised to be good.

Hmm, Santana responds instantly, and Brittany can almost see the amused sparkle in those beautiful brown eyes, I suppose that’s acceptable. But one more teasing remark and I’ll kick her ass! I can’t have anyone making fun of my Britts. Brittany bites down on her smile so it doesn’t overwhelm her, and she so wishes that Santana was here right now so she could see the furious blush she’s sure is blooming across Santana’s cheeks, giving her that adorable too bright, breathless look. 

My hero! Brittany answers quickly, only hesitating for a split second before she adds a couple heart emojis to it, feeling heat prickle under her own skin; Santana’s blush may be adorable, but Brittany doesn’t want her to actually burst into flames from it, and she figures Santana deserves a little bit of payoff for the chance she just took, even if said payoff does make Brittany blush furiously in return.

“So what’s the verdict?” Mercedes asks as she sets Brittany’s plate down in front of her, eyeing the pink splotching Brittany’s cheeks with amused delight, “Did I earn my way back onto Santana Clause’s nice list?”

Brittany glances up from her phone with a grin. “Latte or cappuccino?”

///

Before Brittany knows it, the matinee is over and she’s plunging her feet into a bucket of ice for the first time that night. Saturdays aren’t as busy as Sundays, where there’s a matinee at one and an evening show at five and they barely have time to breathe after the matinee before warmups for the evening show are starting, let alone eat or rest, but with Saturday matinees at two and the evening shows at eight, it still makes for a busy day.

Brittany’s only just pulling on her favourite pair of fuzzy socks, hopping around by her vanity, when there’s a knock at the door. She quickly tugs the sock the rest of the way up her calf, snapping the elastic as she calls a greeting. Santana nudges the door open with her toe, struggling with two big bags of food and a tray of coffees, her notebook tucked under her arm, almost flush with her armpit. “Hey,” she says, her voice almost as soft as her smile; it makes Brittany feel a little bit like she’s melting.

“Hi,” Brittany greets, hovering by the vanity as Santana slips further into the room. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Santana says nervously, “but Mike had something come up today and Tina doesn’t have any supper, so I invited her to join us once she’s done talking to Kurt, and because Mercedes was walking to costumes with Tina I invited her too. They’re going to be here at like five-thirty-ish.”

Brittany feels a flash of disappointment arc through her, but she pushes it aside, both because she genuinely doesn’t actually mind Tina and Mercedes eating with them, and because Santana looks just as disappointed as she feels that they’ll have extra company for supper. “That’s fine!” she says brightly, and she does really mean it, “But you owe me supper with just the two of us now.”

Santana’s eyes widen before they soften into something hopeful. “It’s a deal,” she says quietly as she steps all the way into the room, and Brittany’s pretty sure she’s going to hear that promise echoing around her head for days. “Do you want me to?” Santana trails off, gesturing towards the coffee table with the bag of food.

“Nope,” Brittany says happily. Santana frowns and her face grows tight and worried for a moment until Brittany points at her sneakers. “This is a no shoe zone while eating, remember?”

Santana relaxes and Brittany can hear her sigh of relief, even as she rolls her eyes, across the dressing room, and she would feel a little bad about scaring Santana like that if that furrow between her brows weren’t so damn cute. Brittany giggles and crosses the dressing room to take the tray of coffee from Santana, easing the notebook from under Santana’s arm as well. She sets the coffee down on the table and tosses the notebook onto the couch, sinking onto the floor with only a small groan as her muscles protest; she’s really going to have to stretch them out again before the evening show.

Santana kicks off her sneakers and struggles to shrug off her jacket, transferring the bags of food between her hands as she wiggles her arm around until her jacket drops off of her wrist and onto the chair by the door, leaving her in her black t-shirt and black skinny jeans. She drops the bags on the coffee table as she rounds it to sit beside Brittany, and Brittany’s eyes fall to her navy blue socks decorated with radishes and carrots and turnips. “Cute,” Brittany says, tickling her fingertips across the top of Santana’s foot. Santana rolls her eyes again, but her cheeks still dimple anyways, even as she fights off her smile.

Santana doesn’t just settle close enough that their knees are pressed together like yesterday, instead, since Brittany’s legs are stretched out under the coffee table, Santana settles close enough that their thighs press together. It makes every single nerve ending in Brittany’s body come alive, as if she had just been shocked awake, and she covers her reaction by dragging the coffee table towards them so they can still lean comfortably back against the couch. They silently divide up the food and coffee, leaving two piles for Tina and Mercedes once they show up, and once again Brittany marvels at their opposite handed dominance, because it means that not only do their thighs and hips remain pressed together, their calves brushing occasionally, but their arms from shoulder to elbow remain pressed together the entire time they’re eating as well. Brittany feels warm all over despite the goosebumps prickling her skin, and she’s so thankful she decided not to pull her sweater on after the show, because it means that her bare arm presses to Santana’s bare arm, and Brittany’s pretty sure Santana must have the softest and warmest skin ever.

They eat in comfortable silence for a while, and Brittany doesn’t find the need to fill the quiet like she usually does, instead they just pass their sandwiches back and forth so the other can try both kinds, sharing a small container of gravy, and smiling shyly every time their fingers brush.

Once Brittany feels like she’s satisfied the aching hole in her stomach—she’s always starving after a performance—she lets her head fall back on the couch and lazily lolls it towards Santana, pointing her toes to stretch out her legs a little more, shifting subtly so her calf presses to Santana all the way to their ankles. “So how’d the show go on your end?” she asks.

Santana finishes chewing on her bite of sandwich and swallows with an eye roll, her head shaking a little with the motion. “Fine, but that little gremlin in sound is getting on my last fucking nerve.”

Brittany studies Santana’s profile for a second before turning her head to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s ‘cause Sandy used to feed him after midnight,” Brittany says seriously.

Santana’s silent for a beat before she turns to Brittany with glowing eyes and playfully smacks her in the arm. “That movie gave me fucking nightmares as a kid!” she squeals. 

Brittany twists her face and drops her voice down to her raspiest, deepest octave, the kind that makes it feel like her vocal cords are scratching together and the urge to cough is almost overwhelming. “Gizmo, caca!” she croaks. 

“Stop it!” Santana squawks, smacking her again, but her brown eyes are bright and amused.

“Uh oh.”

“Seriously!” Santana laughs, “If I have nightmares tonight I’m blaming you!”

Brittany bursts into laughter as well, warmth ballooning in her chest until she feels like she might melt. “I haven’t seen that movie in forever.”

Santana shakes her head, obviously charmed but pretending she’s not. “You’re a goofball, you know that?”

Brittany nudges her with her shoulder. “You love it,” she teases.

Santana’s eyes go soft and liquid. “Yeah,” she breathes, and there’s a charged moment as Brittany sucks in a sharp breath, preparing for something without knowing what, before Santana flusters and quickly glances away, grabbing a couple fries to pop in her mouth.

“Have you seen him without hair gel?” Brittany asks.

Santana shakes her head, laughing as she swallows her mouthful, “No, I haven’t, but Mike said he looks like a Chia Pet.” 

Brittany glances slyly at Santana. “Who do you think came up with that?”

Santana bursts into giggles and shoves playfully at Brittany’s shoulder, sending her careening dramatically off balance, though Brittany only really lets herself fall back so far so has an excuse to compensate and lean further into Santana’s space when she sits back up. 

They talk about the show some more as they finish off their suppers, exchanging their sandwiches and fries for their cooling coffees. As the time creeps towards five-thirty, Santana grows nervous and almost twitchy, and Brittany can’t figure out why. She subtly shifts her legs until she can run her ankle along Santana’s for a brief moment, but that only makes Santana jump a little. Despite her earlier nerves, she doesn’t seem to still be anxious about Mercedes and Tina crashing their supper, but Brittany can’t quite figure out what’s bothering her now. She keeps glancing at Brittany and opening her mouth before snapping it closed and looking away before Brittany can see her, or before she realizes Brittany can see her, at least. Once she does this for about the seventh time, Brittany takes a steadying breath and studies Santana’s profile for a long while before she nudges her gently with her elbow. “Hey,” she says softly, “Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

Santana glances at Brittany sharply, for barely a second, almost before Brittany can register the tension there, before she softens. “I— Uh, yeah. I just— I overheard you last night,” she admits, “In the snow corps dressing room. What you said about bullying and, um, knowing other dancers to replace them if they kept being mean or, uh, whatever.”

Brittany tenses, and draws back from Santana a little. Santana was never meant to find out about that, let alone hear it. Heat crawls under the skin on the back of Brittany’s neck but the rest of her body breaks out in chills, a little bit like when she’s sicker than a dog and fighting a fever. “I— Um—” she stutters, her stomach knotting at the realization that Santana probably thinks that she was completely inappropriate for stepping out of line like that. “You weren’t supposed to— I mean I didn’t mean to— I know it was probably not my place at all or whatever but I— I just,” she finally trails off lamely when she realizes that Santana isn’t getting angry or annoyed, she’s just staring at Brittany with something unreadable in her eyes. 

Santana just looks at Brittany for a long time, long enough that Brittany starts to fidget under her dark gaze, her eyes darting between Brittany’s before settling into the deepest groove of them. “Thank you,” she whispers, and Brittany feels the knot just below her sternum ease even as goosebumps break out all across her body, “I— I can’t even say how much it means to me.” Santana opens her mouth, but then closes it, her lips pressed together as she shakes her head a little bit, almost like she can’t believe that Brittany is actually sitting there in front of her. Santana’s eyes dart down for a split second before catching back on Brittany’s, just a little bit wet and adoring. “My hero,” she breathes, and though she tries to imbue a slightly teasing tone to the words to mask how much they mean, her voice only comes out soft and warm and fond.

For a split second Brittany thinks that Santana might take her hand, or hug her, or even lean in and kiss her cheek, which, of course, means that this is the exact moment that someone knocks on the door and only gives it a split second before easing it open. They both jump a little, and despite straightening their spines and leaning back a little, neither of them realizing their faces had drifted so close together, they don’t move far enough to break the contact of their legs and arms.

Mercedes and Tina greet them as the step into the room, and Brittany feels her cheeks heat up even though she didn’t do anything wrong; Santana grows breathless and warm beside her, and they both resolutely pretend that their faces weren’t only a couple inches apart just a couple seconds ago.

Their two supper crashers sit down across from them, and Brittany and Santana reluctantly draw their legs up to make room for their friends. They still remain pressed close to each other, but Brittany instantly misses the electrifying warmth of the entire length of Santana’s leg pressed against hers. 

Mercedes and Tina dig into their suppers, and they all easily start chatting about the matinee, everything Santana still has to do before the evening show, the latest gossip around the theatre, which Mercedes and Tina relay to an eager Santana, who is both interested and horrified in equal parts, and then what they’re planning on doing after the show tonight. Santana is going straight home to collapse into bed; Brittany’s planning on Skyping with her parents and sister for a while; Tina’s going to drop Santana off and then meet up with Mike for drinks; Mercedes is driving Sam home and then collapsing into bed as well. 

“So what are you guys planning to do on your day off?” Mercedes asks as she drags a fry through the ketchup she squirted onto the styrofoam lid of her sandwich container. 

Brittany wiggles her toes a little, brushing them against Santana’s thigh and barely catching the shiver it elicits. “I’m not planning on doing anything,” Brittany says, her attention mostly on Santana. 

Mercedes laughs. “You’re planning on doing laundry.”

Brittany pouts but knows that she’s right. “Only if you make me your famous cookies again as a reward.”

“Girl it’s your own laundry! You don’t deserve a reward for doing your own laundry!” Mercedes protests, but they both know that Brittany’s going to get her cookies anyways.

Brittany grins and nudges Santana with her elbow. “What about you?”

Santana turns her head towards Brittany a little, but her eyes never leave Tina’s, and Brittany watches in fascination as they seem to be having an entire conversation without saying a single word. “Well it’s tradition for me and Tina and Mike to go out for brunch whenever we’re free, which is actually easy now since we’re all working on the same production for the first time since college.”

“The same place as Monday?” Brittany asks curiously.

Tina groans from across the coffee table. “For eight damn years,” she whines.

Santana sticks her tongue out at Tina and Brittany’s stomach flutters; she really is too cute for her own good. “You love it,” Santana teases. She finally turns her full attention to Brittany and gives her a small, dimpled smile. “And then we were planning on hanging out at the mall and knocking off some Christmas shopping.”

“That sounds fun,” Brittany says earnestly.

“Jeez,” Mercedes says from across the table, her voice bright with realization, “Christmas shopping is going to be damn near impossible with this production’s schedule.”

Tina glances at Santana, and Santana gives her a tiny nod. Brittany watches Santana curiously out of the corner of her eye even as she turns her face towards Tina and Mercedes. “Why don’t you guys come with us?” Tina suggests, and a tiny thrill of giddy warmth curls in Brittany’s stomach. “You could bring Sam and we can all meet up for brunch at the same place at like ten? I think the mall opens at nine, but I know none of us will want to get up earlier than we have to,” Tina laughs. “We could go out for supper afterwards too. It’ll be fun!” 

Mercedes turns to Brittany with a questioning look, her eye brow slightly raised as her eyes slide to Santana before pinning Brittany with that knowing look of hers; Brittany blushes despite herself. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Brittany says slowly, glancing around the coffee table before her eyes land and linger on Santana, “That sounds much better than laundry.”

Tina cheers and Mercedes gives Brittany a coy smile, but Brittany’s attention is caught completely by Santana’s bright, hopeful expression. “Cool,” she manages, and Brittany finally gets to see that adorably tough façade of hers, the exact same one Brittany imagined this morning, but so much better in person.

Mercedes and Tina start working out the details, huddling together to peer over Tina’s phone as they look for what stores are in the mall and what time it opens at and what the best idea for transportation is, but Brittany is suddenly struck by the realization that her and Santana will be spending the day with two other couples, two couples who are definitely, one-hundred percent dating. Brittany doesn’t mind playing the third wheel, she’s done it for the last month or so that Mercedes and Sam have been dating, and even longer if you count how long they just pined after each other, and she’s pretty sure that Santana has been playing the third wheel since college; but the thing is, is that Brittany doesn’t want to be the third wheel tomorrow. She doesn’t want to just be the other half of a third wheel to a Mike-and-Tina and Mercedes-and-Sam double date; she wants to be the third part of a triple date. But she only wants that if Santana wants that, and she can’t know that unless she asks Santana, and she has to take a long drink from her cold coffee to steel her nerves.

She glances at Mercedes and Tina to double check that they’re sufficiently distracted, before she leans even closer to Santana, close enough that she actually sees Santana’s breath hitch. Santana turns her head towards Brittany and suddenly her warm breath is fanning across the sensitive skin of Brittany’s face, and it’s as if every single nerve ending just woke up form a long sleep. “What?” Santana whispers.

“Is, uh, I mean—” Brittany breathes, “Mercedes and Sam are dating, and Mike and Tina are dating, so is this, um, you know? I mean, no pressure! Or anything. I don’t want it to be if you don’t. And uh— Yeah,” she finishes lamely. She knows she’s rambling and barely making any sense, but she can’t manage to stop herself or make herself coherent. When Santana’s eyes lock on hers something jolts up her spine; it feels a little bit like that time she got a little bit electrocuted by the tea urn that summer she worked in the kitchen of her neighbour’s family restaurant, like a thick current of pure energy just coursed through her veins and jerked her limbs, leaving her shaking and with a heavily pounding heart.

Santana’s expression is breathless and bright, her dark eyes wide and impossibly deep as she stares at Brittany. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want it to be,” she mumbles.

Brittany swallows thickly, glancing quickly at Mercedes and Tina and finding them still distracted by Tina’s phone. “And if I want it to be?” she whispers.

Brittany can hear Santana suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes soften and liquify, like melting chocolate. “Then yeah,” Santana breathes, “It definitely could be.”

Brittany kind of can’t help it when she feels her softest smile spread across her face, and as Santana’s softest smile spreads in return, Brittany can feel that bright, lifting warmth in her chest again, and she’s suddenly desperate for Monday to arrive.

[blueinkblot]

*internally screaming*

So, thanks for @ofvisitorsthefairest for asking about and letting me spill about Signs of Change a little bit.

The main idea of SoC is that it’s the formation of the (Western) Zodiac as a super-team of people who eventually become immortal. They do start out mortal, with their own parents and siblings, but they are soon chosen by gods and made immortal. The main plotline of the story is as cultures grow and clash, the Zodiac are meant to fight one another like overpowered chess pieces as the different pantheons clash along with their cultures to keep their dominance. (Oof, now I’m not sure how I’m going to handle Judeo-Christian religions - maybe they stay immortal, but they fade in power as the gods did) They get their Zodiac moniker (and their individual signs) when the different pantheons come together and recognize that they’re no longer the powerhouses they used to be (as the world comes into the “modern” age) and the Signs are allowed to be as they please. They part ways for a while, but the end of the saga comes when they find each other once again and settle down together.

But I’m having trouble getting started with it since I’m starting back in Ye Olde Classic Days (like the ancient days) and having to have all the people come together.

The basic ideas I have for the characters so far are:

Aries: Southern American. Incan/Mayan/Aztec? Not really sure. SHORT. Wields a bullwhip and some sort of knife

Taurus: Mongolian. Dark hair, green eyes. Stubborn. (They’re one of the ones I did the ask on). Gender fluid, pansexual. Uses a blunt force weapon like a mace or a bat. They were Turkish at one point, I think, and I think I had named them Yagmur (which, as I found it, is pronounced “yah-moor”, I think - it’s a feminine name and I had made them female at that point in development)

Gemini: Twins. Literally, Victoria (brown hair and green eyes) and Elizabeth (blonde hair and blue eyes). They’re from somewhere in Britain (or pre-Britain, think the tribes before the Romans got there. Would be cool if they could interact with Boudicca, if everything works out) Victoria runs with the punk crowd towards modern history, and Elizabeth tends to stray more posh.

Cancer: Irish. Big, reddish hair (no, stop it, she’s not Merida). Trans woman, lesbian

Leo: Ethiopia? Nigeria? Libya? Tunisia? Algeria? (The last three are sort of where Carthage was in the ancient world unless I’m wrong, and Queen Dido is another awesome ancient figure that it would be cool to include). She becomes a fashion designer/model/icon in the modern day

Virgo: Marie! (She’s the other one I did for my ask) French, very prototypical blonde hair blue eyes. Can do parkour and is especially skilled with throwing knives. Tends to be the one that the other signs come to for relationship/love/sex advice, but her real advice is just “tell them how you feel” and when she’s asked how she’s so good it’s just “luck, really.”

Libra: MAAAAAAGIC. Literally she’s the “mage” of the group. Not sure of her origins yet. She’s got white hair and violet eyes (pale, though, not super dark, and I swear I thought of this before I knew of the A Song of Ice and Fire series/GOT show). Has a weapon that ties into her magic but she can also use for melee if she “overheats” her magic. (Has narcolepsy?)

Scorpio: Middle-Eastern, probably Iranian. Dark hair, fuchsia/deep purple-red eyes. Eventually (i.e. once the team assembles) she’s going to wield a khopesh, I think, because of how the sword resembles a scorpion’s tail. Has to be once the team has assembled or once she has personally gone through Egypt since khopeshes (is that how you make that plural?) are Egyptian. (There will also be a lot of weapon cross-over with other Zodiac characters as well).

Sagittarius (Oh, hey, that’s my sign!): She’s an archer of some sort. Demi-ace or grey-ace, not sure, and pansexual. At first I had her as Ancient Greek, or Roman, but they felt too easy. Then there was “The Eagle Hunter,” which is about a Kazakh girl training to become an eagle hunter, but I’m still not super sure where she’s going to hail from. I might even take a closer look at Native North American people since I know some of them hunted with bows.

Capricorn: She hails from India! At one point she wielded a staff, fun fact. She’s a polyglot and has a propensity for learning (especially literature), fuzzy sweaters, and general coziness. Likes warm drinks (esp. fall-flavored drinks, although she won’t turn down a peppermint mocha or latte or hot chocolate), and piles blankets on herself to go to sleep. Lesbian.

Aquarius: I’m still doing research into Pacific Islanders and Polynesians to better understand their cultures (since they're all fascinating and I want to choose them all but she can only be raised in one culture). Lives to be around the ocean. Passionate mathematician and physicist (likes all the sciences but those are her favorites). Will, at one point in the story, have a Samoyed and will, at another point, dye the end of her hair teal.

Pisces: She is Japanese! I at one point named her Sakura but wasn’t sure of the name. She will, at one point in the story, wield sais (fun fact, they’re the original weapons I envisioned for her). Also a polyglot (like Capricorn, they’re study buddies), she enjoys history and religious studies. She has brown eyes and black hair somewhere between her chin and her shoulders. When she was mortal she had an older brother (who in one writing either was in the military or was going to become a samurai, I can’t remember).

So! Info dump, I know, but I’d love to hear people’s thoughts/ideas.

This is also like one of the ideas I’ve had the longest (and the most sustained interest in getting published) and it’s really precious to me.