#some parent dropped their sunglasses and he decided to have some fun before returning them to the proper owner

[sun-e-chips]

Ended my day with some magma on the @daycarefriendpickup discord!

Doodle of Sun from my waterpark au

[dorotharry]

i want to write you a song

pairing: modern!bucky x singer!reader

warnings: nothing i don’t think just fluff eeeek (maybe mention of parents that have passed away) (ignore lack of capitals i wrote this on my phone)

blurb: where bucky has trouble dealing with his past and constantly feels he’s not good enough for reader. so her being a musician/singer she writes him a song.

a/n: i thought of this a little while ago but i decided to write it while i was bored on the plane. hope you enjoy :)

MY MASTERLIST

it had been a year for bucky. a year since losing steve and a year since the final battle.

after everything bucky was still plagued with nightmares. shuri had removed all the awful things hydra had put in his brain, but he still constantly felt shame and guilt for his past.

so when he met you 6 months after thanos, and coming back after the snap it had been hard for him to accept your love. and to realise that even through the nightmares and mental torture you still loved him.

unlike bucky you weren’t one of the lost. you had to live in a world for 5 years without many of the people you cared about.

you had always had a passion for music but in a time where the world was broken you turned to music even more. and even though it was a sad and hard time you had 3.5 billion less people that could want to be a musician and so people started to actually hear your music. most people turning to it for comfort.

you had always felt pain, even before the snap; having lost your family years beforehand. and so when anyone you had considered close left there was nothing left for you besides music.

when people actually listened, it made you feel like finally you had a purpose in the world.

in those 5 years you became a house hold name. so many people listening to your music which sang the words impossible to speak when most felt numb.

5 awful years went by, and finally the rest of the world came back after the final battle. you became even more of a well known name then as familys and friends shared your music with those they had lost to tell them what exactly had gotten them through. your music.

you felt honoured. and yet there was still a hole within you. a hole that had been there even before everything.

it was one day 6 months after everyone had returned when you had left your apartment in new york to get a coffee at your favourite local cafe. you had your usual cap and sunglasses on, in an attempt to disguise yourself.

without paying attention you swung the cafe door open hitting another customer with two coffees in hand, sending his drinks flying. like you he had a cap and sunglasses on.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry” you rambled pulling your sunglasses off in hope he could see your sincerity. by now he’d removed his sunglasses himself but he was looking nervously at the ground.

“no it’s okay i shouldn’t have these on insid-“ his voice cut off as he looked up at you. “you’re (y/n).”

you sent him an apologetic look, but it quickly turned to a smirk. “that i am. and your bucky barnes. but no it’s my fault, i wasn’t paying attention.”

his gaze suddenly seemed more nervous again. “your one of the few people that hasn’t referred to me as the winter soldier” he spoke letting out a small smile.

you smiled back at his response. “why would i? anyway please let me buy you some new coffees” by now the staff had started cleaning up the mess sending you both glares.

“no you don’t have to i can get some new ones.” he responded shrugging.

“no no, it’s the least i can do bucky.” you responded giving him a big grin.

“fine” he finally sighed. “if you you insist,” his poker face turning to a smile.

you both walked over to the counter walking around the now clean but wet floor. you ordered yours and his drinks giving the cafe a $50 tip as an apology for messing up their morning.

while you were both waiting for your drinks you continued your conversation. “so how does the bucky barnes know who i am?” you asked wiggling your eyebrows as you emphasised his name.

his face blushed as he laughed at your expressions. “well my best friend steve listened to your music a lot when half the world was gone. myself included. and so he showed me it once i came back. thought i might enjoy the sadness of the music.”

you jaw dropped as you gasped. “you mean to tell me the captain america knew who i was?! that’s way more cool than you knowing who i am”

it was buckys turn to gasp. he placed his hand over his heart in a dramatic manner, “i’m hurt doll, truly hurt.”

your heart fluttered at the pet name he had just given you but instead of showing it you just stuck out your tongue in cheeky manner.

more chatting went on between the two of you until finally you got your order. unfortunately the perks of going to a very busy cafe.

you exited the warm cafe and were met with the cool winter air of new york. pulling you jacket in closer to yourself. your sunglasses already back on.

“now i don’t really know how to do this anymore. the last time i flirted was in the 1940s but i was wondering if i could get your number?” bucky asked cautiously. you could tell he was nervous.

your heart fluttered again. he wanted your number? you fumbled with your words. “y-yeah of course!”

his face fell slightly noticing your nervousness. “if you don’t want to give it to me don’t feel like you have to” he replied.

“no no it’s not that bucky. i just would never have thought someone as attractive as yourself would want my number.” your eyes fell the ground in embarrassment.

it was buckys turn to be surprised. “if anything it’s the other way around doll” he replied as he handed you his flip phone.

after you had given him your number you had continued to walk with him to the avengers compound. (for once not having anything on this morning). you had resisted the urge the entire time to make fun of his flip phone.

it didn’t take long for you to become attached to bucky as the months went on. much like he did with you.

you had begun dating a month in and would see each other as often as both your schedules would let you.

you had tried to keep the relationship hidden for a while. but it didn’t take long for the public to notice that ‘the winter soldier’ was dating the worlds beloved ‘(y/n) (y/l/n)’.

of course rumours spread and though both of you had anxieties that neither of you were good enough for the other. it was bucky who it affected more. constantly acting as if you would just disappear one day and he’d be left an empty shell of a person like he once was.

after around six months you had become so comfortable with one another. and so his insecurities were something you could never understand, having never endured what he had. to you he was the strongest person. to him you were the strongest person he knew.

it was your 5 month anniversary of dating coming up and though it was drastically important it meant a lot to you so you wanted to do something special. something to ease his insecurities so you did what you did best. make music.

you were in your apartment the only light around you being the glow of candles. just having finished dinner as you snuggled up to him on your couch.

you looked up to the beautiful man you felt honoured to call your own.

“i have a gift for you.” you spoke softly.

“oh yeah?” he smiled giving you a kiss on the nose causing you to blush.

“yep” you replied, “but i’m gonna have to go get it.” you jumped up out of his arms and he pouted as you ran off.

seconds later you returned with your guitar sitting back down next to him. he raised an eyebrow at this.

you gave him a kiss on the cheek and then leaned back again, “i wrote you a song to tell you just what i see from my eyes when i look at you.”

this caused bucky to blush but he stayed silent, encouraging you to begin.

and so you began to pick a simple and soft melody.

i want to write you song

one as beautiful as you are sweet

with just a hint of pain

for the feeling that i get when you are gone

i want to write you song

i wanna lend you my coat

one that’s as soft as your cheek

so when the world gets cold

you will having a hiding place you can go

i wanna lend you my coat

oh, everything i need i get from you

oh, and giving back is all i wanna do

i wanna build you boat

one that’s a strong as you are free

so every time you think

that your heart is gonna sink

you know it won’t

i wanna build you a boat

oh, everything i need i get from you

oh, and giving back is all i wanna do

you began to play a little interlude and bucky took that as his time to speak finally grinning, “i like the part about boats.”

you rolled your eyes. “shut up bucky i’m not finished” causing you to giggle as you began to sing again.

oh, everything i need i get from you

oh, and giving back is all i wanna do

i wanna write you a song

one to make your heart remember me

so anytime i’m gone

you can listen to my voice and sing along

i wanna write you a song

i wanna write you a song

as you finished the end of the song you suddenly felt very vulnerable. but once you looked at bucky all you saw in his eyes was admiration.

“bucky everything i sang then i meant, you truly are the strongest person i know. and i love you more than anything.”

he carefully took the guitar from your hands and placed it gently on the ground. grabbing your waist he pulled you close resting his forehead against yours.

“doll, if anyone is to say the words you just sang it should be me. i have lived in darkness for so long. and anytime i have felt the smallest amount of happiness it’s been taken from me.”

a tear fell down your face. you hadn’t known him that long but you knew he was your soulmate.

“i love you.” you whispered looking at his beautiful blue eyes.

“i definitely love you more,” he responded pulling you into a soft but passionate kiss.

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

[lalainajanes]

For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.

Masks Off

When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.

And exhausted.

She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.

It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.

The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.

She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.

Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.

She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.

She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.

She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.

There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but  Caroline knows he must be working on something big.

Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.

The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.

It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.

She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.

She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.

She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?

Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.

She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.

As does another person.

Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.

She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.

There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.

When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.

She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”

It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.

But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.

The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”

Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.

Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”

She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”

Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.

Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.

“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.

The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.

Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.

Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.

She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.

Well, crap.

If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.

Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”

“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”

She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.

She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.

Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.

* * * * *

Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.

She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.

Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.

She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.

Which is not ideal.

Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”

Damn it.

Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.

She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.

Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.

“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”

The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”

Caroline can admit that’s fair.

“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”

No one even cracks a smile.

“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”

No response.

Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”

Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”

Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.

The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.

“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”

Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”

She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.

Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”

Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”

Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.

It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.

Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.

A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.

Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.

He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”

He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”

He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.

“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”

She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”

His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”

His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.

He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.

Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”

The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.

* * * * *

Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.

She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.

The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”

Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.

She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.

There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.

The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.

And promptly drops her wine class.

The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.

Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.

She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.

Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”

She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.

Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.

* * * * *

Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.

Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.

Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.

But she’s getting ahead of herself.

Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.

She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”

Which answers one of her most pressing questions.

Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”

Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”

He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”

She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.

Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.

She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”

Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.

Caroline refuses to find it endearing.

At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Request:  student x teacher au fic with lana, billie or cordelia?

Note: Added in a little sparkle with a soulmate AU. Those who are lucky enough to have a soulmate are assigned a necklace with a small pendant. No one knows where they come from or how they’re decided; they just appear and will match your soulmate’s identically. Also, yes the reader is eighteen, and yes there will probably be a part two.

Requests are open!

Your routine was like clock-work; every morning without fail. 5am you would get out of bed and go on a run. There was no reason, really. You weren't someone who was that interested in athletics, it was just a way to clear your mind and wake up your mind and body before going to school and having the energy sucked out of you.

You adored the way the sky looked this early in the morning as you ran through the country park. The heat gave you an extra kick of gratification as you watched the sky dance in colours of orange and pink, painting everything in shades of gold. The sun crept through the mountain like liquid glory and you couldn't get enough of it.

Realising the time, you made your way back to your neighbourhood, waving at neighbours you often saw at this time of morning.

You saw many of the same people on morning runs that you eventually learned by name while running past them, shouting a greeting and waving as you sped past them. This morning, you noticed that the home a few lots down from your own had been purchased; the new inhabitents were outside, speaking with a contractor.

As you ran, you noticed the woman watching you. Breaking your glance, you made a mental note to introduce yourself later.

The shower couldn't come soon enough as you lathered the cool water on your body. Cold showers after a run provided that little extra adrenaline rush that you needed to get you through the day, and boy would you need it today.

After months of persuasion, you had finally given in to skipping the end of school and heading to a gay bar with your friends Emmett and Heather. Being the model student you were, you had declined the offer time and time again; but after catching your boyfriend with another girl and the subsequent break up of one of the most liked couples in school, you decided that now would be the best time for it.

The school day rushed in and at 12pm on the dot, you and Emmett made your way to Heather's car, where she sat impatiently tapping her foot.

"You two took your sweet time," the blonde muttered, pulling on a pair of sunglasses and revving up the engine.

The plan was simple; Heather's parents were out of town for the week so the three of you planned to stay over. Today would be spent getting ready and having a few drinks before hitting the bar in order for you to have a "drink in celebration" for breaking up with your ex-boyfriend.

The bar was lively, and you could smell the mixture of cheap cigarettes, alcohol and weed and hear the music from the street behind. Emmett compared the similarity of the three of you strutting to the bar to the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus.

Heather nudged you yet again, her elbow hitting a nerve in your ribs and making you bounce.

"Will you quit that?" you snapped, realising your fourth cocktail was making you slightly irritable.

Heather glared at you and pulled you over to whisper in your ear. "The brunette at seven o'clock has looked from her phone to you at least four times," she hissed, releasing you and nodding her head in the direction.

You nodded in understanding and gestured for her to tell you what to do. Picking chicks up at a bar wasn't exactly something you were accustomed to, after all.

"Go up to the bar and order something-" she looked at your outift, "-I don't know. Some business casual-sounding drink. Like an Old Fashioned or something. Make a joke about how much you've drank and if she's warm then ask if she's here with someone. Then go in for the kill and Emmett and I will be your wing-people when you break your seal."

"Break my what?"

Heather practically shoved you off your chair.

You shrugged and walked towards the bar, standing close to the brunette, but not close enough so that she knew what you were up to. The bartender approached and you smiled at her.

"Hey, could I get an Old Fashioned pl-"

"And get me another piña colada while you're making your move!" Heather called, acting more drunk than she was in an effort to hint off to the lady. You glared at her, and in return, for some added effect she lent into full view of the lady, shot her a cheesy grin and gave her a thumbs up.

You spun on your heel to see if the lady had noticed, and to your dismay she had. She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

At least she didn't look disappointed.

"Was that for me?" She chuckled, taking a tip from her class. You grinned as casually as possible, looking down at your hands. You finished off your order and paid, waiting for Heather to get her drink to no avail.

"You know what, yeah I think it was for you actually," you replied. Keeping it cool was the buzz phrase Heather had been using all day. "I'm sorry but my friend claimed that she had seen you checking me out a few times and was pretty insistant that I come over and talk to you."

You sat in the stool, leaving one between you.

The lady chuckled. "It's fine," she said, taking another sip. "I'd be grateful for the company."

"You're alone? You're more than welcome to sit with my friends and I," you offered.

You cut off immediately by Heather collecting her drink, standing between you and muttering, "don't you fucking dare," into your ear before walking over to the woman and leaning over her shoulder.

"Now, you see, Ms- I'm sorry what's your name? Jesus, Y/N! When you flirt it's basic manners to ask for a name," Heather muttered.

"It's Lana," she replied, smiling at you.

Lana. A pretty name.

"Awh, that's a lovely name actually, I wish my parents liked me enough to call me something like that. Anyways, enough about me. So, anyways, my good friend Y/N here just got two-timed by a piece of human trash that she's way hotter than and everyone warned her against dating but hey- you know our Y/N, she's balls-ier than a dodgey testical. So, all I'm really gonna say is we came here because we really want to get her laid so she doesn't need to feel like she got the short end of the bargain so, you know-"

At this stage Heather was trying to communicate through a series of dramatic gestures. Emmett strod over, took Heather by the shoulders and apologised to Lana before walking your drunk friend back to your table.

You were both a little shell-shocked and you feared that Heather's drunken rant had ruined any sembelance of a chance that you had with getting anywhere with this.

"I- I'm so sorry. She doesn't get out much," you said. Lana's smile returned as she waved it off.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot younger than twenty-one?" she asked. You couldn't tell if she was being genuine or if she was trying to hint that she thought you were younger than your ID said.

You nodded. "All the time," you say, it's not like that's a lie. "How old are you? If you're not offended by my asking."

"I'm twenty-nine. I hit the big three-oh in November," she replied. Lana reached into her bag and pulled out a box of Newport cigarettes. "I'm sorry, I've had a long day and I'm dying for a smoke. Care to join me?"

You sat still for a moment before excepting the offer. The club was absolutely packed and you could barely follow Lana through to the balcony without getting separated from her. She noticed and turned around, taking your hand and keeping you close so that you didn't get lost in the crowd.

Lana lent over the metal fence, cupping her hand over her lighter. You watched how her cheeks sucked in, defining her cheekbones and her jawline. You mirrored her position against the fence.

"Hard day at the office?" You asked, declining the cigarette she offered you. "Thanks but I don't smoke."

Lana smiled down at her cigarette. "I like a smart girl. Stay away from these for as long as possible," she took a long draw. "And to answer your question; I moved into a new house today only to find out that none of the plumbing was actually installed and contractor has no idea why."

"My house was like that too; turns out the pipes are just in really weird places," you replied. You turned to face in the opposite direction, laying your elbows onto the bar and watching the crowd. "What do you do? Career wise?"

Lana blew out a puff. "I'm a teacher. French and English Literature."

Ah great; a French student trying to hit on a French teacher. This was gonna be a fun story to tell the group.

"You're kidding? I'm studying French," you replied. 

Lana laughed. "Damn, Y/N. This just has to be written in the stars," she replied, you could sent the well-meant underlying sarcasm in her voice. "You think I have that chance?" You ask, your eyes dart down to her hand. Her ring finger, although bare had an imprint on it as if she had only recently removed a ring. She noticed you looking and brought her hand into a fist.

"Don't look at me like that, Y/N. We're getting divorced," she said. She bit her lip and looked down into the woods beneath. 

You felt slightly guilty. "Oh, I'm sorry." Lana shook her head in response.

"I'm in a gay bar for Christ's sake. We definetly weren't compatiable," she chuckled, reaching for another draw of her cigarette. She turned around, some noise in the background catching her attention. Her sleeve dropped a little bit, revealing two bruises at the side of her wrist that she had clearly tried to cover with foundation. Lana turned back around and you dropped your eyes before you noticed, unaware if it was your place to ask.

"If I'm honest, I don't really like bars. I know this really nice café a few places down. Do you wanna come with me?" You asked. Lana's head cocked slightly, her eyes scanned you as if they were looking for some alterier motive. "I'm not trying to get laid, Lana. I just don't like clubs and I don't think you do either."

Lana's shoulders relaxed, as if trying to decide. "Sure," she nodded. "I'd love to."

You walked back in through the bar, telling Emmett what you were doing. He made you promise to turn on your location and to call him to pick you up when you were ready to leave.

"It's nice that you have friends to watch your back," Lana said as you walked down the street. The air was now cold, nipping at your cheeks and nose. Lana slid her arm through yours after asking if it was okay to do so.

The café in question was small; dimly lit, decorated with plants. It was warm inside and the candles lit everything in orange. It was peaceful. You heard Lana sigh with relaxation as you asked her what she'd like to drink.

Two lattes later, you and Lana lay on the same old, green, springless couch. You giggled and talked for what could have been hours.

Lana noticed your Soul Necklace. “I have one too,” she said, touching the stone delicately. “I’ve never worn it though.”

She told you stories from high school and college while you sat and listened to her in some new form of fascination. You could listen to her talk forever. Your head rested on her shoulder, and hers rested on your head. There was an echo of peace which bounced around the both of you.

Eventually there came a moment when you had finally plucked up enough courage in a moment of silence between you to lift her chin with your finger and close in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but you could still rellish the feeling of her lips kissing back against yours in a gentle passion.

She waited on you while Emmett drove back to get you, with an extremely drunk Heather in the backseat. 

"Are you free tomorrow night?" Lana asked before she walked away. You nodded. "Would you like to maybe go out? On a date?"

Her final question was asked with a shyness that you found adorable, and giving her a kiss on the cheek as

The next day you went to school in a good mood. Your run was better than ever. Your breakfast was tastier. The sky was more beautiful. You couldn't contain your giggles as Heather drove you and Emmett to school.

"I cannot believe you've landed yourself a date with a teacher," Emmett said as the three with you walked to your French class. You practically danced down the corridor with happiness. The three of you were slightly late to class.

You pushed the door open harder than you intended, making it crash against the wall with a loud bang. You muttered an apology while your friends laughed at you and the teacher settled them down, chuckling under her breath.

That it until she looked up at you.

And you looked up at her.

Lana muttered a profanity under her breath as she realised that she had asked one of her students on a date.

taglist: @its-soph-xx​

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Soulmate Au

Before you meet your soulmate you have to deal with a chibi version of them before actually meeting them. So can you handle it?

Reader's point of view

Dabi's perspective

You were anxious. Two years have passed since your 18 birthday... and your chibi didn't made any appearance or any living signal.

Ever since that you've been made fun of. Your parents tried to comfort you by that didn't meant they wouldn't dissapointed as well...

Now, settle in your new apartment, you huffed as you watched a nonconformist about two soulmates meeting eachother chibis evem before 18! You should be one of the unluckiest persons on the world or you didn't had a soulmate...

Getting up, you decided to turn on the stove to make yourself some noodles before your stomach decided to make his existence knowledgeable.

Heating the water up you sighed before you tensed at hearing the door cracking. Arching one euebrow and looking over your shoulder you shrugged before returning your attention to the stove amd screaming when you saw what was there.

It looked at you with bored turquoise eyes, underneath and almost half of its face had burnt marks. Slowly trying to reach for a wood spoon you had to at least defend yourself the little man just raised his tiny hand first and burned to ashes your spoon!

"Hey!" You shriek and it only smirked at you before dropping from the counter and putting his hands on his tiny jacket and walking towards the living room.

You blinked, not quite certain of what just happened before your mind clicked as you gasped in realization.

That was the chibi! Your chibi!

.

.

.

Your chibi was a quite handful one. He was always with that stoic face presented and neither tried to reach for your affection like most chibis would do... You were getting worried at it but slowly noticed that the chibi acted like that because your own soulmate had that personality.

"How lucky am I huh?" You sighed, resting your elbows on your legs and face on your hands as your chibi stared back at you with the same poker face as usual.

Although his activities and scars, you couldn't help but to find the chibi beautiful, giving you more and more wish to meet already the handsome man that was destined to be your soulmate.

"You are beautiful you know that?" You mumbled out loud and you giggled at the way the chibi's blue eyes widened before he scratched the back of neck, looking at his side to hide the faintest blush on the non scarred part of his cheek.

"Do... do chibis even eat?" You mused out loud and the chibi only stared back at you like you were an idiot. You gulped before listening to the sound of the water boiling and getting ready to make your noodles.

Whem you came back with a bowl your chibi suddenly squeaked. It was kinda rough and scratch type of squeak but adorable no less.

"You want it?" You offered a bit in your chopper sticks, blowing them a bit before feeding the chibi.

It finally smiled at you! A true kind of smile, not a sick or scary smirk he showed to you later!

It was a first step!

.

.

.

Days passed by and the little fire blue ball warmed up to you. You, not knowing what else to name, decided to just refer at him like fireball sue to the obvious show of his quirk.

He always prefered to remain on your lap and on walk just sitting on your shoulder chilling. If anyone even dared to come closer you had to be carefull with your hair because the little shit immeditaly put his own little hand on fire.

Always after that you could smell the burnt of his skin. Frowning at it you cupped the chibi on your hands and kissed his hands. He didn't mind it all but as always the quiet chibi he was, didn't let out one single squeak.

"You know, I am grateful for you protecting me, but if it hurts you please dont do it, I dont want my soulmate suffering." You smiled gently at him which he only shrugged before carresing your cheek with his smaller hand.

You put him back on his shoulder and continue to walk before you stopped at the huge amount of people surrounding at least three heroes. You smiled at the childs asking for autographs before you sense it your chibi getting tense kn your shoulder when both of you spotted the current number one hero. Endeavour.

You looked at him and found him looking down at his hands.

"Not a fan of heroes fireball?" You asked gently before gasping at how he scotted over to cuddle ok your neck, burying his little face on it as you tried to cuddle him back on the best way you could. "Let's go home. Is better when is just the two of us right?" You asked with a kind smile as he only nodded in your shoulder.

.

.

.

You were watching the news as your chibi took a nap in your lap, gently snores letting go of his tiny mouth as the reporter spoke. Suddenly it came the news of the most ranked villains...

Widening your eyes you saw a familiar man controling blue flames on the attack of the camping from the U.A school. Shakily looking down and up none of it could hid it... Your soulmate was a villain. A rank B fucking villain called Dabi.

Before you could react you suddenly felt a huge pain on your arm. Clenching you pet out a painful scream, making your chibi shriek in your lap before you dropped in the ground, tears gathering in your eyes as the pain suddenly changed from your arm to your back.

Curling up on the ground, whinning when the pain suddenly eased a bit you opened your eyes to see and hear your chibi, wide eyes and even the mint stables of his cheek and eyes to go off as his squeaks echoed in worry.

Whatever it was you felt... it wasn't your soulmate. If it was the chibi wouldn't be on this state...

"I-I'm fine... I g-guess I just need to go to the hospital to check my arm..." the chibi frowned and hugged your hand when you got up amd you smiled.

For a villain this man was surely an affectionate and touchy one...

.

.

.

"A fractured arm?" You whispered as your chibi remained hidden on your hoodie.

"Sadly. Wear this sling for a few days and it should be okay, you're lucky! It almost broke." You gulped as you got out of the office only for your chibi to pop out from your hoodie and squeak.

"Is just a fracture arm fireball." You smiled at him "I will live!"

The chibi frowned at you, clearly not believing you before hiis eyes went wide as his whole little body trembled in your shoulder.

"Are you okay? Sweety?" You cupped him on your hand before he squeaked, shaking your finger and looking at your front. He started to squeak more and more loudly as you.

"W-Wait-!" You almost panicked when he jumped from your hand and only gave a tiny little tug on you before running off. Running after him you bumped into a few nurses, apologizing profusely.

"HEY! YOU WILL HURT YOURSELF!" You screamed before bumping into a hoodie masked man and falling on the ground.

You clenched with your free hand the side of your face before looking at the pair of chibis hugging eachother like their life depended on it... You widened your eyes at practically seing you there, blushing crinsom red when fireball carresed your chibi version cheek lovingly.

On their side was a sunglass as you curiously picked, a half scarred hand grabbed on yours as well before you locked your gaze with turquoise surprised eyes.

"Oh!" You retreaded your hand immediately with blushing cheeks. He retreaded his hand a bit to look around and get up hurriedly.

"Here." He offered his hand to help you up, he lifted you up and you got chest to chest with him as he admired you "We wouldn't want any other person to see us."

"I-I sure." You nodded following him to a more secluded place, your chibis trailing after you both.

On a dark alley, you waited for him to say another word. Staring at his back expectantly...

"You arent dumb. You know already who I am and what do I look like-" he turned to you, shoving his hood down to show you his face, the most beautiful and handsome face you've been dying to see "Right? Dollface?"

Not mindful of your blush, you took one more step closer to him before hesitantly cupping his face with your good hand. Not noticing how he frowned at your sling, a quite too remorseful face.

"You're the most beautiful man I ever saw... You know how much I've been waiting to see you?" You almost gasped in your words as his face slightly soften on a charming smirk as he hold onto your wrist.

"So my idea worked on coming to the hospital... Would it be bad if I stole a kiss from my soulmate then?"

You blushed even harder before both of you turned your head at hearing your chibi version squeak as Dabi's chibi hugged it close and already stole a kiss from them.

"Well, the little shit did over there, so I guess I can"

Before you could even say something you felt half chapped and scarred lips on yours as you melted in his arms, almost like he had used his quirk to leave the atmosphere hot enough.

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 4

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Self Control

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned)

Word Count: 6,612 (thoughts, song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: After Charlie witnesses the looks between Dean and Y/N outside the school on Friday, she convinces Y/N they should go out for drinks. At the bar, Charlie and Y/N bond, as she opens up to Charlie about Dean but also her past. After several drinks, Y/N goes home drunk and gets a little help from a friend. The next day brings a little embarrassment, but also brings up feelings within Dean and Y/N, that they know they shouldn’t be feeling.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of reader’s ex, Talk of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of a physical incident against reader, Drunk reader, Embarrassment, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning), flirting, forbidden feelings

Music: Deeper in the Water by The Lone Bellow (playing in the background while Y/N is baking scene), Wherever I May Roam by Metallica (Dean and Y/N backyard scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your wonderful comments on this series so far! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it! This part is a little heavier, so please read the warnings. Please share your thoughts with me, I love hearing what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics​! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Y/N took off her red glasses, smiling as she looked at her students. She could see them all flicking their eyes up at the clock every now and then, wondering when the bell would ring. She found it amusing as she tried not to laugh. It was Friday and they couldn’t wait to get out of there and start their weekend fun. She couldn’t wait herself, hoping to have some time for herself, call her family and maybe go see a movie.

Unfortunately for her students, they still had some time before they could leave, using that time to take the notes for the criteria set for their book reports. She watched as they all scribbled in their notebooks hurriedly, wanting to get out as soon as the bell went off.

“Make sure it’s personal to you” she told them as they wrote. “Books have a way of really affecting us, so I want you guys to choose something that really had a big effect on you.”

Some of them mumbled an “okay” while others nodded.

Suddenly, the bell rang, and they all sprung up at the same time. It was like how smaller children got excited for ice-cream.

“Alright, don’t all head out at the same time! You’ll plow each other out of the way!” she laughed.

“Sorry, Miss Y/L/N” one student called out.

“Have a great weekend, guys!” she called out in return.

Y/N walked out of the room as well, following them down the hallway and out of the school building. She smiled as students were being picked up by their parents, getting on the bus home or their bikes and riding home. She spotted a parent of one of her students notice her, walking over to her.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the woman asked.

“Yes” Y/N smiled, offering her hand.

“Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you, I’m Carol. Amy’s mom” she said, shaking Y/N’s hand.

“Wonderful to meet you, too” Y/N agreed.

“I just wanted to come and introduce myself and welcome you” Carol said, a bright, peaceful smile on her face. “I know it’s already been a couple of weeks, but I hope you’re loving Lawrence.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m definitely warming up to life here.”

“Well, Amy’s really fond of you. English is already her favorite subject but she’s so happy to have someone like you teaching it” Carol complemented her.

Y/N beamed, her heart soaring. It was always great to hear when kids enjoyed a subject and the way you taught it.

“She’s a great student, so that definitely makes it easy” Y/N told her.

Carol blushed, delighted by the complement for her daughter. “Well, we better go. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” Y/N said. “It was great to meet you.”

As Carol walked away after saying goodbye, Y/N looked around as the crowds of children started to clear. She spotted Charlie and was about to walk over, when she noticed who she was talking to. Dean was leaning against his car, aviators on and laughing at something Charlie just said. Ben was sitting in the car, waiting for Dean. She didn’t realize that Charlie knew Dean too, but she really should’ve made the connection considering she knew Cas, and Cas knew Dean. She thought about going over there, but she didn’t want to interrupt them. Plus, after what happened the other night at dinner with him and Lisa, she wasn’t sure if she should go over there.

“Y/N!” she heard her redheaded friend call out and she knew she had to go over.

She smiled as she walked over, trying to prepare herself to be near Dean again. He looked so damn good in that moment, and she was finding it hard to look at him.

“Thanks to your car, I know you already know each other, so I don’t have to introduce you” Charlie laughed, as she nudged Y/N with her hand.

“Yeah.” Dean took his sunglasses off and Y/N saw that he was looking directly at her. She was suddenly nervous again.

Dean took her in, dressed in a black dress that hugged her body in just the right way. Her red glasses were tucked into the neckline of her dress, and he had a sudden urge to see her wearing them. Mind outta the gutter, man he thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“I didn’t realize you guys were friends” she said, as she stood in front of Charlie and Dean.

Charlie smiled as she looked at Dean. “Yeah, have been for years.”

“Charlie’s like the little sister I never wanted” Dean teased, smiling cheekily at her. Charlie punched him in the arm, and he laughed.

His gaze moved from her back to Y/N. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since the first time he met her, but even more so after what happened at her house.

Charlie noticed how Dean and Y/N were looking at each other and dropped her head, smiling without them seeing.

“I better go” he said, suddenly, putting his sunglasses back on. “Lisa finished work early and we’re going to Sid and Olivia’s for dinner.”

“Tell them I said hi” Y/N told him, trying not frown as she wished he had stayed longer.

“Sure thing” he nodded. He moved in to hug Charlie, kissing her head.

Y/N watched as Dean got into the car and drove off, the car roaring down the road. She turned to Charlie and her face dropped into a frown, when she saw her friend grinning at her.

“What?”

“You like him” Charlie stated.

Y/N stared at her in shock, before scoffing a laugh. “You’re insane.”

“On the contrary, I’m completely sane” Charlie countered. “And you denied it a little too quickly, so it has to be true.”

“Charlie…” Y/N trailed off, not knowing how to respond to that.

“I think we need to get a drink together” Charlie suggested. “We haven’t gotten a chance to hang out outside of work yet.”

Y/N grinned. “Sounds great.”

“Tonight?” Charlie asked.

“Name a time and place, and I’m there” Y/N responded quickly. She was excited to go out and see what Lawrence was like on a Friday night. She knew it wouldn’t be much for a small town, but she also knew she needed to know how the nightlife was here.

“Ditch the rental at home and I’ll pick you up” Charlie said, as she started to walk away. “I’ll be there at 7!”

“See you soon!” Y/N called out as they both made their way back in to collect their belongings, before they headed home.

When she got home, Y/N relaxed for a while before she needed to get ready. She freshened up and got dressed into black ripped skinny jeans and a dark mustard sweater. She put on her black heeled ankle boots, ran a straightener through her hair quickly to get the kinks of the school day out and applied light make-up. She picked up her black leather jacket and her bag, just in time when she heard two quick honks of a car horn. She picked up her keys and walked out, closing the door behind her. She walked down the porch steps and smiled at Charlie as she walked over, getting into the car.

Y/N and Charlie made their way to the town square, lined with shops and some restaurants. Deciding they were hungry too; they grabbed a quick bite to eat. Conversation over at the diner mainly consisted of work and minor things, because Y/N had a feeling Charlie wanted to talk about personal things over drinks. After they ate, they walked down the street and past a couple of dive bars, the loud music and chatter filtering out to the streets. She felt better knowing there was something going on in this town and that it wasn’t as sleepy as a place like Rhinebeck. Though Rhinebeck did have its own charms.

Y/N followed Charlie, arriving at the place where they sat at the bar. She and Charlie sat on the bar stools, the bartender immediately coming over to them.

“What can I get you, ladies?” he asked, smiling at them.

“Gin and tonic, please” Charlie replied, smiling back.

Y/N thought it over for a second before she replied. “A vodka martini.”

“Sure thing” he muttered before moving down the bar to mix the drinks.

Y/N and Charlie both took their jackets off, settling in. The bartender put their respective drinks in front of them and then went to serve other customers. Charlie picked up her glass and turned to Y/N.

“To surviving your first two weeks” she said, smiling.

“Well, thanks for making it easy for me to settle in” Y/N smiled back, clinking her glass against hers. “I really mean it. You and Cas have really helped me and supported me, so… thank you.”

“No need to thank” Charlie waved her off, taking a sip of her drink. “So… let’s get to the real reason we’re here…”

“Oh god” Y/N groaned.

“Oh yeah” Charlie smirked. “You like Dean.”

Y/N laughed a little to herself. She didn’t beat around the bush, this one.

“Yeah. I do” Y/N admitted, feeling slightly relieved to say it out loud. “At first, I really just thought it was a crush, something that would just go away after a couple of days. Then… then the butterflies stuck around and they’re not going away. Every time I see him… I just want to be near him. All the time. I know two weeks is way too soon to be feeling like this about someone I just met, but-” she explained but Charlie shook her head, cutting in.

“I don’t think the length of time matters to Oxytocin” Charlie advised her.

“I’m not quite at the love stage yet. In fact, I hope I never get there because that’s going to get me into trouble” Y/N countered.

“Which is unfortunate because I think you two would be adorable together” Charlie confessed, a guilty grin on her face.

“What?” Y/N scoffed, not quite believing what she just heard.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… the way he was looking at you, even just for a few seconds, I haven’t seen him like that in a really long time” Charlie said, a sad smile on her face.

“Oh god” Y/N groaned, her face dropping into her hands. “Charlie, what are you doing to me?!”

“I know, I know” Charlie shook her head, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t” Y/N shook her head, taking a large sip of her martini.

“I know, and I wasn’t telling you to go for it at all. I’m sorry” Charlie apologized, sipping her drink.

“It’s okay” Y/N reassured her, patting her back. Once they had both calmed down, Y/N turned to her friend. “Oh, they came over for dinner on Monday. I wanted to thank Dean about the car, and he came over with Lisa.”

“Really?” Charlie asked, a little shocked. “She actually came over?”

Y/N nodded. “Seemed like she didn’t want to be there, though. I mean, she was okay, she didn’t say much, which I don’t really care about, but she was kind of cold with Dean.”

Y/N looked at Charlie and saw that she looked like she wanted to say something but was contemplating whether she should or not.

“Okay, look…” Charlie started, trying to find her next words carefully. “I’m just going to tell you this, and it’s in no way saying that you have to do something, I just think you need to know, now that you’ve brought this up.”

“Okay…” Y/N didn’t know where she was going with this, but she listened anyway.

“Dean and Lisa have never been good for each other. They had a one-night thing, it was great for both of them, but that’s where it should’ve ended. Things were fine at the start, but once they got past the one-year mark, is when things started turning. Two years in, it got pretty bad. I mean, Dean doesn’t know for sure… but he thinks that she might’ve slept with someone else when she went home to visit her family. Things haven’t been right for a while now. Between not trusting her and them fighting at the drop of a hat all the time… it should’ve ended a year ago” Charlie explained.

“Wow” Y/N sighed, shaking her head.

“The only time we see him happy is when he’s at work or when he’s with us and she’s not around. Hell, I don’t particularly think she likes any of us, and we’ve tried really hard to include her. She never really wanted to do anything with us and would only come out with Dean if she wanted to prove things were okay. After a while, we just stopped trying to get her to like us” Charlie went on.

Y/N couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Charlie or Cas. “Seriously?”

Charlie nodded, a glint of anger behind her eyes. “She’s never encouraged him with the business, she’s always put him down for his choice in friends. She claims it’s to make him see that he’s better than them, but she’s just forcing him to think things he never would.”

There was a long silence between them, as Y/N processed everything Charlie just told her. She and Charlie were only just starting to become friends, so she could’ve easily said she didn’t believe her. She did, though. Charlie looked genuinely hurt, which meant everything was true.

“Fuck” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah” Charlie said, raising her eyebrows. “Dean’s generally a happy, care-free guy but for over a year now, I know he’s been hurting. He just hides it behind his larger than life personality. I just want to see him as his old self again. He thinks that if he stays, maybe things will just fix themselves, but they won’t. They haven’t yet and they certainly won’t the longer he stays in this relationship.”

“Wow” Y/N sighed again.

“So, that’s all I want to say” Charlie finished. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it, but I want you know the reality, and maybe not hate yourself so much for having the thoughts you’ve been having.”

Y/N nodded. Hearing it made her feel slightly better, but worse now that she knew what he was going through.

Another silence fell between them as Y/N thought about everything Charlie said.

“It scares me” Y/N looked down into her glass, shaking her head. “Feeling something so quickly for someone I just met. I’ve never felt a connection like this before. Not even with Ethan.”

“Ethan?” Charlie asked, confusion written on her face.

Y/N bit her lip. She didn’t realize she had never mentioned him to Charlie. “My ex.”

Charlie nodded slowly, immediately understanding. “I’m guessing things didn’t end well if you’re so far away from New York.”

“No, they did not” Y/N muttered after a sip of her drink. “He uh… he was really controlling of me. He’d tell me how I shouldn’t dress up and be too revealing, but then somehow… somehow, he’d tell me that I didn’t try hard enough either, that I wasn’t attractive enough. My job wasn’t good enough. I… I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t… I didn’t think it was something that was a problem, no matter how much anyone told me it was. I thought he’d… he’d say the things he did because he just wanted me to be better, but it was to stroke his own ego.”

“Scumbag” Charlie muttered; her face morphed into anger.

“Yeah” Y/N laughed, bitterly. “I couldn’t see it until the night he hurt me. I thought he was doing those things because he loved me, but love isn’t making a person hate themselves to make yourself feel better.”

“You said he hurt you…” Charlie trailed off, worried that she’d uncover feelings that Y/N had buried.

“Just once, he pushed me and I ended up in hospital with a concussion” Y/N said, her words choking around the lump in her throat. “Once I was better, my parents helped me get my things out of his apartment. It wasn’t an easy transition; I kept seeing him everywhere. I tried to get a restraining order against him, but his family had money and probably paid someone off, so he never got charged with one. He eventually left with his new girlfriend, but that didn’t mean it got better for me. It took some time, a year of therapy before I left, but I realized that I wasn’t going to let anyone do that to me ever again. That place… I didn’t want to leave my family but there was too much of him there. So… now I’m here.”

“I’m glad you are. Y/N, you’re… shit, you’re fucking amazing and I hate that someone made you feel like you’re not” Charlie said, quietly, her eyes watery.

“I really know how to tell a story, huh?” Y/N jested, trying to lighten the mood again, as she blinked to keep her tears from falling.

“I’m glad you told me, that you could trust me with that” Charlie said, a small, empathetic smile playing at her lips.

“I’m sorry” Y/N shook her head, feeling awful at her sudden confession of her past. “I shouldn’t have brought it up when we’re here to have a good time.”

Charlie took her hand in hers. “No, please don’t apologize. I really am glad that you did. I’m so glad I know you.”

Y/N smiled at her. She knew Charlie would hear the story and wouldn’t pity her but be there for her and listen. She held Charlie’s hand, squeezing it. She was glad to have met the woman sitting in front of her.

“You know… Dean would never do that to you, right? To anyone” Charlie told her.

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. “I know. I don’t know how I know, but I just see him, and I know that he’d never do that.”

“And that’s what scares you, right? That he’d never do that, that you feel so much and that he’s with someone else?” Charlie asked.

Y/N looked at her and didn’t say anything. Her face said it all. Charlie just nodded, before taking the last sip of her drink.

“I need another drink” Y/N said with a small chuckle, having finished her martini.

Charlie just smiled as she flagged down the bartender.

Another drink turned into two more after that. Y/N understood what Charlie said clearly, but that didn’t mean she was going to take the words and run with them. Why risk everything on what could just be a crush? She was wrong, 2 weeks was absolutely a ridiculous amount of time to suddenly fall for someone. She was overthinking things.

She was thankful when Charlie dropped the subject of Dean, having said what she needed to about how she felt towards Lisa, knowing Y/N would interpret everything the way she needed to. She also felt a huge pressure lift off her chest when she told Charlie about what happened with Ethan. It had been a year since the break-up and since she had started therapy. Her last session before she left had left her feeling relieved. Coming to Lawrence had been the best decision, even with her situation with Dean. Charlie was amazing and was glad she spoke up and told someone who she really trusted.

They eventually moved onto talking Charlie and Dorothy and Y/N found the redhead incredibly cute in that moment, as she gushed about her girlfriend.

Y/N knew that once the fourth martini went down, she had to get home. She was well and truly drunk and all she wanted to do was sleep it off. Just forget them ever talking about Dean.

As they left the bar, she stumbled slightly as they walked down the road. She needed to get an Uber and be alone in her thoughts now, her mind reeling with their conversation but vodka, too.

“Are you sure I can’t take you home?” Charlie asked, concern all over her face.

Y/N chuckled as she shook her head. “I’m sure, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay” Charlie agreed, reluctantly. “Message me as soon as you get home.”

An Uber quickly pulled up a few moments after she called it, and Y/N got in. She smiled and waved at Charlie. “Thanks for tonight.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you Monday” Charlie smiled.

Y/N leaned back against the seat, looking out the window. She really didn’t need man drama while she settled into a new town. She had had enough of it back home in her previous relationship, that one almost ruining her mental state. She was still recovering, even if had been a year since they broke up. Memories of him and imagining him around town, even after he left, were what made her decide to leave too. The last thing she needed was to be with someone. That being said, someone could argue with her that it was time to move on and find something better, something more meaningful.

Well, that something would have to come from somewhere else because it sure as hell wasn’t going to come from Dean. As much as she was attracted to him, he was with someone. No matter how unhappy the relationship was. Her mind floated to something Charlie told her. That it was possible that Lisa cheated on Dean.

He was sweet and caring, nurturing and compassionate. Gorgeous as hell and insanely hilarious. Who could ever cheat on him? People had their flaws, but that didn’t mean you give up on a person. His flaws couldn’t be as bad as her ex’s.

The Uber pulled up outside her house. Y/N steadied herself as much as she could as she got out. The car pulling up caught the attention of Dean, however, as he was sitting on the front porch, beer in hand. He watched as Y/N stumbled up the stairs of her porch and tried to open the door to her house.

Dean put his beer down on the stoop and got up from the stairs, walking across the street. As he walked up her porch stairs, Y/N turned around and smiled at him, indicating to Dean that she was quite drunk.

“Dean” she slurred happily, her eyes sparkling.

He tried not to laugh as he walked over to her. “Doing okay there, sweetheart?”

“Sure am” she giggled in her drunken state. “Just trying to get my door open.”

Dean watched as she tried to put the key in but kept missing the keyhole. He stepped forward and took the key from her hand, putting it into the lock and opening the door with ease.

“Thanks” she beamed.

As she went to walk through the threshold, her foot caught the edge and she stumbled. With quick reflexes, Dean caught her arm and pulled her into his body.

“Whoa, Y/N” he exclaimed, cradling her to his body.

She let out a loud cackling laugh, completely unaware of her near injury. Knowing that this wasn’t going to end well if she kept at it by herself, Dean bent down and lifted her legs up as he cradled her body. He lifted her into his arms as he carried her into the house, trying not to dwell on how good she felt in his arms.

“Ooh” she gasped, as her arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re very strong, Dean.”

She couldn’t help but lean her head on his shoulder, the intoxicating scent of cologne driving her crazy.

He ignored that as he walked down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Dean gulped as he looked around, the realization that he shouldn’t be standing in her bedroom hitting him suddenly. He quickly walked to the bed and laid her down, watching her eyes flutter as the alcohol she had consumed took control.

“Have to… have to text Charlie” she mumbled, the alcohol making her sleepy.

Ah, so that’s who she went out with he thought as he took off her shoes and pulled the covers over her.

He picked up her bag and fished around quickly, finding her phone. He didn’t look in, knowing that a woman’s handbag had things in there he had no business seeing.

Y/N unlocked her phone and handed it to him, flinging her head back to her pillow.

Dean bit back a laugh as he messaged Charlie as Y/N.

Hey, made it home safe. Thanks for tonight.

He added that in because if she was this drunk, then clearly she had a great time with his friend. Who wouldn’t?

Dean placed her phone on the nightstand and was about to walk away when he heard her stir.

“You’re really sweet, Dean” she mumbled, only one eye looking up at him as her face was smooshed to her pillow. “Why can’t all guys be like you?”

Dean shook his head. She was really out of it. “I wouldn’t say that, Y/N. I’m not someone to be compared to.”

“I think you are” she said, a soft smile on her face. “I think you’re something special, Dean Winchester.”

A smile spread on his face, but it dropped quickly. She wouldn’t remember saying it in the morning, so it was best not to dwell on it.

“Goodnight, Y/N” he whispered.

“I could get used to you in my life” she whispered, as she drifted off into slumber.

Dean felt a pang in his heart at her words. She may have been drunk, but it had been a while since someone had something like that to him. He couldn’t let her words affect him like that, though. He was with someone else and he needed to make that work again.

Dean slowly walked out of her room and back down the hall. He took out his wallet and took out the Advil tablets he kept in there, leaving them by her coffee machine. He picked up a napkin and quickly scribbled a note on it, before leaving her house. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember all of that in the morning and they could avoid the awkwardness that would follow.

The sunlight from the windows streamed into Y/N’s room. It warmed the covers she was wrapped in, causing her to stir. She groaned as she lifted her head, feeling the heaviness of last night’s drinking session with Charlie. She sat in bed as she tried to recall what happened last night. Her eyes widened as she remembered, everything quickly rushing to her head.

Dean had helped her into the house. Dean had most likely helped her into bed. Dean had been in her bedroom.

She couldn’t remember if any words had been exchanged. Had she said anything that would cause her embarrassment?

Y/N slowly got out of bed and picked up her robe, wrapping it around herself. She picked up her phone and walked out of her bedroom, into the kitchen, as she needed coffee as soon as humanly possible. She looked at the time. It was 10 in the morning. She had really been knocked out last night. She walked over to her coffee machine and was about to start filling it, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

A slip of Advil tablets and a note laid next to the machine. She smiled as she picked up the note, scribbled in all-caps.

HOPE YOUR HEAD DOESN’T HATE YOU TOO MUCH IN THE MORNING.

-D

Her stomach flipped as she bit her lip, reading over the note again. She liked his handwriting. It said so much about him.

She quickly took the Advil before she made her coffee and breakfast, two eggs and a little bacon. You had to have bacon on a Saturday morning, especially if you were hungover. That’s what she felt.

The rest of her afternoon consisted of paying bills and doing some work for her classes, once her head was feeling slightly better. She made a mental note to actually go see a movie next week with Charlie. Maybe they could invite Cas’s girlfriend along, as she was dying to meet Meg. After doing her work for the day, she decided to do a little baking. Saturday afternoon baking was something she did often back home, and she wanted to keep that going here in her new house.

Y/N decided on making an apple pie, one of her favorites. As she got all the ingredients together, she decided to make two, wanting to take one over to Dean as a thank you for helping her last night. Hopefully he liked pie. She turned on one of her softer playlists, as cooking or baking needed some kind of music in the background and something soft was good for her head right now.

An hour later as The Lone Bellow graced her ears, she took out two beautifully golden pies from the oven. She put them on the kitchen bench and went to shower, having still been in the same clothes from last night.

Once she was freshened up, she walked out in dark blue skinny jeans, a white tank top and a pink and white plaid shirt over the top. She took a red and white checked cloth and wrapped it around one of the pies, making sure it stayed warm as she walked over. Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she shrugged on a light jacket to shield her from the light breeze. It was starting to get colder and she wondered what winter would be like here.

Y/N left her house and walked over to Dean and Lisa’s, pie in hand. She was a little nervous and hoped that Lisa wouldn’t be there, so that she could talk to Dean alone. She was slightly ashamed of herself; he was technically a parent of a child she was teaching, and he saw her drunk. She really hated herself for it and hoped that they could talk and come to an understanding.

She quickly walked up the porch steps and rang their doorbell. She waited patiently for a few seconds, before she rang the bell again. Again, she didn’t hear anyone coming for the door. Even the Impala wasn’t in the driveway. They had probably gone out as a family. As she walked back down the porch steps, she heard some music and clinking sounds coming from the back of the house. Wondering if maybe Dean was at home, she walked around the corner to their backyard, the sounds of Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam becoming louder as she got closer. The sight that greeted her caused her eyes to widen and her heart to beat wildly in her chest.

Dean was leaning over the engine of his car with the hood open. He was wearing blue jeans that hung on his hips in the most perfect way, highlighting his cute butt. His dark grey t-shirt defined his physique, the material stretching across his chest and biceps. His arms and face were covered in grease from the car, but that only added to the hotness he was showing at that point. When he turned around and noticed her, he smirked which just killed her dead on the spot.

“Hey, I didn’t hear ya coming out here” he said, walking over to her, turning the music down a little as he walked past his little radio.

She blinked a few times, trying to get out of the trance he put her in. “I rang the bell a few times but then I heard you out here.”

He nodded as he jerked his head towards the car. “Yeah, I gotta work on her from time to time, make sure she’s still runnin’ properly.”

“Well, she’s gorgeous. I wouldn’t want her to fade away either, if I was you” she smiled.

He smirked as he looked at his priced possession. “Dad would tear me a new one if I ever did.”

She laughed a little before a silence fell between them, only the sounds of the song being heard.

And the road becomes my bride And the road becomes my bride I have stripped of all but pride So in her I do confide And she keeps me satisfied Gives me all I need And with dust in throat I crave Only knowledge will I save To the game you stay a slave

Now was as good a time as to bring up what she needed to.

“Dean, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me last night” she started but he waved her off.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart” he smiled.

He really had to stop calling her that if she was ever going to get anywhere with this. If only he knew what that did to her.

“I know it might’ve felt like just a nice gesture, and it was, but… Dean, I’m really ashamed and I really, really hope you don’t see me differently now” she confessed.

Dean frowned, not sure what she meant. “Why would I do that?”

“It’s just that… I’m a teacher, and I’m supposed to be a certain way. You’re practically a parent to a child in my class, and you shouldn’t be seeing me like that, like how I was last night-” she rambled but the feel of his hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“Y/N, it’s really okay. I’d never tell anyone about that. I mean, shit. You gotta let loose once and a while, too. Maybe someone else would judge you for that, but I never would” he told her, his voice calming her.

“But-” Dean shook his head when she protested.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s fine. That’s just between you and me. Okay?” he reassured her.

She sighed in relief. “Okay.”

“Good” he winked at her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down, trying not to think about that wink.

“It’s just… I didn’t say anything stupid to you, did I? If I did, I’m so sorry” she apologized.

Dean remembered everything she said last night. It had kept him up for an hour and a half as her words circled around in his thoughts.

“Nope” he lied. “Though you did mutter something about finding Christopher Walken sexy.”

Y/N eyes widened. “What?!”

Dean guffawed loudly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, you should see your face.”

She reached up and smacked his arm, causing a small “ah” to leave his lips but he kept on laughing, as he rubbed his arm.

“You’re such an ass” she shook her head, trying not to smile at the sound of his laugh.

His laughter died down as he composed himself. “That was too easy.”

“I don’t think you deserve this pie now” she gestured to the wrapped-up dish in her hands.

His eyes lit up as he looked between her and what was in her hand. “Pie? You-you made me a pie?”

“Yeah, I did, as a thank you for last night but I don’t think I want to give it to you now” she pretended to be upset, riling him up.

“Y/N…” he said, looking her right in the eyes. “Please.”

Jesus. She was putty in his hands. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t do this with him. In that moment, all she could do was hand over the pie with a polite smile. She couldn’t let him think that she was wanted to keep going on this banter of theirs. That was dangerous and she wouldn’t be that person.

She quickly handed it over. “Since you asked so nice.”

His eyes and smile grew brighter, as he giddily lifted one corner of the cloth and smelt the cinnamon and apple.

His eyes rolled back as he moaned lightly. “Damn, that smells amazing. Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome” she said, laughing slightly at his reaction. “I take it you like pie.”

“Like?” he scoffed. “More like obsessed.”

“Good to know” she giggled as she watched him take another whiff. “I better go.”

“Oh, before I forget. Your car should be ready on Wednesday” he told her.

She smiled with a sigh of relief. “Amazing, thank you.”

“So, I’ll see you at the shop on Wednesday” he said, his thumbs rubbing over the cloth around the pie. He was itching to dig into it.

“Yeah” she nodded. “Bye, Dean.”

“Bye. Thanks again” he lifted the pie as he thanked her.

Y/N smiled as she walked away, rounding the corner and disappearing.

As soon as she was gone, Dean walked into the house and put the pie on the kitchen counter. He washed his hands and wiped them down, his mouth salivating as the delicious scent of the pie wafted through the kitchen. He opened a drawer and took out a fork, unfolding the cloth from around the pie dish. He licked his lips he looked down at it, stabbing his fork in and digging up a big bite. He blew on it and shoved it into his mouth. The flavors exploded as he closed his eyes in delight.

“Fuck, that’s good” he mumbled to himself as he swallowed down the mouthful.

It had to be the best pie he had ever had, not including his mother’s because that wasn’t a fair fight. Did Y/N really have to be so perfect that she made an amazing pie, too? How the hell was he supposed to stay away from her if she did things like this?

You just have to he thought as he wrapped the pie up again, for later. You can’t keep doing what you’re doing with her.

If this was ever going to remain friendly, then he had to stop turning on the charm, even if that was second nature to him. She made everything so easy. Things hadn’t been easy for him in a long time.

Between what she said in her drunken state to him (she may have been drunk, but she still said it. So, it had to be true, right?) and now bringing him this pie, it was getting harder to resist her. He knew was starting to feel something for her, even if it had only been a couple of weeks. He hadn’t felt like this since the first time he was with Lisa. Once they actually got together, the spark fizzled out quite quickly as comfortability took over. Now, even that wasn’t there.

Maybe it’s only meant to be comfortable. Maybe the spark isn’t meant to stay as you get comfortable with your partner. Though, that didn’t seem right to him. If you were really in love, then wouldn’t the spark stick around?

He had never been more confused about what to do, but he knew what the right thing was. It was to stick it out with Lisa, and that’s what he needed to do.

No matter how much he thought about Y/N.

As Y/N walked towards her house, her smiled dropped. What happened back there wasn’t just a friendly neighborhood chat. That was more. Much more. That was something two people did when they’re getting to know each other as more than friends. That was banter and flirting and messing around with each other with silly jokes. There were looks that made her tingle all over, and polite words that comforted her.

He made everything so easy. What she was beginning to feel for him was so much more than what she had felt before. This feeling wasn’t even there the first time she met Ethan. She knew she was fooling herself when she said this was just a little crush.

As she entered her house, Y/N was determined.

Dean Winchester was not going to have an effect on her.

He just wasn’t.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @akshi8278​ @hobby27​ @michellethetvaddict​ @spngirl05​ @kyjey​ @halesandy​ @440mxs-wife​ @stoneyggirl​ @deanswaywardgirl​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @redbarn1995​ @marianita195​ @babypink224221​ @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester​ @perpetualabsurdity​

[dudeandduchess]

Can I pretty please have Ran telling Kyo that she has a boyfriend at daycare or something like that? So Kyo can freak out his little princess is growing up too fast 😂 thanks bby

Thank you for the request, bby!!! Hope you like it. This might be a little crack-y, since I think that Kyō’s the fun parent who would do all these things. 😂

Also, Yuu belongs to @biznichwrites. I’m only borrowing him for this one, since we always pair him and Ran together in our jam sessions.

*** 

Kyōjurō (x F!S/O): Ran’s Boyfriend (Fluff, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

“Papa, can we listen to your songs?” Kyōjurō looked up at his daughter from the rearview mirror, quirking an eyebrow at her before reaching over to lower the volume to the speakers— which was blaring out another one of the nursery rhymes that his wife had added to their ‘For Ran’ playlist.

He had to admit that the nursery rhymes were getting a bit too repetitive— and that it was starting to drive him crazy, since he always found himself humming them during his breaks, and sometimes even during his classes.

So, he figured that letting Ran get her way wouldn’t hurt. After all, it wasn’t the first time that she would be hearing his playlist.

And that was how he found himself quickly changing the playlist when he stopped at the next stop light, pressing shuffle on his phone and almost tossing it in the empty passenger seat— since his wife had to go to take the other car to go to her own workplace.

Kyōjurō was just tasked to take Ran with him since the academy also offered a free daycare service for the teachers’ kids. It was extremely convenient, and it also allowed him to spend so much more time with his little princess.

As soon as the beat dropped for the first song, he heard his daughter’s telltale attempts at beatboxing. She had seen it while they were watching a western movie a month ago, and she had begun trying to go along with his rap songs— merely by popping her lips and clicking her tongue; but it was such an adorable attempt.

“Glasses, papa! Glasses!” The young man chuckled at that, looking in the rearview mirror once more to see Ran stretching her tiny hands out and making grabby gestures at him.

He didn’t even have to ask what she meant, since he knew all too well what she had been asking for. So, without looking away from the road, he reached down to the center console to grab his wife’s sunglasses; before reaching back and handing it to his daughter.

Immediately, Ran grabbed the glasses from her father’s hand, and slid back into her seat with the seatbelts holding her snugly in place. And before the next song could even begin, she already slipped the oversized glasses onto her cute face and had also begun popping her lips to the beat of Saweetie’s ‘My Type’.

Deciding to join in on his daughter’s fun, Kyōjurō grabbed his own pair of sunglasses from the overhead glasses compartment and slipped them on; singing to the song in a softly accented English all the while, with a bright grin on his lips— no less.

It was just a shame that their trip only lasted a couple more minutes since— before Ran knew it— they were already pulling up in the school’s parking lot. She didn’t take her sunglasses off yet, however, and just watched as her father turned the car engine off and went to the back to unbuckle her from her seat.

And, like clockwork, she handed him his bag— which had been next to her— before taking the hand that he’d held out to help her from the car.

“Thank you, papa.” The little girl beamed up at Kyōjurō, making his chest tighten with the intensity of how adorable she was; especially with her mother’s sunglasses still on her face.

He returned the grin with one of his own, closing the car door with one hand and flipping his sunglasses up his head; all so he could see his little girl better. “You’re welcome, Ran-chan. How about a picture that we can send mama?”

“Okay!” If there was anything that Ran loved more than sweets and presents, it was getting pictures taken of her and being told that she was cute. So, asking her to pose for a couple of shots weren’t a hardship at all— with her even posing with adorable peace signs on either side of her.

However, before Kyōjurō could take another multitude of shots of his daughter, the sound of another child calling her name rang in the quiet morning air. Both father and daughter looked around the lot, only to see a little boy with black hair waving at Ran with one hand high up in the air— since his other hand was clasped tightly in his father’s hand.

“Hey, Tomioka. You’re later than usual,” Kyōjurō greeted his co-teacher with a grin, locking his phone and pocketing it; before walking over to Ran and placing a hand on her head.

Giyuu’s lips twitched at that, as he nodded idly. “My wife and I woke up late.”

“Ohhhh, long night, huh,” The blond man wiggled his eyebrows at that, to which Giyuu only rolled his eyes. “This one woke up real late too-” He added, and looked down at Ran, only to see her bolt out from under his hand and wrap her arms around Giyuu’s son’s arm.

“Yuu-kun!” The little Rengoku chimed happily, before dragging the boy out of his father’s grip. “Papa! Papa! This is Yuu-kun.”

Kyōjurō grinned heartily at that, feeling so proud of his daughter for having made a friend in daycare. “That’s great, Ran-chan. Is he your friend?”

“No,” Ran answered brightly; arm still wrapped around Yuu’s. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Instantly, the smile fell from Kyōjurō’s face, as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He even looked up at Giyuu— who only shrugged idly at him; showing that he had known all along about their kids being in a ‘relationship’.

He was a little dumbstruck for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what exactly Ran had said— only to have his brain keep churning out the same error messages. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his four-year-old already had a boyfriend.

“Excuse me? You’re too young to have a boyfriend, young lady,” was all he could say before the first bell rang— signaling that classes were about to start in a few minutes.

“But mama said so, papa! She said I could have Yuu-kun as my boyfriend!”

Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to call his wife then and there, and ask her why she had allowed their little girl to date already. His head was already hurting just from thinking about it.

“No, no,” The Rengoku patriarch shook his head— mildly in disbelief, and partly in defiance— “No. No boyfriends until you’re forty.”

“How many sleeps is that?” Ran asked, completely confused at the big number.

“A lot,” Kyōjurō muttered, as he held his hand out for his little girl to take. “We’ll talk about this later with mama— and grandpa.”

He just hoped that Shinjurō would be able to give him some advice on how to deal with Ran already liking boys. After all, it was his turn to host their monthly family dinners.

Thankfully, Ran unlatched herself from Yuu without much of a fuss on her side. But it was evident on the little boy’s face that he was upset at Ran leaving him behind.

“Will uncle Sen be at grandpa’s?”

“Only if you say that you’re breaking up with your boyfriend.” Kyōjurō baited with a sigh, then turned to Giyuu and lifted a hand up in goodbye. “I’ll see you later, Tomioka… and Yuu.”

“Bye bye, Yuu-kun!”

“Bye bye, Ran-Ran! I love you!” Yuu answered with a sweet smile, which had Kyōjurō’s expression falling as he scooped Ran up in one arm and crossed the parking lot as best as he could.

Only to silently curse his luck, since he remembered that Ran and Yuu would be in daycare all day. So his efforts had been all for naught.

[stardancerluv]

New Beginnings

Part 6

Summary: Reader’s parents show up unexpectedly.

Notes: Reader and Bill have consensual sex.

You had gone to the park while the repairmen came to fix your air conditioning. Crossing your ankle over the other as you sat under the oak, the anklet twinkled in the sunlight. You reached down and let your fingers gently play with it. The pool, that room, it all made you smile.

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, making you jump a little. It was a very long week since returning from your weekend away. You had been apart except for phone calls at night. You were on the cusp of starting your summer job, the one class he was teaching for the summer session had started.

You grabbed your phone.

Repairman: AC is fixed. Emergency call. Sending bill to your landlord.

You grimaced. You were ready to pay them now. Your landlord better not take forever to let you know how much you owed.

To Repairman: Thank you. You sent back. Good luck!

*****

You practically tore open your door and sighed, leaning heavily against it as the cold air greeted you. It was divine. You slipped off your summer dress off. In your bra and boy shorts, you messaged Bill.

To Bill: It’s fixed! I have cold air! You giggled in your excitement. To Bill: Come see me and not melt! 😘

Bill: 😂 Just grading my last assignment. I’ll be right over. 😘 Though I’m sure it’s still very 🥵 there.

To Bill: Good! I’ve missed you! 😘😘 Wait! You already gave them something that needed to be graded?”

Bill: It’s just an assessment. 😂They’ll live. Missed you too, honey.😘😘

******

By the time Bill arrived you were still in your bra and boy shorts but you also had wrapped a blanket around yourself. The AC was really cold or perhaps you were so used to being hot that this was almost too much. You couldn’t decide.

You heard your porch creak when Bill stepped on it. You ran over with the blanket and tore open the door. The wave of heat that hit you made you take a few steps back.

“Bill!” You squealed and moved closer again. Seeing him you realized just how much you had missed him. You soaked in his sunglasses, his sweat ruffled hair, his loose tie and his shirt that he had untucked. He closed the distance.

Holding you by your elbows, he walked you backwards into your apartment and kicked the door closed behind him. His hands drifted back down your arms before taking off his sunglasses to wipe off his face for a moment.

“Oh, this feels good.” He pointed to the blanket. “Umm.”

You shifted where you stood. “I got cold waiting for you.”

A smirk almost immediately curled his lips. “Well then.” His arms wrapped around you under the blanket. Just feeling his hands again was great and you dropped the blanket. “Let us both enjoy the air conditioning.”

“Yes.”

Somehow you both had made it down to the floor. Half on, half off you laid on your blanket as you wrapped your arms around him and the two of you kissed. It had felt like a lifetime ago.

You both began to remove your clothes.

His clothes and what had been yours ended up somewhere. You arched, clinging onto him as he entered you. The sight of him above you brought you even closer. It was exactly what you needed.

“Oh Bill.” You managed, before your lips met.

Soft moans poured from you as he moved in and out of you. It felt so wonderful. Easily he brought one of your legs around him. It brought him closer and deeper inside of you.

*****

“I suppose…” Bill chuckled later as he held you close. He pulled the blanket slightly over the two of you. “It can get a little chilly.”

“See,” You nudged him. “I wasn’t being silly.”

“You silly? Never.” He smiled down at you and you both shared a soft kiss. Your fingers entwined in his strands.

The two of you continued to kiss. The sensation of rubbing against your face reminded you of how good he made you. You lost yourself in the moment.

******

A sharp knock filled your silent living room. “Honey, are you there?” Your mom’s voice called out. Your dad’s voice was muffled. “There’s a strange car in your driveway.”

You both shared a look. “They didn’t tell me they were driving into town.” You whispered, your heart was racing. Was this really how your parents would meet Bill? Fear had stricken you. You stopped for a moment.

Bill wrapped his arms around you. You easily slumped into the comfort of them. It was exactly what you needed. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Do you want them to know, or am I here helping in some way?”

“If she had a boyfriend, she would have told us.”

You looked up at him and nodded. “I wish it would have been a better way, but yes.” You reached up and caressed his wiry beard.

Your dad’s voice was still muffled. “Honey?” Your mom called again. “Maybe we should go around back.”

“One moment, mom!” You called out. Desperate you pulled on your summer dress and threw the blanket on the sofa.

Looking back at Bill who had already retreated into the back of the house, you watched as he pulled on his clothes. Sighing, you looked and made sure there was no way any of what had just happened was evident.

Fluffing your hair, you opened the door. “Mom! Dad!” You said as brightly as you could. “What are you doing here?” You ushered them in.

You shared brief hugs. Your mom glanced at your dad before looking back at you. “Are you ok? You look flushed.” Concern crossed your mother’s face.

“I was...” Your backdoor clanged as it closed.

“Honey? Who was at the door?” Bill looked more together than when he had arrived. The thought almost made you smile.

“Bill, this is my mom and dad.” You offered an arm and he came to stand beside you. His own arm came and wrapped around you, it gave you strength.

“I told you that was her boyfriend’s car.” Your dad looked pleased with himself. He gave Bill a warm smile. “Hello, I’m the dad.” He offered his hand.

Bill shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

You could practically see gears in your mom’s head turning as her brow furrowed and she looked the two of you up and down.

“We have come to scoop you up for dinner.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “We felt horrible that the weekend got away from us and we couldn’t go to the fair as a family.”

You wondered what she was thinking. She kept looking the two of you over.

“It’s ok. Bill and I ended up having some time to go to the fair.”

“Oh well, that’s nice.” Your dad looked between you and your mom. “Why don’t we all grab some dinner. Bill, join us. I would love to break bread and get to know you better. My daughter hasn’t breathed a word.”

Bill smiled and nodded. “That would be great.”

“Finals had me…” Your voice wavered and your mom drew closer as you felt a sharp pang of worry.

You watched as your mom swallowed. “Tell me, are you indeed her boyfriend?” She looked Bill up and down.

Your dad rolled his eyes.

Bill didn’t waver where he stood. “I am, ma’am.”

“I hope you are not just saying that and see our daughter as a fling to have fun with over the summer break.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Mom.” You hissed. “Please.” His hand squeezed your hip.

“What? I am not about to break bread with someone who sees my daughter as an easy target.” Her eyes narrowed on Bill.

Your heart sank, hesitantly you looked up at Bill. His blue eyes were flames.

“She is a brilliant young lady, you raised an amazing person. I am honored that she even looks in my direction. I assure you, she is not some passing fancy.” You relaxed when you felt his hand rub your back.

“Well, thank you Bill. All right.” Your dad rubbed his hands. “Ok sweetheart, show Bill how to get to the restaurant.” He carefully went to your mom.

“I like the sound of that, I guess we can talk more over food.” She gave you both a look again before she let your dad walk her out the door.

When the door closed once again, you leaned against Bill. “I’m sorry.” You whispered as you felt his arms wrap around you.

“It’s all right, I was like that when Barbara’s sister’s fiancé put a move on Jean.” You could see the disgust cast a brief shadow on his face.

You nodded. “That was horrible.” Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his hair. “Would you like to drive the Mustang over?”

A smile spread across his face. “Of course.”

******

As he rolled into the parking spot, he took off his sunglasses and replaced them with his regular glasses.

You both leaned against each other on the armrest. “Bill, if she says anything else, I will stop her.” You chewed on your bottom lip.

“Seriously, don’t fret. I can only imagine how she must feel. I’m a little over twice your age.”

“You are the absolute best person who has ever entered my life.”

He smiled, cupping your cheek and drawing you close. “I feel exactly the same way.”

“I don’t think I can wait.”

“I don’t want to.” You replied easily back as you matched his fingers.

@thebeckyjolene @blondekel77 @mrskenobi19 @reiadan (thank you for all your feedback!)

[dannyphannypack]

DP/PJO Crossover

Hello losers and welcome back to Taylor Writes A Teaser and Later Deletes the Entire Thing Because She Decides She Doesn’t Like it but She Wants to Put the Teaser Somewhere Else Where Her Grimy Little Hands Can’t Reach it so the Teaser Isn’t Lost Forever to Time! The Series. Today I’ve got a prologue for my upcoming fic, The Phantom Recollection. Enjoy!

“Woah.”

Daniel Fenton, newly fifteen, stood outside the Washington Square Park in lower Manhattan with a cardboard box overflowing with weaponry. He stood in front of the park’s Roman triumphal arch, where two statues of George Washington stared down at him. Behind the president on either side were two other people Danny didn’t recognize.

Jasmine, Danny’s older sister by two years, came up behind him toting another cardboard box labelled ‘Samples.’ She nodded toward the eastern pier. “That’s George Washington as Commander-in-Chief, Accompanied by Fame and Valor.” Jazz recited the words as if reading straight out of a textbook. “And the other one is George Washington as President, Accompanied by Wisdom and Justice.”

“Ah, yes,” Danny said as he adjusted his box. Guns were heavy. “My four favorite people: Fame, Valor, Wisdom, and Justice. Love those guys.”

Jazz nudged him with her shoulder and continued through the arch, where a crowd of people were gathered around a large fountain with jets that spewed water 45 feet into the air. A few adults sat around the fountain with their feet in the water and kids ran across the surface in swimsuits and trunks. Danny watched as one kid walked a little too close to the fountain and got pummeled by falling water.

The perimeter of Washington Square was decorated in booths. While one half of the square was shaded by the surrounding trees, the other half was enduring the hot July sun. Some people had been smart enough to bring canopy tents. Others were already baking.

“There,” Jazz said, pointing. A single empty fold-up table on the other side of the square sat in the sun with a sign that read, “RESERVED — Fentons.” Danny used a hand to shade his eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it.

“I told you that you should’ve brought sunglasses,” Jazz said. Danny figured she was rolling her eyes underneath her own pair of aviators.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny huffed. “Let’s just go before I drop this Fenton-Tech all over the ground.”

A big guy in a bright orange neoprene HAZMAT suit ran into Danny from behind, almost making him fall over. Jack Fenton carried seven stacked cardboard boxes. “Whoops!” he shouted. “Didn’t see you there!”

Danny figured he couldn’t see anyone, anywhere, but a similarly-dressed woman in a bright blue suit came up behind him and urged him along. “Jack, I told you that we could just take a second trip.”

Beside Danny, Jazz hunched her shoulders like she thought she could hide in a turtle shell. “If anyone asks, I’m not related.”

Danny’s parents were … quirky, to say the least. Danny rarely saw them without their suits in public, and Danny even less so with his mom’s hood and red-tinted goggles. Underneath was a chin-length bob of red hair and deep blue eyes, almost purple in color. She was nothing compared to his dad, though, who was easily six feet seven and built like an MMA fighter (minus the rippling muscles). Huge. Stocky. Shaped vaguely like a box. He was difficult to miss. Even behind the boxes, people that walked past were giving him strange looks. Danny figured that was bad, since they were at a ghost convention.

“Not any ghost convention!” His dad had exclaimed, barely a week ago. “The Haunted America Conference in Alton, Illinois!”

“It’s not in Alton anymore, Jack,” His mom had sighed like they’d been over this three times already. “They had to move it due to popular demand.”

“Where is it, then?” Danny asked.

His mom had beamed. “Oh, Danny, you’re going to love this: New York City!”

And that’s how they’d ended up in America’s most populated city, carrying ghost weapons across a supposedly haunted park in the middle of July. Danny was pretty good at telling where ghosts were and where they weren’t, and there definitely wasn’t anybody here. The land had once been used as a mass burial ground during the yellow fever, but the spirits had all moved on since. If Danny had died during the yellow fever, he wouldn’t have stuck around either. Children running playfully over his unmarked corpse? No thanks.

Danny set his box at the foot of the table. His dad was trying to bend down without spilling the contents of his seven boxes everywhere, and his mom was fussing over him. “Don’t worry, Maddie, I got it!” his dad said, and he set the boxes on the pavement a little too roughly. The bottom box made a noise like breaking glass and crumpled underneath the weight. Ectoplasm began oozing out the sides.

“I’ve got the other samples,” Jazz drawled, setting down the box. “If you need me I’ll be by the fountain pretending that I don’t exist.” She shouldered her backpack and walked away.

“I’m just gonna go, uh, walk around,” Danny said.

His mom opened her mouth like she meant to tell him to stay there and help set up the booth, but she replaced the expression with a hesitant smile. “Go have fun. Be back by noon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Danny knew how much his mother liked physical reassurance, so he stood on his tip-toes and pecked her cheek. “Love you.”

She smiled. “Love you, too.”

Danny turned and started heading around the square, glancing at people’s ghostly booths without actually getting close enough to warrant a conversation. He didn’t get a chance to walk very far, though. While passing a section of the square that branched off into a sidewalk, an old lady in a black hood grabbed him by the hand and pulled him aside. Despite the temperature (and the outfit choice), her skin felt cold. Danny forced himself to remain calm. Not a ghost, he told himself. Still, the woman set him on edge. When she opened her mouth, she sounded like she was hissing. Between gasping breaths, she said,

“Three shall find the child of death

Who loses his mind with one gasping breath

The son of the sea god must attend

To repay the kindness of a forgotten friend

See that his memories are safely returned

Or the reign of the King will be overturned.”

Danny blinked and she was gone, melting into the shadows of a big elm tree. “Wait!” he shouted, but the old woman had disappeared.

A wild animal growled nearby, but it came from all sides and echoed like Danny was in a cave.

He shivered. Get it together, Fenton. You’re losing it, man.

Thinking about how characters in movies splashed their faces with cold water when they were upset, he turned and walked down the sidewalk in search of a restroom.

Jazz sat on the steps of the fountain. With her laptop balanced in her lap, she reached into her backpack and removed a flash drive from her key ring of flash drives. This one was marked by a little cartoon ghost painted in neon green nail polish. She inserted it and opened up the folder. More folders stared back at her. Ghost Psychology, Ghost Physiology, Ghost Physics, Ghost Theories, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost. Jazz pursed her lips. Maybe she should take the ‘Ghost’ out of all her folder titles. The nail polish ghost on her flash drive already told her what it was.

“Hey,” someone said from behind her, and she jumped. Pulling her computer screen down, Jazz turned and looked up at the girl who had spoken.

She might have been a bit younger than Danny, though Jazz couldn’t tell exactly. She had long, curly red hair and dozens of freckles that decorated her nose like tiny paint splatters. Her eyes were so green they practically glowed in the light of the sun, swirling with mirth and curiosity. She was wearing red running shorts and a white t-shirt, so she looked like she had just finished a jog. Jazz supposed that she might have; this was a park, not a year-round ghost convention.

“Hi,” Jazz replied, pushing up her sunglasses so that they rested on her head. She visibly relaxed.

The girl chuckled and sat down beside her. She began taking off her sneakers and socks. “Surprised to see a fellow redhead at the Haunted America Conference.”

Jazz looked up and observed the crowd. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before, but the people wandering about the square were a sea of black clothes and colorfully-dyed hair.

Jazz snorted and reopened her laptop. “That’s why you came over here?”

“No. I happened to see your computer screen.” She leaned in close for a better look. “Ghost Psychology, huh?”

Jazz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know it seems weird—”

“No, I love it!” The girl said. “Everybody else here is all, ‘Palmistry, Chakra, Tarot Readings.’ You’re asking the real questions. What do ghosts think about? That’s what I’m interested in.”

If anybody else had said that, Jazz would have assumed they were being condescending. This girl, though … she could tell that she was just curious. “You believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting her feet in the water and kicking them back and forth a bit. “Why not? Had this weird experience at the Hoover Dam last month. Not a ghost, I think, but—” she cut herself off and bit her lip, like she was trying to stop herself from retelling it. She raised her hand for Jazz to shake. “My name’s Rachel. Rachel Dare.”

Jazz shook it politely. “Jazz Fenton.”

“Fenton, huh?” Rachel looked like that name sounded familiar but she didn’t want to say anything about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Jazz said, preparing herself for the obligatory ‘I’m a Fenton’ speech. “Parents are Maddie and Jack Fenton, ghost hunters extraordinaire. Last year they saved Amity Park from being annihilated by the Ghost King, yadda yadda.

“They did what?” Rachel squeaked, but she sounded more amused than shocked. “Ghost King?”

Jazz mentally berated herself. Without thinking, she’d started spewing the information that everybody back in her home state wanted to know. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in New York, hundreds of miles away. Stupid.

Rachel must have saw Jazz wince, because she switched gears. “So, ghost hunters,” she said. “Your folks got a TV show?”

Jazz took a second to process the change in topic. She blinked once. Twice. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

“What?” Rachel yelled over Jazz’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Jazz giggled but calmed down. “Sorry. My parents having a TV show … I can’t imagine.”

“What do they do then?” she asked. “Ghost Tours?”

“Ghost—?” Jazz cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing again. “No, no, no, Rachel, you’ve got my family all wrong. Think, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “They shoot ghosts? How does that work?”

Jazz jabbed a finger behind her, where her parents had started on the box of weaponry. Her mom set the Fenton Bazooka down. Like anybody was gonna buy that.

Rachel gulped. “So I’m hoping you’re the ‘ask questions, shoot later’ one.”

Jazz nodded mutely and opened her Ghost Psychology folder. At the top was a folder labelled ‘Danny Phantom,’ but she scrolled past it to the general information. “My parents think that ghosts are inherently evil and have no thoughts of their own. They’re just a bad copy of their old human consciousness, wanting to get revenge on humans because they’re jealous that we’re alive or something. But they’re so much more than that. They have these—these ghostly obsessions.” She opened a Word document and began scrolling. “But they’re not evil obsessions. Sure, when they die, they can be like, ‘I’m going to make them pay.’ But usually it’s more of a gray area. Like, ‘I’m going to watch after my family,’ or ‘I’m never going to stop writing.’ What my parents don’t understand is that they’re not unary; they can think about other things. They aren’t limited to one state of mind.”

Rachel looked surprised at the sudden lecture, but she adjusted quickly. “Who is Skulker?”

“Oh.” Jazz paused and bit her lip. “He’s—he’s not the best.”

“What’s his obsession?”

“Hunting,” Jazz said, though she didn’t sound as excited as she had before.

“I’m guessing he’s not hunting for deer,” Rachel said, watching Jazz’s reaction. “Okay. Then … who is Danny Phantom? Why’s he got a folder to himself?”

Jazz’s eyes widened.

“Right. Another touchy subject.”

“No,” Jazz said, shaking her head. “No, he’s … he’s good. Great, even. I think he’s obsessed with protecting people.”

“Well, that’d good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Jazz exclaimed. “I mean, yeah, it’s really good.”

Rachel stared at her. “But … something’s wrong?”

Jazz exhaled slowly through her nose, considering what she should and should not say. “He’s just a little … too protective, I guess. Never thinks about himself. Always rushes in when he could get hurt.”

“Ghosts can get hurt?” Rachel asked.

“This one can.”

Rachel could tell that Jazz didn’t want to talk about it, but she was curious. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “What’s he like?”

Jazz smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Always saving the day. You know, everybody thanks my parents for the Ghost King thing, but it was really him. Our entire city was transported to a different dimension called the Ghost Zone. It’s where all ghosts live. The Ghost King had just woken up. People doubted his power. He was going to kill us all to set an example. Let everybody know that he was in charge.”

Jazz took a deep breath. “And then … well, Phantom couldn’t stand for that. He was already upset because … someone else got hurt. So he went up there by himself and beat him. He could’ve died.” Her eyes widened. “Well, not died, but he could’ve gotten hurt.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the fountain and watching the water splash against the surface. Some little kids ran by them, laughing. Rachel said, “You like this guy a lot, huh?”

That seemed to break Jazz out of her stupor. Her cheeks turned red. “Not romantically!” she shouted. “I care about him like a little brother. Not—” She put her face in her hands.

Rachel laughed and stood, shaking the water off her bare feet. “I’ve got to get going before my dad comes home for his lunch break and finds out that I’ve left the house. It was nice meeting you, Jazz.” She pointed at the laptop. “You keep that ghost science thing up. You never know. You might end up publishing it and becoming famous.”

“Your shoes,” Jazz said, grabbing the sneakers and holding them up to her. Her socks had been stuffed into the toes.

“Oh! Right.” She took them but didn’t bother putting them on; instead, she started walking up the steps and back into the square, barefoot. “And you keep that Phantom kid from doing anything stupid!” She added.

Jazz laughed. “I’ll try!” she shouted back.

Just like that, Rachel Dare was gone.

In hindsight, Danny should’ve known that he’d never get a break. Weird stuff had been happening to him since last year like clockwork. August: get ghost powers. September: fight ghosts. November: find out that a creepy old man has ghost powers, too. December: fight ghosts. On and on and on until now, watching people stumble through the gates of a sandy dog park behind the restroom he’d found. An old lady shuffled past him, screaming bloody murder. “Rabid dog!”

Danny turned back towards the dog park. That thing was no dog. Snarling angrily at a park ranger was a full-grown lion, 500 pounds at least. It snorted a small plume of red-orange fire. Danny blanched. Yeah, so maybe it wasn’t a lion.

Danny was still trying to process its more … interesting parts. From its back sprouted a black ram’s head, with big, curly ebony horns and a sneer almost as nasty as the lion’s. It, too, huffed, but only smoke came from its mouth. Thank god. Danny didn’t know if he could handle two fire-breathing heads. 

Then there was the matter of the tail. The golden fur grew in patches before tapering off into tough yellow and orange snake-skin. At the tail’s end was a full, honest-to-god python. As he watched, the snake looked up at Danny and flicked its tongue.

This was a ghost. It had to be a ghost, right? Sure, it didn’t glow like a ghost … and it didn’t float like a ghost … and it didn’t set off his ghost-sense like a ghost … but what else could it be? An animal experiment escapee from the Central Park Zoo? Danny seriously doubted that.

The park ranger pressed his back against the fence, which was a little too high for him to jump, and made a high-pitched whimpering sound. Danny shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it.

Danny glanced nervously at the security cameras attached to the public restroom and nestled between the trees. Okay. He had to get rid of it, but without ghost powers. How?

Looking around for anything he could use, Danny settled on rock and tossed it twice into the air to test its weight. Deciding that it would work, he shouted, “Hey, Alex the Lion!” and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the creature in the back of the head.

That got its attention. Turning away from the ranger, the lion growled and set the floor around the gate on fire. Danny surveyed the fence. He wondered if he could jump it or if he’d seriously have to run through flames to get inside. Danny didn’t like heat. It wasn’t his thing. If he channeled a little flight into the jump, would it be too noticeable?

He didn’t have to think about it for very long, though. A boy and a girl, apparently unconcerned with the security cameras, catapulted over the fence on the other side and somersaulted into a standing position, one holding a dagger and the other holding an entire sword.

A sword. This day was just getting weirder and weirder.

The girl kicked the guy in the back of the knee, causing him to fall. She pushed him toward the lion. “Mmm, look, yummy demigod!”

“Annabeth!” The guy spluttered, standing. Just in the nick of time, too. Their entrance had caught the creature’s attention. It lunged forward. The kid jumped out of the way.

Danny raised his eyebrows. The girl, Annabeth, had her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore jean shorts and a hazard orange t-shirt similar to Danny’s dad’s suit. The guy was wearing the same shirt, though he had a pair of black basketball shorts on instead. Together, they shared a matching gray streak of hair. He wondered if they’d dyed it together.

In the other corner, the park ranger fainted.

With nothing but sand and rocks to fuel it, the flames around the gate died, allowing Danny to walk in like a normal person. Unlike the other two, he’d rather not high-jump a fence with security cameras watching. Even in New York he needed to keep up appearances.

The creature rushed toward Annabeth and its snake head-of-a-tail wrapped around her arm, squeezing until she dropped her dagger with a pained yelp. She looked down at it and kicked it in the general direction of the other guy.

Okay, my turn, Danny thought. He grabbed another rock (this one sharper, yay!), stepped through the gate, and threw it. It cut a long gash through the ram’s cheek. The lion turned to face him.

Both of the strangers looked surprised to see him there, like they hadn’t noticed a fifteen-year-old kid standing by the front gates. Honestly, Danny was surprised that he was still there, too. He had seriously considered running away when he saw them jump the fence. He had thought, Great! Back to my vacation, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

Annabeth recovered quickly. With the lion-goat-snake-thing distracted, she ripped her arm free of the snake’s grip and tumbled away.

The lion head roared, shooting fire across the park at Danny. He rolled out of the way and stood, bouncing on his toes. What he would give to be able to fly right now.

The other guy stared at him.

“What?” Danny snapped.

“Your pants are on fire.”

Danny looked down. Sure enough, the hem of his jeans hadn’t been as lucky as the rest of him. Patting it out, he shouted, “Dude!”

And then the lion was on top of him.

Now, Danny had been in some pretty sticky situations. The lion had his arms pinned on either side of his head. Danny couldn’t help but flash back to another time, when a ghost panther had been on top of him in the same fashion. It wasn’t the same, but still. Two giant cats pinning him to the ground in a year? That was sad.

On one side of him was Annabeth, on the other, the guy. Annabeth pointed frantically to his right. His eyes flicked in the direction she was indicating. Ah, yes, the dagger! He’d never be able to grab it with the creature’s full attention on him, though.

“Percy,” Annabeth said in a harsh whisper. He didn’t seem to notice. With a stomp, Annabeth ground out, “Per-see!” and nodded her head toward the dagger. He opened his mouth like, Ah, hyped himself up by jumping up and down, and started running top speed with his sword held high above his head, screaming.

The lion gnashed its teeth like it was annoyed. The goat head bleated angrily. The snake hissed. In one swift motion, the creature lifted one of its massive paws and hit Percy across the stomach. He flew backward into the metal fence.

Fortunately for Danny, that was all the time he needed. With one arm free, he reached for the dagger, got a hold of it, and pushed it into the lion’s chest. He cringed, bracing himself for the five hundred pounds of lion-goat-snake-thing that was about to die on top of him. Instead, it began raining sand.

Danny opened his eyes, sat up, and immediately began gagging. “It got in my mouth!” he yelled, though it sounded more like, “It got in me mouf!”

Percy, who had been thrown into the fence and didn’t look much better than Danny, had the audacity to start laughing. Danny turned and glared at him, using his hands to brush lion-goat-snake dust off his tongue. He only succeeded in adding more sand from the ground to his mouth.

Annabeth held out her hand for Danny and helped him to stand. Percy cleared his throat, like, Hey, aren’t you gonna help me up, too? but Annabeth just looked Danny up and down with a puzzled expression. Her eyes were gray like a storm cloud. “Who are you?” she asked. It sounded like an accusation.

Danny was still spitting sand and monster dust all over the ground. “Danny,” he said between gagging. “Bleh.”

“First time?” Percy quipped, helping himself up by leaning heavily on the fence behind him. He winced and held his stomach.

“I’m Annabeth,” Annabeth said. She gestured flippantly at her friend. “That’s Percy. I’ve never seen you before. Where did you come from?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “You ever meet a tourist?”

Annabeth continued to stare at him. Shaking her head, she asked, “Where’s your parent?”

“Uh, parents? And they’re at Washington Square.”

“You have a stepparent?” Percy blurted.

“What?”

Percy changed gears. “You’re adopted?”

“What? No!”

Percy’s eyes widened. He muttered, “You’re like Rachel?”

“Who?” Danny and Annabeth asked in unison. For once he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“Look,” Danny said, brushing himself off. “This has been super fun, but I’ve got a ghost convention to get back to.” He turned on his heel and started stalking out of the dog park. What was up with them assuming he didn’t have parents? And people thought he was nuts.

“Wait!” Percy shouted. Danny paused mid-step. “Thank you.”

Danny considered that. He wasn’t supposed to be a hero in human form. It was dangerous. Even now, he was running through scenes in his head of these two stealing the security footage and putting him on YouTube or something. Highly unlikely, but anxiety twisted that in his head and made him more and more uncomfortable. He turned back around. “Look … don’t tell anybody about this, yeah?” Then, to disguise his nervousness, he said, “My parents would flip if they found out lion-goat-snake hybrids existed.”

“Chimera,” Annabeth said.

“Bless you,” said Percy.

“What? No! Percy, you of all people should know this. The Chimera is a Greek monster. Bellerophon shot it with the help of Pegasus. Do you listen to anything we tell you in camp?”

Percy shrugged noncommittally.

Annabeth fumed. “I—”

“You could come with us, you know,” Percy said, cutting Annabeth off. “To camp, I mean.”

Danny pretended like he was considering the offer. “Hmm, a camp with a Greek mythology class? No thanks.”

“It’s not a myth,” Percy said, rushing to get what he wanted to say out before Danny lost interest and left. “The Greek gods, I mean. They’re real. We could really use someone like you.”

Danny considered this. Right, so … crazy. They were crazy. If the Greek gods existed, why would there be a Ghost Zone? Didn’t spirits go to the Underworld in Greek mythology or something? But then again … what else could that lion-goat-snake thing be? It definitely wasn’t a ghost.

Danny shook his head. He had enough things to worry about. This was crossing into the Too Weird category. Turning, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta go throw rocks at some other monsters. See you around.”

He walked out the gates and down the sidewalk towards Washington Square, thinking, I could really go for a sandwich right now.

[largedenominationsplease]

Wish You Were Sober

Summary: The Pogues are growing up and following their dreams, which means it's time for JJ and Kiara to sort through some feelings. Loosely inspired by "Wish You Were Sober" by Conan Gray.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: This was originally posted on ao3, but I wanted to share here as well.

August is full of gold and light and sunsets and new beginnings. It’s exciting and revitalizing and hopeful. But at the end of this August, a deep blue shadow edged nearer and nearer, threatening to turn all Augusts deep and blue and dreary for the rest of history. They were all leaving.

After the chaos of the gold hunting summer, when John B and Sarah finally made it back from the Bahamas with the gold, the Pogues had made a solemn pact to stay in the Outer Banks together, and they took it very seriously. Then came graduation and talk of going to college. The constant, “What are you going to do with your life?” questions wore them down. John B, Sarah, and Pope took a gap year, but Pope’s parents had threatened his life if he changed his school plans, especially after he “won a scholarship” from the mysterious “Denmark Tanny Education Grant” - in other words, his secret savings account. Sarah started talking about becoming a social worker, while John B wouldn’t shut up about the police academy and honoring Sheriff Peterkin’s memory. Kiara also talked about her plans, the Peace Corps, or volunteering in Thailand, and though she made it sound like that was years down the road, everyone knew she was getting restless. So, as summer approached, the Pogues had had a serious meeting about the future, or as serious as you can be at eighteen-almost-nineteen. They absolved the pact to stay in the Outer Banks, but they kept strict communication rules: regular updates in the group chat, facetime sessions at least weekly, and frequent visits. And so plans were made; John B and Sarah were moving to Chapel Hill at the end of August so she could attend the University of North Carolina (John B had considered getting a degree in law enforcement, but had decided to work until he was old enough to apply for the police academy). Pope was headed off to Duke to study forensic pathology like he had always dreamed. Frequent jokes were cracked about them attending rival schools, but at least they’d live within thirty minutes of each other. Kiara’s plans involved a little more distance. She had decided to volunteer her way through Europe for a few months once the tourist season was over. She had one-way tickets booked for the middle of September, and she hadn’t mentioned her plans to return as of yet. JJ was the only one without any plans. It came as no surprise that he hadn’t graduated high school, he never attended. Instead, he got a job at a local auto shop his cousin owned. He was lucky they hired him, and though the pay wasn’t phenomenal, it was enough he could pay rent to John B and Uncle T and stay in the Chateau without tapping into his savings. He joked that you couldn’t pay him to leave the Outer Banks, though that felt like a lie. Especially now that summer was ending and these dreams were becoming a reality for everyone else. 

“One last kegger!” John B was saying. JJ tried not to wince at that word: last. 

“Pogues for life!” Kiara whooped, jumping up and threatening to flip the hammock she was sharing with JJ and Pope. 

Pope wrestled the half-finished beer from her hands. “I think you’ve had enough of that.”

Kiara dove across him clumsily, trying to recover the bottle. Almost-drunk Kie was more comfortable around Pope. After their kiss that one summer, things had gotten awkward fast as she realized she didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. They had fought hard to get their relationship back to the easy-going friendship it had been, but it hadn’t made a full recovery - unless one or both of them was drunk. 

“Easy tiger,” JJ said, pulling her back into her spot between himself and Pope. 

She gave him an odd look. “You’re not drunk.”

“No, I have work in the morning.”

“When did JJ become the most mature?” Sarah slurred. She really hadn’t had that many drinks, but then again she was a total lightweight. 

“What do you say, Oh Mature One?” John B shifted so he was looking directly at JJ. “Kegger tomorrow night at the Boneyard?”

“Hell, yeah!” JJ settled back into the hammock, not really thinking about the fact that his arm was still around Kiara’s waist.

The rest of the Pogues whooped in agreement, downing their drinks and reaching for more.

***

JJ woke up five full minutes before the alarm on his phone went off the next morning. Kiara’s feet were in his face and she was snoring softly, as she tended to do when drunk. The slight headache pulsing through his temples told him he had had more to drink than he should have despite going to bed before the rest of the group, which was probably why he didn’t remember Kie crashing in his bed. He threw a blanket across her and made his way to the bathroom. He could see Sarah and John B wrapped around each other in their room, and in the other room, Pope passed out on the pull-out. Just like old times, he thought with a pang of nostalgia.

As he got ready for work and made breakfast JJ found himself getting more excited about the party they’d have that evening, despite his initial apprehension. Though the Pogues were over at the Chateau almost every night this summer, they hadn’t had a real hang at the Boneyard in a while. Maybe one last summer hurrah really would lessen the sting of the Pogues parting ways.

JJ hadn’t bothered with being quiet that morning. Most of the Pogues were deep sleepers. Add alcohol to the mix and he doubted he’d wake anyone up, so it was a surprise when Kiara wandered bleary-eyed and half-asleep down the hall. “Look who decided to make an appearance!” JJ said.

“Shh,” Kie groaned. “No speaking, just coffee.”

JJ obediently handed over his mug of coffee and set about pouring a new one. Kiara hugged the cup close and sank to the floor, sitting conveniently in the exact center of the kitchen. She was wearing one of his sweatshirts - but she always stole all the guys’ clothes. 

“Jeez, Kiara, could you choose a more inconvenient spot, maybe?” She simply squinted up at him from the floor in response. “You’re in pretty bad shape, hope you don’t have work today.”

“Shit!” she cried. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

“I have to be at work at ten,” she groaned. “My dad’s gonna kill me if I show up late and hungover.”

“Need a ride over there?” JJ asked.

“It won’t make you late, will it?”

“‘Course not,” he lied.

“You’re the best!” she jumped up clumsily and kissed him on the cheek before stumbling her way back down the hall to freshen up. She was more or less ready within five minutes, opting to keep on JJ’s sweatshirt, paired with yesterday’s shorts. “How do I look?” she asked, shoving on sunglasses and reaching for a second cup of coffee.

“Hot.”

“Liar. Let’s go.”

They arrived at the Wreck, and JJ asked, as Kiara jumped out of the van, “When do you get off?”

“Four-thirty. Dad might make me stay longer to make up for showing up late, though.”

“I can’t get back here till five.”

“Okay, that’s cool. See you then! Thanks for the ride!” She downed the last of her coffee and chucked the travel mug into the back of the van through the window. She was still off-balance as she ran up to the door. JJ watched until she was inside. Today was going to go by so slowly, he could feel it. 

***

The day ended up dragging by for everyone. There was usually quite a bit of work at the auto shop, but today was abnormally slow. The same went for the Wreck; as they approached the end of tourist season, their business dropped considerably. When five o’clock finally rolled around, Kiara dropped everything and bolted. JJ was just pulling into the parking lot, followed closely by John B and Sarah on JJ’s bike. “Pope’s meeting us there a little later!” Sarah called. She raised an eyebrow as Kiara approached, noticing JJ’s sweatshirt. 

John B was trading off keys with JJ, “Sarah and I are going to pick up the kegs; meet you there?”

Despite the earliness, a few kids were milling around when the crew arrived, mostly Tourons. JJ and Kiara started a bonfire and kicked the party off with some of his cousin’s “cripple.” As it got later more and more people showed up, still mostly Tourons and other kids from the Cut, but a few Kooks made an appearance. Tensions still ran high between Kooks and Pogues, but if beer and weed were offered, they were pretty much willing to put aside their differences. The sun began to set, while the party began to heat up. Someone had brought a speaker and was blasting some obnoxious club mixes; people were dancing. 

Sarah made her way over to the fire where Kiara was beginning to relax thanks to the joint in her hand. She’d had a few drinks at this point and was pleasantly buzzed. She tried to take the joint from Kiara but was pushed away. “You puke when you’re crossfaded, Sar!” 

“I do not! Besides, I’m not even drunk.”

Kiara just laughed. Sarah plopped down next to her best friend and wrapped her arm around her. “I’m gonna miss you, Kie.”

“I’ll miss you, too. But don’t get emotional on me. Tonight we’re just having fun!” Kie put out her joint and threw it in the fire. Someone walking by handed the girls another drink. 

“So,” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows and tugged on the sleeve of Kie’s - JJ’s - sweatshirt. “You and JJ?”

“Me and JJ, what?”

“Did you hook up?” Tipsy Sarah was even blunter and to the point than sober Sarah. 

“God, no!” Kie couldn’t tell if the blood rushing to her face was due to the alcohol, the fire, or something else. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re wearing his clothes!”

“I’ve stolen clothes from all the guys, including your boyfriend! It doesn’t mean anything.”

Sarah hummed, half in disbelief. She decided not to fully change the subject. “Have you asked him yet?”

“Mm?” Kie hummed. “Oh… no. I don’t think he’ll want to go.” When Kie had realized JJ would be the only Pogue left in the Outer Banks this fall, she’d decided to ask him if he wanted to join her in Europe. She knew he had talked a big game about running away to Yucatan at sixteen, and perhaps he’d like to see a bit of the world. It’s not like they were strapped for cash, or he really needed his job at the auto shop. Even though they’d had to turn over most of the gold when John B and Sarah brought it back from the Bahamas, the crew had managed to hide enough of it away that they were pretty much set. The jobs they held were more for appearances, and so their parents didn’t ask too many questions. 

“Of course he’ll want to go! Even if he doesn’t, worst-case scenario is he says no, and you go alone like you were already planning.” Sarah watched as Kie started chewing on her lower lip like she did when she was anxious. “Unless you don’t want to go alone?”

Kiara didn’t want to admit it, but she really didn’t want to travel by herself. She could take care of herself just fine and she enjoyed her alone time, but she’d never left the country before, and the thought of being so far from home with no one familiar around was starting to worry her. Just a little bit. She downed another beer and reached for another joint, saying lightly, “No I’m totally fine!”

“She says as she gets totally smashed,” Sarah muttered under her breath. Kie had gotten up and dragged a random Touron girl to dance with her. 

Kiara’s tolerance was pretty high when it came to intoxicating substances, she rivaled JJ, though he wouldn’t admit it. By the time Sarah had joined her she was quite relaxed, so when she’d decided to dance she was well on her way to wasted, the combination of weed and beer making her a little dizzy. As she spun around with the pretty redhead in front of her, she caught sight of JJ standing way too close to a girl who was obviously there with her boyfriend. Kie fought the urge to roll her eyes until she noticed the boyfriend was equally fascinated with whatever bullshit JJ was spilling. She laughed to herself; leave it to JJ to flirt with a girl and get her boyfriend thrown in the mix, too. Somehow the thought of JJ flirting with someone else bothered her, but she chalked it up to the anxiety of asking him to go traveling with her. She called out for more beer. 

JJ was having an alright time. He’d drank much less than he normally did, and he hadn’t even touched the joint in his pocket. The party he had been so excited for was setting him on edge for a reason he couldn’t quite place. His mind kept wandering back to the ride over to the Boneyard, with Kiara clinging to his waist as he took the backroads on his bike... There was a cute Touron girl talking to him and he allowed himself to flirt back until she introduced him to her boyfriend. He was always wary of boyfriends, and for once he really didn’t want to start a fight, so it was surprising when the boyfriend started flirting back. Shit. JJ thought and tried to back the hell out of that situation, a situation he normally would have been dying to jump into. He was two seconds from bolting just to get away from them, when Pope stumbled up, crashing into him drunkenly. 

“Dude, you’re wasted!” JJ chuckled gratefully, pulling his less-than-sober friend away from the Tourons. “How much have you had to drink?” 

“Enough,” Pope laughed. He was a happy drunk, though JJ could tell he was a moment away from puking. He steered Pope towards the cooler full of non-alcoholic drinks and fished out a water bottle. “Drink all of it,” he demanded. 

Pope complied, first saying, “Kie’s dancing.” JJ had already noticed, of course. The pretty redheaded girl he didn’t recognize had her arms around Kie’s waist and they were passing drinks back and forth, neither of them anywhere near sober. Even drunk, Kie’s dancing was amazing. And she didn’t care who danced with her, she was always looking for a partner. Part of JJ wished he had been closer to her, and maybe she would have pulled him into the dance instead of the other girl. He was pulled away from the scene by the sound of Pope losing his entire dinner. “Shit,” Pope groaned. “I think I’m sticking with Coke for the rest of the night.”

“You do that, man,” JJ laughed. 

The party wore on, but JJ stayed near Pope, making sure he wouldn’t pass out or anything. A nervous-looking girl wandered over, she was obviously not drinking and seemed rather uncomfortable with the whole situation. Pope asked her where she was from and she awkwardly explained that she was here with her sister, who had disappeared. To JJ’s surprise, Pope easily struck up a conversation with the girl, and she actually seemed interested in the crap he usually talked about - dead bodies and such. She actually knew a fair amount about forensics, studied it for a year or something. JJ decided to leave the two of them to their weird fascination with cadavers. He caught sight of Kie again, still with the redhead girl, though not really dancing anymore as much as stumbling aimlessly and laughing obnoxiously. JJ couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her that drunk. 

Kiara saw JJ standing at the edge of the group of teens dancing. “JJ!” She cried wildly. She tugged the girl she was with along, “This is my bes’ frien’, you hafta meet him.” As she got closer, she waved, “J - JJ! Hi!”

She fell into him. He pulled her upright, saying, “Hey, Kie.”

“JJ! This is my friend! She’s so pretty. She’s..shit, wha’s your name?”

“Leah,” the girl giggled, in a North Carolina accent. She was as drunk as Kie. “OMG, y’all are too cute! She hasn’t stopped talking about you all night! I kinda thought I’d get to take her home with me, but not with you hangin’ around…” She trailed off with a boisterous laugh. She pulled a pen out of her pocket, grabbed Kiara’s arm, and started scribbling a phone number. “If you ever get bored with him, text me!”

“She’s so nice,” Kiara gushed. “So pretty. Her hair looks like the sunset, and she danced ama-amazing. Amazingly? Do you say amazing or amazingly? She smelled nice, too. Like strawberries.”

“Kie, how much have you had to drink?” Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes unfocused, her speech slurring more by the second. 

“Dunno…” she whispered, too loudly. JJ took her arm and moved to lead her away from the crowd, back to where Pope was still chatting with his new friend, but she pushed him away. “Can do it myself!” She said belligerently, taking a few faltering steps, and promptly tripping over a stray piece of driftwood and falling hard into the sand. She laid in a crumpled heap, not bothering to move.

JJ rushed to her side, cursing himself for letting her get this bad. He made her sit up, and asked, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Kie nodded tears filling her eyes. She didn’t cry over injuries, so it was either the alcohol in her system, or she’d actually gotten pretty hurt. She put a hand to the side of her head, and JJ noticed a thin line of blood running in between her fingers. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Let me see.” She’d hit her head on the driftwood as she fell, and though the scrape didn’t look too bad, head wounds did bleed a lot; he just hoped she hadn’t given herself a concussion. “Okay,” he continued. “That’s not so bad. C’mere, let’s clean you up.”

He steadied her as she struggled to her feet, but as soon as she took a step, she cried out. She sank back down to the ground this time clutching her foot. “Fuck,” she muttered. “Think I fucked up my ankle, too.” She’d moved past the happy-friendly-drunk stage, and was headed into angry-drunk territory, or maybe sad-drunk, neither of which JJ wanted to experience at that moment. He knelt to examine her foot, sliding her now-broken sandal off and prodding her ankle. He carefully wiggled her toes and twisted her ankle in various directions, checking for a break. 

“Not broken,” he said finally. “Maybe sprained.”

“Fuck,” she growled - definitely into angry-drunk territory, now. 

“I’m going to take you home-“ JJ started.

“No!” At this, the tears spilled over and down Kie’s cheeks, maybe sad-drunk after all. “No, I’m fucking shitfaced and my parents are going to kill me, especially after being late to work today…”

“Okay, okay. Wanna go to the Chateau instead?”

She nodded, tears still falling, her breathing erratic.

JJ managed to grab a water from the cooler and let Pope know what had happened. The harder task was convincing Kiara to drink the water before they took off on his bike. He would have preferred to take the van, but John B was nowhere to be found, and neither was Sarah. They were probably off getting into trouble somewhere. The bike ride back to the Chateau was surprisingly nice, Kiara still retaining enough sense to cling to JJ’s shirt, even if her balance was off. Once they pulled up to the door, JJ reached to help her dismount. “I can- I can do it myself!” She said.

“That’s what you said before you fucking concussed yourself, Carerra.” He lifted her off the bike easily and tried to set her on the ground, but her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into him.

“You smell nice,” she muttered.

“Sheesh, Kie, if you wanted to cuddle, you could have just asked. Didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

They’d barely made it to the Chateau’s bathroom when Kie groaned, “Gonna puke.” JJ held her hair as she knelt in front of the toilet.

“Did you mix, Kie?” He asked surprisingly gently. 

She nodded, catching her breath.

“You know better than that.” 

She nodded again. 

“That first-aid kit is still around here, right?”

Kie groaned in response resting her head against the toilet bowl. JJ continued rummaging in the cabinet, before finding a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a small first-aid kit. The cut on her head had almost stopped bleeding, so he started there, wiping it clean with peroxide. He handed her a wad of gauze and guided her hand to hold it to her head. “Hold this,” he said, as her hand started to drop. He placed her hand back on her head. “Hold this here. I’m getting ice.”

JJ returned with two bags of ice, one of which he placed on her rapidly swelling ankle. The other was for her head. He found antiseptic and a large bandage for her head. “How’d you get so good at this?” Kiara slurred.

“Practice,” he said with a grimace.

“Shit… sorry.” JJ hadn’t seen his dad in over a year at this point, but he still had a hard time talking about the things he experienced. Both Pope and Kie had tried to convince him to talk to a professional about his problems without much luck. Still, he had come a long way. 

Once JJ had helped Kie clean up her injuries, he left her to take a shower. She noticed the redhead’s - Leah’s - phone number on her arm, and rolled her eyes with embarrassment; she set about scrubbing it off. When she stepped out of the shower, she saw he had left her a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt. She found some toothpaste and fumbled through brushing her teeth with her finger while inspecting herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, there was a massive bandage on the side of her head, and she was nowhere near sober, so some improvement was needed. Maybe sleep would help. She limped into the living room, her still wet hair dampening the back of the t-shirt and making her shiver. She flopped onto the pull-out, and almost dozed off. 

JJ shook her leg, “Hey, Kie, you hit your head, you can’t sleep yet.”

She groaned as she sat up, “Dammit, Maybank.”

“You’re the one who decided to get totally shitfaced! Tea?” He handed her a hot cup of mint tea.

“Since when do y’all keep tea in this place?” She was grateful for the warmth, the mint soothing her dehydrated throat, and relaxing her.

“Since Sarah.” JJ made a face that, even drunk, Kie knew he didn’t really mean. He climbed onto the pull-out next to her, and she leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. 

“It’s gonna be weird without them…” Kie said, trying to keep her eyes open. 

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll finally get some damn peace and quiet around here,” he said lightly. 

“You won’t get lonely?” Kiara hadn’t meant to shift to that particular topic of conversation, but she was drunk enough she didn’t care. 

“Probably will,” JJ was surprised at his own honesty, but then again, Kiara was so far gone, she probably wouldn’t remember this conversation. 

“Come with me,” she said suddenly, sitting up. 

“What?” JJ laughed nervously.

“To Europe. Come with me.” The words were just spilling out, now. Kie could feel her cheeks burning and decided to blame it on the alcohol, and maybe the tea. “The Outer Banks will always be here when we get back, so why not see the world with me?”

“Kie, you’re drunk,” JJ said slowly. “And you’re hurt, and you’re tired. You don’t really want me to come with you. I’d fuck up all your plans.”

“No, no you wouldn’t!” She made sure to set her cup of tea on the floor, despite the fact she almost fell off the pull-out doing so. Sitting on her knees, she leaned toward him, “JJ, I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while. I think you’d have fun, and I can’t stand the thought of you staying here alone!”

“Kiara, it’s a really bad idea. Imagine how much damage I could do in another country,” he laughed, though his voice was tight.

“That’s why we’d go together. To keep each other out of trouble and patch each other up when we do get scraped up. We’d have each other.” She was leaning over him now, her face inches from him. 

“Kie, you’re drunk-“ he started again. She closed the last few inches left, and pressed her lips to his, sloppily.

He pushed her away and jumped up. “No,” he said firmly. He started pacing, “Damnit, Carerra, you’re the one always going on about consent, and you’re fucking wasted right now, and do you know how long I’ve been waiting for that-“ he cut himself off. “Fuck! I wish you were sober right now!” 

He took off then, out the back door onto the porch. Through the window, Kie watched him fish a joint out of his pocket along with his lighter. He shakily ran his fingers through his hair and flopped down to sit on the stairs, staring out across the sound. 

Kiara blinked furiously, tears of anger, sadness, embarrassment threatening to spill over. She was not sober, she knew, but she wasn’t that drunk either. The shower and tea had gone a long way to sobering her up. Granted, she probably shouldn’t have relied on the alcohol to get her through that conversation. And kissing him? God, what was I thinking?!

Wiping her eyes, she grabbed the quilt off the pull-out, made another cup of tea, and made her way out to the deck. It was slow going, with her sprained ankle and all, but in a moment she was easing herself down to sit next to JJ. She wrapped the quilt around their shoulders and handed him one of the mugs of tea. She leaned into his side, setting her chin on his shoulder. He tensed but didn’t pull away. 

“Kie-“ he started.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have… I am drunk.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments. Between the tea and the joint, JJ had started to unwind. Kie was getting sleepy, each time she blinked her eyes stayed closed for a little longer. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” She murmured.

“Sure, Kie.” He wrapped his arm around her then. “Yeah, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

***

Kiara woke up in JJ’s bed, again. She didn’t remember going to bed or falling asleep, honestly, she didn’t remember going inside at all. The last thing she remembered was the smell of JJ’s shirt, saltwater and bonfire, and weed and dozing off on the porch stairs. She was still wrapped in the quilt from the pull-out, now. Her head and ankle were throbbing, but there was a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand, which she took advantage of. JJ was nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the house was quiet; she wondered if any of the other Pogues had even bothered to come home the night before. On occasion, when a party got really out of hand, they would just crash in the van until they could drive again. As Kie made her way into the kitchen, her suspicions were confirmed, it was still just her and JJ. She smelled coffee. 

“Mornin’,” she said softly. JJ was leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled herself up onto the counter. 

“You sleep well?” JJ asked. 

She nodded.

“Headache?” 

Again, she nodded, then laughed, “This is so fucking domestic, who are we?”

The silence that followed was awkward. Kiara finally broke it, “Listen, about last night…”

“Kiara, I don’t want to-“

“We have to talk about it, J. I’d rather get it over with.” He sighed and gestured for her to continue. 

“Okay,” she began. “I didn’t ask you to come with me to Europe because I was drunk. If I’m honest with myself, I got so drunk because I was nervous to ask you to come with me.”

“Why were you nervous?” JJ hated how small his voice sounded.

“Um, I guess I didn’t want you to say no. I’m kinda nervous to travel by myself and be away from the Pogues for so long.”

“Oh, and I’m the only one without plans, so I’m the only one left to ask.” There was no malice in his voice. It was just a fact.

“No, you were actually my first choice,” she held eye contact with him, willing herself to feel more confident. “Regardless of the others’ plans, I wanted to ask you.”

“Why me, Kie?” He’d put out the cigarette and set down his coffee cup.

She took a deep breath and decided to be honest with him and with herself, for the first time. “Because you’re my best friend, and I can’t stand that I won’t see you for months if I go alone. Because you’re the kindest person I know, despite everything you’ve been through. Because I was so fucking jealous last night when I saw you talking to other people that I got absolutely shitfaced and tried to make you jealous, too, but even then you weren’t, and you were still nice to me. Because when I made a total fool of myself and busted my ass you took care of me. Because even though I made things totally awkward you were still sweet and even carried me to bed, I think, I mean who does that-“

“Kie…”

She continued, “Because even though I waited until I was drunk to kiss you, I’ve been wanting to do that for a fucking long time-“

In two steps, JJ had crossed the kitchen to her and grabbed her face in his hands. He captured her lips with his, almost desperately. When they broke apart, he said, “Kiara, I’ve loved you since we were thirteen.”

“You’ve got me beat, Maybank. I’ve loved you since we were sixteen.” They both chuckled. “What took you so damn long?” She asked.

“Me? What about you? And your stupid, ‘no macking on other Pogues’ rule?”

“Fuck that rule,” she said and pulled him back to her for another kiss. 

“Now that I’m pretty much sober, and only slightly hungover,” she said. “Will you please come with me to Europe?”

“Well, since you’re sober…” he said gently. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Kiara.”

For JJ, August was still full of gold and light and sunsets and new beginnings, and now that he had Kiara, it probably always would be. The Outer Banks and the Pogues would all be there when they returned.

[audiblesmirking]

erratic heartbeats ~chapter 5: she sells seashells by the sea—ohmygod SHE'S DROWNING~

⚠️Minor Swearing⚠️

Legend: "English unless stated otherwise" --- 'Thoughts' --- "Telepathically speaking" --- [Authors' Note]

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'Ah, the beach... I would've enjoyed your sand today if it weren't for my parents forcing me to go out' Azumi sits on her beach mat, an umbrella implanted behind her and shielding her from having heatstroke. 'A shame, Atsumi-san reported me for being closed in my room all summer. They never really did like me, I suppose.'

The psychic let out a sigh, her hand moving to shut all the thoughts around her up and wrap her arms around her knees. 'I don't understand how people can be so sociable.' Azumi commented, turning her head at the party going on near her. '... and loud.'

She thought the noise was getting louder, so she decided to pack and move to a different, and quiter spot on the beach. Wearing her sunglasses, she began her search for a new place to sit. The sound of the party slowly fades as she walks away from her previous position. 'Atleast they're having fun.'

The wind felt nice on her skin as it gently blows against her. Azumi was watching the swaying palm trees as she saunters on the cemented sidewalk, when a stray pebble made its way into her footwear. Cringing, she raised her foot to shake off the small stone, successfully relieving it from its discomfort. However, due to her movements, she accidentally stabs the back of someone with the end of her umbrella, earning a yelp from the aforementioned someone.

"SHIT. I'm so so sorry—" The situation surprised Azumi, as well as the poor person who was hurt from her carelessness. She extended her free hand to help support the boy—who looked oddly familiar to her—as he stands up.

"It's fine. Just be careful next time—"

"Hairo-san?" Azumi finally recognized the person in front of her once he turned around to face her, she lifted her sunglasses and laid them on top of her head. Hairo had a hand stretched behind him to sooth the spot in his back that had been jabbed, when he saw the familiar face of his classmate. Before he could greet her though, she already started talking. "I'm sorry for stabbing you with my umbrella. I was distracted because there was a pebble in my slipper; and I didn't see you because I was making sure the pebble was out and not providing discomfort to my foot. I should've looked at where I was going. I—" Azumi shut herself up by covering her own mouth after realizing she was rambling. "Again, I'm so sorry, Hairo-san."

Kineshi laughed at her reactions, successfully lightening the atmosphere. "It's alright, Kanasawa-san. It's good to see you."

His words brought a smile on Azumi's face. She liked his presence, because he always seems to bring her out of her shell at the right times, plus he's the kindest to everyone he meets. Atleast, that's what Azumi sees in him. "You too. By the way, what brings you here?" She gestured at the whistle he picked up from the ground after dropping it out of shock from their encounter.

"Ah, well, I volunteered as a lifeguard—" Hairo was cut off by a yell followed by splashing, a tell-tale sign of someone slipping into the water. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" He was already sprinting down to the shore.

'Kusuo-san, Kaidou-san and Nendou-san? Surprise to see them here.' Azumi thought, walking astray from the sidewalk and following Hairo.

He dived into the shallow waters, the force pulling down his pants, as he lifts the seemingly unconscious Kaidou. 'Hairo-san does have a knack of not wearing underwear.' Azumi sweat dropped, at his partial nudity. She layed her things on the sand close to Saiki and sat down, having decided that this spot was suitable.

"Oh, it's you Hairo!" Nendou greeted as Hairo stood up, holding Kaidou as he lay limp in his arms.

As Kineshi took notice of Nendou and Saiki's presence, Azumi is left puzzled. 'How did he pull up his pants while holding Kaidou?'

Hairo walks out of the water and places Kaidou on the sand in front of Azumi's mat, as if nonverbally saying 'look after him' and moving on to answer Nendou. 'It's a mystery to me how you don't see Kusuo-san as capable for this.' Azumi was about to turn off her power limiter to see how much water her friend inhaled, when the boy in front of her stirred, halting her hand mid-air. Saiki, who has been silently watching, squinted his eyes at this. "Kaidou-san, are you okay?" Azumi loomed over his head, with some of her hair that failed to be pushed back by her hand falling down and tickling his face.

She was too late to gather the ones that hanged, sitting back and expecting the sneeze Kaidou let out. Azumi grimaced, eyebrows knitted and looking apologetic, "eesh... sorry." moving to kneel beside him as he sat up. She hesitated to hold his shoulder as he coughed out the water that entered from his nose and mouth, instead she gave pats on his back, attempting to help get rid of any excess sea water.

Once Kaidou settled down, he took notice of Azumi's presence, having been the first face he saw after regaining consciousness. "Ka–Kana–Kanasawa-san?! Wh–What–HI."

His response relieved her, Azumi let out a sigh before smiling at him. "Hi to you too, Kaidou-san."

——————————

"Ugh... who's at the door this early in the morning..." Azumi groaned, dragging herself out of her room and in the hallway in front of her door that overlooks the front yard and gate. She had a hand on her ear cuff, sluggishly twisting and turning, in order to deactivate it. "And on the day Atsumi-san isn't here."

Atsumi was hired only for the duration of the summer break to maintain the lavish look of the Kanasawa manor, with a weekly day off for them to refresh themselves. Yesterday was their last work day before the next term starts.

Azumi squinted her eyes at the person in front of their gate, wanting to confirm herself despite the person's thoughts distinctly confirming almost her every doubt. "Hairo-san?"

'Hmm... Kanasawa-san isn't answering the intercom. Maybe she's not home.'

'What kind of teenager is up and about at 7 am on the last day of summer?' Azumi sighs, wanting to go back to bed, but her drowsiness has already left the moment she used her powers. 'Apparently, people like Hairo-san'

'I came here to return Kanasawa-san's beach mat and umbrella that she left yesterday...' He looked down on the bag he was holding.

Realization hit Azumi like a wreaking ball, as her mouth dropped, her hand raising to cover it. 'Oh yeah... That's what I forgot...' No wonder the feeling of having forgotten something never left her until she went to bed.

'Well then, I'll just give this to her at school tomorrow.' Hairo turned and was about to leave.

'No way, I'm not carrying those at school.' Azumi already teleported behind her home's front doors, creaking one open and successfully halting Hairo from his departure.

"Ah, Kanasawa-san! Sorry to bother you, but you left your beach mat and umbrella yesterday" He exclaimed once he saw the figure of Azumi walking towards the gate.

"No, I'm sorry to bother you, Hairo-san. You came all this way to bring me back my things" She opened gate and took the bag from Hairo's extended hand. "Thank you..." Azumi smiled at him.

'Oh My, My Dear, forgetful as you are, you're so rude. Invite him in. Invite the guest in. Invite him in.' She froze. She thought she heard the voice of her mother, but remembered she was at work. "... in...?" She hadn't realized she spoke before it was too late.

"In?" Hairo repeated, confused at the dazed look his classmate was showing. "Ah! Are you asking me to come in, Kanasawa-san?"

Azumi felt embarrassed for spacing out in front of him, she answered in confirmation. "yes...?" It sounded unsure and more like a question, but Hairo laughed it off and thought it was her usual shyness that was preventing her from speaking clearly. "I–Come in, Hairo-san." Azumi opened the gate wider for her classmate to enter.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm sorry, Kanasawa-san. Today's my last day as a volunteer lifeguard. I have to do my best until the end!" Hairo was determined; he almost always is.

"oh thank god" She felt relieved he declined, wanting to be alone for the rest of the day to prepare for school tomorrow.

"Hm? Did you say anything, Kanasawa-san?" Hairo was distracted at his self-motivating thoughts. He turned to Azumi, who simply shook her head as a reply, a tight smile displayed on her face.

"Good luck, Hairo-san" She closed the gate before letting out a sigh.

'Even without her physically being here, I can feel my mother's criticism on everything I do' Azumi agonized, comical tears streaming down her face as she clenches her fist in frustration.

Teleporting to her room, a weird clinking sound came from the bag Hairo gave to Azumi. 'Hm?' She peeked inside, there was her umbrella sticking out, her mat neatly folded in and... are those seashells?

They were pretty, Azumi confesses, and had unique shapes, but she doesn't remember picking them up yesterday. She may be quite forgetful, but she knows she isn't one to get everything that catches her eye. No, that would be her mother.

'Why did Hairo-san give me seashells? Strange.'

——————————

A new semester starts at PK Academy. Some classmates were complimenting Hairo on his new tan, while most of them were flocking around Teruhashi, surprised to find out she had an eye on someone special.

Azumi was sitting in her designated chair, observing around her classroom, when she cringed at Teruhashi's sly excuse after she accidentally yelled and broke her perfect figure. 'Who in the world is Yurwei Offidjot?' She facepalmed, feeling vicarious embarrassment on Teruhashi's act.

Though, Kaidou, who was standing behind Saiki, misunderstood Azumi's actions. "Hey, Saiki, Kanasa—huh? Are you okay, Kanasawa-san?" Azumi lowered her hand, turning her head to face Kaidou.

"huh...? Ah, yes." She absentmindedly nodded. He looked weird today, with his hair styled strangely and sporting an eyepatch over his eye.

"Really? Well, if you're not feeling well, just tell me—us! Just tell us—! We're you're friends, right?!—"

"Get to the point, Kaidou" Saiki cut him off before he spiraled.

"O–Oh, right. Don't you think Nendou is acting strange today?" Kaidou stuttered, before glancing at the mentioned guy sighing and shifting his hand all over his face. "Normally, he'd be bugging us to get ramen or something"

"True. He is acting a little strange."

Kaidou and Saiki planned to stalk Nendou after suspecting him to be hiding something, and invite Azumi with them. However, "Azumi-san! Please help me!" Yumehara appeared next to her and dragged her out of the classroom, leaving the two boys to spy by themselves.

She dragged the psychic into a more secluded place, behind the school. "I don't know anyone to talk to about this, but please hear me out, Kanasawa-san!" Yumehara started, her voice cracking at the end. "My boyfriend, Takeru, and I haven't been getting along, and I think we're growing apart..." She sobbed, holding onto Azumi's forearms for support.

Azumi sweat dropped, not knowing what to do or how to comfort her. "Ah, I thought you liked Kusuo-san. When did you get a boyfriend?" At her words, Yumehara raised her head, showing the tears that were trailing down her cheeks.

"That's another problem! I think my crush on him is resurfacing..." She weeped, wiping her cheek. "Takeru used to be so romantic..."

"here we go..."

"He loves to say this phrase, but he's so repetitive at it. It's getting a bit tiring. And when he finally says something different..." Yumehara cringed at her memories, earning furrowed eyebrows from Azumi. "... it made no sense and turned me off."

Azumi nervously laughed, grabbing Yumehara's hands and holding it in hers. "I see. I appreciate you telling me all this, Chiyo-san, but I'm not the best choice to ask for love ad—"

"That's not all. Takeru's feet stink, he makes lots of noise when he eats, and he holds chopsticks weird, too. He's very condescending to store clerks, he's got terrible fashion sense, and he kills the mood at get-togethers all the time by dislocating his jaw..." Yumehara cut her friend off, enumerating all of her boyfriend's flaws. "These days, all I can see are his faults"

'Good grief. I normally couldn't care less about other people's relationships, but she might go after me again if they break up.' Azumi resisted the urge to look up and at the watching Saiki.

"okay, alright... What do you want me to do, Chiyo-san?"

"I predict that Takeru would bring me on a date later, before he walks me home. I want you to follow behind us, and if anything goes wrong, (like if we break up), atleast I have someone to be there for me." Yumehara turned away mid-sentence, whispering something inaudible—for an ordinary person—before continuing.

Azumi's features softened at her words. 'She just needs a friend.' She nodded, earning her a hug from Chiyo.

"Thank you, Azumi-san!"

.

.

.

'That's Chiyo-san's boyfriend?' Azumi thought, standing by the gate while holding open a book.

"Sorry to make you wait. Now that I'm here, the rain in your heart is—"

"Oh, it's fine. I just got here too." Yumehara didn't even let him finished, as she deadpanned at him.

'I'm guessing he was about to repeat his usual phrase Chiyo-san got tired of.' Azumi raised her eyebrows at the sight of Saiki behind one of the pillars of the entrance. 'Ah, he did say to himself that he wanted to salvage their relationship.'

"Wanna do something? Go somewhere?" Takeru started, walking beside Yumehara as they leave campus.

"Either is fine." Chiyo boredly replied.

"Then let's go somewhere."

"I can't go too far."

As the couple conversed, Azumi pretended to be busy reading her book as she follows behind. 'It'll be awkward to walk behind them with Kusuo-kun.' She resisted the urge to sigh, instead, she placed her free hand in her pocket. 'The two are heading to the town center... Maybe I can just stop by one place and wait until something bad happens to Chiyo-san.'

Azumi already turned a corner, opting for a shortcut to the town center and get ahead of the couple and Saiki. 'It beats having to act like I'm reading. And besides, Kusuo-san will be there to make sure everything goes perfectly.'

•°●•°●•°●

Azumi found a quiet café to rest and wait, having ordered a slice of cake to not raise suspicion. Her power limiter was turned off for her to listen to the thoughts of the people around her, primarily Saiki's, so as to keep track of Chiyo's actions.

Yumehara and Takeru's date was going smoothly, thanks to Saiki and his powers. 'I wonder when can I control mine like how Kusuo-san can control his.' Azumi sighed, lightly envying Saiki's ability to use his varying psychic powers at will.

'Her favorability meter is at ♡95♡. There's no way they can break up now, right?' Azumi had a bad feeling, suspecting that Saiki likely jinxed everything after thinking that. She stood up, grabbed her bag and dashed out of the shop.

'Good thing I paid after ordering.' Azumi headed to the direction of the Okonomiyaki place that Yumehara entered with her boyfriend. 'What is this 'favorability meter' anyway...?'

.

.

.

Saiki was about to turn and go home, having done so much for Yumehara's relationship, when he heard a yell from inside the Okonomiyaki shop. A voice belonging to a condescending, insensitive young man.

♡67♡

Takeru removed his shoes, his stinky feet fumes invading the air. "Man, I'm starving!"

♡49♡

He held up his hand that had his fingers weirdly tangled in his chopsticks. "Time to eat!"

♡31♡

He began chewing with his mouth open.

♡00♡

"... I can't take this anymore!" Yumehara ran out of the restaurant, crying as she leaves. "Goodbye!"

"Huh? Hey..." Takeru tried following after her, but he stopped at the restaurant's entrance, still chewing his food with his mouth open. "What's her problem?"

Azumi arrived just as Yumehara was about to bump into her. "Woah, hey. Are you alright, Chiyo-san?" She held the crying girl's shoulders to keep her upright, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Yumehara peeked through the space between her fingers, immediately wrapping her arms around Azumi's neck once she saw it was her friend in front of her. "Wahh, Azumi!" The sudden physical contact distressed the psychic, she froze. "I broke up with my boyfriend!"

"... Um... There, there...?" Azumi hesitated, trying to choose her words right. She panicked when Yumehara cried louder, earning a few stares from the people passing by. "fuck, wrong words... um... ice–Ice... cream...?"

Yumehara sniffled, wiping her tears after withdrawing her arms from Azumi. "Ice cream?" She repeated, before brightening up a bit. "Yeah, ice cream will probably cheer me up after all that."

Azumi sighed in relief at her response. "Alright, I'll treat you to some ice cream."

——————————

"Kanasawa-san...!" Kaidou called out to Azumi as she walks along the school's hallways. She turned at the call of her name, just as Kaidou reached her. "I, the Jet Black Wings, will be holding a meeting later after school."

Kaidou had his hair covering one of his eyes, a serious look plastered in his face. "I have assembled formidable seni—no, allies in our quest to defeat Dark Renunion and stop their human seperation plan. We'll gather behind the school and discuss our plans." He turned and walked the opposite way Azumi was heading.

'Oh? He made friends, good for him.'

.

.

.

Azumi was fiddling with her ear cuff as she walks to the back of the school. Kaidou has always been talking to her about the secret organization of Dark Reunion, how overpowered he is despite the initial impression, and the reason behind his bandaged limb. She asked once about the torn hems of his shirt, pants and blazer, and was met with,

"I go through difficult battles everyday before school. Dark Reunion has been sending assassins after me, and I don't want to get the school involved, so I defeat them all before the morning bell rings."

Even though his thoughts reveal otherwise,

'I cut the hems of all of my uniforms, because it makes me, the Jet Black Wings, look cool.'

Azumi keeps hearing from others, even from Saiki, about how Kaidou has eight-grader syndrome. She searched about it, since it was the first time she heard about the syndrome, and was intrigued.

"Ah, Kanasawa-san, you're here." Azumi reached their meeting spot. There was Kaidou, but no sign of any one else. "The others are probably running late." He seemed to know what Azumi was thinking.

She nodded, walking towards him and laying her bag down on the bench. "How many are the 'others' we waiting for?" She knows Saiki was one of the others, having felt his presence nearby as he silently watches.

"There are four more, counting Saiki" Kaidou crosses his arms, trying to act tough and collected, but his thoughts were panicking. 'What if they don't show up?! That just means I wasted Kanasawa-san's time...! No Shun, they will come! The fate of the world rests on our hands! We have to be ready for Dark Reunion's next attack!'

•°●•°●•°●

'... they didn't come...' Kaidou sulked on the opposite end of the bench they were sitting. About 2 hours have passed, and the sun was shining just over the horizon. He hung his head low, his bangs covering most of his face. '... I wasted Kanasawa-san's time...'

Azumi hid her frown, head turned to her sad companion.

"Is he still there?" She piqued at the laughters her heightened hearing heard. She subtly looked up and saw the peeping heads of three seniors. "Yeah, dude, he's still there." They continue to fail to stifle their laughter.

Azumi faced front, trying to act like she was patiently waiting with Kaidou and ignorant of the three seniors' set up. She sensed the seniors peer over the window, leaning each of their elbows on the window frame, thinking he wouldn't look up and call them out. "What a loser. You were right when you said he had eight grader syndrome so bad." The three made fun of what Kaidou said to them when they first approached him, disparagingly mimicking his words.

"Haha, right?!—Hey, who's that chick with him?" One of them pointed out, the rest looking down in curiosity. "This is the first I've seen her. Is she a freshman?"

"I don't know."

Kaidou stood up, drawing Azumi's attention as she turned her head. The seniors ducked under the window. "I'm sorry I brought you here for nothing, Kanasawa-san." He grabbed his things and walked away with a half-hearted wave. He didn't bother to turn and look at her, he was too ashamed to. "I'll see you tomorrow."

This time, Azumi openly knit her eyebrows, worried of the effects of this prank to his mental state, before her expressions turned terrifyingly blank. An eerie and powerful aura surrounds her as her ear cuff lit up like a strobe light, indicating that it was trying to control the haywire burst of power coming from within the psychic.

"Ah, that was fun. Let's go."

"Hey, are we still on with our maze run?"

'Maze run... ?! They still have the nerve to go and have fun after fooling the poor heart of Kaidou?!'

"Heck yeah, come on."

'You all will pay for what you did to Kaidou...'

Azumi properly dealt with the three pieces of trash.

But she did not kill them. unfortunately

.

.

.

'Is she... really a psychic like me?'

——————————

Azumi was worried for Kaidou after yesterday, but he reassured her today by acting like usual. "I feel a great disturbance in the air today. What is Dark Reunion planning?"

"Let's go eat ramen!" Nendou exclaimed, as he walks home with Kaidou, Azumi and Saiki.

Azumi tried to walk behind them, but Nendou and Kaidou insisted she walks first, next to Saiki. So there she was, nervous out of her mind and mindful of her gait and expressions.

"Huh...?" She turned to see what grabbed Nendou's attention, stopping the other two in their tracks. "They installed a new playground over there... And there are no kids playing on them!"

"W–Wait—! Nendou!" Kaidou tried to stop him, but he was already running towards the monkey bars that seem too high for a small child to climb. "Hey, you can't play on those!"

Kaidou ran after him. 'Good grief. Those guys have the minds of preschoolers.' Saiki peeked at Azumi beside him. She had such an ignorant expression, with her eyebrows raised and mouth opened slightly, curiosity dancing in her eyes. 'Her expression right now is such a far cry from the one she made yesterday.' His eyes followed Azumi as she walks to sit on one of the swings.

Saiki observed the scene for a few seconds. Kaidou and Nendou were shouting at each other over the slide, while Azumi sits and watches them argue. 'This is probably the best time for me to go home now.' Saiki thought and turned to walk away.

"Hey Saiki...!" Kusuo clicked his tongue and faced Kaidou. "Come over here and tell Nendou that this is a jungle gym and not a prison for little kids!"

"I'm not the only one here. Ask Kanasawa." Despite the uninterested façade, Saiki walked over and sat on the other swing next to Azumi.

"See?! He said it's a jungle gym!"

"I said no such thing"

"Huh?! I thought it's a jail for children..."

"Idiot! Why would they add a jail for children in a park?!"

Saiki peeked once more at Azumi as Kaidou and Nendou continue to yell. 'She's awfully quiet today' He commented, assuming she knows that he knows about her previous usage of psychic powers.

Just after he finished his thought though, the girl spoke up, pointing at one of the playground equipment. "What's that called?" She asked, like a child.

Nendou and Kaidou ceased their argument, turning their heads at where she was pointing. "Merry-go-round?" Kaidou whispered the answer.

"Ah, that! It's a round-and-round-and-round!" Nendou gave Azumi a thumbs up while walking towards it.

"No, it's a merry-go-round! A. Merry. Go. Round!" Kaidou ran in front of the jock, and stepped up on the merry-go-round in efforts to seem taller.

Nendou took the opportunity to spin the playground equipment, causing his friend, who went ahead and climbed aboard it, to scream from the top of his lungs.

"NENDOU...! THAT'S ENOUGH, PLEASE!"

•°●•°●•°●

The street lights were already on by the time Azumi and Saiki were walking towards their houses, the sun having set minutes ago. They just came from having a ramen dinner with Kaidou and Nendou, and were now heading home.

The two grew used to the silence that falls on their atmosphere whenever they walk together. It was one of the rare quiet times Saiki gets after dealing with nuisances everyday, and he appreciates it. While in Azumi's case, she grew tired of the constant nervousness she feels at these times, so she gave up in filling the silence.

"See you tomorrow, Kusuo-san."

Azumi entered the gates of her house, still feeling the happiness from the afternoon's activities. And, oh, how she wished she knew what was coming for her once she entered the doors of her home.

"You're home late, Zumi-chan..."

Azumi froze in her steps, the small—almost nonexistent—smile on her face dropping. She was just about to walk past the open doors of the main living room, when she heard the voice of her father. She turned her head, hoping she was mistaken and was just hallucinating. She immediately regrets.

"Come here, my dear. Sit down." Akina, her mother beckons, as she was seated on one of the single seats. Aiken, her father, was seated on the other, opposite of his wife. A coffee table was laid in front of their diagonally-positioned seats, then a camelback sofa facing them.

Azumi didn't want to, but it would seem rude or even disrespectful to ignore her parents. Her legs shook, but with every step she takes, it would become almost unnoticeable. She was nervous, because this was the first in such a long time where they would talk face-to-face and was not over dinner. Atleast when conversing over food, she could avoid the discussion under the guise of eating. But right now, there are no distractions.

Once Azumi sat down in front of her parents, she stayed silent to let one of them start the conversation.

"Now, why were you late to go home?" Akina was the first to talk.

The young Kanasawa felt like she was in an interrogation room. The pressure she feels over the two pairs of eyes staring at her is overwhelming. "I... was out with friends... mom, dad." She tried to speak coherently, drawing out false confidence by raising her chin to meet her parents' eyes. "... We... stopped by the park and ate dinner at—"

"Who are these friends of yours?" Aiken cut her off.

"Kaidou Shun, Nendou Riki, and—"

"What did your group do for you to be home at this time?" Aiken continued.

"... We stopped by the park and ate dinner at Hayanari's ramen shop—"

"You had ramen for dinner?" The tone Akina used to state her words were heart-racing, and not in the good way.

"uh—Yes... mom."

"Hm, is that so?" The mother leaned back in her seat, meeting her spouse's stare for a moment before redirecting her gaze at her child in front of her. "Tell me, about your friends... Are they psychics?"

"..." Azumi hesitated at this, but tried to quickly recover. "No but–"

"If that's so, then why are you still hanging out with them?" Azumi's façade almost slipped at her mother's comment.

'She didn't let me finish.'

"You should be training your powers before it gets out of hand." Aiken spoke up. "Because of how late your powers awakened, you don't have much control over it than if you had them sooner."

'Ah, we're back at it with my powers again.' Azumi lowered her eyebrows and turned to look at the roaring fire in the fireplace, a little upset at the shift in conversation. Big mistake.

"Kanasawa Azumi. Look at us when we're talking to you." Her mother pronounced her full name, indicating that the topic has turned serious. "I don't remember teaching you such disrespectful manners."

'That's because you didn't. You and dad are gone most of the day, all week, every month.' She frowned this time, angry to the point of tears. She hid her gritted teeth and resisted the urge to glare at them.

"What's this...? You're talking back now?" Aiken stood up when his wife did. She was surprised, but soon that shock turned into irritation and disapproval.

'fuck' Azumi made the mistake of not shutting her mouth, because of her tendency to speak what's on her mind becoming a more common plot tool of the author to cause drama.

"What has gotten into you, Azumi?" Aiken tried to make sense of their daughter's sudden attitude. "Ever since you've started attending traditional school, you've been more recluse and irritable."

"Yes, you avoid us at dinner. And I suppose those friends of yours may also have an impact." Akina huffed, crossing her arms before sitting back down, her husband slowly following suit.

"what... what are you saying?" Azumi mumbled, suspicious of her parents' next words.

"I guess you'll have to go back to homeschooling if PK Academy has that much of an effect on you." At her mother's words, Azumi feels like she was electrocuted by lightning.

In her surprise, she jolted up on her feet. "That... That won't do, mot—mom... Wasn't the reason you've placed me in a traditional school was to well-round me? To cover the 'social skills' I lack?!" Azumi tried to reason, giving up on masking her emotions. "Mom, it's about time I meet people who can give me perspective into the life I wasn't able to live...!"

"Enough with this attitide! The whole reason we ever enrolled you here was to expose you to a more experienced esper...!" Akina didn't realize her slip-up until Aiken called her name.

"I—You... what?"

——————————

|A/N|

discuss the plot holes of "erratic heartbeats" with us! @ the link in my bio.

[artificialqueens]

There's No One There (Group Fic) - Marmalade

Summary: One student missing multiple classes without warning can be explained away but when more girls start disappearing, it can’t be dismissed. Jaida, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal may not be friends but if it’s to figure out what’s going on, they’re willing to work together.

A/N: I don’t really have much of a note so here’s a fun fact instead. I actually started writing another fic with these ladies + Heidi and I was writing it and writing it thinking “I’m doing so much, the absolute most” and it’s been in the works since mm One Woman Show episode on top of me thinking about it since the season started. For this fic, I came up with the concept less than two weeks ago and posted the first chapter after like 3 days of writing it. For comparison, this fic is currently 23 pages long, the other one is just 6. Inspiration is a wild thing.

Saturday had required the utmost of stealth. Gigi didn’t need anyone to see her on the bus and ask her how she planned to spend her day, she didn’t need anyone to see her slip away from the unloading bus and made herself scarce for the next few hours. She wore a scarf over her head and sunglasses that not only helped hide her identity but looked cute, she folded the paper bag she had received several times over and stashed it deep into her backpack, slipping back onto the bus at the end of the day with no one the wiser.

Everything was going off without a hitch until she tried to return to her dorm and Crystal had spotted her and flagged her down. Crystal’s hands were tightly gripping her hair as she attempted to fill in Gigi on what she had missed but between Crystal’s crying and natural proclivity for jumbling her words, Gigi could barely make out what she was saying. Something happened to Widow, Gigi kept hearing her name, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that it was not something good.

Jackie and Jaida arrived a few minutes later, the former of whom had already heard all this when they road back to school on the bus and went to find Jaida as soon as they set foot on the ground. Out of convivence, they piled into Gigi’s dorm and shut the door before Crystal’s tears attracted unwanted attention.

“-She told me something was going on and to meet her but she never showed up! I went to her dorm and her roommate said she wasn’t there either! What if someone was blackmailing her or something?!”

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Jackie tried to interject some levity into the situation, she looked to Jaida for her input but Jaida’s mind was still tangled over what happened in the library.

“Child, a coincidence that happens three times, one after another?” Jaida’s tone is fast as she thought out loud. “Nicky acts weird, she goes missing. Jan starts acting strange, she goes missing. Widow clearly had something going on and the minute she decides to spill what it is, she goes missing now. Think if we go to the headmaster, he’ll give us some story about how Widow’s parents had some emergency that couldn’t wait one week for spring break or give her any time to say goodbye?”

“You… you think the he-principal made that up?” While Jaida was speaking as fast as she could, Gigi spoke very slowly, piecing her sentence together by the word.

“Yeah, Jaida, that’s a big accusation.”

“Okay, bitch, this is gonna sound a little bit crazy but when I was in the library today there was this one bitch there who was acting weird and when I say weird I mean she wasn’t paying attention to the world at all, all she could do was write in her book like her life depended on it. Then, later on, she freaks out for no reason and starts destroying some old books. Widow said she thought the school was driving people crazy, I’m starting to think she wasn’t just saying that to be dramatic, clearly she knew something we don’t.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? What’th more likely? People dropping out of school or what? What’th even your theory, that they’re being kidnapped and experimented on and- and the school’th involved?”  

Jaida gave Gigi the side-eye from over her shoulder before turning to face her.

“I would have thought you’d be more suspicious; you were the first one to say something and you weren’t having it when the receptionist wasn’t telling us anything.”

“Yeah but then the principal told us what happened himthelf and I started to wonder if maybe me and Nicky just weren’t as close as I thought we were.”

“…Maybe the school doesn’t want the disappearances to get out?” Jackie had been deep in thought after Jaida suggested that the school was involved. It was a jump she didn’t want to make but more than anything Jackie wanted to make sense of what was going on. “This school’s reputation is insane, I’m pretty sure it’s almost entirely funded by investors who want to hire girls who just graduated. If a scandal broke then all the investors would pull out. If they kept the disappearances secret then they could have detectives investigate in secrecy and avoid getting front page on the news. So many the school isn’t responsible per se but the faculty is telling us whatever it takes to get us to leave everything alone.” Jackie wasn’t sure if she believed herself as she spoke but the more detail she added, the more it sounded realistic- or the more she wanted that to be the case.  

“And if they are? What do we do about it?”

“If Widow knew something, maybe she had evidence or a note or something. If we can find anything substantial, we could go to the police ourselves.”

Gigi folded her arms but the looks Jackie and Jaida gave her made her huff and throw them to her sides. “Okay, fine! Crystal, what do you think?”

Crystal had remained quiet throughout most of the conversation. The other girls hadn’t even noticed when her quiet crying had become a quiet stare at the wall ahead of her. She had no visible reaction when Gigi said her name, prompting Jackie to shake her on the shoulder which thankfully managed to snap her to attention.

“Que? Huh, what are we talking about?”

“You weren’t listening?”

“I must of zoned out!” Crystal squeaked meekly. “I’m sorry!”

“We’re going to search Widow’s dorm to find evidence to take to the police.” Jaida explained with her hands on her hips. “We ought to put you on note duty to keep you on track.”

-

The phrase “Hi there, our friend is missing and we want to check your shared dorm on the suspicion that there might be a clue” was something that not even Jaida had the gumption to say to Widow’s roommate. The four of them had resolved to waiting until the next day, forgoing the bus ride into town as they waited for the roommate to head out herself.

For as much as the hall monitors were sticklers about not letting girls dawdle in the dorm hall during class hours, they were far laxer out borrowing keys than they should have been. All it took Jaida was walking into their office and saying with reasonable confidence that she accidentally left her key in the pocket of the blazer she just put in the wash. The monitor just nodded and let her borrow a spare, never going to verify that the key she took was actually for her dorm. In fact when Jaida rejoined the other girls with wide eyes of disbelief they almost mistook it for her getting caught until she reveal the key in her palm.

The hall was empty and the doors didn’t have any names on them, so of the rare passerby that might see them it was far easier to think nothing of it, but that didn’t stop the girls from feeling some sense of secrecy and looking over their shoulders. All they did was put the spare key into the door and still they felt like they were in a spy movie. As soon as the door opened the four rushed in and closed the door behind them.

“God, why is Widow’s room so cold?” Gigi rubbed her hands along her arms, her blazer suddenly feeling not nearly warm enough.

“It feels fine?” Jackie glanced at Jaida and Crystal who both seemed to agree with Gigi.

“I’m sorry we can’t all be Canadian like you, Jackie. Let’s just get this over with.”

Nothing about Widow’s side of the dorm seemed like an obvious clue. No blood or conspiracy theory boards. Crystal walked over to her desk, inspecting the stack of large books that sat on top of it, immediately realizing that they weren’t there the last time she had hung out with Widow in her dorm.

“Are these yearbooks?” The other three grouped up to peer over her shoulder and as soon as she caught a glace, Jaida reached out to take on into her hands.

“I was looking for these yesterday! But, like, what’s Widow doing with so many of them?” Wordlessly, they each took a book to feather through the pages. They were of different years, some decades apart, with several pages missing a picture that they were certain had been there before.

Gigi was the first to snap her book closed and toss it down on the desk. “Three girlth gone, a freak out in the library, and now a lack of pictureth. Figured it all out yet?”

“But did Widow take the pictures or did someone else? And what’s the correlation between the missing pictures?” Jackie put her book down and looked around, her eyes falling down on the backpack resting by the post of the bed, all zipped up and poised to be easily grabbed on the way out. Jackie dropped down to her knees and began to unzip the bag.

“Wait- you’re going through Widow’s stuff now?” Crystal cried.

Jackie paused and looked over her shoulder at her. “…We already broke into her dorm, why are you drawing the line in the sand now?” Crystal stammered before broadly gesturing to Jackie to continue. Among the more normal items in the bag there was a folder, that in itself was not strange as it looked like it was pulled from a normal binder, however its contents were far mor eyebrow raising.

Jackie over turned it and out spilled a pile of yellowed old photos, a brief inspection confirming that they were the photos missing from the albums. The majority of the pictures were of athletic events or class photos taken outside. The activities were different, some of the pictures were of student’s others were of staff, none of them were even from the same year, and a few of them were of students in classrooms.

They had elected to grab the photos and run before they could even chance being caught by the roommate. After putting everything, save for the photos, back where they found them, they had retreated to Jaida’s dorm to pour over them in the search for a pattern. The effort was more frustrating than anything and it took a bit of strong arming to get Jackie to put down the photos long enough to go get lunch. After an hour long break where they mutually agreed not to mention anything about the photos or mysteries for their own sanity, they returned to the dorm fresh faced.

“Where even is this field?” Gigi asked nonchalantly when they returned, Crystal took the photo from her and held it close to her face.

“Um, just out by some shed I think?”

“What shed? The only sports shed it connected to the gym, we don’t have a free standing one.”

“The pictures are pretty old,” Jaida added. “I think the campus downsized their field a couple of decades ago because no one was using them-” Jaida cut herself off with wide eyes. “Wait. Wait- okay, wait.” She bolted up and grabbed the photos out of the other girls’ hands, sifting through them before laying them one by one. “Shed, shed, shed. All of the ones outside have this same old shed in it.” She picked up one of the photos that was taken in a classroom, a girl holding up a banner she painted for some dance that was one of the more modern photos, Jaida wasn’t interested in that- her eyes were on the large window behind the girl. “Yes bitch! Okay, look at that!” She slammed the photo down and pointed to a white spot among the discolored green trees. “There’s the shed again.”

“…And we’re crazy about an old sports shed because?”

“Because- last I heard from Jan, she was going to go for a walk outside. The headmaster said she was caught trying to leave campus, whether that’s true or not, like, maybe this was where Jan was trying to go. If the campus downsized then the shed would be out in the woods by now.”

“The grounds are so different now, we have no idea how deep into the woods it is or even what direction it is.”

“No but!- if we find what classroom this photo was taken from then, child, we got our direction.”

[farfromtommy]

up with the sun // steve rogers x reader

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. Lots of dialogue in this. I don't know if I really enjoy doing a lot of dialogue but this was a lot of fun to write!! I hope you enjoy it

Requests are open!!!

Summary: y/n meets Steve at a coffee shop

Warnings: fluffy, maybe some angst if you squint 

Word Count: 2,379

masterlist

You were seated at the outdoor patio of a small coffee shop on the corner of a busy street. You were enjoying a cup of coffee and a pastry, just aimlessly scrolling through your phone trying to pass the time. You frequented this coffee shop, growing tired of your mediocre instant coffee you bought from the supermarket. 

The simplicity of your life was something you grew tired of. You had the same routine, nothing ever changed. Nothing exciting ever happened in your life. The boldest thing you did was buy a real houseplant instead of a fake one, and tried not to kill it. The brown crunchy leaves sitting in a beautiful ceramic pot in the corner of your apartment was the evidence of how well that went.

You were almost done with your coffee when a tall figure appeared behind the empty chair in front of you. You looked up from your phone and met sunglasses instead of eyes when you looked at the mysterious man standing in front of you. 

“Is this seat taken?” He asked you, his hand placed on the back of it. You looked around the patio, seeing plenty of empty spots around you. You looked back at the man.

 For whatever reason, you decided to go along with whatever he was doing and was not going to turn down an opportunity to sit with an unusually attractive man. Instead of speaking, you just gestured to the chair. Wanting to seem as mysterious as him. He smiled slightly and pulled the chair out and sat down. 

He took his sunglasses off and placed them on the table in front of him, a black baseball cap still gracing his head. You continued to look at him and your Y/E/C eyes met his piercing blue ones. 

He had to have been the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. His broad shoulders and bulging biceps struggling to stay confined into the tight black shirt he had on. The veins running down his forearms made your insides melt. 

“My name is Steve.” He extended his hand out to you. 

“Y/N.” You put your hand out to meet his and shook it confidently and shot him a small smile. He smiled back at you and leaned back into his chair. 

“Are you a local?” He asked you, looking around the patio. 

“Of sorts. It’s complicated.” You told him honestly. 

It wasn’t actually that complicated. You left home when you were 18, wanting to leave the confinements of your small town behind and never look back. You had lived here for about 3 years taking up odd jobs to pay rent and bills. You were taking night classes when you could and ones online with a local college to try and get some higher education under your belt. 

You had finished your associates degree and you were now working towards your bachelors degree. You wanted better for yourself. You left home for that very reason. Your life was going nowhere living at home with your parents and you dropped everything and moved out to a bigger city to try and find what you were so desperately searching for. 

“Tell me about it, I’m sure it’s not too complicated” He sent a warm look your way, genuinely wanting to know more about you. 

“Well I left home when I was 18 to find a better life for myself and ended up here. ” You told him, shrugging your shoulders. 

“How’s that going for you?” He asked.

“Well 3 years later I’m sitting at a coffee shop, with an overpriced coffee and pastry. Scrolling through my emails hoping that my prayers have been answered and I will get what I’m looking for.” You said picking your phone up and waving it in the air. Steve chuckled at your gesture and looked into his lap. 

“Well I hope you find what you’re looking for, I’m sure you’ll stumble across it soon.” He said to you, looking right into your eyes. 

“Thank you, I hope so too.” You said to him. 

“Now tell me about you, enough of my depressing life. What does your life look like?” You asked, taking the last sip of your coffee. 

“Well I don’t do much. I’m just trying to get by. I was stuck for a long time and when I was pulled out from that, I was lost. I didn’t know who I was or what the world around me was. I’ve been trying to get back on track ever since and thankfully have people around me to help me through that.” He said truthfully. You looked at him sympathetically and shot him a warm smile. 

You two continued conversing about your respective lives for what seemed like hours. It was almost like you had known him your entire life and were talking to your lifelong friend. He told you about his time in the army and the things it did to him. 

You let him talk about his fears, giving him a safe space for what he had to say. You told him more about your life back home and how miserable it was growing up. He sympathized with you, knowing what it was like to feel like you didn’t belong and wanting to do more in your life than what other people said was possible. 

You were about to ask him if you could see him again after today, wanting to know more about him when a red headed woman came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her with a shocked expression. 

“Hey Steve, I’ve been trying to call you for a few minutes letting you know we were ready to go. Is your phone off?” The red head said to him, not acknowledging your presence. You sunk back into your seat, not realizing how close your were getting to Steve from the other side of the table. 

“I’m sorry, I was tied up with my friend Y/N here. We’ve just been sitting here having a lovely conversation.” He gestured to you, a smile spread across his face. You extended a hand out to the red head, trying to be friendly. 

“Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m a coworker of Steve’s. I’m Natasha.” She returned the handshake and returned her attention back to Steve. “I think we need to get going. Sam is waiting for us.” She said to him. He nodded his head and Natasha walked away from him and got into a car. 

“I’m sorry this got cut short, I was really have a good time.” He said to you apologetically. 

“Oh no worries, duty calls. I had a good time, also. Maybe we can do this again some other time?” You said, hoping for a positive response. 

A smile beamed across his face. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Meet me here tonight at 8pm? I know some good spots around here.” He said standing up from the chair he had sitting on for so long. 

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tonight at 8.” You stood up with him. Your eyes making eye contact once again. He put his sunglasses on, obstructing your view of his perfect blue eyes. But you knew he was still staring into yours. 

He walked away with a smile on his face and entered the same car you previously saw Natasha enter. You walked the opposite direction, towards your apartment, a smile still resting upon your lips. 

You were slowly walking to the spot where you had the most amazing conversation with the most gorgeous man ever just a few hours prior. The sun had set and the only thing providing light was the street lamps scattered throughout the street. 

It was getting to be a bit chilly, you had now wished you brought a heavier jacket. You leaned against the metal fence surrounding the now empty patio of the coffeeshop. Things were starting to close as the night went on. The number of people on the street dwindling down. 

You stood there for a few minutes, patiently waiting for Steve to find you and whisk you away on whatever adventure he had planned. You checked your phone and when it flashed 8:15 pm at you, you were worried. 

Maybe he wasn’t coming, or he was just running late. You didn’t get a chance to grab his number before he was taken away by the redhead and whoever Sam was. 

You continued to stand there, worry and impatience bubbling in your stomach. Everything soon faded when you saw the familiar large build of Steve turning the corner and walking towards you. You straightened your posture and wiped out the invisible wrinkles from your clothes. 

“Nice to see you again, Y/N. Sorry I’m late I got caught up in work. I would’ve called but I realized I didn’t grab your number.” He said once you were close enough to hear him. 

“No worries. It’s good to see you too.” You smiled at hime. 

“Shall we?” He asked, extending his arm out to guide you. You nodded and wrapped your arms together. 

It was now 1 am and you and Steve had been sitting on this park bench for about 2 hours, just talking about your lives. The conversations were just so natural to you and you didn’t feel a need to hold anything back. You were so comfortable with him. As the night continued to progress, it had gotten too cold for you to handle just wearing your light cardigan. Steve noticed your shivering and your arms hugging your body in search of warmth and without hesitation, took his jacket off and wrapped around your body. You blushed slightly at the kind gesture from Steve and gladly accepted his act of kindness. 

You continued to aimlessly walk around the city with Steve until the sun started to come up. You had never once felt an ounce of sleepiness hit you. You two walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his midsection, and his hand resting on your waist. You had not noticed the sun threatening to spill its light over the buildings around you until you started to see more people start to walk the streets. 

“Well I don’t know about you but I’m in desperate need of a coffee and some food.” You said to him, coming up on the familiar coffee shop. 

“I am too. Go ahead and take a seat and I’ll grab it for us.” He smiled and pulled out a chair for you, the same chair you had been sitting in the previous day. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you drank your coffee, letting the caffeine work its magic. 

“I know we just spent the last 12 hours with each other walking around this city, but when can I see you again?” Steve said to you, setting his coffee down. 

“I actually have some things coming up in the next few days that I can’t miss, and I won’t know what things will look like until I do those. So I don’t know.” You said to him, pulling up your calendar on your phone.

“I leave in 2 days to go back home. I live in New York.” He said. 

Your eyes shot up at him, realizing now that in the 12 hours you had talked to him, you never once asked where he lived. 

“Well the things I happen to be doing the next few days are going to be in the city. I have some job interviews around the city.” You smirked at him. 

“That’s great! So you are moving to New York?” He said with hope lacing his voice. 

“That’s the plan. Going to take whatever job I’m offered. My lease for my apartment is up at the end of the month. If things in New York work out, I should be there by next month.” You said to him. 

“Now I won’t have to drive 4 hours to come see you all the time.” He smiled warmly. His phone started to ring and his smile dropped. He answered it and talked for a few minutes, telling whoever was on the other line that he would be right there. 

“I have to go. But since you’ll be in New York the next few days, I’ll see you soon.” He stood up and pushed his chair in. 

“I’ll send you a message once I get there, and we can figure it out from there. I’ll see you then.” You stood up with him and stood right in front of him. 

He placed a kiss on your lips. You quickly kissed back and brought your hand up to the nape of his neck. You stood there, not being able to pull away. You were brought back to reality when you heard your phone buzz against the metal table and quickly pulled away. A blush gracing your cheeks. 

You grabbed your phone and started to walk away from him. Before you were too far from him you looked back and said “See you in New York, Cap.” You smirked at him and continued to walk away. Not even 10 seconds later your phone started to buzz with an incoming phone call. Steve’s name lighting up the top of the screen. You clicked the green button and brought your phone up to your ear. 

“Calling me already, Rogers? I just walked away.” You said to him. 

“Did you know this whole time? I figured you didn’t since you never brought it up or asked any questions about it.” He said to you, his voice laced with confusion. 

“I figured it out. Don’t remember exactly when, but you said something and I started to put the puzzle pieces together. I never brought it up because it doesn’t matter to me. Plus you didn’t say anything so I thought it was something you didn’t want to talk about. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything like that. I was talking to you, Steve Rogers, not Captain America.” You said to him honestly. 

“You are really something else, Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll see you in a few days.” He said to you. You smiled to yourself and ended the call. 

[hottestthingalive]

Bluebells (2)

Chapter 2: Bulbs

Ao3 Link here.

Chapter 1 here.

Notes: Yay, second chapter is here! Expect the next one... any time between next week and a year. 

Plot: Virgil isn’t okay (I promise), life sucks, and things get gayer. 

Tw: Cursing, disappearances, mental and physical abuse

-

Morning came in the beeping of a shrill alarm.

Scratch that, Virgil decided as he sat up blearily, shutting off the alarm immediately. Doesn’t count as morning if it’s still dark out. 

He grabbed his phone, wincing as the bright light shone into his retinas. 2:31 A.M, the screen said. He was doing pretty well, then -- as long as he got to the coffee place by three, he’d be able to complete a four-hour shift in time to get to school at seven thirty. 

Ugh. He hated the night shift, but his boss liked having the cafe open 24/7, and he ought to be grateful; it was the only time (other than the weekends) that Virgil was able to actually work at, and due to the shitty time the pay was pretty good. It even made up for the lack of tips. 

He got dressed quickly, throwing on his patched sweatshirt over his ripped jeans and torn shirt. Makeup was fast, too, just some cheap foundation and dark eyeshadow under his eyes to hide how crappy he’d been looking lately. No sleep will do that to a guy, he thought, doing his best to hide the dark shadows under his eyes, or at least make them look like eyeshadow. Say what you would, being an emo these days had some perks -- people thought the exhaustion and ragged clothes were for aesthetic, or some bullshit like that. 

Virgil was out the door quickly, locking it behind him and tucking his keys into his pocket. The boards on the porch creaked under his sneakers, and he grimaced at the noise. Creepy as all hell, that. 

As he walked in the darkness towards the better part of town, avoiding the patches of light given by the streetlamps (What if I get mugged?), he reached into his pocket and pulled out his headphones, plugging them into his old phone. Sure, it was dangerous to listen to music while walking alone at two in the morning, but this particular street bordered the woods, and no one wanted to cause a commotion near the home of the fey. There was a reason all the rich homes were in the center of Torbrook, sheltered from their mythical neighbours by human shields.

The ironically-called Sleep was standing at the counter when he arrived, sipping from an obnoxiously large cup and wearing his sunglasses inside. Because of course he was.

“You’re early, Anxiety,” he drawled, tossing a black apron across the counter. “Go sit down. You want a coffee?”

“I’m here to work,” Virgil deadpanned, tying on the apron, “not to buy shitty coffee.”

“Listen, we get a free drink for every shift, and you look like you need it,” Sleep retorted. “Do you ever sleep at all?”

“I need the free drink for later, when I get off,” he said, avoiding the question as he set his bag down in the back room, using his extra time to check his phone. 

Sunnyside had left him a voicemail. 

“Hey, Anxiety,” a voice said into his headphones. “It’s Beck, from the Sunnyside Hospital for Elderly Care. You still have some unpaid bills from last month -- do you want us to email them to you, or mail them? Please get back to us as soon as possible. Thanks!”

Crap. 

“Everything okay?” Sleep asked, giving him a concerned look from the doorway. “Need me to stick around for a bit?”

“I’m good,” he said, mind scrambling for an explanation. “My, uh, my grandma forgot I had a shift today. She got worried.”

“I’m surprised Robin’s even letting you work here. She was always so protective,” Sleep grinned. “I haven’t seen her around town lately. How’s she doing?

Protective? the voice in the back of Virgil’s head screamed. She's in a hospital! How is she supposed to be protective when she thinks I’m living with my aunt and that her shitty insurance is paying all these bills, while as far as anyone else knows she’s just getting a bit reclusive in her old age?

“She’s good,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face as he went to stand behind the counter. “Bossy as ever.”

“Tell her I said hi,” his coworker nodded. “Alright, if you’re good, Anx, I’d better get going. I want to get a short nap in before school starts.”

“Got it,” he agreed, standing. “See you in English.”

“Bye, girl!” Sleep trilled, waving as the door slammed shut behind him. 

He dropped the smile almost instantly, glaring down at his purple nails. Four hours. He just had to get through four hours. 

“Morning, Anx!” chirped Morality, coming through the doors of the cafe. Virgil sighed internally. Morality was always so cheerful. It didn’t make any sense. “Can I just get that nice caramel thing you made for me last time?” He passed his thermos over the counter, still smiling. 

“Sure,” he nodded, taking Morality’s cup and grabbing his own. His coworkers, Oak and Swift, had come in half an hour ago, thankfully early, so he passed the containers to Swift as he untied his apron. “One caramel latte, and for me, as much espresso as you can get into a cup.”

“Anxiety, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” Oak deadpanned, but she took his place at the counter. “Have fun at school, kid.”

“When has school ever been fun?” Swift pointed out, before xe turned to face Anxiety. “I’ll give you three shots.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Four,” Oak said, “but no more coffee for the rest of the day.”

“Fine, parental figures,” he rolled his eyes, picking up his backpack. “Four.”

“Hey, I thought I was your parental figure friend!” Morality cried, managing to look betrayed even as he giggled. 

“You’re the paternal figure, popstar,” Virgil told him, hopping over the counter to protests from both Swift and Oak. They didn’t have to wait long for their drinks, and soon the two of them were in Morality’s car, sipping on the life-giving substance. 

Morality was unusually quiet, had been since they left the cafe, and finally Virgil broke the silence to ask “Hey, everything okay?”

“Oh, it’s fine, kiddo,” he grinned, but the smile quickly faded. “It… It just sounded like you made a pun with my name.”

“...Your real name?” Virgil said, blood running cold. “I’m so sorry, Mor, I didn’t -- I swear, I don’t know it--”

“No, of course you don’t,” Morality nodded, smiling again, more genuinely this time. “I’ve just been a bit jumpy lately. The forest’s been so… quiet. We’re entering spring -- shouldn’t we be seeing more faeries?”

“Only Seelie,” Virgil shrugged absentmindedly, staring out the passenger-side window at the foreboding trees in the distance. “Unseelie will mostly be returning to their realm for the winter.”

“I don’t know how you remember that stuff,” the other teenager sighed. “I can never keep track.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Shit. “I always liked those stories,” he said, chuckling weakly. It was enough to fool Morality, or maybe that was just because he had spotted his boyfriend. 

“Sweetheart!” Morality called, rolling down the window. “C’mon, you’re gonna be late for school!”

“Thank you, love,” smiled his boyfriend, sliding into the backseat and kindly ignoring Morality’s blush. “Anxiety, I see you’ve stolen the front seat again, you heathen.”

“Best friend privileges,” drawled Virgil, taking a sip of his coffee. “Morning, Princey.”

Prince rolled his eyes, before leaning forward and stealing Morality’s thermos and drinking from it. “Listen, One American Reject, I’ll have you know that while I respect and honor best friend privileges, I will still attempt to steal the seat closer to my boyfriend at any opportunity.”

“Fair enough,” Virgil nodded. “That was one of your better nicknames, too.”

“Thank you,” he grinned as Morality started the car. 

“Anxiety and I were just mentioning how we haven’t seen much activity from the forest as of late,” Morality said. “Put your seatbelt on, honey! Have you noticed anything?”

“Er… I haven’t seen as many fey recently, no,” Prince answered, biting his lip as he fastened said seatbelt. “It’s dangerous to go near the forest, anyways -- they might be there, and we just haven’t spotted them.”

“But usually I see something,” Morality countered, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “It’s just… concerning.”

“Speaking of fey, did Mariposa make plans for the play again this year?” Virgil asked Prince, turning in his seat to face Morality’s boyfriend. “She always tells the actors about her weird precautions first.”

“What do you mean, plans?” Prince raised an eyebrow. “I’m new, remember?”

“Oh, Ms. Mariposa always gets worried that the fey will try to attend the school play,” Morality laughed. “Apparently they did one year? It was ages ago. But she always goes all out to try and protect the auditorium during rehearsals and performances and stuff, all salt lines and horseshoes, and she paid the school to make sure the doors and windows have iron on them. She even hangs bells everywhere! I get performances, kinda, but rehearsals? Tech’d notice if anyone snuck in, and they can’t exactly be actors!”

“They could, actually,” Virgil said, and then mentally smacked himself. Sleep deprivation was going to kill him.

“Really?” his cheerful friend asked, surprised. “I thought they couldn’t lie!”

Apparently, I’m the one who can’t lie today. “They can’t,” he agreed reluctantly, because he’d dug this grave and now he had to lay in it. “But acting is different from lying. People are aware you aren’t actually that person, that whatever you say on stage isn’t necessarily true, and they’re faeries, so they exploit that loophole.”

“How do you know that?” Prince inquired, staring at Virgil with a strange expression on his face. 

“My gran. She, uh, used to tell me about meeting some Seelie once, when she was young, and was wearing an iron pendant. They… tried to tempt her by telling her about celebrations they had, and mentioned a performance,” he lied through his teeth, thinking fast. “She was confused, like you were, Mor, and they told her that.”

“I didn’t know your grandmother had almost been taken,” remarked Prince. “Could I ask her about it? That necklace sounds… fascinating.”

Virgil felt himself tense, even as Morality chirped “Oh, I love Robin! She’s so nice! Remember those cookies she used to make for us?”

“They were great,” he nodded, plastering a smile across his face. “But, uh, she’s been kind of sick lately. Not really up to visitors. Sorry.”

“Oh, alright,” Prince nodded, suddenly all bright cheer again. “What were you saying about those cookies, love?”

He tuned out, head pressed against the soothingly cool glass of the window. Those bills were going to suck to pay -- mortgage payments were due soon, too, along with the money needed for everything else. His aunt wasn’t going to be any help at all, the bitch, but his job at the cafe didn’t pay enough for all of the money he owed.

The money just didn’t add up. A sigh escaped him, quiet enough that Morality didn’t notice. He was going to have to dip into his college fund again, huh?

Virgil liked to sit near the windows in classes. Sure, it could be a bit distracting, but even with the coffee, he was too exhausted to pay attention anyways. He liked being able to sit and watch the trees in the distance, observe the squirrels in the large elm that grew beside the school. 

An acorn dropped onto the open windowsill, rolling towards Virgil slightly.

And, of course, there was another reason he liked this placement. 

Elm trees didn’t have acorns. He knew this, had known it when the very first of the nuts had appeared, when he had picked it up in curiosity and noticed it was a little too light. Acorns weren’t heavy, of course, but they had some weight to them. He’d popped off the acorn cap with his fingernail, noticing the smell of sap, and his suspicions had been proven correct -- the nut was hollow, with a folded, thin wedge of paper curled inside.

Peeling out the paper had been difficult, but with one hand doing as he pretended to rummage inside his desk and the other feigning note taking for the teacher’s benefit, he had managed to extract a note. 

He did much the same thing with this new acorn, glad that his seat was in the back of the class and that Ms. Vlinder, his math teacher (and Ms. Mariposa’s wife) was writing out a long problem on the board. Stashing the hollow nut in his desk, he unfolded the paper on his notebook, as stealthily as possible. 

Anxiety,

I should be able to meet you later today -- Advice has agreed to cover for my absence. I’ll see you then, unless plans change. The usual spot.

You’re probably reading this in math again, so stop procrastinating on your work, please. Just because you do not like the subject does not mean you should neglect it. Besides, it would probably take up less of your time (like you keep complaining it does) if you actually took the time to do it in class. 

Logic

He grinned to himself. Well, that was something to look forward to, at least. 

“Anxiety,” said Ms. Vlinder, raising an eyebrow at him from the front of the classroom. “What are you reading?”

His face flushed red. “Um… nothing.”

“Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t look like calculus. Save it for after class, please. Now, can you answer the question on the board?”

He’d gotten lucky, thank god -- the question was one from last night’s homework, and he’d actually done it for once. Virgil muttered his response, slouching in his seat and trying to ignore the heat on his cheeks. Morality cast him a glance, mouthing Are you okay? from his seat closer to the board. 

Virgil nodded briefly at him, stuffing the note into the pocket of his sweatshirt. 

“Stay for a second, Anxiety,” Ms. Vlinder told him as the bell rang for lunch. He did so, fidgeting nervously where he stood. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Morality asked quietly, coming up to him as the other students left the classroom, casting a glance at their teacher. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, mustering up as much false bravado as he could. “Save me a spot, though.”

“Of course, kiddo,” grinned the other teen, before also leaving the room. 

“Are you doing okay, Anxiety?” Ms. Vlinder asked once the room was empty, eyes on Virgil. “I normally wouldn’t ask, but you’ve been extra distracted lately, and your grades have dropped. Even in English, and you’ve always been praised by Mx. Cee for your work in that class. Do you want me to talk to your grandmother?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets and curling his fingers around the note in an attempt at comfort.

“My wife mentioned seeing you when she went to pick up our coffee this morning,” the teacher told him, frowning. “That would have had to be a very early shift, Anxiety. Are you sleeping alright? Do you want me to talk to the counselor-”

“I need money for university,” he interrupted, the practiced falsehood he’d told everyone about his job falling easily between his lips. “I’m fine, really. Can I please leave?”

“...Okay,” she finally nodded. “Have a good lunch.”

“Thanks,” he said quickly, grabbing his backpack and practically running out the door before she could change her mind. 

His friends liked to eat lunch out in the courtyard. It was easier for all of them, the cafeteria being too loud for Sleep and too stressful for Virgil. For March it was relatively warm, and it was an unspoken tradition for every member of their small group to find themselves near the same elm tree that bordered the math classroom for lunch break now that the cold had finally broken. So that was where Virgil went, slipping out the doors with his hood up, ignoring the brief chill of the wind. Morality waved to him, patting the ground besides him, Prince arguing with Sleep about something. 

“Why are you fighting again?” Virgil sighed as he sat besides Morality, setting down his backpack to lean against it. “What did Princey do now?”

“Me?” the dramatic male asked, aghast. “Why me?!”

“We were debating who your mysterious boyfriend might be,” grinned Morality, elbowing Virgil. “That’s who gave you that note, right?”

“Spill, girl,” Sleep drawled, taking a long sip from his Starbucks cup. Where did he even get that? Torbrook didn’t have a Starbucks! “Is he hot?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” Virgil protested, face red again. “The note -- stop rolling your eyes, Sleeping Beauty, I don’t! -- is none of your business.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful!” cooed Sleep, as Morality protested “It is certainly our business! We’re your friends, and as such we have a right to know about your love life! It was in the best friend contract, Anx!”

“No, it wasn’t,” Virgil rolled his eyes. The ‘best friend contract’ had been something he and Morality had made when they were nine, meant to be a joke. Morality’s mom had helped him frame it, and he’d hung it near his desk. It still was on the wall in his room. “I wrote that.”

“Well, I deedn’t expect that to work, anyways,” Morality grinned, and Sleep and Virgil groaned, Princey letting out a snort. “Still, though!”

“Yes, Anxiety, tell us about your mysterious lover’s note!” Prince exclaimed, pretending to swoon. “Every last detail of your courtship! Tell us about your Romeo; did you make the first move, or did he? Have you kissed yet? Do we know him?!”

“I’m certainly hoping I’m not Juliet, because she was thirteen and he was a grown adult, and also they died,” Virgil deadpanned, though internally his mind was racing, scrambling for an excuse. He seemed to be doing that a lot, lately. “Also, no, no, and no! I’m not dating anyone! The note was from a friend of mine who lives outside Torbrook. We, uh, met up over the weekend, he left it for me because when I got there he was out to buy groceries, and I just realized I accidentally grabbed it from his house.”

“You never leave town,” Morality shook his head. “Try again.”

“Actually,” Sleep interjected, actually looking interested now, “last Sunday he wasn’t at work for once. Asked me to cover for him. Are you telling me you actually went to visit this friend?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Now they get it. We all know I’m doomed to be alone, anyways.”

“If you keep talking bad about yourself I will physically fight you!” Morality screeched, tackling Virgil into a hug as Sleep rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and Prince snickered at them both. 

After school, he found himself walking home. He never accepted Morality’s rides on the way back from school, always coming up with some excuse or another to walk. Virgil suspected the cheerful teen believed he was sneaking off to see someone, which would explain how that idea had started, but the truth was that he simply couldn’t let his best friend figure out that his grandmother wasn’t in the house. As far as Morality or anyone else knew, he was living with his grandmother in their nice house near the edge of town. As far as his grandmother knew, he was living with his aunt in her apartment a few towns away, and their shitty insurance was being supported by said woman. Only he knew the truth: that when his aunt had come to visit his grandmother in the hospital when she’d first been admitted a few months ago, she’d sat down with him at the dining table and told him that he wouldn’t be staying with her. 

“I have nowhere else to go--” he’d tried to tell her, but Caroline (she had no other title, having grown up outside Torbrook) had stood up from her seat, eyes shards of ice. 

“I’m not having Lydia’s child in my home,” she’d spat, and Virgil had recoiled at the mention of his mother. “My sister poisoned everything she touched -- she was driving, that night when she died, wasn’t she? Killed your father and your sister, and finally took herself down too. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did it on purpose. She was like that.”

“She -- it was an accident!” he cried. “Don’t talk about Mom like that!”

“I will talk about her any way I damn well please, Anxiety,” his aunt snapped. “You’re just like her, you know. You even call yourself after her! You could have chosen anything, and you decided on a goddamn disorder!”

“Gram told me-”

“I don’t give a fuck what she told you. That woman’s batshit crazy. She tore apart our family to come back to this town, and when I thought the cycle would finally end with her, my idiot sister forgave her, and granted her custody of her child when she died.” Caroline had paused there, picking up her bag. “You’ve been poisoned by both of them, Virgil, and I’m not risking my own life or happiness to deal with helping you just to let you go back after the old bitch dies. The old woman will be gone within a month without money for her treatment, you know that, and I’ll take you in then, finally get around to fixing you.”

She glanced at the rainbow flag magnet sitting on the fridge, holding up a picture of Virgil and his grandmother smiling together at the camera, her expression twisting from simple hatred into something ugly. “Maybe we’ll finally be able to get that gay bullshit out of your head, then.”

“Who am I supposed to stay with?” he’d asked, quiet and resigned, because he understood what was happening, had known deep inside the moment that his grandmother had told him to call Caroline that things would go wrong. 

“Just stay here,” she’d rolled her eyes. “You should be able to care for yourself, Virgil, you’re almost an adult. I’ll see you in a month, when she’s gone.”

He’d felt like laughing, even with the dark bags under his eyes and the crippling exhaustion he hadn’t yet learned how to manage, when his aunt had come back a month later, expecting to see her mother on her deathbed. The confusion and anger on her face when she’d seen Robin sitting up in her bed, hooked up to an IV but chatting merrily with a nurse, and had heard the old woman say “Oh, Carol, hon! I know we’ve had our differences, but I’m so glad you’ve been able to put them past you to care for our Anx, and help with the bills. The doctors say I should be out by August, dear, just in time to see him off to college. How will I ever thank you?”

His aunt had looked at him, standing on the other side of the bed, where his grandmother wasn’t looking, and he’d grinned, twirling his finger near his temple in gentle circles, the sign for crazy, and pointed at first his grandmother, and then himself. There had been a brief flash of fiery anger in her eyes, before Caroline had returned her gaze to her mother. “No need,” she’d smiled benevolently, and Virgil had to give it to her; she was a brilliant actress. “We’re family, after all. It’s what Lydia would want.” 

(He’d regretted taunting her later, when she’d thrown his grandmother’s favorite vase against his head as he tried to leave the house, trying to escape her wrath. She’d been screaming that he was poison, as toxic as his mother and grandmother before him, when the world fuzzed to black, and had left Virgil to wake up a few hours later with his bright purple hair dark with water and blood. He’d only seen her a few times since, when they’d met outside the hospital to visit his grandmother. They’d never mentioned it, and if she noticed how he was constantly on edge around her, she didn’t tell him.)

Virgil snapped himself out of his thoughts, unconsciously rubbing the back of his head. The injury had healed, now, but sometimes he found himself touching the spot anyways, especially after certain nightmares. 

He glanced around as he ducked into a gap between the trees, shifting to the right through a bush to find himself on the rough path he’d carved out over years of walking through these trees. 

It had been too long since he’d visited, he saw -- the grass had begun to regrow, and he muttered silent apologies to the forest as it was crushed under his torn sneakers. A faint breeze swirled around him, lifting the branches, and he grinned to himself. Virgil wasn’t much for gods, capital G and singular or otherwise, but he’d always believed these woods held a magic all their own, even beyond the faeries that used it as a portal between his realm and theirs. The place seemed to hum with it, a quiet force all its own, and he half-believed he’d only ever survived his adventures into it because it let him, had perhaps even guided him to the field of flowers when he was young. 

It was only a matter of minutes before he reached the clearing, and he shivered as the sunlight hit his skin fully, the afternoon sun’s warmth combatting the cool breeze. 

“There you are,” he heard from behind him, and he whirled around at the familiar voice.

“You’re starting to look like Slenderman,” he grinned at Logic, who had grown taller again.

“Those legends were inspired by my people,” the faerie said, rolling his eyes. “And I will have you know I am of perfectly average height for an Unseelie. At least I am not the size of the average mushroom, like those flowery nitwits.”

“Don’t be rude,” Virgil scolded, but he was still smiling, and pulled Logic into a hug even as he said it. “I missed you,” he muttered into his shoulder.

“...I missed you as well,” Logic told him, warm against the crisp March breeze. “It has been a long winter.”

“You look exhausted,” he pointed out, frowning as he pulled away to examine the shadows under the faerie’s mismatched eyes. “When did you last sleep?”

“I’m not the only one,” retorted the other, taking his hand and pulling him further into the sunny space between the trees. The grass was soft as the two sat, Virgil taking off his backpack to put it besides him. “I told you you would need adequate rest to ensure your head healed properly.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled. Logic still moved behind him to check, examining the skin on the back of his head. “It really is, L. The magic did the trick -- no pain, no dizziness, nothing.”

“It looks alright,” the faerie conceded, although he still seemed perturbed. “Be careful, though, Anxiety. It may have been a while ago, but head wounds can have lasting effects.”

“I know,” he nodded, turning to face Logic again. “Now, why do you look like you haven’t slept since August?”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Logic.”

“It has been an… eventful winter,” sighed the dark-haired faerie, lying back in the grass. “There has been strife in both courts for years, but everything has gotten worse now. The heir to the rule of the Seelie Court has gone missing.”

“What? How is that even possible?” Virgil asked, staring down at him. 

“He disappeared in late summer, at the very end of August. Both courts have assumed they are being framed for what happened.” Logic closed his eyes, frustration seeping into his words. “I’m… friends with him, I suppose. I’m a bit worried about him -- Prince was never known for his intelligence.”

“Prince?” he blinked, a cold wave of suspicion washing over him. “Short, dramatic, acts like he stepped out of a Disney movie? Acts like the universe personally affronted him and will only accept an apology if it brings cookies?”

“You know him?” asked the faerie, eyes flashing open as he sat up. “When did you meet him? How? Did he hurt you?!”

“He sounds like Morality’s boyfriend,” Virgil told him, a mix of confusion and anger and fear rising in his chest. “Princey moved to town just in time for school to start -- they started dating in January. Apparently they had Christmas together, some cute fairy tale kiss under the mistletoe.” He’s vaguely aware his breath is quickening, but the blood pounding in his ears is far too loud to concentrate. “Oh god, L, what if he hurts Mor?”

“We cannot be sure your Prince is the same as mine. It could just be a coincidence,” Logic told him, moving closer to hold Virgil’s shoulders. “Breathe, Anxiety. It is alright. Do you remember the pattern you taught me?”

They did a breathing exercise, a four-seven-eight method Virgil had once led Logic through when they were fourteen and the faerie had been having a panic attack. He’d had no idea Logic remembered. 

“We’re going to have to figure out a way to definitively identify whether they are the same person,” he heard a while later, once he had calmed. His head was on Logic’s lap. He didn’t remember lying down, but long fingers were running through his hair and Virgil was far calmer than before, so he shrugged it off. “There’s no way he’d be willing to accompany you near the forest, right?”

“I doubt it,” he shook his head. “Everyone’s scared about this place. How’ve you been getting the messages to me? Could we use that?”

The faerie sighed. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve been making use of the birds in the area to do that -- a little magic, a promise of food, and they do whatever I wish.”

They sat in silence for a time, each with thoughts running rampant through their minds. Something tugged at Virgil’s attention, and he focused, trying to remember what he’d forgotten…

“His eyes!” he exclaimed, startling them both. 

“What?” Logic asked, a trace of amusement in his voice. “What about them?”

“Shouldn’t they be like yours, if he’s a Seelie?” said Virgil, sitting up. “All… fey-ish?”

“That isn’t a word.”

“Shush, you. Point is, shouldn’t I have been able to tell he was a faerie because of that? Or because of his ears? Do Seelie also have the pointed ears, or is that just your lot?”

His eyes widened. “An illusion, of course! Anxiety, you absolute genius!”

“I try,” he grinned. 

“The solution would be to pose as a human, accompany you to your place of schooling, and speak to him myself!” Logic exclaimed. “Do you have any human clothing I can borrow?” He hesitated. “Only if it is alright with you, that is. We can come up with another solution.”

“Actually, that works out,” Virgil told him. “I lied to my friends about visiting someone out of town over the weekend -- they’re going to ask for photos or something for proof, knowing them, so you can stand in as my imaginary friend.”

“What were you actually doing?” Logic asked, frowning, and Virgil mentally cursed. Why was he so goddamn perceptive? “We haven’t seen each other in a few months, so it was not on my behalf, and I have never known you to lie without reason.”

“...I was visiting my gran,” he confessed, staring at the blades of grass under his hands. “She hasn’t been doing too well lately, and my aunt still isn’t helping with money. I’m probably going to have to take more shifts at my job, and I wanted to see her without my aunt there for once before I started having no time to.”

“You told me once that it was strange that my people made me work even as a child,” Logic said, voice quiet. “You are clearly not doing well, Anxiety, and your health is precarious enough as it is. You should have gone to human doctors for that head wound, and you appear exhausted.”

“I’m fine, L,” he snapped. 

“No, you aren’t!” 

They both were startled by his shout, and Logic pinched his nose in faint exasperation. “I apologize. That was unnecessary. But I think you really should inform your grandmother of the situation. At this rate, even if you save her, you may kill yourself in the process.”

“She’ll make Caroline take me in, or ask a friend of hers from out of town. I can’t leave Torbrook now,” he shook his head. “I can’t. I’d be leaving you, and Mor, and… and God, L, there’s some sort of curse on this place, and I want to go to college, I want to see the world before I’m dragged back here!”

Everyone, even the fey, knew of the strange power of the town, and its effect on its residents. Virgil had watched people try to leave for years, to go to college or to just finally escape, and yet somehow, every single person, even the ones who hated the place most bitterly, were dragged back, unable to stay away permanently. It had happened to his gran, he knew -- she’d left, married a man she’d met in college, had his mom and Caroline, and then when both of the girls were ten, had found herself divorcing her husband and returning to Torbrook. Robin had hated herself for it, said so to Virgil after she’d had a bit too much wine, but she hadn’t seen another way -- the place had seemed to pull on her soul, and she couldn’t drag her new, innocent family along with her. 

The only people who had ever seemed to permanently escape were the ones who had accidentally revealed their names, and Virgil suspected that was only out of pure necessity. They could only survive on the outside -- returning to Torbrook was a death sentence, or worse, with any faerie or opportunistic human ready to use their true names against them. It was what had happened to Taylor, formerly called Yellow. They had accidentally told their true name at a party, gotten a bit too vulnerable, and one of their friends had told the whole school. They’d left town the next day, and hadn’t been back since. Their parents had occasionally visited them, but never seemed able to permanently stay with their child, much as they wanted to. Eventually, the visits stopped, and then so did all communication.

Taylor could have been dead, for all anyone knew, the pull of Torbrook doing to them what it had done to all the others who had resisted -- first sickness, like the flu, a shivering weakness, and eventually… 

Well, after a girl called Fortune had died in the hospital near her college, the doctors unable to help her, no one had wanted to risk it. 

So Virgil couldn’t leave Torbrook, even if he wanted to. He was saving every second for college, and maybe for a trip after that if he got lucky. 

He wouldn’t.

Abruptly, he stood. 

“Anxiety, I-” Logic began, and Virgil knew him well enough to know the other was about to apologize, and he couldn’t take that, not then. 

“Meet me here again in a few days, okay? I’ll bring clothes and stuff, and I’ll let the school know you’re a visiting student. They let that kind of thing happen, usually assume it’s a cousin who was born here who got the sickness. Super lax about it, weirdly.” He was aware he was babbling now, as he grabbed his bag, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “Sunday should work, yeah? You can come with me on Monday, I can say we drove down from your home together.”

“Anxiety, what if it is him?” Logic asked, interrupting him mid-tangent. “Not only will we face the wrath of the next ruler of the Seelie Court, but will also expose the fact that we have been… consorting.”

“I’m not letting Mor get hurt,” said Virgil shortly, stepping back to leave. “I don’t need my best friend getting kidnapped by a faerie on my plate, too. I’ll see you Thursday.” He turned, and, without giving Logic a chance to respond, left the clearing. 

It was Sunday before he knew it, and Virgil was exhausted. All of his friends had noticed that he was more tense, more tired, more snappish -- he remembered muttering something about college admissions, which made sense since the letters were supposed to be coming in the next couple weeks, and they passed the mood change off as heightened anxiety. If Sleep noticed him picking up more shifts than ever, mowing lawns and doing whatever he could for money around town, he didn't say anything, and Virgil was grateful. Besides, Sleep himself was an insomniac -- he would just be a hypocrite.

Not to say Virgil had insomnia. More than anything, he wanted to fall onto his bed and sleep for a week. But he couldn’t, not yet.

He asked for the day off for both Sunday and Monday. His boss didn’t protest, telling him to go get some rest in a quiet tone. Sleep didn't make fun of him like usual, either, and there was no teasing him about going to see a boyfriend, only a quiet thumbs up.

The forest was quiet when he entered, a bag over his shoulder, and he shivered. It was disconcerting. Virgil had gotten used to noise, blasting music over his headphones as he worked, and then in lectures or with his loud friends every other moment. Faint birdsong, wind in the trees, dirt under the combat boots his gran had bought him two Christmases ago -- he wasn’t accustomed to them anymore. 

Perhaps that’s why Logic could sneak up on him so easily. 

“You look awful,” the faerie said bluntly from beside him, startling him enough that he almost tripped. He got lucky -- Logic reached out to steady him, concern shining in his strange, mismatched eyes. “Anxiety, you… you look worse than when I last saw you. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile. Judging from the look on Logic’s face, it wasn’t convincing. He patted the bag. “Look, I brought you clothes. Got a couple of outfits. And, bonus-” he reached into his coat, pulling out a hairbrush and the scissors his grandmother had used to use to cut Virgil’s own hair when he was young. “We’re finally going to make you presentable, Tarzan.”

“How dare you?” Logic exclaimed, but there was no heat behind his words, just a quiet underlying concern that Virgil almost hated more. “My hair is perfectly fine!”

“Listen, you look like a member of Aerosmith,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking we can put it in a bun. Or maybe cut it even shorter! I’m just saying, you’re cosplaying a rocker from the 80s.”

“My hair isn’t that messy, or that long!” the faerie protested, but he let Virgil lead him to an old tree stump and sat down, albeit reluctantly. “Not too drastic of a change, Anx, or I swear, I’ll turn yours pink.”

“Eh, I needed a new dye job, anyways,” Virgil shrugged, and narrowly dodged Logic’s attempt to swat at him. 

Half an hour and much swearing later, the disheveled hair was brushed through and tied into a bun. Logic looked unbelievably cute. It was not fair in the slightest -- Virgil’s dark gay heart wasn’t built for this kind of shit!

Alright Virge, stop checking out your friend. he snapped at himself mentally, handing Logic his phone to see his new look as he reached into the bag. He’s a faerie, firstly, and also, you’re doing this to save Mor. Haven’t got time for this, you disaster gay. 

“I will confess, this does suit me,” the faerie smiled, looking up at him. “You’re quite good at this.”

“My gran taught me,” he shrugged, before dumping the bag of clothes onto Logic’s lap. “Pick an outfit.”

“This is not the same kind of clothing you wear,” blinked the faerie, looking through it. 

“You’d hate wearing my clothes, and they wouldn’t even fit you,” he pointed out. “I brought you… I dunno, nerd stuff. Should make you look respectable and smart, or whatever -- we’re going to play into all the stereotypes, today. Besides, people ought to think of you like you are, not like some emo.”

“You think I’m smart?” Logic asked, staring up at him. 

“You’re the smartest person I know, dumbass,” Virgil told him. “If you don’t want to wear any of that, it’s fine, I packed a T-shirt and jeans, and you could borrow my hoodie, I just thought it was kind of more your style-”

“No,” the other smiled, and wow, Virgil was really gay. “You… yes. I would prefer to be thought of as smart or respectable, I just didn’t realize that was something that could be done.”

“Anything’s possible when you harness preconceived prejudices,” he grinned in response.

Virgil couldn’t mask his amazement when Logic whispered to the forest, convincing the plants to grow together to make him a screen to change behind (he’d always been fascinated by magic, even when they were kids), but forced himself to stare at his phone when the faerie went behind it. He’d read through the same Tumblr post four times without understanding a word of it when Logic said “Anxiety?”

He’d chosen a black polo and a dark indigo tie, a shade that perfectly offset both colors of his eyes, paired with dark pants and his rabbit-fur boots. He looked hot.

“You… you’re going to need different shoes,” Virgil choked out.

“Oh, yes, I suppose I will,” Logic nodded. “Here, I am going to attempt an illusion.” He ran his fingers over his ears, and the points vanished, rounding. The rest of his features softened, less harshly fey and more human. He paused at his eyes, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” the human asked, as they had yet to change. 

“Eyes are… harder to hide,” the faerie confessed. “For fey they are quite literally the windows to the soul. I believe I will require an external object near my face to mask my eyes to cast the spell on.” He bit his lip. “If we restyled my hair to have bangs a bit like yours, I could use that, but I do not wish to ruin your hard work.” 

Virgil frowned, thinking back, before snapping his fingers. “Princey carries around contact solution in his bag! I bet that’s how he’s doing it -- casts the illusions on the contacts, pops them into his eyes, good to go.” He grinned. “You, Logic, are lucky I am so blind.”

“Excuse me?” he frowned. “I think your vision is alright. I wouldn’t have let those scissors near me, otherwise.”

“I wear contacts too, most of the time; good excuse for my weird eyes, people who don’t know me assume they’re colored. Plus, glasses don’t match my aesthetic.”

“What aesthetic?” Virgil glared at him, and Logic snorted in laughter.

“Don’t be rude, nerd. Anyways, I carry around my spare pair of glasses just in case, because if I lose a contact I can’t see without them. I was going to have to switch over to them soon -- don’t have enough money to buy another box -- but I can lend them to you for now, and we can cast the spell on them. Will the prescription affect you?”

“Let me see them,” Logic frowned, and Virgil pulled his glasses case out of his coat, handing the frames over.

The faerie tried them on, frowning briefly before running his hand over them. The glass shimmered for a moment, and suddenly his eyes only had color in the iris, one a paler green than Virgil’s own, the other a dark blue. “There. And I can see through them fine -- just have to change my own ability to see to do so. Easy shapeshifting spell.”

Virgil smiled despite himself, looking at the different colors. “We’re still eye buddies, huh?”

“I wasn’t about to give that up,” Logic grinned as he rolled his new eyes. It was so much more obvious when he did that, now that he actually had evident whites and pupils. “How do I look?”

Virgil stepped back, passing an appraising glance over his friend. “Very human,” he decided. “Also, very nerdy, so welcome to the weird kid club, L.”

“Excellent,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, before his features adjusted into something more serious. “Are you sure you want to do this, Anxiety? For all we know, your Prince isn’t mine at all. I can think of no reason for him to disappear for so long into human society.”

“I can’t risk Morality getting hurt,” Virgil shook his head. “We’re doing this.”

“Alright,” Logic nodded, before his face split into a sly smile. “Now that I look human, though… There are some things you’ve mentioned in Torbrook I’ve always wanted to see.”

Virgil laughed despite himself. “Well, you should probably stay with me tonight, for appearances’ sake anyways… Okay, sure. Let’s go see the library, and then we can stop by my house.”

“How did you know?” the faerie asked, startled, as they started collecting the supplies Virgil had brought.

“Magic,” he grinned, and Logic punched him in the arm without any real force. 

“Ass.”

“Dork.”

Even as they laughed, fear’s cold claws sunk into Virgil’s heart. He swallowed. What if Prince was who they thought he was?

What would one of the most powerful fey in the Seelie Court do to the human and the Unseelie that exposed him? 

He glanced over at Logic. The faerie was beautiful when he smiled, even with his teeth disguised to look duller and more human. The sun streamed through the trees, lighting up his dark hair and contrasting the shadows painting fragile pictures across his skin. 

What if Prince hurts him? the little voice in the back of his mind whispered. 

No. He wouldn’t let that happen, Virgil decided, pushing the fear deep, deep down. Not to Logic, or Morality, or Sleep, or anyone he cared about. 

The world was so shitty, as it was. He wasn’t about to let the few people that made living in it bearable suffer.

“Anxiety?”

Logic’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see the faerie looking at him. “Yeah, L?”

“It’s going to be alright,” he promised, reaching out to hold Virgil’s hand. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Okay,” he nodded. And it helped, really, because he knew faeries could only tell the truth, or at least what they believed was the truth. Logic was the smartest person he’d ever met, and if he really believed that… 

Everything would be alright.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

An Act of Kindness - Leo x Isabella

Written for day 8 of the December choices prompt hosted by @choicesbyjade and @cora-nova​ Presents 

A lot of fluffiness, Christmas Spirit and realising how important family is at this time of year ❤️❤️

Leo wasn’t joking around when he told his wife to clear her schedule, within an hour and a half, he was already at the airport flying out to New York. “Your Majesty” a shocked desk operator gasped, “Please let me upgrade...” Leo gripped onto his hand luggage tighter and fixed his sunglasses, “Coach is fine... and please call me Leo...” nodding, the attendant swiped the card, “Yes Sir!” before bringing him down through the terminal gates separately and onto the waiting plane. The flight staff had been briefed as Leo began to grin, passing his credit card across to the waiting attendants, “Just keep the drinks cart coming for everyone, and we’ll have a good time!” He opened the compartment above his head, putting away his luggage and looked out onto the runway from his window seat away from the crowds who were now filling up the flight keeping himself pretty low key.

He closed his eyes for a while and all he could think about during the flight was what she said to him... ‘Quiero que me cojas’... Leo loved it when Isabella spoke dirty, even more so when she spoke dirty in Spanish - Isabella was more passionate, more exotic and more sensual when she spoke in her mother tongue. It ignited something inside him that could only be quelled by her - Leo was in bliss; until... he felt a sharp pull on his jacket sleeve. He woke up, slightly jumping with his sunglasses askew, looking around until he heard a little voice whispering, “‘Cuse me mister...” he looked down.

In the darkness of the flight, he could see a little girl beside him and what must have been her mother who was fast asleep. The little girl was uplit by the screen in front of her with little pink headphones on top of her head. Leo groaned slightly as he lifted his sunglasses on top of his head. A weary smile began to paint across his face, “Yes little lady... what’s up?” She began to look up at him with glazed over blue eyes, rubbing at them, “I’m firsty...” Leo reached up pressing the bell as he chuckled, “Coming right up...” as the attendant arrived, her eyes widened immediately apologising, “Sir... I am so sorry for the interruption...” Leo began to shake his head, “No... please do not apologise - she’s thirsty. Can we get some water, a Hennessy and black coffee?” Leo looked back down to her smiling, “Anything else?”

She shook her head and whilst they waited, Leo smiled contently; “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you little lady can I?” She quipped, “I am Elise... and I am 5!” holding out her hand towards him. Leo began to chuckle as he lowered her and his tray tables before placing his hand in his chest, “I’m Leo... it’s nice to meet ya! You are the same age as my girls...” Leo showed Elise his phone with pictures, “This is Sasha and this is Lia...” as the attendant returned, Leo opened the little bottle of water first before handing it to Elise and closed it when she was finished; then poured the Hennessy into the black coffee he ordered. It was like tar, but at least there was some level of alcohol to attempt to kill the taste.

With two hours left to go on the flight, Leo decided it wasn’t worth going back to sleep as Elise had no intention of going back to sleep either. He knew as a parent whatever sleep you could get, it was golden so he didn’t mind. They played games and Leo told her fascinating stories about dragons and the five kingdoms; stories of Princesses and Queens. Elise was fascinated and both of them laughed together quietly.

Elise’s mother groggily awoke hearing her daughters laughter, turning her attention towards Leo reopening the water  for Elise. Her eyes widened as she began to apologise, “Sir... I am...” until her eyes focused giving her a better view in the darkness, gasping at the realisation, “Your Majesty... I! Elise...” she pulled her daughter back, “...I am so sorry if she has been any trouble! Where did you?? Oh...” she began to blush as she hurriedly started to fumble through her purse, “How much do I owe you?” Leo chuckled warmly as he raised his hand, “No trouble at all... Elise is my little buddy! What brings you guys to New York?” Her mother sighed whilst her shoulders dropped, “Her grandfather lives in Brooklyn, so we go to visit each year for Christmas... he doesn’t... sorry...” she began to awkwardly smile, “... I shouldn’t burden you...”

Leo began to frown as he listened carefully to the woman, “I met someone whilst still in New York, and moved to Laurentia with them but as soon as I got pregnant - he left... so we try to make the best of what we can and look forward for this trip each year so Santa can bring us to see grandpa... and then we get back for New Years Day” Elise was completely oblivious to their conversation above her as she played with the interactive screen. Leo couldn’t help but feel for her; hell at one stage he was ready to leave Isabella in the same situation when he found out she was pregnant before they were married - that was something he never forgave himself for.

“You’re doing a great job...” Leo smiled, “...and she’s the same age as my two girls - I’d love for you both to come around some time... Sorry where are my manners...” he began to laugh, “I didn’t catch your name...” the young mother smiled warmly as she fixed her daughters braids, “Lauren...” “Lauren...” Leo repeated, “It’s been lovely to meet both of you...” ‘Please ensure you’re seatbelts are fastened as we are now descending... tables upright...’ Leo took another drink of his alcohol fuelled coffee, grimacing at the  bitter taste. Finally as they descended into the dark early morning of New York, Leo helped the two with their bags before reaching into his blue navy blazer removing a business card. He extended it to Lauren as he warmly smiled towards her, “Please... if there’s anything you need or even if it’s to arrange a play date - you’re always welcome...” He kneeled down onto the cabin floor and looked at Elise as he smiled, “Thank you for making this flight fun!”

As the little girl and her mother walked away, the flight attendant returned Leo’s credit card with the bill. With Christmas a week away, all Leo could think about was how happy and excited his daughters were when they saw their presents on Christmas morning but tonight’s encounter resonated with him - it wasn’t always about presents; Christmas is about family. As he walked through JFK at 1am, he called back to the Palace. “Jimena... I don’t care what the cost is... go and get it arranged. Let’s start something new...”

That Christmas Eve, homes in Laurentia were sent hampers from the King and Queen, toys included if they had children to be opened on Christmas Day that came from Santa. The Kingdom rejoiced as their families felt the warmth and kindness from their Monarchy and a new tradition was born. On New Years Day as Lauren and Elise arrived back to their apartment, Lauren sighed heavily as she struggled with her bags - pushing the door open with a shove. Her eyes opened wide as a wrapped box sat in her living room adorned with a bright red ribbon tied in a bow with a note and gift tag marked ‘To Lauren and Elise...’

Her neighbour popped their head around the opened front door as she smiled, “Sorry... there was a delivery and we thought it best to leave it inside!” Lauren looked dumbfounded as she opened the card,

‘Dear Lauren and Elise... we would like to thank you on behalf of my wife and I for your kindness and reminding me that this time of the year is for family! Santa has kindly asked that we help him out a little this year to make sure Elise had her present under the tree when she returned home after visiting her Grandfather! She is a credit to you.

We wish you a Happy Holiday

Leo and Isabella’

“Yes...” the neighbour responded “We all received a present this year from the King and Queen on Christmas Eve. It was wonderful!” Tears began to roll down her eyes as she quietly thanked the Leo, rubbing them away before Elise could see. Lauren proudly watched her daughter eagerly ripping the wrapping paper away, “Look mommy!! A doll house and dollies!” Who knew a simple act of kindness could be the start of something beautiful. The tradition was known in the Royal household as the ‘Elise Initiative’ making sure that families could celebrate Christmas no matter the circumstance.