#they do a sale or a extra point event right before a big drop

[nicki-flemings-curls]

My personal theory is the Disney mainline dolls are on sale bc they’re about to drop Moana. (Possibly a bigger princess drop, but definitely Moana)

I still think they’re gonna release her in the lead up to Moana 2, which is coming up quick but I don’t think Moana 2 merch has hit any retailers yet?

Anyway I’m just curious if it’ll only be Moana or if it’ll be a bigger drop. I’d love to see Mulan and Belle with her.

[bekaroth-reads]

Silco x Reader

[Okay, so this is my first time writing anything league of legends at all, and I haven’t written anything long in a good while, so please have mercy 🥺]

You had no idea that handing out free snacks to kids would ever get you where you were right at this moment. You ran a little bakery at the edge of The Lanes. There was still a bit between where your place was and the bridge was, but it was still out of the center of things. The idea getting a place here was so that you could maybe get some higher paying people from Piltover that might get a bit more than most people in Zaun would, and maybe be able to hop the bridge and get supplies if they were short on your side. Unfortunately, this plan didn’t work, because most people from Piltover wouldn’t set a single foot over the bridge and all of the things for sale over the bridge cost more than your rent did. So, that left you living in a small room above your shop that you were struggling to even pay for. It wasn’t that you weren’t getting any business, but it wasn’t enough to cover things. Most other people were just as bad off as you were. That being said, your main seller was bread; just plain bread. Most people didn’t have the extra money to buy treats very much. But, you always kept at least a few on hand to hand out to any kids that might stop by; nothing too big, just a few little cupcakes. You remembered what it was like being a kid and not having much, so you wanted to do your best to make at least one person’s day a bit better.

Just as things were looking the worst, you had a new kid that you hadn’t seen since you opened the shop. A little girl about ten or eleven came in one day and was looking around at things. You let her have her space after your intial greeting. She looked dirty, not that you were judging, but you knew that she must have been one her own at least for most of the day; most parents would have at least washed her face off at least once if they saw her. You weren’t suprised when her eyes landed on the plate of little cupcakes you had sitting there. “Hey, uh, how much for those?” She asked as she pointed to the confection in question. “Oh, you get one of those for free.” You smiled back at her as you lifted the little glass lid covering the plate so she could grab one. Her face lit up and she went to reach for it quicker than you could blink, but stopped herself before she actually touched it. She cleared her throat to and offered, “Are you sure? I can pay for it?” You shook your head and laughed a bit before pushing the plate closer to her. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Everyone get a free one if they want.” You could tell that she was a very high energy kid, but that there was someone in her life that was trying to teach her manners. She took a cupcake, but before you closed the lid she stopped you with an, “Um…”

You looked at her for a minute while she worked out what hse was going to say to you. Eventually she got it out. “Can I take another one for someone else? He’s at work all the time, so he wouldn’t be able to get here for his own.” You hoped that if it were someone that was at work that they weren’t a kid as well. The best you could figure was that he was her father or someone of the like seeing as she was out here by herself. Usually, you just handed the free stuff out to kids first, but seeing as it was at the end of the day and you hadn’t been that buisy, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to give out an extra. You gave a nod and she looked so excited that she was going to explode. “THANKS!” She blurted out before racing out the door. You walked to the door and watched her make her way down the street towards the center of town. “Hey!” she turned to look at you when you called. “If you’re going that way stay away from the Last Drop. That place is no good!” Her only response was to laugh. You weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but you hoped that she listened.

Since then your life was a lot more eventful. That girl, that you learned was named Jinx, kept returning to your shop, the promise of free food being something that she couldn’t resist. And, you also found out that apparently where ever it was her father worked was a restaurant of some kind, because she often bought almost every loaf of bread that you made when she came in to get her cupcake for the day. She was more than happy to let you know that the snack was more important to her than the bread that she was sent to get. You were happy to let her know that you thought of her as a good luck charm. “Even if I eat all your cupcakes?” She often questioned. “Even if you eat all of my cupcakes.” You would assure. That didn’t matter as much any more, seeing as you were now making money hand over fist now that you had a steady client in Jinx’s father.

Things took an even stranger turn this morning. You were just getting ready to open for the day, when you heard the door open. Sure, it was a bit earlier than you were planning to open, but only by a few minutes so you figured there was no harm. “Hello, how can I-“ You lost your will to speak when you saw who it was that walked through your door. It was Silco, the Eye of Zaun himself, along with whom you assumed was his bodyguard, a large woman that looked like she was more than willing to rip your head off. You knew that you were doing better than you used to be business-wise, but not to the point of getting the attention of the gang leaders, let alone the biggest one around. You waited for either one of them to say something, anything, but all you got was Silco giving a disapproving snort. “Certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. She made it seem like this was better than the Drop.” There was a list of people that have been in your shop over the past few weeks, and you were trying to think of anyone that could have not only been here, but have known Silco well enough to have a conversation as casual as suggesting a bakery. Your most loyal customer did come to mind, but there was no way that such a sweet, little girl could have-

“My Jinx thinks very highly of you.” The Eye of Zaun interrupted your thoughts and answered your question at the same time, all the while not looking at you in lieu of silently critiquing your shop. After looking around a bit more he gave another huff of disapproval to match the many others that he had let out. “This won’t do. Not in the slightest.” It was at this point that he turned to look at you fully. Silco gave a pause, almost like he was surprised by something, but it only lasted for a fraction of a moment so it must have been your imagination. “I will not have my child seen coming to such a run down place to get supplies for my club.” You wanted to point out that this was the lanes and that it was almost impossible for things to not be run down looking, but you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut. Not to mention that seeing him in person made you realize that he was a rather alluring man in his own certain way; and that voice of his hit your gut harder that that buff woman with him ever could. You just hoped to any deity that would listen that you weren’t actually physically blushing like it felt like you were.

Once again, Silco interrupted your inner turmoil. “We will have this place fixed up. Until then, you will come to work directly at the Last Drop. A fact that I’m certain our little Jinx will be overjoyed to hear.” There was plenty in what he said to keep your mind racing for hours, if not days. But, the one thing that it kept going back to was the phrase, “our little Jinx.” You knew logically he was just referring to the fact that the blue haired girl was very fond of both of you, but there was just some un-nameable, primal feeling that it stirred up in you. Something seemed to catch his eye, and he looked back to the woman. “Sevika, you go on ahead. I would like a private discussion with new partner here.” The woman started to do as he asked, but turned once she was at the door. “Are you sure, boss?” He gave her a nod. “Certainly, we must discuss the terns of our agreement. I’m a business man at heart, after all; not a total bully.” And, like with that she was gone leaving you alone with the man.

Your heart skipped a beat with every step that Silco took toward you. As much as you were one to scoff at the thought of love at first sight, you couldn’t help to admit that he seemed to have taken your heart and ran with it. Or was it the fact that one of the most powerful people to live in your time was standing in your shop basically telling you that you’re working for him now, whether you liked it or not. People did say that it was easy to mistake fear for attraction; nature cruelly making the instincts feeling similar. “So, what do you think of my proposition? I must admit you do your job better than most of my kitchen staff, not to mention the invaluable task of keeping the girl busy. Do we have a deal?” While there were alarm bells going off in your head about making a deal with Silco, you knew there wasn’t much of a choice, as well as another part of your mind that wanted to keep him around for some damnedable reason. “Uh, um, Of course.” You managed to get out. He gave an amused smirk at your stumbling, but stuck out his hand for you to shake it. While the gesture certainly surprised you, the last thing that you wanted to do was insult him, so you were quick to shake it.

There was something that short circuited your brain when you actually touched his hand. You couldn’t be sure if it was the reality of what you just agreed to setting in, or the fact he held your hand in his longer than you thought that he would, almost gently after the initial shake, but whatever it was it made your cheeks burn and your head grow foggy. “Are you feeling well?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in what he knew was fake curiosity. “Y-yes, sir. Sorry. You, uh… you caught me rather early this morning and I haven’t had time to eat anything.” You tried to cover for what was happening to you and ignore that he still had a hold of your hand. “Lying isn’t the best way to start this partnership, I’ll have you know.” Slico scolded, his grip tightening, his voice dropping a bit lower causing you to shiver. “I’m fairly certain that I know what’s really troubling you,” He used his hold on you to pull you to lean over the counter as he mimicked the movement on his side as well with a knowing smirk tugging his lips as he whispered in your ear, “and, it’s not low blood sugar.”

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and the boys find out Jin has been sneaking out at night. They decide to follow him to see where he’s going.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Track 14: Jin’s night out

I Don’t Wanna Dance-COIN

“I don’t wanna dance

I don’t know how”

“Yoongi-hyung!” Hoseok sang as he entered the living room. “Are you still working, cause Namjoon thinks you might be, and we wanted—” Yoongi shushed him. “Did you just—” Yoongi shushed him again, motioning at the lump on the couch. Hoseok stared until he realized the lump was Aviva curled up under a blanket. Hoseok grabbed Yoongi’s arm and pulled him out of the room. “What’s she doing here? Was that your hoodie she’s wearing? How is she so cute? She’s snoring, but she’s still cute? Why aren’t Namjoon’s snores cute? They’re just loud.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “She brought back Tae and Jimmie late last night, so she stayed over. Yes, that’s my hoodie. No idea. Yes. No idea, agreed.”

Hoseok tilted his head, trying to match all of Yoongi’s answers to the correct questions in his head. “Okay…” He said slowly. “Now that I’m caught up, it’s your turn. Jin-hyung is missing. The kids will be up and hungry soon. And as you know, Namjoon can only cook chicken breasts, and we don’t have any. I don’t feel like cooking, so we were wondering, if you’re not too sleep deprived, would you cook for us? But, if Avi’s here, she’s the better option for sure.”

“Hold on, back up.” Yoongi held his hand up. “What d’you mean hyung is missing?”

They heard what Yoongi was pretty sure was a Linkin Park song playing from the living room, and then Aviva came into the kitchen. Her hair was messy. Yoongi’s hoodie went down to her thighs, with the shorts peeking out underneath, and her bare legs on display under that.

“Hmmm?” She rubbed at her eyes, looking unusually vulnerable with that outfit and no glasses on. “What about Jin-oppa?”

“You’re still half asleep,” Yoongi said, resisting the urge to brush his fingers through her tousled hair. “What woke you? You still have some time before we need to get going…”

“Alarm went off,” she told him. “Have a few things to do before I go.” She squinted at Hoseok. “Hobi? Can you help me iron my clothes from yesterday? I have a meeting to go to, but ironing should help.”

“Aish, did you make a mess again, Avi?” He pulled her into a hug as she grumbled something about him being too warm. “Don’t worry, cutie, I’ll help you get ready.”

Yoongi glared at him. “Keep it clean, Jung Hoseok,” he warned.

After Hoseok helped iron her clothes and Aviva got dressed, she felt more awake. She got started on coffee and breakfast, worried at the news that Jin had been missing since last night.

Apparently, he had been acting strangely recently, at first bugging Hobi to practice whenever there was a spare moment, and then blowing him off when he tried to make some extra time.

“And he’s been going to bed real early too,” Jungkook put in, holding his bowl out for a rice refill. Aviva squinted at him, reminding herself to see if there was a bulk bag of rice on sale at the supermarket.

“Or I guess he’s been saying he’s going to bed and then actually sneaking out,” Jimin figured. “He must have been the creeper we saw sneaking around outside this morning.”

Aviva nodded slowly.

“So, Jiminie, Yoongi-oppa, and Jin-oppa haven’t been sleeping recently...”

Yoongi frowned. “I’ve been taking cat naps on the couch, you hypocrite.”

She waved her hand. “Whatever, it sounds like he’ll be back later in the morning… hopefully. So I can just talk to him tonight after my meeting.”

“But do you think he’s really gonna tell you the truth?” Hoseok wondered. “Jin-hyung is a tough nut to crack, surprisingly.”

“We could follow him when he goes out again tonight,” Jimin suggested.

“Ah! I’ve always wanted to do that!” Taehyung exclaimed, poking Jimin excitedly on the shoulder. “Like we’re spies!” Jimin swatted at him. Taehyung swatted back.

Aviva frowned. “That seems kind of invasive…”

“We’ve spent the last several years all sleeping in one bedroom together—the boundaries get blurred sometimes,” Yoongi admitted.

“I gathered that…” Aviva said, glancing at Jimin and Taehyung, trying not to imagine how they had both fit in that small shower together.

“Yeah...” Jimin giggled. “The first time I met Tae he was only wearing underwear.” Tae slapped him again. Jimin hit him back. Jungkook grabbed their wrists and sighed.

“And that night they both fell asleep latched onto me,” he complained.

“It’s a proven fact that it’s easier to sleep holding onto something... or someone,” Tae told him. He gave Aviva a pointed look.

“Hmmm.” Aviva ignored him, turning to Namjoon. “What do you think, Joon-ah? You’ve been awful quiet this morning…”

“I think Taehyungie should just get a teddy bear,” Namjoon grunted. Hoseok laughed.

Aviva frowned. “No, I meant about Jin-oppa...”

“Namjoon-ah hasn’t been sleeping much either,” Yoongi told her. “But unlike us, he can’t function without sleep.”

“I can!” Namjoon argued, standing up. “I just need an energy drink or some—” He tripped over his own feet, Aviva catching him without looking.

“Ugh. Joonie, maybe you should just take a nap.”

“This proves nothing,” he muttered into her shoulder. “I always trip.”

“That’s not something to be bragging about, Joonie,” Hoseok told him, clearly trying not to laugh again.

That night, they all hid around the side of the building. They saw Jin come out of the dorm, look around and then move down the path, hailing a taxi.

“Quick, noona, get your car and drive us after him,” Tae said, pulling on her arm.

“I couldn’t find parking around here, so I’m a couple blocks away,” she told him.

“Let’s get a taxi too then,” Namjoon suggested, a lot more cognizant after taking a nap like she’d suggested.

“Sure, why not? Let’s waste our budget on spying on our members,” Aviva muttered, sliding into the taxi with them. Namjoon was in the passenger seat up front, keeping a close eye on Jin’s taxi. The taxi driver gave them an odd look in the rearview mirror. Jimin was sitting on Tae’s lap, with Jungkook half on top of Yoongi and half on top of Aviva.

“Yeah, pretty sure this is illegal,” Yoongi said quietly, tapping his fingers against Jungkook’s leg. “Better save some room in the budget to bail us out of jail, manager. Ah, my parents are going to be so disappointed…” Jungkook squirmed. Yoongi gripped his arm. “Stop that.”

“Oh,” Aviva said, as they got out in front of the building Jin had gotten out at. “I recognize this place…”

“It’s the floor space we used to use before Big Hit finished renovating their practice rooms,” Hoseok recalled.

They followed Jin inside. “He really shouldn’t leave the door unlocked behind him,” Aviva thought. “Anybody could get in.”

“Uh-huh.” Yoongi shot her an amused look.

“There’s light on, and music playing,” Hoseok reported from the front of the group. Aviva sped up to walk alongside him. She and Hoseok carefully poked their heads around the open doorway. Aviva smiled slightly at the sight of Jin practicing the routine Hoseok had come up with for their debut.

“So what’s hyung doing?” Hoseok wondered, leaning on her.

“Ah! Hoseok, stop pushing!” Aviva hissed quietly at him, trying not to fall over.

“It’s not me,” Hoseok argued. “Jiminie is—”

Aviva fell into the room with Hoseok on top of her.

“What in the—!” Jin exclaimed. “A thief? I’m going to report—”

“Ugh, get off!” Aviva pushed Hoseok off of her and stood up. “Jin-oppa, it’s just us. We may be idiots, but we’re not thieves.”

“What? Manager-nim? Hoseok-ah? …Did you follow me?”

“Yeah, sorry, I tried to tell them not to,” Aviva said.

“You didn’t try very hard,” Hoseok said, brushing off his shirt. Aviva glared at him. “Anyway, Seokjin-hyung, have you been coming here to practice by yourself every night?”

“I feel like dancing comes so much harder for me… so I need the extra practice,” Jin said quietly. He pressed his hands together. “Can we keep this a secret between the three of us?”

“Ah…” Aviva said awkwardly, trying not to glance back at the door.

“Hyung!” Hoseok shouted. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be your personal tutor! Starting tomorrow—no! Starting right this second.”

“It’s fine, really.” Jin smiled gently at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No way! Be sincere or I won’t let go,” Hoseok said, grabbing onto his arm.

“Me too!” Namjoon said, entering the room and grabbing his other arm. “I’ll join you, hyung!”

“N-Namjoon-ah?” Jin stuttered. “How long have you been there?”

“I want to help too!” Jimin said, scurrying in. “Don’t leave me out!”

“What?” Jin’s eyes widened. “Jiminie’s here too?”

“We all came here together,” Aviva confessed. “We were worried about you…” The others came into the room, Jungkook smiling a little sheepishly, Taehyung humming cheerfully, and Yoongi yawning.

Jin’s ears went pink. “Aish, this is embarrassing.”

“Let’s practice together, hyung!” Namjoon said, still pulling on his arm.

“Mission complete!” Taehyung said, striking a pose.

“Okay, let’s take it from the top!” Hoseok said, his teacher voice switching on.

“Ugh, I want to go home and sleep,” Yoongi muttered.

“Me too,” Aviva agreed. “I miss Soonyoungie, and my bed. And clean clothes.”

“Your car is back by our place,” Yoongi reminded her. She groaned.

“Ah, that’s right,” Hoseok said. “Come on, manager, you should follow along with us. It’ll give you a better understanding of dance like you want, and your clothes are way past dirty anyway.”

Hoseok went over the easier parts of the routine with Jin and Tae, while Jimin took Jungkook through some of the more complex moves.

Although he had been one of the first to volunteer, Namjoon was also one of the first to drop out of the practice, suddenly struck by an idea for a new song.

Aviva gave him a few sheets from her notebook, and a pen, and he sat out in the hall, scribbling and rapping to himself.

Yoongi was sitting on the steps outside, the early morning quiet enough for him to record a few bars he’d thought of on his phone.

Aviva stopped at a nearby café to get them all breakfast, mourning the time she would have to spend budgeting to even things out for the rest of the month.

[thestraggletag]

Creature Instincts

A/N: Surprise, @nerdrumple! It is I, your Super Secret Santa that somehow managed to REMAIN super secret! I’m always stoked when that happens. It’s been loads of fun being your Santa, and it was super nice to write fic for someone who was written some of my favourite Rumbelle fics. Hope you like it!

Prompt: Locked-out, torrential downpour, hold.

Summary: Mr Gold cannot be accused of being a knight in shining armour, but when Belle French becomes a damsel in distress he cannot help to try and play the role, in spite of how ill-suited his nature makes him.

Rating: R for sure. There be sexy sex here, kids.

It was a relief to finally be home, after what felt like the longest day in the month. Rent day usually was, as it kept him out and about town all day, both collecting from those who reluctantly but diligently paid on time and those who thought they could evade him and thus get a reprieve. Very few chose alternative means of payment, and he was sure it was in part because most people enjoyed the notion of making him work for their rent money.

He looked up just before he closed his front door, noticing the grey, fat clouds that he had been running from most of the day. The air already smelled like rain, which for him meant hell on his ankle. That, coupled with the freezing temperature, had him more than happy for the comforts of his home.

His housekeeper had left the house warm and dry, as per his usual instructions, and for a moment or two he paused on the entryway, dropping his keys onto the bowl by the side table and simply enjoying the warmth as it seeped into his skin. Though he was used to the cold- and, to a certain extent, he enjoyed it- he could not deny he was a creature better suited for heat. 

Methodically, the motions so familiar that they were almost automatic, he shed his outer layers. First his thick wool coat, a shade of charcoal grey so dark most people thought it was black, and his red cashmere scarf. Then off came the gloves, suit jacket and vest. He took off his tie next, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt before removing his vest and reaching for his banyan, the damask silk showing a pattern of thistles in bloom. He limped upstairs to exchange his suit trousers and Oxfords for woollen lounge pants and thicker knit socks and loafers. 

It felt heavenly to be out of his customary suit and into more comfortable clothing, warm and dry in his home as the first drops of rain began to splash against the windows. He flexed his fingers, his elongated nails still a bit uncomfortable from having to wear gloves all day. As he filled the kettle with water for his tea he felt the scales on his neck ripple and begin to unfurl. It was the most unpleasant part of rent day, how he had to hide all day. It made him itchy and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a duty his nature would allow for him to delegate on others. 

As he waited for the water to boil he switched on the tablet he had left on the island, having read the paper on it in the morning. In spite of his claws it was easy for him to navigate around the display and hit the green facetime button, locating and clicking on the desired contact immediately.

“Hey, pop!”

Baden’s gruffy face appeared on the screen, hair a bit wild and beard looking like it could use a trim. ‘Fashionably scruffy’, he called it. Since he had accepted a video call he deduced Emma was not home yet. He had remembered correctly about her extra shift, then.

“Hi, son. How’s life in the big city?”

He moved around the kitchen as Bae filled him in on any news, mainly talking about Henry’s latest antics and his newest clients. He was a bit of a hot-shot graphic designer, much sought after. 

“And how’s life in Storybrooke, dad? Still keeping that cavernous Queen Anne, I see. That’s too much house for yourself, pop.”

“It’s not just for me. It’s also for you, Henry and Emma. For when you visit.”

Bae rolled his eyes.

“We only stay over a few weeks every year. What about the rest of the time, pop? Don’t you get lonely?”

It was an old worry of Bae’s, one he tried hard to scoff away every time he brought it up. His son seemed to give up rather easily, asking instead after his hoard.

“Which one do you mean?”

He had several, of course. It was, after all, part of his nature.

“All of them. It’s been a while since I’ve received a full report.”

“Well, the property portfolio is looking good. Market’s been appreciating, as expected given the development of the town. I attended three very productive state sales, so the antiques are looking good. Might even be able to part with one or two of my previously not-for-sale vases. I’ve also managed to find a treasure-trove of jewellery. Owner inherited them from his mother, thought they were costume pieces. I could smell right away he was wrong.”

He smiled, feeling the scales around his neck flash in and out of sight, a golden glint in his eyes, a sure sign he was pleased. The pieces would be a joy to restore and clean, and the thought of how they would shine brought a smile to his face.

“God, you’re such a stereotype sometimes.” Bae shook his head. “Aaaand… how’s the library? Any progress on that front?”

The younger man tried not to waggle his eyebrows suggestively, going for a light-hearted tone as he monitored his father’s reaction. There was no mistaking the way his scales flared up around his neck, as if fluffing up, turning a darker shade of gold than what was usual. It was a minute reaction, there one moment and gone the next, but it was a very telling one, especially for someone as experienced in things as Bae was.

“N-no, not really. Regina, she’s being… unreasonable. Stubborn. It’s a bad year to acquire real estate, in any case, what with the-”

“And how’s the librarian, pop?”

There was a bigger ripple then, crossing the entirety of his face, scales turning so dark they almost looked black. The younger man snickered, trying to be subtle about it. 

“Be- Miss French is fine. And none of your concern, boy.”

“Did she recover from that nasty fall the other day?”

Bae tried to valiantly pretend he didn’t notice her father flex his claws unconsciously, and he studiously kept his mouth shut about the glazed look in his eyes too. He had been thrilled when his father first started to mention the woman, over a year ago. A new addition to Storybrooke, at the time, and a sore spot for his father, who had fought to acquire the library only to have Regina insist on reopening it instead, just to spite him. Miss French was, at first, an unwitting pawn of the mayor, but later grew to be a nuisance in her own right. Always fighting with his pop over city funds, organising “noisy library events” that disturbed him while he restored some antique or the other at his shop and absolutely refusing to cower before him like everyone else in town. 

At some point he had begun to catch on to the fact that his father was constantly mentioning the librarian, and it wasn’t always to deliver the scathing insults he likely thought he was dishing out. He called her “obnoxiously sweet” and rambled on and on about how she thought she could get anything by batting her long lashes and speaking in her lilting Australian drawl. He had had to endure entire conversations where he talked at length about a five minute exchange between them, to the point that even little Henry had cottoned on to the fact that his grandpa had a crush. 

He denied it, of course. Dismissed every single one of Bae’s attempts at discussing the matter and even made a conscious effort to try and stop mentioning Belle French. Didn’t exactly work out all that much, though. Specially after a close encounter, like last week, when his father managed to barge into the library, intending on getting some very urgent books and getting out with as minimal human interaction as possible, only to unwittingly catch the librarian as one of her too-high heels slipped from the step she was perched on and she tumbled off the ladder. His father had called him that night with a dazed look on his face, the pupils of his eyes blown wide as he recounted the event, his scales rippling out completely. Bae knew that look, though he had only seen his father direct it at objects before. A covetous look, possessive. 

He understood then why his father was reluctant to even admit to a crush, much less something more serious. It was easy, and dangerous, for his natural tendency towards greed to permeate his relationships with humans, which meant he made a conscious effort to keep people at bay, not only because he could not trust people with his secret but also because he could not trust himself to form attachments that were acceptable to humans, that would not lead to them feeling suffocated and imprisoned.

It had been a point of contention between him and his pop, he could not deny it, back when the issue of college had come up. It had led to heated debates and pleas from his father that he was trying, he was doing his best to let go, but it was hard in a way Bae would never understand. He cringed every time he remembered what he had said in anger.

“Right, because I’m not like you. I’m not your son.”

It had been, until then, an unspoken truth they both knew. That Bae was not biologically his. A hard thing to ignore, taking into account their different nature. It had taken time and effort for him to believe his pop when he said he was his son in any way that mattered. Which, of course, had eventually led to the growing pains of their eventual separation, and his father learning to deal with parting with something he held dear. As much as it had been a chore it had truly helped alleviate some of Bae’s still-latent fears about his father’s affection.

“Miss French is fine, your suspicious concern over her is misplaced.”

Bae, blessedly, let the matter drop, and the conversation was turned instead to Henry’s latest passion, now that his dinosaur phase was fully behind him. By the time they hung up he was already elbow-deep into dinner preparations- heating up a beef stew he had prepared last night. Most of his neck and face were showing scales, as were his arms and hands. Once upon a time, when he’d been young, he had not been able to keep his true form hidden for more than a couple of hours, and it required all of his concentration. It had meant living in the gutter while out on the streets and keeping to shadowy corners and dark alleyways. After his aunties had taken him in it had meant being homeschooled, and dedicating a great portion of his waking hours practising keeping pink, soft skin and dull, brown eyes. Now he could hardly recall ever having such little control, but he still found it uncomfortable and painful to keep up the facade for long periods of time, particularly when his emotions were running high. And though that was not usually the case rent day did like to try his patience. That’s usually why after rent day he prepared himself something full of meat and drank a bottle of a nice red of his choice while enjoying a book or a movie. He had a documentary set up for later that night, a riveting two-hour exploration of traditional kimono-making in Japan. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

Just as he was about to heat up dinner there was a knock on the door. His eyes flashed in displeasure before he shook himself in an effort to try to dispel the scales, hide them under whatever bit of skin he could conjure up. He was tired, hungry and not in the mood for anything other than the barest form of human interaction. With that in mind he put on his fiercest scold, shuffled to the door and opened it wide, ready to make whoever was on the other side regret being born.

“Oh, Mr Gold, you’re home!”

The Australian drawl was unmistakable, and it stopped him from actually verbalizing the genteel-yet-direct death threat he’d conjured up in his head a second earlier. Belle French was, indeed, on his front porch, shivering in her drenched peacoat, tights and boots, hair plastered to her face and eyes wide, wary. It was a look he often saw in most of the townspeople when they looked at him, but he’d never seen it before in Miss French. Afraid of nothing, she’d seemed to be, even an old dragon such as himself.

“Miss French, what on Earth are you doing out at this hour and in this weather?”

It didn’t even cross his mind to demand to know why she had knocked on his front door at all.

“Well, I was out in the woods, helping Dr Hopper get a hold of Pongo- you know how he likes to chase rabbits sometimes- and on my way home I realised I had forgotten my keys. I was about to call Ruby, who has the spare set, but I remembered she was out of town on a date. She would totally come if I call her but she’s been so looking forward to her first date with Dorothy that it would be a shame to interrupt her. I was gonna walk over to Granny’s when it started raining and I saw the light on at your house and thought perhaps I could come in and wait it out a little?”

She spoke in a rushed voice, teeth chattering and trying to look as if she wasn’t freezing to death. Her lips were tinged with blue, and her skin looked pale, almost translucent, in the dim light of his porch. He was about to awkwardly invite her in- perhaps to offer her a cup of tea and a ride home- when a bolt of lightning split the sky, followed a second later by a crack of thunder. In the blink of an eye she was in his arms, trembling like a leaf and holding onto the lapels of his banyan. He struggled to contain his reaction, to keep his human mask in check even as he registered how soft she was, and how she smelt like burnt caramel and vanilla, something he had only once managed to scent before, when she had fallen in the library.

“Miss French?”

He counted himself lucky that his voice, though hoarse and thick, still sounded distinctively human, and that he could talk without breathing out too much smoke. It was all about the small victories.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Gold, it’s just that… Well, I have this thing about thunder…”

By the time she detached herself from him, mouth curved in a tremulous smile, he was fully in control of himself, and also completely aware that he would not be able to keep his cool when Bae mentioned the librarian during their next call.

“Completely understandable, Miss French. I detest the rain myself. Do come in, you’re drenched.”

He ushered her in, letting her linger in the foyer, removing her coat and shoes while he looked for a towel in the linen closet next to the laundry. She wrapped it around herself, following him into the kitchen, self-conscious about dripping water on his hardwood floors. 

“Let me fix you a cup of tea. You need some warmth in you.”

The process of preparing a cup of tea was familiar and comforting enough to help quell the last bit of nerves at the idea of Belle French in his home, his lair, where all his hoarded treasure was. His finest antiques, lovingly restored to perfection, his favourite pieces of art, his most prized objects. The house itself was part of his hoard, the antique Queen Anne outfitted with beautiful crown moldings and other unique details. 

The moment he started to crave something he imagined how it would fit in his home, where he would place the object, and whether it would look right amidst his already established hoard. So he had pointedly and purposefully avoided even the briefest daydream of Belle French inside his home. Hadn’t allowed himself to entertain the idea at all, knowing that way lay madness. He had been right, of course, and it was patently obvious as he snuck glances at Belle, perched atop one of the stools surrounding his kitchen isle. The familiar itch, to take and keep, travelled down his spine, making his fingers twitch and almost causing him to spill scalding water all over himself. Wouldn’t have done any actual damage, but he would’ve had to pretend to be hurt, and he could not trust himself to do a good job of it at the moment. 

She took the cup from him with a grateful smile and he watched her as she poured a teaspoon of honey into it, leaving the milk and sugar untouched. He secreted the information away, as useless to him as it was precious. It spoke of a certain domestic intimacy that he found himself covetting deeply. To be expected, given his nature. He remembered doing the same with Bae, tucking away the bits and pieces of useless trivia that most people would not find valuable or interesting, but that few people would ever get to know about Bae, like how he liked to take hour-long showers and disliked chunky peanut butter.

“This orange blossom honey is lovely. Can’t say I’ve seen it at the local store.”

He got it from New York, from a specialised tea store Bae had taken him to a few years back.

“It pairs well with Earl Grey.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to promise her a case full of the stuff, but he pushed to sudden urge down, unhappy with that line of thought. It was common for him to shower those he had an interest in with things they might take a fancy too. It was in his nature, but he had learnt to curve the impulse, to a certain extent- Bae’s epic comic book collection being his last big failure. It did help that he tended to care about very few people, partly as a sort of defence mechanism. Clearly it wasn’t working as well, given that Belle French had managed to capture him so.

“I’m so grateful for your hospitality, but I see I’ve caught you in the middle of dinner preparations. I don’t wish to bother Ruby on her date, but I’m sure Granny would let me wait for her at the diner. I’ll call Leroy, he’ll give me a ride there.”

His relief at the perspective of being left alone, free to finally shift into a more comfortable form in peace, battled with the surprising cold wash of disappointment at the idea that she’d be gone in a matter of minutes. He was about to offer to drive her himself- Leroy’s truck, after all, was hardly a reliable method of transportation, when the lights flickered once, twice, and then went out completely.

“Oh, bugger.”

He counted to ten before he heard the generator kick in, the lights coming back on. He looked out the kitchen window, realising there were no streetlights. Everything was pitch black outside, obscured further by the heavy rain. Certainly not the ideal conditions for driving.

“Is it that bad?”

He startled, having not realised Miss French had made her way to the window as well, close enough to be uncomfortably thrilling. He saw her biting her lip, obviously realising that calling anyone for a ride was out of the question but unwilling to impose herself on him any further.

“Certainly no weather to be driving in. I must insist you stay until the lights come back on or the rain lets up enough.”

The sheer dread at the idea of having to maintain his human appearance mixed with the heady excitement of having Belle French in his home for an extended period of time. It made him both nauseated and exhilarated, a rather unsettling combination.

The sheer relief in her face settled his mood somewhat. While he ushered her into the downstairs bathroom and went to look for clothes that could fit her- there was no question of her staying in her wet things- he gave himself a pep talk, attempting to bolster his confidence. He was an old creature, he had certainly endured high-stress situations where he had managed to hold on to his control for longer. He could certainly make it through an evening with Belle French without giving himself away.

By the time he had dinner ready he was fully convinced of the success of the evening. He focused on filling two bowls, trying not to linger on the fact that he had chosen to use his Royal Warwick dinnerware set, the stew looking a bit plain surrounded by the fanciful rose designs of traditional Scottish landscapes. 

“Oh, that smells heavenly.”

He turned around, sheer instinct keeping him from dropping the plates in his hands at the sight of Belle fucking French wearing one of his shirts- why had he picked his favourite deep blue one?- and a pair of tights, his already oversized cashmere cardigan practically drowning her, making her look small and frail. He should have known, should have tried to contemplate the reaction he might have to someone he craved dressed in things he owned, things full of his scent. 

“Oh, let me help with that.”

She took the plates out of his hands, being nice enough not to comment on the absolutely idiotic look on his face. He gestured for her to skip his rather ornate dining room table, ushering her instead to the living room. There was a couch and a divan facing a coffee table, as well as a large carved armoire that hid a flat screen TV. To the side there was a fireplace, which he had been quick to light while Belle had been in the bathroom, unwilling to have to pretend to make fire the human way. 

“It costs too much to heat the house, so it’s best to resort to more traditional methods and save the generator for the rest. There isn’t a fireplace in the dining room, so I thought we’d be more comfortable here.”

He settled on one side of the couch, leaving the one closest to the fire for her. She still looked somewhat chilled, even though her lips had lost their blue tint and her cheeks were looking decidedly rosier. He gathered a throw from the nearby divan and wordlessly left it near her, trying not to preen in scaly satisfaction when he saw her unfurl the fabric over her feet, generously leaving half of it for his use. He wouldn’t presume to take her up on her offer, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless. Wordlessly he went to pick a nice bottle of Malbec and a couple of glasses, feeling that as risky as the alcohol was for his self-control it would help his nerves and help him warm up till the fire could properly heat the room. Belle accepted her glass with a charming smile, making a pleased hum with the first sip that had him slapping a hand against the raised scales on the side of his neck. 

They ate in companionable silence, broken by small comments from Belle about the stew- Guinness and beef, a personal favourite of his, with a smokey touch of bacon for added flavour- and questions about the many antiques he had sprinkled around. There was little rhyme or reason to his collection, aside from the price tag assigned to each piece, but just because something was considered expensive did not mean it caught his fancy enough to wish to keep it. 

“It’s like me and shoes. I adore them, but not every gorgeous pair of Louboutins I see catch my fancy.”

He had noticed her extensive shoe collection. At first because they were obviously expensive and he could smell it but later because they became a central quirk of Belle he wanted to learn more of. It had always bothered him, on the back of his mind, like an itch, the thought of how she paid for them. Her clothing was fine but either second-handed or from outlet stores, and everything else about her spoke of frugality. Her shoes, on the other hand, were decadent, and not just because of how they made her legs look. Her stockings too, always silk and never nylon. Very expensive, all around. Too expensive for a librarian.

“You’re right.” He flushed, realising he had said the last part out loud. “My other passion is books. I have… so many books. They quietly take over every living space I’ve ever had. I was raised by my dad, who was a florist, so there was never a lot of money for books. I became used to buying books in thrift stores and second-hand bookstores. And I discovered from a young age that I have a nose for rare books. Books that may not look valuable but are. So I’ve been able to turn my hobby into a profitable source of income. I keep a few rare editions that I like, but I am fonder of turning one book into ten than hoarding just the one book. So I sell them and buy books, shoes and occasionally some nice lingerie.”

He choked on what had been a nice sip of Catena Zapata, the alcohol burning his nostrils in an altogether different sensation to the usual one. He blessed the low light for hiding the way his fingers turned distinctively claw-like, unable to hold the illusion of soft pink fingers. He covered his shaky right hand with his left, which looked a wee bit better.

Thankfully Miss French was not looking at him, having apparently also realised what she had said. Both her hands were over her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked at her own glass of wine- the third one, if he was remembering correctly- in a faintly-accusatory manner.

“In my defence that’s the yummiest wine I’ve ever tasted.”

He shouldn’t have found the word “yummy” erotic, but there was something about Belle French’s accent wrapping around the word and the images it conjured that… distracted him.

“Yeah, well… Argies don’t fuck around with Malbec.”

He thought for a second he might have come off as pretentious, but Belle laughed, the tension from her shopping confession fading away as she turned her attention back to the stew.

“These are beautiful plates, by the way. Lovely pattern, and they have a weight to them that’s very pleasant.”

He cradled his own empty bowl protectively.

“Yes, well, they aren’t exactly the finest china. My aunties had part of the set, my Auntie Isla bought it for my Auntie Wyn for their tenth anniversary. After they died I spent many years completing the set, something they had always talked about doing.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Belle smile.

“My mom loved Victoria Holt books. It was one of the few things my father ever told me about her. Gave me her small collection and I set out to find the ones that were missing. I’m still missing a few she wrote under different aliases, but I got a few leads I’m hoping pan out. I get the impulse.”

The comment gave him pause, a spark of something flickering on the edges of his brain. But he pushed it aside, busying himself with picking up the plates and taking them to the kitchen, if only to give his overworked control a bit of a break. He was practically itching all over, skin buzzing in a way that was partly due to exhaustion and partly excitement. The creature in him was dying to claw its way out, desirous to wrap itself snug around Belle French and keep her there. The dragon had always taken an interest in her, before the man, even. Had scented her even before he’d ever laid eyes on her. But he hadn’t much noticed the fixation till he himself had begun to notice Miss French. The creature had rumbled in approval, practically gleeful, and since then he’d had to fight his own growing attraction to the librarian and whatever other baser instincts his nature brought about. Now, in the safety of its lair, with the object of its fixation surrounded by the carefully chosen objects of its hoard, the creature roared to be let out, and he was afraid to even consider what for. Nothing wholesome, certainly.

Debating on whether more wine would damper his instincts or his remaining common sense he picked up another bottle of Malbec- Achával Ferrer this time- and a box of chocolate truffles he had been saving for rent day specifically. No reason why he couldn’t share a few, it was the hospitable thing to do.

He tried not to preen when he heard Belle’s pleased hum at the sight of the chocolate and the wine, turning his head just so to hide the darkening of his scales around his ears, a blush-like response. 

“I checked outside and things seem to be much the same, so I texted Emma, who’s been in touch with the electric company as the town sheriff. Power’s supposed to be sorted out in a couple of hours, though she didn’t sound like she fully believed it.”

Well, fuck. Two fucking hours? He wouldn’t make it. He already felt like he was about to spontaneously combust, his grasp of his human self paper thin at best. On the other hand sending Miss French out into the darkness of the night, while it rained, was out of the question. And the evening, so far, was so… pleasant. Intimate and soft and everything he had been denying himself but had secretly desired for the longest time. There was a kinship building. Miss French made him feel nervous, yes, and tightly-wound, but also, at the same time, at ease. Safe.

“Would you be interested in watching a documentary about kimono making?”

He could not imagine posing such a question to anyone else with an honest expectation of interest. Even Bae, whom he loved and who loved him in return, would at best politely decline.

“Sounds amazing. Count me in.”

The documentary was riveting for its careful and thorough exploration of Japanese craftsmanship, with an emphasis on the dying and printing of the kimonos as well as the differences in kimono styles depending on age, marital status and time of the year. Not that Gold was paying attention to any of it, as much as it all seemed right up his alley. Somehow, during the first ten minutes of the documentary- the only ones he would later be able to recall- they had drifted closer in the couch, with Belle eventually resting her head against his shoulder, cuddling close for warmth and comfort.

The warmth he could agree with, the comfort was more of a relative thing. As good as the weight and feel of Belle was against his side- human contact was a luxury for him- it made the itch all the more unbearable, and halfway through a fascinating scene about the process of stamping patterns into kimono fabrics he felt the scales around his neck and hands unfurl completely, resisting any and all attempt to retract. He had to console himself with the fact that the only light in the room was coming from the now dwindling fire, and that the high collar of his banyan and the cashmere throw around their laps was covering most of him. Surely as long as he did not call attention to the changes they would not be all that visible.

He almost had a heart attack when he felt the tip of Belle’s nose brush against the side of his neck. She had to feel it, the decidedly non-human texture, the slight roughness of the scales, but she made no comment, which left him free to pause his relentless anxiety about her discovering his nature and give free reign to his relentless anxiety at her close proximity. She smelled… divinely, and the feel of her made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach in a way that felt too good. It was nerve-wracking in a toe-curling sort of well he seldom experienced and he was shocked at how good it felt, considering how much he liked always being in control of any given situation. Growing up the way he had had forced him to toughen up, learn to be the predator instead of the prey. He had spent years growing into his nature, so to speak, learning to both control and embrace the creature that he was to the point that there was little that could perturb him. Not Mayor Mills, with all her power over the town, not some of the bigger, stronger people who rented from him and thought at first that they could push around their smaller, older landlord and not the ruthless business sharks he made deals with day in and day out. And yet one small, unassuming woman could bring him to his knees. It was irrational. It was worrisome. It was-

Arousing.

Next to him Belle moved, standing up and stretching languidly. He looked at the television, noticing the screen was back to the USB menu.

“That was a lovely documentary, made me feel like I was right there in Japan, soaking in the culture and the air. It’s why I love documentaries, they allow me to travel on a budget, so to speak.”

She moved around the room slowly, tentatively reaching out to touch a figurine or explore a paperweight. 

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to your shop, for the same reason. You seem to have so many fascinating things. But your hours are the same as the library’s, so I haven’t had any luck.”

He told himself he was imagining the flirty tone in her voice, surely her accent was just so pretty everything sounded that way.

“I didn’t know you brought your work home so much, Mr Gold.” Rowan, he thought, call me Rowan. “Where’s this figurine from?”

She lightly touched the top of a Lladro figurine depicting a ballerina stretching before practice. Haltingly, he told her the story behind it, how he had found it at a yard sale for five bucks, sold by the greedy sons of a once-wealthy widow that had died a couple of days before. The whelps hadn’t waited till the funeral to try and get their money’s worth out of their inheritance. The figurine was worth just shy of five hundred dollars, in today’s market.

“What a thrill it must have been, to snatch up such a price.”

Yes, the creature inside him whispered, seemingly thinking less about the little ballerina and more about the flesh-and-blood woman in front of them. He closed his eyes, but it only made the scent of her more prominent in his mind. This was utter madness.

“What about this one?”

They spent what felt like hours in such a way, Belle pointing at several objects that caught her fancy and God struggling to somehow relate their story while attempting to ignore how she practically fondled his hoard. The creature did not take its eyes off her, utterly entranced. The fierce dragon captured by the fair maiden, a modern twist to the story. Every now and then she’d find something she particularly enjoyed and she would hum or make low approving noises, which was slowly but surely making him go mad.

He stood up on shaky legs, going over to the fireplace supposedly to add a log and stoke the fire. In reality he was trying to stop staring at her, in the vague hope that it would bring him some semblance of control.

“You have a beautiful home, Mr Gold. So big, and so full of things.” She sounded closer than he expected. “But so empty of people. It feels a bit… lonely.”

He could see her in his peripheral vision, but kept his head low and eyes on the fire, which allowed his hair to hide his face. Otherwise she would surely notice the deep gold-green scales around his eyes, and the unnatural glow of his irises. 

“Yes, well… I’m a difficult man to love.”

He hoped she would attribute the strange hoarseness of his voice to his thickened accent. He thought about Milah, and Cora, and the other handful of women he’d ever been with, thought about how careful he had had to be to avoid hurting them, how unsatisfied they had been by what they considered his complete lack of passion. That, more than protecting his secret, had made him swear off human contact and affection. It never paid off in the end, and he wasn’t willing to put himself out there for little to no reward.

“Doesn’t feel that way to me.”

He turned his head slightly to find her looking at him from beneath her lashes. The scent of her seemed stronger and sweeter and that, along with the soothing warmth of the fire, was making it hard to think. The creature inside him was urging him to take. Just one kiss, one fleeting brush of the lips, one small taste. And, surely, he had followed that impulse before. If it gave it something to treasure, however little, it might quiet down. There was no harm in just a kiss.

He moved quickly, swallowing the sound of surprise Belle made as his lips slanted across hers with more pressure than he intended. Relief and arousal raced down his spine, urging him to pull her closer, to bury himself completely in her. Idly, as he cupped the back of her head and tilted her head just so, he wondered how he had been able to resist for so long, and why. It seemed both impossible and pointless now, with Belle’s fingers sinking into his hair, pulling at the strands in a way that he did not know until then he found arousing.

Belle was surprisingly strong, and delightfully feisty. She seemed determined to get boss him around with tugs on his hair and his arms, her hands shoving at his shoulders until he was sitting down on the couch- how had they moved there?- and he had a lapful of librarian. The creature was playfully competitive, encouraging him to roughhouse, to nip and bite and wrestle for control. It was nothing like any of his previous sexual encounters, there was some sort of animalistic, playfully violent aspect to it that was foreign to him but felt familiar somehow, instinctual. He tried, between toe-curling brushes of Belle’s tongue against his, to remember how soft and fragile she was. Human and therefore delicate. He needed to be careful, needed to get a hold of himself and go slow, and soft and-

‘Fuck, did she just bite me?’

He growled in warning when she tried to rip his banyan open, wrestling to trap her arms against her sides and tumbling out of the couch and into the shaggy rug in front of the fire. Beneath him Belle chuckled, a low, deep sound that went straight to his cock. Fuck, but she was perfect, writhing beneath him, fighting to regain the upper hand even as she attacked his neck with her mouth, niping at whatever exposed bit of skin she could get to. Needing to touch her in return he blindly reached inside the shirt and cardigan he wore, tracing the ridges of his spine, feeling her skin hot and slick beneath his fingertips. It was then that she found a particularly-sensitive point between his neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth into it with such force that he practically roared, raking his nails down her back. She gasped, arching up against him before a shred of common sense filtered back into his addled brain, freezing him in place. 

Fuck. He had hurt her. He had been so fucking careless he had forgotten his sharp claws and how easily they could cut through human skin. He didn’t fight her when she flipped them over, pinning him down like the fucking beast he was. They were close enough to the fire that he now realised she had to be able to see it all, the eyes, the scales, the sharpened teeth. The utter inhumanity of it, out in all its ugly glory. He fumbled for an apology, hating himself for still feeling extremely aroused after hurting her. She was probably scared to death, he needed to fucking think and try and say something to reassure her, to make her see he wasn’t going to hurt-

“Hey.”

Belle’s voice sounded low, no hint of trepidation in it. One of her hands combed the hair away from his face, turning his head so he would look up at her. It was then that he noticed her eyes… they were glowing. Bright blue, an almost electric colour, with the barest touch of silver. He looked beyond, into the pale skin of her face and arms, bared by his frenzied undressing. The skin had a strange shine to it, and when he focused he could see the small, sleek scales, so pale they were easily overlooked, except that their opalescent nature made them reflect the light from the fire in a myriad of different shades, like an opal. Everything felt, at once, familiar and wholly strange, so similar and yet so different from his own appearance.

‘Like us. Told you.’ The creature purred from inside him, smug and pleased. ‘Smells right. Like mate.’

He inhaled, noticing her burnt caramel smell was more pronounced and sweeter, not to mention coming mostly from within her soft thighs. Fuck, how had he not seen it before? He had never met another like him, not up close and personal. He had heard rumours of others, had read stories, but his had been a solitary life. For all he knew he was the only one like him in Maine, or even the United States. Fuck, the whole world. And it turned out he wasn’t even the only one like him in Storybrooke. And the creature had known by scent and instinct alone. 

A new sort of desperation grew in him. He wanted to see, he needed to see. Fully unsheathing his claws, now that he wasn’t afraid to be discovered or to hurt her, he shredded what was left of his shirt on her, uncovering more of her glorious torso to his greedy eyes. His eyes took in her delicate scaled waist and the opalescent reflections the light made on her breasts, where the scales seemed to be softer, almost feathery. He watched in enraptured fascination as a pale lavender blush spread down her torso and across the high points of her cheeks. 

Fuck, she was perfect. Delicate and beautiful and a match for him in every way. There was no need to pretend, or hide, or go slow and soft. The creature inside him agreed in a gleeful hiss. He buried his head on the crook of her shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste her scales, marvelling at the feel of them. Not rough at all, but rather pleasantly slippery and hot. He rubbed his head against her neck and shoulder, purring at the feel of it.

“Gold, please.”

She fidgeted above him, aroused and bothered by his seemingly-stupified state.

“Rowan.” He growled his name against her skin, voice thick and barely understandable, pitched too low to be human. “Call me Rowan.”

When she whispered his name in a keen, needy wail it was as if something snapped inside him. He pounced, tackling her to the grown and taking advantage of her surprised gasp to kiss her open mouth, letting his tongue trace the sharp points of her teeth and feel her raspy tongue. His claws made short work of her lovely leggings, and he would have felt a small stab of guilt at destroying them if Belle hadn’t proceeded to practically shred his own pants. He lost the rest of his clothing in the tousle that followed. It wasn’t the way he had ever understood sex to be like but it felt right, instinctual, to wrestle on the hardwood floor, nipping and scratching and biting as they took turns pinning each other down.

Slowly, naturally, a rhythm built between them, everything getting slower and more intense. Claws dragged deeper against skin, teeth dug harder against flesh and the air grew hot between them, smelling pleasantly of burnt caramel and woodsmoke. He mouthed at every bit of skin he could reach, taking special care to map as much of her breasts as she would allow, taking care to notice when she made needy little whimpers or when her scent spiked, indicating her pleasure.

“Enough.” Belle sunk her nails deep into the scales of his shoulder, hurting in the best possible way. “Fuck me, Rowan.”

He didn’t know if it was the words or the commanding tone that made him lose his mind but in the blink of an eye he was pinning her to the ground, hands holding her wrists above her head. He took a quick moment to try to commit the moment to memory before instinct completely took over and he thrust deep into her. She arched, tight as a bowstring, cunt tightening around his cock in a vice grip that had him almost spilling himself then and there. No human woman had ever felt this hot and good, and had he known it could feel like that he would have never been able to orgasm with a human partner. 

When he finally had himself under some semblance of control he began to thrust, with little finesse but all the pent-up passion he had. It was brutal but she took it all, reciprocating his movements and begging him to go faster, harder. Pleasure built up to an almost painful degree, his muscles coiling, tension building until it was difficult to say what hurt and what didn’t. Instinctively he bent over, scraping his teeth against the underside of one of her breasts. Belle thrashed beneath him, letting out a hoarse cry as she tightened around him once more, inner muscles fluttering against his cock as she came. She followed her seconds later, the relief leaving him almost giddy with delight.

He found himself desperately in need of pressing himself against her, the orgasm leaving him uncharacteristically cuddly. Belle felt clearly the same, twining her limbs around him. He marvelled at the colour contrast, deep gold against pale opalescent pink, and at the similar way in which their scales were raised, overly-sensitive after their coupling. He pressed his ear against the side of her torso, feeling rather than hearing her purr.

“Hmm, that was even better than I imagined. Didn’t know it could be so good with someone like me.”

It felt ridiculously good to know that he was her first as she was his, in a sense. He wondered if she had always known what he was, if she had been able to recognise him as kin from the beginning, and how. Wondered about where she came from, and how her upbringing had been compared to his. He wanted to see her hoard, her books and her shoes and see if he could detect what it was that appealed to her. 

There would be time for all of that later, he decided, propping himself up just enough to reach the cashmere throw forgotten on the sofa, spreading it over them as their bodies cooled.

There would be time for everything.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 010

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello everyone. Slice of life in Hawkins when Evie ventures out and encounters different residents. Warning that things are going to take a turn so TW for manipulating and explicit physical abuse. Light racism. Evie receives some horrible threats when she tries to make a change for the better. Thank you all for turning in. Heavy heavy chapter, way more personal than I like. TAGLIST OPEN ! Chat with me if you have time. :)

Chapter 10: A Little More Sin

   There were some peculiar things Billy Hargrove noted about the way Evie Fenny slept.

   She burrowed into whatever was around. Face buried like she might be trying to smother herself. 

   She made little noise except occasional whimpers. Arguably cute.

   She went dead still. He checked to make sure the girl was breathing at one point.

   His favorite were the whines that erupted when he tried to untangle himself from her on the couch. Early morning daylight streamed between curtains. Silent white noise scattered the television.

   A reminder of snow tumbling fresh and pristine. Washing away what was before it. Evie had fallen asleep in her fit of exhaustion still wrapped in him.

   Billy simply didn’t feel like leaving so he fell too. Cast in amber. Bodies molded together.

   Evie turned to burrow into the sofa and Blue came to nestle just above her crown of big curls. Billy peered at the empty pizza box and grabbed a marker to scribble a note she’d wake to. Propped it up and grabbed his coat.

   Paused to admire her because that was inevitable. One look cast before he was out into the grey morning. Ice and snow as far as the eye can see.

   “Shit. I'm still in Hawkins.” Billy perched a cigarette between his lips and lit up. Prepared himself for Max’s gawking when he walked in that door. 

   Evie stirred another hour later. Still smelling Billy’s cologne all over the couch and herself. Blue sat perched, licking her knuckle. No doubt begging for more food.

   “I know,” Evie pushed out a groan, “I got you.” Brown eyes focused on bold, black letters. Marked into the grease stained pizza box.

   Billy long gone.

   Probably freaked that a girl sobbed on him and passed out. Evie huffed to herself. Rubbed her eyes and plucked up the box to read.

   “Gonna ask you out…again. Tonight. Seven. I’ll even let you pick where we go.”

   Evie shook her head and pushed up.

   Figured another night with Billy Hargrove is one of the few things in her life that won’t hurt.

*** ** **

   If you asked her, she’d lie.

   Evie totally wasn’t out picking a new top for her not-date with Billy. Definitely not.

   She wasn't worrying over the exactly placement of her curls and wondering if Billy thought they were pretty down over her shoulders.

   Poor girl just...felt the urge to thrift shop. Most of her shirts and dresses were altered items she’d found. Ugly patterns galore. Evie mused over a top with an intricately painted bowl of fruit on the front and spotted a familiar helmet of red hair sitting near the fitting rooms.

   “It doesn’t fit me. It’s too big.” Came a rough woman's voice from behind the curtain. 

   Carol only huffed as she checked her manicure and stood. Evie hid behind a tall rack of dresses when a woman came out.

   She might have had the same vibrant red hair as her daughter. Once. But it was lifeless and tossed into a bun on her head.

   Carol’s mother. Dorthy Perkins. Skinny, nervous thing with a slight pouch to her stomach. Tooth gap and some healed sores in her hairline. Kept rubbing her covered arms. Sunken in and shaky. Noticeable sweat on her forehead.

   Obviously in need of a fix. She used to be a beauty queen like Mona. They might have even competed together, they both had daughters too young.

   She came out in a velvety blouse that was too long for her torso. Little baggy around the arms.

   “You didn’t tie it right. Here.” Carol wasn’t her usual bubbly self. Not the girl who schemed about terrorizing underclassmen. “Maybe we can tuck it into something.”

   “I look so ugly.” Her mother peered aside. Covered her face. “That’s why Jason walked out.”

   “He’s a piece of shit.” Carol mumbled.

   “He was like a father to you. We spent almost seven years together. I’m ugly.” 

   “Stop saying that. We’re better off without him.” Carol asserted herself that time.

   “He’ll be back, he always is.”

   Carol only frowned, faltering. That much was true.

   The false hope of it all killed.

   “This color is pretty.” She went on instead. “You like blue. We can tuck it into that black skirt you have. Maybe a belt.”

   “Skirt’s no good. It’s all worn and discolored. Never should have let you do the laundry.”

   “Someone had to. I said sorry. You were drunk and...I saw those needles.”

   “Carol, don’t speak to me like that.” This switch flipped on. She snatched her daughter’s wrist. Looked like she might try to break it.

   Evie never saw that look in Carol's eyes before. It pricked her own heart with pure, pooling fear. This girl who always looked her best and turned her nose up toward everyone else.

   Because she knew better.

   Carol and Evie had that much in common. 

   Her mother continued. Darkening.

   “I was not drunk. I gave it up. I’m better.”

   Carol wiggled away uncomfortably. Winced at her now irritated flesh. Looked around to make sure no one saw them.

   “Just keep your voice down. We’ll figure out something. You need a nice outfit. You have to get this job. Nail place doesn't pay me enough. I just started.” Carol shook her head at the same time Evie knocked into some hangers backing up. 

   Instantly, she was spotted.

   “Evangeline Fenny.” Her mother plastered this crackling smile as she stood taller. Carol’s arms crossed. Immediate hatred. “Did you lose weight?”

   “Mom.” Carol hissed.

   “Hi…” Evie blinked, lips lifting. “And, no, but thank you.”

   “Oh well, you look pretty. How’s your mother?” It was a courtesy. Mona wasn’t close with Mrs. Perkins. Or Carol’s stepdad. They weren’t liked in Hawkins. Kept to themselves in a dingy house. Drinkers. Users.

   But, that's all nasty gossip. Carol was quick to shut it down.

   “Fine.” Evie started to shuffle off because Carol looked like she was begging silently. Paused. “I like that color too and you can hem the bottom.”

   “Not all of us sew.” Carol turned to ice. Evie reached into her one of her reusable grocery bags. Pulled out a little package.

   “I like to cheat with this. Hem tape. It’s fast, you just iron it along the bottom. It holds well.”

   “Let me pay you for that.” Mrs. Perkins grabbed her worn purse.

   “No, it’s cheap and I picked up extra. They had a sale today.” The second part was a lie. Evie held it as far out as she could. Carol crossed over. Plucked it from her hand with glittery pink gemstones for fingertips.

   A beat. Two girls orbiting the same great planet. Threatening to be yanked into a storm.

   “Thanks.” Carol sucked her cheeks in. “Mom, go change.”

   “See you late, Evie.” The woman wandered off. Carol inhaled sharper. Peered at Evie again.

   “New top to show off for Bowers when school starts?” She flicked her tangerine locks, brow lifting.

   Evie pressed her lips. Brown eyes narrowing.

   “It’s good to see you too, Carol.” She avoided that and turned.

   “I just think you should give it up. It’s really pathetic. Everyone thinks so.” Carol sneered. Looked anywhere else. “The girl who went psycho on Tannen. Dressing up for our teacher. He’s just being nice because he feels sorry for you.”

   Evie paused to peer back. Felt her own pity swell.

   “Then, I guess you have nothing to worry about. Huh.” She watched Carol flame up and went to pay for her items. Not able to look back. Not able to admit a connection was possible or that such distinct planets could ever align.

   Boots hurried out into the cold, cheeks blooming rosy. She wrapped her scarf tighter and got near the bus stop before a hand was jerking her around into the side of a brick building. 

   Speak of the devil and he’ll appear. Evie's shoulders went up.

   “What the fuck, Tannen? I thought Hawkins was scum you’d never set foot in.” She grunted. Saw his furious eyes dart.

   “You really think I don’t know about your fucking band of ragtag shitheads? I saw you all.” He pressed his hand into the wall.

   “Heard you’re single now.” Evie remarked. Fingers ripped her up a few inches by the coat.

   “Don’t fuck with me, Fenny.” He said lower. Dangerous as can be.

   “You already tried that game, Brock, and you lost.” Evie spat back there in the snow. He dropped her down. Laughed.

   “Got closer than you liked. We had a moment.”

   “It was a kiss and you were a creep.”

   "You spazzed, girl, and I'm gonna find out why. What has Evie Fenny so shaken up?"

   "Have you considered it's the effect you have?" Evie sneered.

   “Better be careful in the coming weeks. I just wouldn’t go anywhere alone.” Across the street, his dad hollered for him, coming out of city hall.

   “Daddy’s calling. Bet you’re having trouble getting away from his watchful eyes.” Evie shrugged. Shoving his arm away. "Stay away from me."

   “Like I'd ever hit this for real. Fucking Psycho Sybil. That's what we call you up at Ridgemont. You’re a fat, fucking slut and you’ll never be anything else-”

   “Excuse me!” A sharper voice cut in. Tannen leaned out from Evie to peer at Mr. Clarke. Bundled and unsuspecting. Not intimidating by any means, but he wasn’t backing down. “I think you outta leave her alone, Mr. Tannen.”

   “We were just talking, sir.” Tanned peered at Evie, backing up. “For now. See you around, Fenny. Bet on that.” His dad called for him again so he crossed to go to their expensive, red car.

   “Are you alright, Evie?” Scott Clarke. Hawkins Middle. One of Dustin’s idols.

   She just sniffled. Hadn’t realized she'd even welled up. 

   “Yeah. Fine.”

   “You know he’s the jerk, right?”

   Evie roused to laugh, nodding. Psycho Sybil. That was a new one. 

   “Yes, I do. Thanks.” She looked down at her feet. 

   “Did you take the bus here?” He had a bag of books from the library in hand. Evie nodded again. “Do you want a ride home? I’d feel better knowing you’re safe. Don’t worry about guys like that. He’s going to lose all his hair and money and amount to nothing.”

   Evie broke again to giggle. Little brighter now. What a teacher.

   “Y-Yeah, I guess so.” Eyes peered at Scott’s grey car. “Is...that a DeLorean?”

   “Gift from me to myself. My pride and joy now. Neat, huh? Dustin loved it. Do you still babysit him?”

   “Not a lot these days, he’s best friends with Steve Harrington. A real cool guy now. I’m old news.” Evie stepped forward, adjusting with all her bags.

   “I’m sure that’s not true. You’re pretty snazzy as they kids say… They do say that, right?”

   “Ahhh, not really.” Evie watched him chuckle.

   Mr. Clarke wasn't like her dad. Lanky and sweet. Always ready to brighten your dad being dorky. Jack was a cool business man. Smooth talker. Scott always made time for his students too. That was the biggest difference. 

   “Can I get you home safe? No pressure, I just can’t stand to see a boy act like that.” Scott gestured and Evie pressed her lips.

   “Okay.” She almost said no. Had this gut feeling she should have. Not because of Scott. The guy was a sitcom star and a genius. A genuinely good man. But, a feeling gnawed like she was being watched. The door swung up.

   “Neato, right?”

   “That’s certainly one word. How strange.” Evie got in and Scott came around. Turned the car on to go. “Thanks...for the ride and for saying something. You didn’t have to.”

   “Of course, I did. Stepping in when we see that behavior is important. It's bare minimum. I was bullied when I was young and one day I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. The rest is history. Good history.” He turned a corner. Fiddled with the radio trying to find something the kids listen to. Evie smirked a little at that. “How’s your mom doing?”

   “She’s...okay. Working a lot more.”

   “And yourself? I know you had a rough year. I hope that’s not too forward to say. I try to ask Claudia about how your family is. Purely worried teacher talk. You know? I consider Mona a good friend.” He beamed there. Blushing.

   “No, uh, it’s been hard. I guess.” Evie shrugged. Stared at the trees.

   “My parents divorced when I was about your age. It was hard on me. My mom was one tough cookie, even found love again and they’re still happily married. Silver lining.” Mr. Clarke explained. “And I might not understand it fully myself, but I recently ended a relationship. Couple months and we both agreed with her relocating. Still friends even. Nice end. But, it’s something hard to process. A person not being there.”

   Evie turned to see him watching the road carefully. Something resonated deeply.

   “Mr. Clarke?"

   "Yes?"

   "How...do you end a relationship nicely?”

   “You just be as honest as you can, I suppose. This is a person who cares about you, they should understand at some length. Life takes us so many places.” He paused at a light and turned onto Cherry. “Which house were you?” 

   “4817, right next to the Hargrove’s there.” Evie pointed, gathering her items. “I’ll tell my mom you said, hello. Thanks again.”

   “Certainly, do that. Strange not seeing her every morning in that cafe by her shop. Take care and don’t let losers like Mr. Tannen bring you down.”

   “I won’t, Mr. Clarke.” Evie beamed again and pushed out. “See you around.” She stood and jumped at Billy next to his mailbox. A wide grin crossing because of the car make.

   “Look who has style.” Billy bent over to see and Evie rolled her eyes. “Mr. Clarke. We should race sometime.”

   “Staying out of trouble, Mr. Hargrove?”

   “Always.” He stood taller to wink at Evie as she waved then shut the door so Mr. Clarke could drive off. "And no one's pushed that guy into a locker?"

   "He's snazzy as the kids say." Evie joked. Billy snickered to himself. “So, Tannen cornered me. He’s upset.”

   “He cause you trouble?” Billy was distractedly stuffing a cigarette into his mouth. Evie’s lips quirked before she plucked it out. Turned it over so he had the correct end between his teeth.

   Billy blinked at her proximity.

   “Tried to. His dad is on him and Mr. Clarke saved the day. I don’t care about Tannen.” Psycho Sybil. Fat slut. Trying to dress up and impress her teacher. Her teacher that she was fucking. Every syllable was another sharp tack in her stomach.

   Evie shifted her eyes so he changed the subject. Suggestive.

   “You get my note?”

   “Hard to ignore.” She peered back at him.

   “That’s how I’d best describe myself, Angel.” Billy mused, blowing smoke aside. Got closer to drop the baritone. “And if I were to show up at the scheduled time? I’ll even wear the white shirt you like.”

   A smile betrayed her face. Nose crinkling. Billy matched it. Not yielding.

   “I might be open to a discussion at that time.” Evie turned. Voice softening. Still intent. “There’s something I need to do first.”

   Billy didn’t ask what. Just watched her saunter up into her house. Enjoyed the view.

   After locking the door, Evie unpacked her bags.

   “Yes, I got you something too.” She watched Blue come to paw at plastic. “I spoiled you, actually. Let’s eat and put your new collar on, shall we?”

   Evie got some stuff done. Food. Real food. Got Blue set up with some cat necessities. Red collar with a shiny bell. Pulled out her sewing machine to work on a couple garments. Until her hands ached. Distractions were good.

   Her personal phone trilled.

   “Fenny residence.” She plucked it up. Same lacquer candy apple as her painted nails.

   “Evie.” Terse.

   “Fredrick. You’re calling me?”

   “I know your mother isn’t home and it’s your line," he explained, "I figured we were safe.”

   “I was...actually going to call you soon, can we talk?”

   “Oh?” His tone changed. “Now?”

   “In person.”

   “Right, then I’ll come get you in a bit.”

   “No, there’s a bus. I’ll take that.” Evie paused. “It’s important.”

   “Don’t let anyone see you on the street. See you soon.”

   “Yes.” They hung up. Evie pulled on a fresh shirt and red hoodie. Brought it up over her curls. Bundled herself to venture out around four that afternoon. Three hours should have been enough. Red riding hood venturing to see the world.

   She caught the bus and got off a street over. Tried to breathe. Nervous hands applied some strawberry tinted chapstick before she knocked.

   “Come in.” Fredrick hurried her inside with one arm. They stood together in the narrow hallway of his rental flat. She brought her hood down. Prepared. He jumped ahead of her, dead set. “Dear, I think I know what this is about.”

   “You do?” Evie dropped her arms. Standing inches from him.

   “The marriage talk. Listen, I shouldn’t have pushed it. I know you probably think coming here to agree to it is what you want. Being a young girl, running off into the sunset is what you dreamed of. But, make sure you’re choosing the best decision for you-”

   “That’s not why I’m here.” Evie spoke flatter. He double took at her expression. Got almost nervous.

   “It’s not?” His entire body shifted.

   “No.” Evie replied. Plain and simple. Not even a second thought. 

   It seemed to jar him. She wasn’t swooning into his arms or falling to her knees in worship.

   “Well, I’m still glad you’re here.” Instantly, Fredrick was on Evie. Snatched her jaw forth for a kiss. Cupped the back of her head and moaned. Needy and sudden. Not the cool, collected teacher who was tsking because a young girl was falling deeply for him.

   “Wait.” Evie was just standing there with her lips open. Eyes on a decorative framed print of Zeus and Europa. Not reciprocating while his tongue wormed inside. “Mmf, wait.” She tilted her head back. “I wanted to talk.” Brown eyes looked all directions.

   "Let's talk after," he purred, "my sweet Evie. Look so pretty in red. Straight from the pages of Lolita. Sometimes I want to call you that, it'd fit you. You never did like Evangeline." It was clearly a joke, but she didn't laugh. "Oh, what about Abigail? From The Crucible. We always liked her. Something with a little more sin."

   Psycho Sybil. Abigail. Lolita.

   "I really want to just talk, is that okay?" Asking permission to not have sex. That was a new one and he did appear irritated. She shuffled and held herself when he stepped back.

   “What’s going on, Evie?” He stood a great deal taller, hands on his hips.

   “I think…” She tried to find all the right words. “I think maybe we should slow down?”

   "Slow down."

   "Ah...stop." Evie corrected herself. Aching. "I think we-"

   “What were you doing in that man’s car today?” Fredrick cut in. Ignoring her.

   “You saw me?”

   “Yes, I was running my errands and I know I can’t approach you. It’ll look too strange. What was that about?”

   “It… Mr. Clarke was just giving me a ride home.” Evie brought her hand up. Clutched at her hoodie.

   “I just wondered if maybe you had a pattern.” He turned his head and shook it idly. “Let’s go sit down. Talk like adults.” He ushered Evie into the living room. She didn’t want to sit but followed to do it anyways. “What’s all this about, Evie? Explain it to me.”

   “I care about you. You were there for me. I know that and I don’t… I won’t take it for granted. I’m just...distracted. You know, high school is ending and I think this... “ Evie closed her eyes. The truth of it was ice. “I don’t want this.”

   “This? Us?”

   She pressed her lips. Tried to stare at his face. Too many emotions flitting across it. 

   “I think we just want different things. And that’s okay-”

   “You came back, Evie. All that time we spent together. That incredible summer we had. We were happy. It can always be like that."

   "But," Evie realized it too, "it won't be."

   "I know you’re scared. But, the future.” He took her hand in both of his. Held it tight. “Our future. We planned it. You must be terrified. Your dad left, that doesn’t mean I’ll leave you. I'll never leave you, Evie. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

   “N-No…” Evie trembled. Unable to wiggle her hand away. “I think we should...just part ways. I’ll switch classes if you want. I need to focus on finishing school and-”

   “I don’t want you to switch classes, do you think I can’t be mature about this?” He narrowed on her awed face. “This isn’t you, what’s gotten into your head all the sudden? Is there someone else?”

   She froze. Honesty. He loved her, he'd understand.

   “It’s not about that.”

   “But, there is someone else?” Fredrick shook his head. Ran one hand into blond hair. Still clutching her wrist. “You tell them about us? Huh? This isn’t some silly high school game. I asked you for one thing. To keep it together.” Her jerked Evie into him.

   “No! I didn’t.” She winced. “You’re hurting me.”

   “No, I’m not.” Fredrick scoffed. Like she was being truly unreasonable. Alarms started to go off in her brain.

   “I’ll never tell anyone, just...please. I can’t do this. It’s me. I can’t do this. I have to work on myself and it’s not fair to you. That’s all.” Evie tried to stand.

   “We’re talking still, Evangeline!” A finger pointed before he tugged her back into him. Hands latched around her arms. Squeezed harsh marks into skin. “I don’t understand. Suddenly, you want out. You’re acting all afraid of me? Who knows about us?”

   “No one!” She whimpered. Lungs sputtering. “I won’t ever tell anyone. I promise. I just need to think.”

   “You can think right here.” He soothed. Pulling her into his chest. All the games where he played hard to get and she crawled back were lost. He really might lose her. That blared. “Let’s get something to calm your nerves. Then, you can rest and we can keep talking. I fought so hard for us. You understand that? Do you even care?”

   “I don’t need to drink. I think I should just go home. I care, that's why I need to do this. It's a good thing. We can...still be friends.” Evie’s palms were spread on his chest. “My mom-”

   “Isn’t even in town. I hardly think she’ll care even if her daughter is out late. Isn’t that right, dear? We both know she’s always been more preoccupied with her salon and who she’s screwing than her own daughter.” Blue eyes were alight at her. Evie went very still. "I'm the adult, I should have told your mother from the first. But, I couldn't deny you. And she doesn't even care about you, Evie, not like I do."

   "Don't say that..."

   He started to charge. A mad bull clicking its hooves.

   “Everything we have, you just want to throw away? Move on and giggle with all your fucking little friends about me? Is that it? Think you can laugh at me and leave like my wife did-?”

   “Ow, please, let me go.” Evie started to twist in the struggle. Terrified and yanking as he tugged her back into his chest. “That hurts, Fredrick, please. You're hurting me.”

   “I love you, god damn it!” He shook her. Began to flame. “You want to go? Fine!” 

   A hard shove sent her head bouncing into the wall. Flames burst.

   Evie tumbled over into hardwood. Eyes wet. Slumped down. The world almost went black. When she didn’t get up immediately, he was over her. Shifting curls from her face as she made this odd croak. Skull throbbing white hot.

   Memories flashed and burnt.

   “Shit... Shit, Evie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. You do this to us, you know? Oh, I just love you too much, I won’t lose you. You’re okay, it’s fine. Come, let’s get you to lie down. I’ll make you feel better.”

   Evie licked her lips. Curls shaking as her head rose to see him. Hands braced on the floor to steady her dizzy frame.

   The truth burned now. Became ashes.

   “I don’t love you anymore.” She offered. Small and assured. Fredrick exhaled, petting her hair aside. Time slowed.

   “Since, when?” He grew breathless as if he didn't understand.

   “Now. Just now.” Evie pushed up into the wall. Curled away from his hands. “I want to stop.”

   “Stop? After everything.”

   “It’s me...and it’s you. This was wrong. It's so wrong.” She sniffled. Mascara running. “I think I should go home now. I don't feel well.”

   “What if I said, no? What if I said, I don’t want you to go home?” A slow hand curled around her arm again. He got close to her face. Started to kiss her lips and temple. “I’m so sorry, Evie. Just come to bed and lie down.” He cupped her tender head, nodding. A smile beamed. “We’ll talk about this. I’ll make you feel so good. Yeah? Because only I know how.”

   She tried to be hard. Tried to scare this man who still cast a shadow over her body. Fredrick started to pull her up. Pawing. Evie resisted and stayed on the floor.

   “Then, I’ll tell people about you. About us.”

   “Evie,” he froze to speak slower as if she was stupid, “it’s your word against mine.”

   “I have a lot of words to describe you and this place and things we did. Your word against mine. I don’t need the world to believe me. Just a couple people will be enough…” She trembled and steeled against him. Fredrick dropped her like she scorched him. “They’ll ask you questions. So, let me go-”

   “Is that so? You want to ruin my life?” He set his jaw.

   Evie’s expression wrinkled with contained fury. A wave that would destroy an oncoming ship.

   “No, you do.”

   One snap. She felt the air leave her body. Yanked out crudely. A jerk that howled up her stomach. Sent her diaphragm into a panic.

   He’d kicked her. Hard. Directly in the side. She came up choking and Fredrick lost his mind. Kicked her in the rib and hip until she was curled against the wall. Limbs flailing.

   Screaming.

   Fredrick began to panic too. As the sound echoed. Started to slap at her until that screaming stopped. Evie ripped his shirt trying to wiggle away into the hall. Got jerked over on her side

   “Quiet. Just be quiet, Evie! Shut up!” One knee came down into her chest, held Evie still. Metal seeped along her tongue. A fist closed and the entire crescent of her eye swelled. Sound cut. A hand smacked her lips. Smothered her down. 

   Evie’s whimper choked there. She stilled. Petrified.

   The frame with poor Europa crashed to the floor. Long fractures cast her painted, twisting body.

   Evie stared at it. The shape of the mighty, handsome bull Zeus turned himself into to lure prey. Sweeping lovely Europa off her feet. Lungs were still sputtering to take in fresh air. Not getting enough.

   For a moment, Evie thought he'd really kill her. Turned pink. Then red. Then blue. Then purple.

   "I...c-can't breathe." It was the tiniest squeak imaginable. His knee shifted and some air seized. 

   “I just need you to be quiet,” Frederick whimpered. “I’ll let you go. Okay. I’ll let you go right home if you do it silently. If you tell someone about us, I’m going to have to hurt you again. I won't let you ruin my life. Just like my fucking wife. You can't be like her. You were too special. So, I'll hurt you, Evie. Do you want that? Do you think I want this?”

   The moment her head shook, his hand came up. A gasp as she was able to breathe again. Choking and coughing. Dying.

   “Fuck.” Fredrick turned her body over. “Can you move everything, alright?”

   Evie refused to look at him.

   “Why’d you make me do that, Evie? I can’t believe you. Screaming like a fucking child. I just needed you to be quiet. I wasn't trying to hurt you, damn it, I just needed you to be quiet.” He was breathing heavily. Frantic. Same way he would after screwing her. “God damn it.”

   Hands roamed to check her over. Frederick hovered, tilted her face toward his to prod.

   “Look like a broken doll like this. You’re still so pretty. You’re okay. It’s not bad.” That sounded like a lie. Evie could feel her eye socket puffing. Boiling heat. “We can make it better.”

   He kissed her unmoving lips. Desperately. 

   “You should stay here, let me look after you.” He cooed that. Came down to lie next to her. Bringing her head into his. Stroking her hair and kissing her hot, salty cheek. “I’m sorry.”

   Fredrick was crying too. Into her neck. Hard.

   “I can’t lose you. I can’t stop thinking about you some days. I was ready for it to be you. Do you realize that? If this is about… Just tell me, let me fix it. Evie. I don’t want you to leave me.” He came up and sniffled pathetically. Like a baby. Saw her cold, empty eyes. "I love you, I need you to take care of me. Please, Evie."

   Psycho Sybil. Abigail. Lolita. Europa. A little more sin. 

   Evie was somewhere else. Pressed into the wall to disappear. A hand touched her knee and Evie seized up. Scrambled back. Aching. Gasping to just be far, far away.

   “I won’t tell anyone.” She said without a tremor of emotions. Eyes distant. Evie pushed herself up carefully while he hovered. “I’m gonna go home now. I'll be so quiet.”

   “Let me drive you. Evie. I can fix this.” He begged and pulled at her clothes. “I can put you back together.”

   Evie limped to the door. 

   “No, you can't, Fredrick,” she droned, “but thank you for trying anyways.” That would mean something. Anything.

   It had to, right?

   The door shut and he didn’t run after her. Evie whimpered up to the bus stop while cold licked her cheeks dry. Snow and ice glimmered. Too beautiful for how ugly she felt. She pulled her hood up and paid. Draped herself across a seat in the back. 

   Another two riders got on. Tommy H with an older woman in a plush coat. His stepmom. Caused some controversy back when Tommy was a child. His white dad would marry a black woman after Tommy’s mom passed away. Cancer.

   Christ. This fucking town.

   Nice lady. Sometimes she came into Mona’s shop to see her because Mona knew her way around textured curls. Evie sank down, but Tommy noticed her.

   It was strange, the expression that crossed his face. She was hidden in her hoodie half behind her puffy curls. But that splotchy face and discolored skin gave the obvious away.

   He didn’t jeer and instead sat down. Peered out at the street and saw the orange Plymouth there. Eyes narrowed.

   “Sorry about the car, mom.” He spoke when she joined him.

   “It happens, honey, it’ll be out of the shop tomorrow. We’ll tell dad that I bumped the basketball hoop.” She winked so he flashed a smile, eyes shifted to Evie again intent out the window.

   A couple more riders trailed on. Some hick knocked into Mrs. Hagan’s shoulder on the way. Muttered a ugly slur Evie had heard Mr. Hargrove say on his front lawn. Jeering at their perfectly normal neighbors across the way.

   “You want me to kick your ass, man? Apologize to my mother!” Tommy shot up. Protective little cub. The hick wobbled on his drunk feet. Shrunk to go to a seat as Mrs. Hagen pulled her boy down.

   “He’s not worth it.”

   “I won’t let people talk to you that way.” Tommy’s fists curled. Beet red. "Still my mom." She only kissed his cheek and brought him to her shoulder. Evie watched the back of Tommy’s head. Felt something similar that had curled up her spine when she saw Carol today too.

   We all had our shit.

   Tommy watched Evie get off at her stop. Didn’t say a word. She made herself small and went up into her house. Shut the door.

   Didn’t eat anything. Bones rattled while she got into bed and curled up. Hoodie pulled close. Blue nestled by her crown, purred to comfort her.

   Evie stayed there. Didn’t cry. Hated herself. 

   Didn’t rouse when the knocks began at seven.

   Psycho Sybil. Abigail. Lolita. Europa. A little more sin. 

   Never Evangeline.

~~~~~~~~

Thanks all for reading!!! As always, feel free to chat with me about Billy and Evie. Askbox and taglist are both open. Sorry if the tag doesn’t work! ^_^ 🍓

@80sbxtch​  @nottherightseason​  @orxhidshavana​  @alagalaska​​ @alongcamedolly​  @kellyk-chan​  @stanley--barber @10blurredsmoke10

[usednapkin]

It’s Been Too Long... And I Know Long... Long... Long~ Long~ MAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNN~~~~

Long...

Long!

Long~

(moaning and heavy breathing)

If you don’t get that reference, don’t worry. Nobody is perfect. The Japanese really know how to make a great commercial series.

You’re gonna look it up now, aren’t you?

I feel like I used this reference before in my past blogs... can you blame me for not remembering? It’s been ages since I did this again. I’ve grown from a boy to a bigger boy. My gut is bigger. My double chin is doubler. I shave every week now. I drink tea sometimes. Adulthood is a busy lifestyle.

But it’s not only adulthood that’s been making things busy - of course I’m talking about the new trend of putting a fake penis next to your loved one and see if they cuddle with it in their sleep. Apparently, it will instantly get you a hundred thousand followers on TikTok. Try it out! I won’t lie to you!

I joke, that’s a fake trend. But now you’re thinking about whether it would actually be plausible. I dunno man, anything is possible in this world. And right now, we are living in a historical time. Covid19? Black Lives Matter? I wear contacts now? What’s going on?

Seriously though... it feels kinda weird to be doing this blog. I never realized how much it helped me, doing this on a regular basis. Just me and my third computer, typing out my thoughts - it can be very therapeutic, but it also helps me with my creative process. I also learn to type a little bit faster. 

OFFICE JOBS, HERE I COME. #adulthood

Where do I even begin? What do I blog about when there are so many things to talk about? I could talk about how Covid19 affected my life, I can talk about how the BLM movement changed my perspective on how I view the world - but I’m not here to talk about issues in the world, I’m here to entertain, and break down my thoughts in a way that confuses eighty percent of the internet population.

And rant about how stupid customers can be.

I still work the same job - been at it for six years now, like hol--you know what? Let’s talk about how Covid19 affected my workplace. So I work in a grocery store - “Living the dream,” as one of the managers calls it - and during the first couple of weeks that the news declared a global pandemic, oh man... it was fun.

...Is that a weird thing to say?

You have to imagine, my job isn’t the most stressful, eventful, entertaining or fun place to work at, but when the pandemic rolled through. we were busy as fuck, Customers were rolling in, ready to prepare for the worst. And this was before we started to regulate the flow of customers. If the music was super loud, it would’ve been a bangin’ grocery store club. 

But they would have to dance to Haven’t Met You Yet by Michael Bublé.

Imagine your parents grinding to that.

BASS DROPS.

You all probably think that the toilet paper was the first to go--AND YOU’RE RIGHT. It went along with the hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes, but did you know that all the frozen foods, pasta, canned food, and fresh meat were  almost emptied? At one point, a customer asked if we were selling barren shelves. I threw pickles at him.

Aside from all the sales, customers were being rowdy. People were on edge about getting in and out of the store, people tried to slip ahead of the line by explaining injuries that we couldn’t prove was real, I saw these two ladies fight over the last bag of shrimp, this drunk man ate a frozen chicken pie that was on sale for a dollar, this white lady overtly yelled out how she felt threatened by a pregnant black lady standing in line with her husband--

--okay, I may have used situations that weren’t due to covid19, but you get it.

Damn it, Grocery Gabby.

The store was probably seventy percent more chaotic than it would be. I don’t work in the front, so I didn’t see much of the action, but there was a lot more yelling. The owners got into a lot of fights with the customers. A couple of them even got physical. This was the first time that my ordinary job felt like it was a threat to my well-being.

It was kinda thrilling.

But of course, at the same time, it was something that I did not want to last. Later, when the world started to learn more about the virus, and we got our toilet paper supply back, everything basically went back to normal. I miss the days where I was able to bike to work on the empty streets... And I miss my temporary, very short-lived hazard pay.

Yeah, we don’t get that anymore. Our customers aren’t in bad condition like they are in the hospitals. I knew it wouldn’t last, which is why I asked for extra hours during that period. Smart of me, huh? I also had nothing much to do at home, so there was that. Lockdown and everything, y’know?

I look forward to the day where we won’t have to wear our masks in the store again. I mean, I was wearing one before the pandemic happened because Asian style, but now I kinda miss seeing the faces of my coworkers. I also met a few new ones for the past year and I don’t think I’ve ever seen their real faces. I mean, do they have a round chin or pointy one? Do they have moles like me? How’s the condition of their teeth? How can she have boobs so big, yet grow more chin hairs than I can?

These are the important questions in life.

But that’s work in a nutshell. Occasionally, we have issues with anti-maskers, but those customers make up like, two percent of the total that enter our store. Some are even conscious about distance, meaning that they KNOW they choose not to wear a mask, so therefore they try and keep their distance even more from you. It happened to me a couple of times.

But seriously, if you can, wear a mask.

Why do adults hate the idea of being told what to do? Is it their pride? Is it because they feel threatened of the idea that someone is smarter than them? Are they tall, ugly-shaped babies or something? I kinda get it, you’re an adult, and you shouldn’t be told how to live your life and be told what to do by someone else, but when lives are being at risk, think about your loved ones. Is it really worth your pride and ego?

I digress. TL;DR: My first year of covid19 was an eventful one.

“Was it though?”

Yes Bob, it was. 

Now I just have to have faith in humanity to be able to combat this virus until it’s demise. Hopefully we can try and stop it before the variants become too strong. I miss people. Until then, I’ll still be stocking shelves with a bunch of employees who look like ninjas.

Retail Jutsu.

Our ninja stars are crackers.

[newsies-geek]

Newsies in Quarantine (Javid) Part 1

Idea from @dragonsrrad !!

***

Davey hadn’t exactly been sure how he felt about Jack the first day he met him. One could call many different events having been their “first-time-meeting”.

When Jack had run into him while being chased by the Delancys.

When Davey first stepped foot into the world that was being a Newsie, receiving all sorts of gawky stares from boys who were all dressed in outfits that weren’t as pressed or clean as his.

Or, perhaps, when Jack had bought Davey extra papers, and for the first time, Davey decided to deliberately make eye-contact with the other boy.

Davey recalled every occurrence, but he considered the last one to be the first time he truly met Jack, the first time he really noticed him. He was almost caught off guard, unsure if he should reject or accept the stranger’s kindness, or if he should take it as kindness at all to begin with. His father had taught him to be kind to others, but to also have pride’s in one’s self, resulting in an awkward denial of the papers, that his younger brother had quickly thwarted when becoming sales partners with Jack.

Davey wasn’t sure how he should feel about the wanna-be-cowboy, but he sure knew how he did feel.

Skeptical, seemed to be the most obvious first answer, but keen was a one that rooted deeper within him.

There was something about the way the other boy delivered the way his words, his movements, his smiles, that would sometimes be pointed at Davey in particular.

And by the end of the day, Davey knew he was fond of Jack, of the way he could get out of trouble while still looking out for those around him, his lack of manners that he tried to desperately to make up for in quiet apologies, apologies that weren’t made up in the word sorry, but in more looks and smiles that could take a moment, or a century, to decode.

Davey was certain he could gladly look at Jack’s face for a century if it meant knowing how the other felt all the time.

Jack was expressive but not verbally, any verbal expression he had were words that he had picked up from others, usually from David. But through art, there was no telling what Jack could and would say. His art was so influential and raw that Davey couldn’t help but admire it, which is exactly what he was doing now.

Around half of the Newsies were currently inside Medda’s theatre, having not been able to make it from the last show they’d been watching to the lodging house before the county went on an affective lock-down.

Sickness had been ravishing the town for weeks, but matters to contain it had only been discussed until now.

Davey had begun to momentarily freak out when he heard the news about how they would be forcefully kept within the theatre.

Policemen on horses trotted around tirelessly outside, and David knew his parents would be more upset if he and Les tried to make it home illegally than if they just stayed out. Regardless, this hadn’t help Davey to stay calm much.

The other newsies hadn’t been so affected, Jack hadn’t been there when the announcement was made, too busy back stage painting to be bothered all that much, while the others simply took the news with slight dismay to the fact that they wouldn’t be making money selling papes, which was quickly silenced by Medda’s offer to feed and house the boys seeing as they couldn’t leave.

She’d sent a few of them up into the rafters to look for anything that could he used as a bed, seeing as how she wasn’t going to make them sleep on the floor. They’d sleep on the stage instead.

Davey had begun to hyperventilate at the news that they would be required to stay here. Sarah was at home with his mother and father no doubt, meaning that they were all most likely safe. That helped him a bit. He’d seen Les no more than a second ago before he had excitedly scrambled off with the other newsies, chanting about a sleepover. It helped Davey to know his kid brother wasn’t as phased by this as he was. But even with all of this combined, thw curly-haired boy couldn’t help but focus on the beat of his heart, quick and anxious, thundering from his chest to his toes.

He wasn’t going to see his parents for...how long had Medda said? Two weeks they were to shelter-in-place?

This reminder only made Davey feel sicker as he stumbled to the edge of the stage, leaning all his weight on it to relieve some stress from his body. His parents wouldn’t receive the money he’d made today- nor any of the money he would have made this week.

Would they have enough food?

Could they afford the bills?

What about the water bills? They could last longe without food than without water-

Would they be allowed to leave to get water if they needed it desperately?

Probably- but what if they had to prove it and someone had to come inside and then that person gave the virus to his family and they couldn’t afford the medicine because Davey himself was here with all the money. It would be his fault, no doubt. Even if the back of his mind told him that it was the Virus and not him, it was the front of his mind that Davey was listening to.

He’d have to be stuck with boys who looked like they hadn’t showered in- well, ever. Davey knee they did, despite getting just as much dirt on them, if not more, than they had when they started the day. While their hygiene was questionable, Davey at least knew that it existed, having walked into the lodging house to more than a few boys taking bathes in ice cold water once or twice. The sight had appalled him, but they didn’t seem to bothered, living with tons of other boys around them, they were used to the lack of personal space.

A realization seemed to drop into the pit of Davey’s stomach.

He wouldn’t have personal space now, would he?

Davey clutched at his arms and held them tight to his chest. Don’t presume wrong, Davey was all for physical affection, but it varied. Only with particular people. Les was basically attached to his knees when he got bored and Sarah never stopped fixing his hair. But Davey wasn’t very used to physical contact outside of his family. Well, them and Jack.

Jack was a wonder to Davey in the way that he couldn’t wrap his head around the boy. The dirty-blonde haired boy had practically forced himself into Davey’s life, by word and by action. Constantly, Jack’s arm would find a way over Davey’s shoulder while they were selling. Later in the evenings when only the desperate and the youth were out on the town, Jack would place an arm around Davey’s hips.

The curly-haired brunette wasn’t quite sure what to think about it, all he knew is that Jack’s hand felt different than any hand he had touched before.

Not just in physical texture, rough with calluses from endless work since he’d been old enough to, but also in the feeling of it on Davey’s shoulders, hips, or even his own hand on the occasion that Jack might clasp it, throwing their held hands together in the air as a sign of victory. It was warm, not just Jack’s hand, but the area that it touched. Warm and pleasant, careful and intentional, almost wary of how Davey would react to its placement.

And this thought, is what finally seemed to calm Davey’s mind.

He wasn’t sure where his friend had run off too, and that suddenly seemed to become the most important thing to him at the moment.

Looking around the near empty theatre, other than a sleeping Romeo who leaned against an also sleeping Specs, the boys’ faces having gentle, content smiles, probably from the fact that they could finally relax, what with knowing they’d be well taken care of without having to go outside to work.

It made Davey smile slightly from where he stood. Ah, to find bliss in not having to worry- wish I could relate.

Davey felt as though he always had someone to look after, or to look for- and that person, at the moment, was one Jack Kelly. And he had a good idea of where the boy was. Turning on his heel, and nearly running into the side of the stage before aiming for the stairs that led up to it on either side, Davey made his way to the wings, sidestepping down along the solid concrete wall that made up the back of the stage, using it to guide himself to the backstage door as all the lights were currently off in the wings, due to all present people being up in the props room and rafters.

Davey turned the doorknob and was greeted by pleasantly warm light as he entered the large room behind the stage, it being almost completely silent, what with the walls being made out of concrete, disturbed only by the occasional swish of a brush and slosh of water.

Davey turned his head to the left of the room, looking down from the wooden-plank floors and along it until his eyes glanced up at Jack, who was currently sitting in the ground in a white undershirt and paint-stained black pants, looking a bit big on him, unlike the undershirt, which cling to his body, showing the curve of his spine that looked as though it might be in pain from how long it had spent in that position as Jack focused in on the half-painted canvas before him, squinting with his tongue slightly blepped out.

Drawn to his face, Davey took notice of his red bandana hung over his left shoulder, covered in paint much like his face and arms.

Davey was able to get a few more moments of...studying.. before Jack seemed to register him and look up, presuming a sheepish smile as he tried and failed to hide his work, unable to from the size of the canvas, considering he was painting a backdrop, and the fact that the paint was wet, meaning his quick attempt to try and cover it with his body, failed when he realized a moment before he nearly touched it, that the paint was wet. He now sat up and stretched with an expression that gave away the fact that yes, he had been in that position for quite some time.

“Heya there, Dave.” Jack grinned as he swung his torso to the left and then to the right, popping it as he did so.

“Is that Santa Fe?” Davey approached the other slowly, bending down beside him and squinting at the warm-colored canvas that looked like mountains of clay had been painted onto it.

“Good eye you got there, Davey- I’m not sure.” The taller boy cocked his head and seemed to examine the painting for himself before nodding, “I think it is. I wasn’t really paying no attention to what it was that I was paintin’, just that it’s felt right.”

“Mm, I’m not surprised.” Davey sighed in amusement with a nod.

“So glad I’m typical.” Jack snorted as he got to his feet and stretched some more.

Davey felt his cheeks heat up as he looked over Jack’s torso. The boy was in incredible shape, from years of hauling newspapers around from every corner of town. God, Davey hoped the other didn’t lose that perfection during their two weeks inside.

“Somethin’ on me shirt?” Jack cocked an eyebrow at Davey, who hadn’t noticed that Jack was now looking at him.

This made the light haired boy blush more and shake his head, “No- no, just thinking.”

“Aw, ‘bout me?” Jack cooed teasingly as he took a few steps forward to stand before Davey with a cocky grin.

When am I not? Well, maybe when he was worrying- but that was quite often as well so maybe then too-

Davey would have had to have been an idiot to not realize his feelings for Jack were more than platonic, but he’d have to be an even bigger idiot to ever voice that, “Just thinking about the time inside is all.”

“Time inside? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack chuckled as he sidestepped a few inches to lean against the side of the cement wall that faced the backstage room.

Davey lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he strode over to lean against a patch of wall a few feet up from Jack, “Didn’t you hear about the lockdown?”

“What lockdown?” Jack frowned.

“We’re stuck in here for two weeks so the virus can be contained.” Davey frowned at the thought of it.

“You’re kidding!” Jack sat up straighter with lifted eyebrows.

“Wish I was.” Davey scratched at his arm anxiously.

“But what about the boys back at the lodge?” Jack fretted.

“They’ll be fine there I’m sure.” Davey reassured.

“And your family?” The so-called dime-novel-cowboy crossed his arms over his chest in concern.

“A-At home.” Davey’s scratching on his arm got faster and with more force.

“Sarah’s with them?” Jack asked quietly.

Davey’s nails dug into his arm at the comment, “Yeah.” He responded quietly.

Jack and Sarah had gone their separate ways nearly a season ago, but their friendship had lingered, much to Davey’s selfish dislike. He didn’t favor the fact that Sarah constantly talked about Jack as though they were still together.

And even though Davey knew almost certainly that they weren’t, he wasn’t exactly in control of his jealousy.

“That’s good.” Jack nodded in subtle relief.

Davey knew it wasn’t fair to Jack nor his sister that he was jealous. They were both simply living out their lives with their own story, and Davey was doing so as well. He just couldn’t help but think that his story would be a lot better with Jack by his side in a more than friendly manor.

Davey’s arm was getting redder as he scratched it harder, growing more nervous.

“So we can’t leave here at all?” Jack snapped Davey out of his thoughts.

The shorter boy shook his head, “No. Law enforcement is patrolling the whole city. You can only leave for necessities. His arm was bright red now and-

“Stop doing that.” Jack made eye-contact with Davey.

Davey’s nervous antics slowed for a moment as he looked at Jack, “Do what?”

“That-“ Jack reached forward and put his hand on top of the hand that scratched at Davey’s arm, pulling it into his own while he looked over the blue-eyed boy’s arm, “Geez, Dave. You’s gotta’ find a betta outlet than that for yours nervous energy.”

Davey shrugged as his mind eased, feeling Jack’s hand on his own, “Maybe.”

“Here, how about yous try painting a bit.” The boy led Davey over to the canvas, picking up a paintbrush from his cup of paint water and flicking it to the side to dry it before handing it to Davey, “Draw somethin’.”

“It would ruin the painting though.” Davey reasoned with a frown.

“Art is art.” Jack shrugged, “It’ll be nice to have a little bit of Dave on it.”

Davey smiled at his friend’s words. Jack always seemed to know exactly what to say to him. But he wasn’t sure how affective him painting would be, “I just- any color?”

“Well-“ Jack began before shaking his head, “Any color.”

Dave thought about it for a moment and reached for the paints.

***

Part 2: https://pawsu-productions.tumblr.com/post/615272010026827776/newsies-in-quarantine-javid-part-2

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 5

Requested: No

Word Count: 2838

Warning: Not really anything, maybe cursing at this point I think I at least use one swear word in if not more..haha

POV: Tyler

Notes: The next couple pieces are a bit fluffy. Currently working on Part 7, Part 6 will be up later this week. Also interested in maybe working on another piece, if anyone has any recommendations.

You were going to be a dad; it was the first thought that popped into your head as you opened your eyes. Though why that surprised you, you can’t be certain; as it was the last one you had before you fell asleep. What had transpired last evening was like something out of a movie. Never in a million years had you expected (Y/N) to tell you she was pregnant! That she loved you, you hoped; that you should go to hell was more likely. But never that she was carrying your baby.

It was crazy how when you heard the news; all the doubts you had about being a good father, good husband had just vanished out the window. When she uttered those words all you could think about was; is she ok, is the baby ok, only their well-being mattered. In that moment you realized that your passion for hockey waned in comparison to your need to protect them, care for them, and most of all love them. If you could have only known this three months ago. There was no changing the past now; you needed to work towards the future, a future with (Y/N) and your unborn child.

 That meant getting your ass out of bed, going to morning skate and start playing like you deserved the eight-year contract you just signed. With renewed hope, you hauled yourself to the kitchen to feed the dogs and yourself. Making yourself a healthy breakfast you caught yourself singing along to the radio playing in the background. It was the first time in months you’d actually felt alive.

 Entering the arena, a tad late, you bolted onto the ice; whizzing around getting your skating legs underneath you. The drills that had only just days ago seem mundane and useless, now skated with renewed precision. Working with your line; passes were crisper, shots perfectly placed. Taking aim at the net, you brought your stick back, cracking the puck and letting it soar past Bishop, into the net. God it felt good. “That a boy, Seggy,” Monty finally being able to cheer you on. The hour flew by, faster than when you were five-years-old; thinking it had only been ten minutes. You were last off the ice, taking a few extra practice shots before heading into the locker room. By the time you entered most of your teammates had left, a few lingered; but you sensed Jamie stayed on purpose.

 Once everyone else had taken leave Jamie finally came up to you. “So, I take it things went well last night?” He had known you were going to the charity event in hopes to see (Y/N). While he didn’t entirely approve of your methods, he was rooting for the two of you to reconcile.

 “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. But we’re making progress.”

 “Wanna talk about it?” Needing to rehash some of last night, you nodded. Staff still milled around, and it was not a discussion that you needed everyone hearing. “I’ve gotta drop this shit off at my house then I’ll be over.” People didn’t give Jamie enough credit; he was an excellent captain, always knowing what his fellow teammates needed, always handling things with digression.

Packing up you headed back to your place; the short ride giving you time to re-evaluate. Jamie pulled in almost immediately behind you. Making coffee you began to recount your night. “I put her through hell Chubbs. You have no idea.”

 “I’m sure things haven’t been easy for her.”

 “That’s putting it mildly. The beginning of the night was an all-out battle. She doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame her.” You described all the details of what transpired to Jamie, how she didn’t sleep for days, got dismissed from work, and finally how depression had overtaken her. There was just one last thing to mention; tiny as it might be in form, it was probably the biggest aspect of the night. “All that shit I put her through, but that wasn’t the worst thing. And, not that it’s a bad thing. Shit, I don’t even know how to say it. Or even if I should be.” Vaguely wondering who all (Y/N) had already told.

 “Segs I’m not going to say anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. And trust me I’m not going to look at (Y/N) any differently.”

 “Well she’s gonna look differently.” Jamie just stared at you, your comment not making any sense at all. You had a feeling it was the look you had given when (Y/N) had said ‘we’re gone,’ last night. “She’s pregnant man, with my baby.” The possessiveness in you making you add that last part.

 “Fuck are you serious?”

 “Yeah, I was fucking stunned. And then of course I did the most stupid thing possible and asked if it was mine.”

 “Jesus, Tyler! You know that woman loves you. She would never cheat on you.” The fact that he just called you Tyler made you again realize how badly you’d screwed up last night.

 “Well it wouldn’t have been cheating, we weren’t together.” Jamie just shook his head at the stupidity of your statement. You’d tried to lessen the blow for yourself, by justifying your questioning. It rang hollow even to your ears. “You’re right I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking then. Anyway, she’s like fifteen weeks along. I would’ve thought she’d be showing by then or something.”

 “Usually happens around like twelve or sixteen weeks on a first pregnancy. Everyone’s different though” Your quizzical expression had him following up that statement. “What, my sister just had a baby, I know some shit.”

 “Well then you’re gonna teach me. I came home last night and ordered a bunch of books on Amazon.” Admittedly you might have gotten carried away downloading them all; there was, Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Pregnancy: Put Yourself in her Shoes, We’re Pregnant, and Everything You Wanted To Know About Pregnancy But Were Too Afraid or Embarrassed to Ask. It was a little overwhelming, but you needed to prepare yourself. “I’m kind of at a loss on where to start.”

 Clapping you on the back, giving your shoulder a squeeze; Jamie encouraged you. “You’re gonna do great Seggy. I know my brother-in-law felt the same way, and now he’s a pro with my niece.”

 “Yeah, I hope I even get the chance. I need to get all this shit with (Y/N) figured out before the baby comes. Any ideas on how I can make that happen?”

 “Hmmm, I don’t know man. It needs to be big though. Like fucking fall on your knees beg for forgiveness type of shit.”

 “Thanks Captain Obvious. I know that already. I’ve already got flowers being delivered to her office on Monday, since I have no clue where she’s living at the moment.”

 “You need a god damn flower wall, not just a bouquet.” Jamie was right, you needed to think bigger. Something that said ‘I love you, I’m never leaving you, as well as I’ll never fucking cheat on you again, not even in a million years. That you couldn’t really buy a gift like that at the nearest mall, wasn’t lost on you. It needed to be something that showed her you were working towards your future together; moving on from past mistakes.

  Then like a light switch turning on a lamp; it hit you. “I got it!” excitement sounding in your voice. “A few weeks ago the realtor called. That house I’ve always wanted was coming on the market. (Y/N) and I have ridden past it a million times. We talked about buying it one day or building something like it. It has the perfect backyard for the dogs and kids. I’m gonna buy it, and give it to her. That is if it’s still for sale.” Getting the call weeks ago, you had dismissed the idea. That was your dream home, the place where you wanted to make your life with (Y/N); without her, at the time you just couldn’t even see contemplating it. Now, it was the perfect plan to show her where you wanted your lives to go.

 “I don’t know Segs. That seems a little….extreme.” You wouldn’t let Jamie’s reluctance sway you. “I was thinking more along the lines of like, couples’ therapy.”

 Flashing Jamie, a distasteful look, you grabbed your phone dialing the realtor’s number. A few quick questions and you set up a time tomorrow evening to view the home with (Y/N). Hanging up you gave Chubbs a pleased look. “This is gonna work man. I just feel it.”

 Continuing to shake his head at your strategy, Jamie got up to leave. “Look, I’m gonna head home and grab a nap before the game tonight. Just give it a little more thought before you follow this through. Would you Seggy?”

 “You just don’t get the beauty of it yet, Chubbs. Just wait you’ll see. I’ll talk to you tonight.” Walking him to the door, you glanced at your watch; (Y/N) should’ve called by now. Wordlessly you sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t back out. Throwing yourself on the couch, you watched time slowly tick by minute by painstaking minute. You let your mind drift to a time in the near future; you and (Y/N) walking into your new home, carrying a small little bundle in a car carrier. (Y/N) looked gorgeous as always, glancing down at the carrier you checked in on your new born; trying to determine if it was a boy or a girl. The ring on your phone brought you back from your imaginings. (Y/N)’s face appeared on the screen and you smiled to your empty living room.

 “Hey, babe.” It was an easy term of endearment that fell off your lips, after all the time the two of you had spent together.

 “Hey Ty. How was your morning skate?”

 This easy routine conversation felt like a million that you’d had before with her; one that you would have every time you were on the road. It was nice to feel some normalcy again. “Really great. I feel like tonight is going to be a good night for me, ya know.” You meant all those words, after practice you just had a renewed sense about the game.

 “That’s great Tyler. I’m glad you’re feeling better about hockey at least.”

 “I’m feeling better about a lot of things.” Unsaid words hung in the air. There was a long pause, as if she didn’t know what to say next and so to fill the void you added. “You wouldn’t want to come tonight, would you?”

 “Ummmm…I….Ummm…”you frowned knowing the answer she was trying to spit out; your brain already trying to work on a response. “I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable doing that yet Ty.”

 “Yeah sure, I completely understand. Plus, it’ll be noisy and loud, probably not good for the baby.” She laughed at that; the sound, music to your ears.

 “I think the baby can probably handle it, it’s got a lot surrounding it in there.”

 “Oh well, yeah…you’re probably right. Are you feeling ok today?” You hadn’t had a chance to discuss all the particulars with her; however, you’d read quickly last night that most morning sickness is over in the second trimester, which is where (Y/N) was at right now.

 “Yeah, baby and I are having a good morning.” You could almost hear the smile in her voice.

 “That’s great hun. You know we haven’t talked a lot about things, I mean where the baby’s concerned. I realized that when I was talking to Jamie.”

 Screaming into the phone at you, she yelled, “You told Jamie I’m pregnant!?!”

 Clearly this was another obvious mistake on your part; this was not the direction you wanted the conversation to go. You’d had enough screaming and yelling last night. “Um…Yeah. I didn’t think it’s that big of deal. I mean your friends know right?”

 “No Tyler, I haven’t fucking told a sole.” This said in a much softer voice. You hadn’t really given any real credence to her not telling anyone; automatically assuming her friends had this knowledge. After all they were the ones who had taken her to the doctor’s office in the first place.

 “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just thought…well since they took you and all.” It was yet another apology you were having to make to her.

 “No…It’s fine. I should’ve said something last night. I’m sorry I yelled.” Her regret at least showed you were making some headway.

 “Babe, why haven’t you told anyone?” It was a small question and one you wanted answered. Waking up this morning you were bubbling with excitement about the news, wanting to share it. That she had kept this secret from all those she loved for three weeks, was almost unfathomable.

 A long pause prefaced her answer. “I…Ummm…I don’t know Ty. I’m scared.” The last part barely a whisper.

 You knew that giving birth could be a scary time for a woman; hell, you had a feeling that when the time came, you would never know fear like you would in that moment. Already the baby and (Y/N) meant so much to you, and you hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. Reassuring her, you spoke. “I know it can be scary hun, but we’ll get through this, together.”

 “I think that’s what I’m scared about Ty, the together part. Like I just don’t know.” Couldn’t she realize the life the three of you would have; correction six with the dogs. It would be almost out of a storybook. Lazy summer Sundays at the lake, where you’re laying in the grass, the baby between you. Taking them home after a victory. Hell, you’d already had a crystal-clear image of more kids to come. Knowing your sins of the past, weren’t quite forgiven yet, wasn’t an obstacle you would let get in the way of all that.

 “(Y/N), I know we have a long road ahead of us, but you’ve got to know; no got to believe, we are going to get through this. I promise you.” It was a promise you would continue to make, until she knew it deep in her bones.

 “I wish I could be as certain as you.”

 “We’ll get there, babe. You’ll see.” Silence ensued after that comment, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Your arms ached wanting to hold this woman in them right now and just reassure her. After a moment, you steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, I was kind of hoping that maybe tomorrow after work we could spend some time together. I’ve got something I need to show you.”

 Grateful for the change, she answered, “Really, what’s that?”

 “Oh no, you’re not going to ruin the surprise. You’ve just got to wait and see. So, can I pick you up about seven?”

Finally relenting with a, “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you my new address.”

 It was a step you didn’t think she would take, that she did, had your heart soaring. “Excellent!”

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The appointment on Tuesday is at four in the afternoon. Did you want to meet me there or go together?”

 Was this really a question, you could only imagine the stares, you would receive walking in to an OB/GYN office by yourself. “Honestly, I’d feel a bit weird walking in there by myself. Could I pick you up at the office or wherever you’re going to be and we’ll go together?”

 The light chuckle she gave, told you she already knew your reply. “I had a feeling. And yes, I’ll probably be at work; so, if you wouldn’t mind coming there, that would be great.” Plans made for the next few days, your adrenaline was pumping; knowing that you’d get to see her two days in a row. “I should probably let you get a nap; you’ve got a big game.”

 Frowning, time was always too short with her. You longed for those days when she would be around constantly; sharing naps with you. Sighing, you knew that time would come soon enough. “Yeah, I probably should. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, maybe we could grab something to eat too. Gotta keep you two healthy.” It was also an ulterior motive to be around her longer.

 “Sounds good. Have a good game Ty.”

 “Thanks, babe. I love you.” The last part automatically coming out of your mouth, but the words were always true. Silently you willed her to say them back.

 “Me too.” It wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but then again, she didn’t hang up on you either. Laying the phone down on the table; you focused on what tomorrow would bring, closing your eyes, dreaming of all the possibilities that your future held with (Y/N) by your side.

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Skylar(OC)/Law One-Shot

The benefits of being hyper means I get extra writing done lol So inspiration for this is taken directly from my mystery prompts list from the event, but also it was an idea I knew I wanted to use in my fic at some point. So, while this is currently written as a one-shot, it will appear in the fic at a later point, when the story gets to when this takes place. I have a lot of fun writing Skylar and Law interactions, especially when they’re in that kind of weird “I kinda like you a little bit maybe but hell no I’m not gonna say that to anybody not even myself” stage haha hope you enjoy! 

Tradition: “Baby, it’s cold outside…”

White filled Skylar’s vision as she stared, open-mouthed, through the porthole. Fluffy mounds piled high on the hills far beyond the docks, lay flat on the rooftops in the town nearby, fell in perfect forms from the heavens to rest on the ground below. 

Damn, she owed Shachi 500 belli.

Racing through the Polar Tang, she quickly made her way to the top floor, ready to run right out onto the wooden deck. She was stopped before she even touched the door by a large hand grabbing her by the shirt.

“Where are you going, Skylar-ya?”

Skylar blinked at him, trying to squirm out of his tight grip. “Outside? Duh! It’s snow! I wanna touch it!” But Law made no move to let her go, instead raising a brow and scowling at her bright grin.

“You’re not seriously planning on going out in just that…?” He really didn’t think she could be that stupid. Sure it was only a bit below freezing, but considering the weather where she was from, frostbite would set in faster. Not to mention her risk for hypothermia. Even he was wearing a coat for crying out loud!

“Oh come on, Law, it can’t be that cold,” She huffed indignantly, putting her hands on her hips the best she could despite him still gripping her collar. 

“You need a coat.”

“Don’t have one. I’ll be fine, now let. me. go!” She continued struggling against him, but his grip just tightened, dragging her down the hall to the men’s quarter’s. After finally realizing he wasn’t going to let up, Skylar dropped to the ground and crossed her arms, forcing him to literally drag her along behind him like some petulant child. Law snagged for only a second, jolted by the sudden increase in weight, but kept to his task, determined to find something for her to wear. He wasn’t about to replace his, albeit unaffiliated, cook.

“Hey, make yourselves decent,” he called through the door after knocking, waiting for the shuffling to stop before walking inside with the obnoxious woman still on the floor behind him. A few of his men stood around, having just finished dressing themselves in hats, scarves, and gloves. “We need an extra boiler suit, who’s got one?”

Ignoring the woman’s squeals of “please don’t make me wear that!”, Law waited for his men to check their chests, feeling his scowl deepen when they all came up empty.

“Sorry, Cap...I think they’re all in the laundry room.” Right, tomorrow was laundry day. Dragging his free hand down his face, Law sighed and left the room, waving his men off to enjoy their day. He dragged Skylar further down the hall, the woman finally attempting to stand up after complaining about her bottom hurting (not that Law was paying attention to that, of course). He pushed open his bedroom door, commanding the woman to sit on the couch while he searched for a spare jacket.

Skylar, continuing to be an overall brat, sat down on the floor instead. At Law’s exasperated look, she just huffed, turning her head away before answering, “I will die before I sit on that ugly, yellow fucking couch.” 

On second thought, maybe he should let her just freeze to death.

Breathing deep through his nose, Law turned to his closet, groaning slightly when he too came up empty-handed. Apparently he only owned the one coat, and as he was already wearing it, that meant she couldn’t. Of course, he could just give it to her for now; being from the North Blue, he was more well-suited to the cold, enjoyed it even, and would be able to handle being out longer without it than she would. 

Then again, it was his coat. 

Skylar jolted in surprise when she felt a hunk of fabric hit her in the face. Looking at the bundle in her hands, she recognized the smiling face from Law’s favorite yellow hoodie. “That should help keep you warm until we can get to a shop. Don’t get it dirty.” Skylar pouted, but began putting it on anyway; Law was standing directly in front of her only exit, and she knew he wouldn’t move until she did as he said.

“I mean, I’d be the one washing it anyway,” she said, wrinkling her nose as a new smell hit her. Taking a quick whiff of the hoodie’s collar, she barked out a cough, covering her nose and holding the fabric as far away as she could. “Fucking hell, please let me wash this you are disgusting!” She let out a squeal as he plopped his hat on her head, scalp already itching from the material. “Jeez, what are you a fucking goblin? I’m washing this too! God, I’m gonna have to take like three showers to get your stink off of me!” Yet underneath the stench, Skylar didn’t miss the underlying scent of antiseptic and a soap that reminded her of the woods back home in the spring. When his back finally turned so he could open the door, she caught herself taking another sniff.

She took off as soon as the door opened, speeding back through the sub all the way to the deck, running over the gangplank, onto the docks, only to slip at the end and go barreling into a large snowbank. She quickly sat up, hands and nose burning as she tried to extricate herself from the snow. It was hard to do with how much she was shivering, and she swore if the guys still on deck didn’t stop laughing at her, she’d poison their dinners, Law be damned.

“W-w-w-why is sn-snow so f-f-f-f-f-fucking cold?! Why d-d-d-do people l-l-l-l-l-live here?!”

Law facepalmed from his position on the docks. He’d warned her.

“Come on, we need to get you someplace warm before your nose falls off,” he deadpanned, coming up next to her. Skylar blanched under the redness forming along her nose and cheeks, matching her ungloved hands.

“C-c-c-can that r-r-really happen?!” She squeaked, taking his offered hand to pull herself up.

“Sometimes. Wrap your hands in the sleeves, that hoodie’s big enough on you to cover yourself twice; take advantage of it.” For once not arguing with him, she did as he said, the warm fabric instantly taking some of the bite away from her fingers. She buried her nose in the stinky fabric as best she could, choosing to focus on the underlying “Law” scents rather than the “stinky, unwashed hoodie” scents. 

Looking like a bright yellow, spotted turtle, she waddled down the streets next to him, likely walking closer than necessary, but wholly uncaring. He radiated body heat, and while she hated admitting he was right about the cold, she’d take what she could get to get warm again. 

For his part, Law let her walk too close, keeping focused so as not to accidentally step on her. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking note of the shade of red she’d become from the snow. Hopefully they’d avoided frostbite, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he could actually examine her. He watched the way frost fell from her eyelashes as green eyes squinted against the wind, her silver hair blowing from underneath his hat. He’d actually had to hold in a laugh as she walked with his hoodie bunched up around her face, the bright fabric still reaching almost to her knees from the size difference. It was a shame she hated yellow so vehemently; she looked damn good in his sweatshirt.

Not that he’d tell her that. Or anyone else for that matter. In fact, reader, forget you read that; nobody needs to ever know that thought once crossed his mind.

Finally, they came across a shop selling winter coats, nestled near a small alley a few streets away from the inn they’d be staying at. Law ushered Skylar inside, smirking at the way she shivered in the sudden warmth. The shop was small, but cozy, with racks upon racks of coats, scarves, hats, and gloves in a rainbow of colors. They started for one of the women’s racks, when suddenly a loud voice called out to them from the sales counter.

“Oh, honey, what on earth are you wearing?! Baby, it’s cold outside! You need more than just a hat and a sweatshirt in this weather!” The duo whirled around to see a small, wrinkled old lady sitting behind the counter, glaring and wagging her finger at the Surgeon of Death like it was nothing. “And you! Be a proper gentleman and give that poor girl your coat! I swear, men today have no manners when it comes to treating women properly!” 

As Law sneered at the menacing finger wagging in his face, Skylar devolved into a fit of snorts and giggles, wisely choosing to go about the task of finding winter clothing instead of openly laughing in his face. He glanced back at her, ignoring the old woman for now. “Make sure you get everything; you’re more susceptible to the cold than the rest of us are, and it’s doubtful this will be the only winter island we stop at.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Skylar said, waving him off much to his annoyance. He kept his gaze on her as she perused the selection of coats, seeming stuck on what color to get.

“Don’t get those, get the yellow one,” he said, without really thinking about it. She scoffed at him.

“Ew, no. What is it with you and yellow?” Law shrugged.

“It’s your color,” he smirked at the way she gagged.

“You’re disgusting. I’m getting purple. Just to spite you.”

“What else is new?” his smug grin widened at her glare, but he left her to pick out the rest of her gear: a white hat, scarf, and pair of gloves. As they walked up to the counter, Law grabbed a pair of fluffy yellow earmuffs as well, to be safe, and opened a room while she wasn’t paying attention. Placing her items on the counter, Skylar began searching for her wallet, and Law quickly switched out the white scarf for a bright yellow one, discarding the room after doing so. The entire purchase was in the bag before she even looked up.

“Skylar-ya, stop looking for your wallet, it’s back on the sub. I’ll pay.”

“Dammit Trafalgar, stop taking my damn money!”

“Sweetie, let the man pay. It’s the least he can do for making his poor girlfriend walk around in the cold like that. You know you can find better than this, don’t you honey?”

Skylar turned red, from more than the cold this time, and began giggling again as Law fumed. His face had turned a rather interesting shade of crimson, and he slammed the money on the counter before grabbing his companion by the hood of his sweatshirt and dragging her out the door. Skylar gave a surreptitious wave to the old woman as the door slammed shut behind them.

Back out in the cold, Skylar began putting on her new purchases, amazed at how much warmer she felt from even just the jacket. Reaching into the bag as Law took his hat back, she paused, noticing a few...oddly colored items.

“Law…” He hummed. “Why is there a yellow scarf and earmuffs in here?”

“So you stay warm, obviously,” He replied, face turning smug. “Put everything on, it’s too cold to go without.”

“I fucking hate you,” She seethed, yanking the earmuffs over her white hat and tying the offensively bright scarf around her face. Law gave her no response, just waited for her to finish before starting down the road to the inn. As she fell into step beside him, he felt her anger dissipate as he situated his hat back how he liked it.

“Thank you…” Law glanced at her. “For not letting me freeze to death.” He smiled, more genuinely this time.

“If you froze to death, I’d need to find a new cook, and I don’t think the crew will tolerate me in the kitchen ever again.” Skylar laughed at that, agreeing with him, and they continued down the road in companionable silence.

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Roses

Chapter 4: Pink Roses

Welcome back my sweet readers!  If you wanted the fluffy stuff this is the chapter for you! Enjoy! 

Summary:  Home is a wonderful place to be. 

Pink Roses:  A deep or hot pink rose can convey gratitude, appreciation, recognition and is a great way to say “thank you,” while a light or pale pink rose conveys grace, gentleness, joy, and happiness.

Flashback 

Ino clutched onto Sai as lights flashed across the sky and thunder shook the house.  It wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last that he snuck into her room to keep her company during a thunderstorm.  When she was younger her fears were far worse and it was only through sheer consequence that she realized having Sai there helped calm her worries.  Ever since then he would sneak into the Yamanaka house and would hold her till the rain stopped. He never teased her about her fear and they didn’t talk through it, it was just enough to be together.

“Let’s try something different tonight.”

She looked up at him worried and unsure.  “What?” 

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”  Her response was automatic.  

“Then come on.”  He wrapped her in a blanket and led them to her balcony pulling her forward when she tried to pull him back into the room.

“Ino, trust me.”  She took a deep breath and nodded following him out into the rain.  Surprising her he had a blanket and pillows laid out on the floor and had her sit. 

“We’re facing your fears together.”

He held her while the lightning flashed, the rain fell and the thunder resounded.  She’d jump up and duck her head into his shoulder ever so often but she stayed there trusting him knowing that he’d never let anything hurt her. 

As the storm carried on it became less frightening and something more beautiful and exciting.  Her fears felt unfounded and she began to enjoy seeing the lightning across the sky and feeling the thunder rumble.  And it was all because of him. 

“Better?”  He asked with a smile.

“Yes, but don’t think that this gets you out of coming here .”

He just chuckled drawing her closer. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Later that night Inoichi found them asleep at the glassdoor that led to Ino’s balcony.  He knew that for years that Sai would “sneak in” to help Ino during these storms.  It seemed though that this time they walked through that storm together.  

End Flashback

Sai stared at the blank canvas in front of him.  The fact that he had become a well-known artist was a fortunate consequence of him surviving a traumatic childhood.  He used art as a way to process his parents’ death and his relationship with his “father.” Art was always his escape, his way to protect himself.  The longer he was away from home though, the less inspired he was.  Danzo was nothing if not a talented businessman. His work was still heralded as being innovative and cutting edge despite the fact that it was his most clinical and uninspired.  Ultimately his name was enough to convince these art people that his work was something special. He needed his art now to deal with all the events of the past month. 

He started to paint while thinking about her. The conversation with Ino went better than he could have hoped for.  She was still loving and understanding even if he didn’t deserve her forgiveness.  Thankfully, she wanted to have a relationship with him.  What that meant though still needed to be determined. They had both grown up shaped by the various experiences and trials they’d undergone but he could admit to himself that he loved her more now than he ever had before. She was far kinder, stronger and more beautiful than his mind could have ever dreamed. It only made him wish that they could finally take that next step together. 

He read her first letter to him and it brought him back to when they were still naive teenagers. She was sweet, encouraging and hopeful and it hurt that he never had a chance to respond.  So he wrote her a reply, and it helped him to process his feelings from that time, ones that he never dared to revisit. It was an opportunity of healing for him and he hoped that maybe one day he’d be strong enough to give them to her. 

They had been texting each other back and forth and the last few nights her voice was the last thing that he heard before he fell asleep.  It was so easy falling back into old routines and familiar conversations. Ultimately they decided to try to rebuild their friendship and maintain appropriate boundaries while at school.  This would clearly be much easier said than done but it was the best that either of them could do. 

During class, they maintained their roles never giving anyone an opportunity to question their relationship. Thankfully she was a good student so there was no reason for him to give her special treatment nor did she expect it. 

She would visit him during his office hours.  Sometimes she actually had questions, most of the time it was just because she wanted to spend time with him and he didn’t have the heart to send her away.  She had grown and become a woman of the world and her interactions with him away from prying eyes had become more flirtatious. She’d learned just what to say and do to have someone do exactly what she wanted.  Within the confines of his office, she was never more than a few feet apart from him, invading his space and consciousness. The smell of roses lingered long after she left. She always found a reason to be seated right next to him or would ask him to help her with a skill or technique.  Her hands would be warm and tucked in his while he tried to explain the art method. The time spent together made it easier to believe that they could finally become something more. Maybe they were ready for a different relationship. 

Using one hand he answered her call smiling at seeing her name appear on his phone. “Dad expects you for dinner tomorrow night.”  She announced. 

He dropped the paintbrush in his hand. “Sai?  Did the call get dropped?” She wondered aloud not hearing a response. 

He shook his head coming back to Earth. “No, sorry I’m here.”

“He found out that you’re back in town and was pretty insistent that you come by and he knows you’re my professor, it’s hard keeping anything from him.”  She was rambling but he’d become adept at understanding her even while panicked. “He wanted you to come by then mom started piling on and I said that you were going to be here tomorrow night.  I can tell them you got sick or something…”  Ino was happy with how their relationship had been progressing.  She noticed how his eyes would linger on her and the sweet blush that would paint his face whenever she got close to him.  Perhaps he was finally accepting and seeing what she'd known all along.  They were meant for each other.  She was worried though that this dinner with her family might scare him away. 

“No, that’s not necessary.  I’d love to come by for dinner.”

“Really?”

“Inoichi was more of a father to me than Danzo ever was.  It would be nice to see them again.” 

Ino was stunned speechless this time.  “Ino? Hello? Did the call actually get dropped?”

“Thank you, Sai.”  He could hear the sincere appreciation in her voice.

“I’m happy to be welcomed back.” He respected Inoichi and appreciated how much he’d opened his home to him when they were younger. Sai knew that it might be awkward. He and the older Yamanaka had things to discuss.  If he ever wanted something more with Ino he needed her father's support. 

*

**

Despite how nervous he was walking up to the Yamanaka house it felt like a real homecoming. “Sai.”  Inoichi greeted him with warmth and familiarity. He was older but his eyes were still kind and inviting. 

The older man pulled him into a hug and it felt safe and comforting.

“Welcome home son.”

Home, for so long it had been such a foreign concept.  But, the only time he ever felt like he was home was with Ino and with the Yamanakas.  

It was just as he remembered it. Fresh flowers dotting every room, the large blue couch where they would waste hours away watching movies. There was a large window where he’d often sit and paint. They always left that area clear for him to use. Even now it was there ready for him. 

Ino's mother was just as excited to see him fanning her tears while she hugged him.  “Sai, oh baby you’ve grown up so much! You’re so handsome. I heard your last piece was sold for over 100 million yen!”  He just nodded embarrassed by the attention. 

She just smiled with pride shining in her eyes.  The little boy that used to be so shy and nervous all the time had become such an accomplished man. “I joked with Inoichi that we should have sold one of the paintings that you gave us, but then you paid for Ino’s tuition so we didn’t really need the extra money anymore.” 

The house became eerily silent after the revelation. The Yamanaka matriarch looked around the room confused by the tense silence. Ino wordlessly grabbed Sai and dragged him out of the room. 

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”  There was no point in lying, she wouldn’t believe him anyway.

“What? How is that possible?”  She blabbered confused.  

“I wanted to do something to thank you for everything you did for me growing up. So I contacted your dad without Danzo knowing and wired him the money.  It was after my first big sale. I asked him not to tell you.” She never asked how her tuition was paid her dad just assured her to not worry about it. This was not what she expected at all. 

“Sai…”. The whole time that she was angry and upset with him leaving he was still thinking about her and taking care of her. 

“Don’t think too much about it. I was happy to help you follow your dreams.  You always supported mine.” He never expected her to find out, especially not like this. He didn’t want her to worry about money when he had more than he knew what to do with. When he contacted Inoichi he tried to convince Sai to talk to her. He rejected the idea worried about her feelings towards him after they’d been apart for so long. This was just something that he needed to do. 

Her arms wrapped around him, thankful and overwhelmed. There were no words to express her gratitude and it only added on to the reasons why she loved him. 

He held onto her tightly still thinking that the gesture paled in comparison to how much she’d done for him.  

Dinner reminded him of the ones he’d had so many times when they were younger. The Yamanaka house had been his safe haven for so long and just being there made him feel comfortable and content. It was as though this was where he should have always been. 

*

**

“Let’s go talk on the porch son.” 

“Daddy! Be nice.” Ino tried to intervene but Sai shook his head. 

“Ino, it’s fine,” Sai assured her with a smile before following Inoichi outside. 

They took a seat on the porch looking at the flower-filled garden.  The purple bush clovers were just starting to come in. The view never failed to inspire him. 

“She was really torn up when you left.  She’s a strong girl and I never imagined I’d see her like that.  Then when her letters kept getting sent back it only reopened old wounds.” Inoichi explained thoughtfully but it hurt remembering that time and how helpless he felt. 

There was no anger in his voice, it was just a matter of facts.  “I’m sorry-“ 

“Don’t be, Danzo had custody and you couldn’t have stopped him. We tried. Still, you became a world-class artist, so it wasn’t all bad.”  He told him with a warm smile. It was the worst kept secret that Danzo wasn’t the best father. Danzo hadn’t done anything illegal or abusive so despite his disdain for the man there was nothing that he could do.  He had to play nice with him for the kids’ sake knowing that he would keep Sai away from Ino if pushed too far. Once Sai became more locally and nationally well known Danzo had begun plans to move him away from the country. He knew that once Sai was of age he would no longer have any control over his actions. No one was surprised by the international move.  If they had stayed Sai wouldn’t have served as his cash flow. Unfortunately, Sai had to bear the brunt of the man’s selfishness and greed. He’d faced a lot of difficulties coupled with a lack of control over his own life. Through it all Inoichi was very proud of him.  

Sai just shrugged.  He knew that he should be grateful and yet he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the guilt.  “I guess I just wish that it hadn’t affected her so much. I never meant to hurt her.”

“I know that you never would do so intentionally. Otherwise, I would have never let you hang around her the way that you did.  I think that she knows that too.  Sai, I know how you feel about her. It’s been obvious for years.” Sai had nothing to say in response, there was no denying his feelings. 

“You’ve always been like a son to me. I trust her with you. Please don’t break her heart.” There was no malice or threat. It was a sincere request from a father that loved his daughter. 

“I would never do that…Father.”  The title only felt right with him and one day he hoped that it would really be true. 

Inoichi smiled knowing that there was a shared understanding.  That his daughter was safe with Sai.  

He did always want to be a grandfather. Inoichi thought to himself wistfully. 

*

**

 “Thanks for coming to dinner Sai,”  Ino told him gratefully. This felt natural.  Being home with her parents and him right next to her, enjoying a meal together.  How she missed moments like this. 

His eyes softened as he placed a warm hand against her cheek. “When I was away people asked me about my family and home.  I always told them about you, your family and this house. You have always been my home.”

With her eyes wide open he kissed her and despite how nervous he was and how his heartbeat rapidly, this felt right.  Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she tried to reassure herself that this was, in fact, real and not some feverish dream.  She kissed him back and her lips were far sweeter and softer than he could have imagined.  He pulled her closer into his body deepening the kiss.  She clutched onto him her body rubbing deliciously against his wanting more, but he had enough sense to remember just where they were.  

Sai knew that he was taking a big chance.  There were still so many unknowns but for once in his life, he was taking control of the situation.  He’d been forced to live the way that he had because of events and decisions out of his control, this time he was taking what he wanted.  He couldn't deny himself and her this any longer. 

“Good night Beautiful.”  He kissed her forehead before making his exit Ino still breathless and surprised.  It hurt to leave her there and he was tired of these days and nights apart. Soon enough he assured himself, soon she’d finally be his.

Wouldn't it be nice to have a handsome, rich artist pay for school?  :sigh:

How I wish Inoichi had been alive to be a father figure to Sai... Guess that’s what fanworks are for :D

We're racing to the end.  I'm used to writing more one-shots so writing a longer story is a different challenge for me.  I have a few more things up my sleeve but I've got the rest of this pretty much mapped out.  Thanks for all the support!  I love you all! 

Roses:

Chapter 1: Roses

Chapter 2: Yellow Roses

Chapter 3: Purple Roses

Chapter 4: Pink Roses 

[dobriking]

Bend Into A Break (2)

Summary: Not one, but two vlog-squads came with the death of Vine. And the rumored beef between you two is absolutely true! So, you and David (begrudgingly) set up a month long-retreat among your groups to film team challenges and go against each other. Y’know. For views. Pairing: David Dobrik x Reader, Enemies to Lovers, living together. Warnings: Profanity, Arguing

1 | 2 | 3

“Sorry, what?” Heath’s the first before the outbreak.

With your hands hooked together in front of your stomach, you take in a breath but don’t find the courage to let anything out. He’s not mean — certainly not to you at least — but his voice is so harsh about it. You look to David thinking he’d have something to say to tame Heath but he looks back at you. He’s not smiling snobbishly or anything. He’s keeping the baton passed to you.

And inside his head, there’s nothing malicious about it. He admits despite what he knows about this whole thing that it’s best if you explain it.

“We — me and David uh…” one last look and this time he encourages you with a nod. Your two groups, sitting as scrunched together as can be on David’s living room couch, bond with looks over how peculiar this is. “We decided that…it would be really good in terms of content and material means to—“

He drops the supportive look and rolls his eyes, stepping up to shout (quite coolly), “We’re going to be living and fighting with each other for a little bit. No big deal.”

In a moment of worry none of David’s group has ever seen, your Cody breaks the silence with a strained, “What?”

And then hell breaks loose.

“I-I think,” Drew looks around, “I think this is a joke…or-or something…”

Cody crosses his arms. “Definitely not funny.”

“Cause I am definitely not living with him.” Zane snorts almost, pointing to Cody without sparing a look.

You smile, balls of your cheeks as high as you can raise them. “Well good! Cause you are!” David chokes on his laughter and that provokes everybody even more.

Heath jumps from his spot, betrayed and pointing to David with both hands. “You’re in on this?!”

Noel squeezes himself deeper into the armrest. “No shit he’s apart of this.”

Heath stops, looking to David (who gives him nothing) then Zane. He claps, stomps, and shouts, “The fuck you just say to me!?” He finds the amusement at how fast all of this blew up on Cody’s face too condescending, and Cody claps his hands to his knees while looking at Heath with a mocking glare.

"He said no shit he's apart of this, dumbass!"

Standing, Heath begins to yell at Cody and Noel. Poor Drew is stuck in the middle of it, as quiet as Scott, Corinna, Amanda, Toddy — everybody that isn’t Zane, Heath, Cody, and Noel. Zane even stretches over Drew to yell in Noel’s face, clapping periodically when his voice gets its highest.

David jumps seeing how far back your eyes roll into your head. He just about thinks he’s kickstarted a seizure — so he goes “HEY!” and shuts everybody up.

“Guys, stop. Look, me and Y/n agreed to this together, okay? So if everybody would just sit down…?” His hands fan down. Heath is wary but he does. Cody, however, can’t help but stick his tongue out at him like a child, squishing his eyes nearly shut. The only thing that keeps Heath seated is you and your piercing eyes.

David holds his hands to present you. “Y-you wanna…?” He stutters.

You step forward but resist looking at anybody. You only look to various points in the room that could classify as ‘staring into space,’ mostly to avoid catching an irritating set of eyes that discourages you.

“So…” you start. David nods. It’s a bit of a push to get you to continue, “everybody on this website knows we hate each other. Okay well not really. We know we hate each other, the fans think this is just a fun little rivalry. If we do this they’re going to go absolutely crazy—“

Corinna raises her hand. You’d say she’s a sweetheart as she’s never been too harsh with you but you can’t shake the feeling that she’s judging you whenever she looks your way. You point and she puts her arm down, crossing them and leaning back against the wall (Toddy by her side). “We don’t even know what this is. So can you like—“

“Yeah, can you guys explain it?” Toddy interrupts.

Corinna scoffs and distances herself a little bit.

Shame to say not everybody is in this room. Only the “OG” group is present. And OG in itself is a tricky thing. You’d say the people present are the most beloved of your two groups, the ones in your vlogs most consistently, and the ones that have been around the longest. It’s even more of a shame to say that Tom isn’t here because the damn Brit is off being British in Britain. Your group is outnumbered. Even though Gabbie isn’t here, the addition of Natalie still puts you at odds.

You sigh, knowing to deal with it later. “The idea is that our two groups battle each other over the course of a month."

“Oh.” Cody pipes. “Yeah, I’d be willing to beat up this guy.” A thumb points over to Heath.

“Oh screw you.”

“No,” you pinch your nose, “not that kind of fight. Fun fights like volleyball. Or dodgeball or hell I don’t know, tennis maybe — shit you’d do on Field Day in elementary school. It’d be great for all of our channels, good for merch, good for sales cause I know that’s all some of you care about.” Noel just has to gasp out loud at the diss you whispered. “TLDR; we host a team-event with goals and prizes and take over Youtube, basically.”

They all hum.

Chloe’s in thought squinting at the ceiling. Emily is in a similar state but comes to her conclusion earlier. “So wait we’re like…the Jake Paulers and Logang…ers, now?”

You blink. “No.” But technically, “Wait, maybe. Never-mind that!”

“Wait wait wait,” Heath holds up a finger. “You said we were going to be living together.” That finger points to David.

"That's like the Team Ten house!" In comes the overlapping chatter.

You smile. “Yes. That’s cause it was David’s idea that we do. So!” You pull an expandable metal pointer from your sleeve (to the surprise of many) and David steps to the side, revealing his television. He glares softly for calling him out but the transition was so quick there’s no chance for retaliation. Natalie (thankfully yet to be caught in the crossfire) starts up the same presentation you showed him. Though you took in the time to add some of his ideas.

“I got in touch with my agent and found two possible places we could all pack up and yes, live in together!”

A shared groan. The boys on the couch begin flailing about like grumpy babies without enough space.

David jumps with the picture that pulls up. He does a double take, one at the screen and the other at you. He’ll never not admit you work your ass off, that’s for sure.

“The first option is the Ella Rose Estate, second is the Houdini Mansion.”

As the soft name may suggest, the Ella Rose is beautiful. It's painted white with a dark grey, almost black rooftop (for contrast) and despite vines and moss eating up most of the front side, the pop of color is what adds to the beauty. Only $1,500 a night although that might change with twenty fucking people, but it has a medium sized pool in the back and a more contemporary to modern aesthetic. Its size will certainly be a hassle getting around in with so many people but maybe that’s a good thing.

As for the Houdini…you flip to the pictures of that (also white on the outside with dark roofing) and the whole room jumps. Cody buries the side of his body deeper into the couch, and Zane looks back to see if his group is seeing what he is.

David jumps as well. Quite the change indeed.

It’s a Victorian-esk mansion on the outside, beautiful and pristine, but the inside (while kept up) is dark with everything made of stainless, shining cherry wood, and decorations which also point toward the Victorian aesthetic.

“David! You tryna put us in a horror movie?” Zane shouts.

“We’re already in one,” you mutter.

Natalie keeps flipping through and everybody is very audible with their chills. The house is beautiful (as Erin and Carly note, lips pressed tight but impressed with the pictures you’ve picked) but everything without the lights is so damn dark.

Beautiful, but dark.

However, it is very spacious. The dining room (depending on how you space the chairs) could hold 10 people on a side. And for the bedrooms you explain, “Houdini Mansion actually used to be an orphanage—“

“Nuh-uh!” Zane jumps and pulls his legs under him. “Don’t even try to tell me that place isn’t haunted!”

You grin. “Actually tourists report—“

“HELL NAH!”

“Yeah no."

“Noooo no no no no!”

People actually have the audacity to start leaving the room!

You drop your hands to your side, speechless frankly. When you were in school and your teachers started boasting about how immature you were being you always thought they were being overdramatic. This is the equivalent of students leaving three minutes before the bell. If they would just sit and listen they’d know where you were going with this. There's a pang in your chest for all the teachers you underestimated.

Because here you are with a bunch of actual children.

David doesn’t pay attention to the escaping flock. He looks at the presentation carefully. It’s on a photo of the entrance room. The composition isn't centered but straight ahead there’s the staircase (one of two he assumes), to the right is the kitchen separated with a glass door, and past the stairs is a horizontal hallway and another room he can see. He never-minds the fear of any extra cost you’ll have to pay in damages, and with a giggle and his tongue poking out of his mouth he goes, “I’m in. I choose this one.”

Somewhere in everybody’s collective mind, a record-scratch can be heard. People look over their shoulders for him to repeat, “I've decided. We’re going.”

Chloe chokes. “You can’t make us go.”

David ‘pouts’ and you do too. It’s not even on cue but the way your heads tilt inward and your arms go limp by your sides is so coincidental it's frightening.

You grimace. “Oh, but I can.”

David clicks his tongue and sighs. “Guess it’ll just be Y/n and me.”

“For a month getaway.”

“I mean — I guess it's fine since we’re the only two that’ll have a share of the money, I dunno—“

“FINE!” Heath steps forward, and so does Zane. You find it strange how Cody and Noel only step forward when they do. They return to their spots on the couch but this time poor Drew has some air to breathe now that he’s decided it’s best to stand up.

“Yes,” Cody seethes, rubbing his eye, “Y/n…continue.”

You nod at Natalie and she goes to the next slide.

“David’s crew will be red, mine will be blue. Which means for a month the only color any of us will be wearing is our team’s.” Enya (Always looking damn good in red) grunts into her first and slaps her chair’s arm. You look solemnly at her but shrug it off knowing full well that girl can pull off blue.

Carly raises her hand. “Okay wait. What don’t you classify as ‘colors?’”

David picks at his lips and mumbles “Black, silver.”

You shrug, “White. Also, you could get away with wearing black the whole time if you dye your hair.” It’s true. She feels at some tuffs between her fingers, getting along with this idea.

“Me and David would come up with challenges and things that can be won from those challenges. David will keep uploading Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I’ll keep uploading on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And each day we will post a challenge spliced in with other shenanigans.” You look at him and keep eye contact. “And David and I can figure out what we’ll do on Sunday cause we agreed that we want a steady stream of content so whatever it is will probably be small or just between us like a uh…?”

“Q&A?” Cody suggests.

Bless Cody and his words which break your eye contact with David. “Uh yeah. That’s actually a good idea. We’ve also agreed it’s only fitting that David's his team’s leader and I’m my team’s leader—“

Corinna raises her hand, “What do you have in mind for merch?” but doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge before she lowers it.

“Well I haven’t gotten to—nevermind, we’ll get to that. Typical shirts, those like short-short 70s shorts, leg-warmers, headbands and uh…?”

“Bandanas,” David pipes up. He picks at the corner of his eyes. “Socks, backpacks, water bottles and stuff.”

“And how do we figure out where we’ll be staying?” Chloe asks.

You keep your lips shut.

David’s unsure if he should continue or not. But when his extended groan fails to jolt you out of your stasis, he steps forward and lazily gestures the presentation behind him. Natalie flips through it sporadically to match up with what he’s saying. You’re just shocked they’ve all become so accepting.

“Well Y/n said she’s already planned a photoshoot. So like, of individual teams, teams together, individual members, members together. And like members would be paired based on their stereotype or something?” He looks for assurance and you nod. “So Amanda and Toddy — you two would be paired I guess. Uh…Heath and Cody, Chloe and Carly, Erin and Emily — ha, that’s ironic. Right?” He nudges you. He’s actually concerned at this point. You look so flustered and he’s chewing on his cheek leaning forward to get a look at you. Thankfully you snap out of it before he looks like a creep.

“Uh yeah. Yeah yeah, that sounds right,” you say.

“Okay wait,” Zane purses his lips. “What kind of photoshoot?”

“We didn’t steal your 200th video idea if that’s what you’re asking.”

He sits back with nothing to say.

“Are we allowed to leave?”

You nod. “You can go do whatever you want in your free time.”

David sniffles. “We might leave to do some stuff too.”

You click your tongue and bask in the silence. But then it gets too awkward for your liking so you clap your hands together and open your arms to any more questions (physically and figuratively). But there are none. Matt perks up but deflates immediately, and the same for the others as they find questions but come to their own conclusions.

“So…” you clap, “sound good?”

The image of you and David standing almost as one, as leaders and together for once submits everybody else into something of children looking up to their apprehensive parents. So they act as such. Some cross their arms, others stomp but ultimately say nothing. And while most begin to pout there’s a select few who couldn’t care less, only thinking of the experience they’ll be able to say they had. They seem content: Carly, Erin, Natalie, Drew, Amanda, Scotty, and Toddy.

“Good!”

David puts his hands in his pockets and begins to sway. “Okay you can go now.”

They sluggishly leave the room and that leaves you two alone in semi-silence. Nothing is said but you react appropriately and together to the curses and hisses thrown around in the next room.

“Well…” you bite your lip, “this is going to be fun.”

David holds his hand to you.

“Yup.”

And you shake it.

TAGS

@wefracturedmotivation @blackhood5sos @i-heart-movies @sinfulmango @edalalalalalala @mostlydobrik @latelycrazy​ (Added the people who liked the original post asking to be tagged. Message me if you don’t want to be, or message me if you would).

[xexilia]

I notice when you do your comics, it applies a certain level of toner. I ended up deciding on the route of using paint brush india ink, and charcoal for toner instead. Does this aesthetic difference change the marketability of graphic novel, compared to just using toner? In the context of the prologue in this web comic, it is used to denote a fog atmosphere. In the upcoming chapter, I might use it for graveyard fog.

I think first I need to establish that what you mean by “toner” is “shading”?

I do use tones, but tonER is the stuff used in and by physical printers. Print tones refer to the dots, lines, etc. that are present in the majority of my work and that Roy Lichtenstein emulated in his paintings. Tones are dots because that’s how printers print; Thousands of dots. The closer together, the more solid the shade or color is. I’m not trying to correct you on terms, but knowing this difference will help you later because I promise, if you buy toner online and expect to get tones, you’ll be disappointed by what arrives in the mail!

So, I think you’re falling into a common trap webcomic artists make in the beginning, which is focusing on the wrong parts of the project. You asked me if this changes marketability; But you didn’t tell me:

What medium do you want to publish in? Do you want to ONLY have your comics online, or do you want to print them?

Who is your target audience and age group?

Do you want to sell or profit off your webcomic?

The first question is important because far too often, webcomic artists design for the web/screens first, foremost, and only; Later, they decide to print a book, and this is when all hell breaks loose. Lots of media (Charcole, watercolors, etc.—media is the art term for materials) can look both better OR WORSE on a screen—this is where technology comes into play, like the scanner you have, the DPI (dots per inch) its able to scan things in at, and the size of scannable area. A lot of my favorite media and mediums (I like pencil on paper), are really delicate drawings—and like a lot of artists who favor these materials, scanners just never seem to do them justice. Lots of fine artists I talk to admit that they feel their work looks best in person, and no matter how high the quality scanner, small, delicate details get lost. Part of it can be a cheap scanner, the wrong DPI setting, but the other part can be the wrong medium (That’s the term for things like canvas or paper), or the wrong SIZE medium.

Size matters; Both in terms of the scanner surface area AND the size of your medium. A lot of people (And I did this myself for a lot of the first book), work on standard size paper—8.5 by 11 inches; But professional artists, print or not, are always better off to work at a LARGER size than the end result will be. When I printed my book, I didn’t come out too terribly for the size I worked in, because manga book page sizes are smaller than their American counter parts. I also knew I planned to print from the first page onward, so everything was designed for print first and web second—this is much easier and less time consuming to do than the reverse, because a lot of print errors can occur that don’t appear on screens—and literally can’t—and can take hours, days, weeks or more to fix, depending on how bad and common the issue is and how many of your pages have this problem. A big one is called moire, which DOES NOT show up on screens; This happens when an artist applies on tone directly over another. Because most of us work digitally these days, it’s even easier for artists to start doing this and not realize the consequence until you print a book. . .and discover all places where tones overlap create this weird square pattern within them—which is called moire. This is why it’s critical to use separate tones for different shades and such, because unlike solid color printing, you cannot overlay tones like you would layers in Photoshop or other such programs. Ignore this at your peril!

My first suggestion before you go to far is; Of you want to ever, EVER print this, print out a copy of a page at home. Even if you’re happy with it, consider how you may be printing or mass producing these things; If you’re going to make them via a copier at Kinko’s, take a page down to a copier at Kinko’s and see what quality you get. If you don’t like it at full size to the ratio you worked in (In other words, printing on the same size paper you created it on), you can get some improvement by using smaller pages—but going UP in page size will cause quality to drop. I now work on paper—digital or not—that’s always 11 by 17 inches AT LEAST. For anything I make, I try to work in a size 3 to 4 times larger than the end result will be.

When I first began, I made my comics with a copier at Kinko’s, and discovered while my ink wash method looked good, it looked better with color printing; Color printing is ALWAYS more expensive, hence why when digital comic creation tools (Like Clip Studio) got invented, I was an instant convert! It saved a lot of time and money (Tones and such are all expensive), the environment (No trees died for my drawings), effort (Tones are REALLY tricky to work with by hand), and it’s no wonder that manga artists now are nearly ALL working digitally.

Also, for the disabled (Like me), digital allows us to work from beds, at home, etc. instead of in front of a desk, all hunched over. I don’t accidentally smudge ink, my cat doesn’t drink my ink (Yes, it’s a thing cats do!), and if I mess up, the power of Undo/Redo/Copy/Paste/Transform CANNOT be understated. I’ve mentioned it before, but I believe in working smarter, NOT harder. This is why I draw out a lot of backgrounds (Which you can’t see on the free copies online, but you can if you buy a physical copy or the Amazon eBook), separately, and I can just drag and drop them around as I need. That way, I can focus on drawing the characters and not on drawing a giant cathedral for every damn appearance it makes or scene change I do.

As for marketability; A lot of this depends on your target audience and age group. Even so, people tend to grow to like something even if it may be atypical of the general stuff they like. I’m generally not a fan of shoujo-ai—but many of my favorite anime and manga ARE in this genre! Turns out, if the story is good, I don’t care about the sexuality of the characters!

A lot of people expect or want color comics these days though, which is odd to me, since the manga produced in Japan is in black and white (Color printing is expensive—even for a major publishing company!) People still read it, and those who expect an artist to make a free webcomic with color pages and update several times a week or month aren’t aware of the time, effort, or consequences. Generally; No, they will NOT buy a book they’ve read for free online (As much as people love to say to support us creators, they rarely actually do), and they damn sure won’t pay for the extra cost of color printing. If you want to see the difference, check out Ka-Blam comic printers and do a price comparison between printing pages in color versus black and white.

Yes, there are people who do a Kickstarter and such and get these funds up front; They are exceptions, not the rules. Consider them—and most artists who make comics or art they make of their own choosing (Not commissions, but only originals), the same as you might someone who plays a sport and decides that they are GOING to play professionally for some orginazation or team—which is, they are counting on being in this LESS THAN 1% of their field. Yes, some people pull it off; The vast majority don’t—and skill isn’t the biggest factor in the end. Just like an athlete with all the promise in the world can have their career ended before it’s begun by an injury that never heals right, art itself is a career path with MANY hidden pitfalls and problems—and health is a major one. Too many of us don’t eat right, don’t exercise our bodies and minds, and so on; It adds up. I personally really recommend a diet with a caloric/carb intake ratio that works within your activity levels; In other words, if you’re determined not to work out (Which—don’t make this mistake), you can’t eat as much as you’d like—not only will you gain weight, but it impacts your health health, your blood sugar—it can be a recipe for an early, but preventable, grave or a LOT of suffering that could be avoided. I try to jog at least two miles a day, meditate daily, and really put my health as the main focus in my life—even before my art. I can’t draw anything or write more stories if I’m dead, after all, and I can’t produce my best work if I’m not in the best condition I can manage. With an autoimmune disease, there’s only so much I can do or control and I’m often still very sick and in a lot of pain; But I still do all I can to run or walk two miles—at least, and even if it takes me an hour or more—and to keep my heart rate at 120 beats per min. when I do. There’s a lot of days where this is about the ONLY thing I can manage and where my pain is so bad I cry and cry—because right now I don’t have a lot of means of relief; This doesn’t happen to everyone, but it means that health—no matter what you do in life—can make or break you at times. Audiences aren’t always understanding of these circumstances and yes, ones career can dry up as a result. Just because someone manages to play for the sports team of their dreams doesn’t mean their health can’t or won’t turn on them, or a serious injury will end their career; We do not live in a world where people will continue to support you because of a series of or singular unfortunate event.

This brings me to the last point, which is if you plan to sell or profit off your work; We all want to, but often making sales can come at the cost of producing something that we, as the creators, really love or are passionate about. I decided from the jump that, while profiting was nice, I’d much rather make the title I wanted to make rather than the one that sells the most copies; If I were concerned with it, trust me, Eternity Concepts would be a wildly different story, with different art, etc. I’d have written a formulaic story that was entirely predictable and changed so many aspects, you’d never recognize it; Manga fans tend to be teens, so I’d have made the cast all teenagers! It’d be set in school! Someone might magically transform to fight evil or some such thing.

I didn’t want that; If you do, there’s no shame in that, but audiences will keep buying and reading what we keep producing, and if we’re too afraid to take a risk on a chance that our story won’t make a dime—because making a dime is the most important part for you—then we can’t be surprised when it’s what people keep buying—because we aren’t even attempting to sell anything else.

Publishing houses (With novels and such) can be really guilty of pushing for changes based on market research; The thing is, the research is often based off past sales of what’s already in the market. Plenty of novels that became classics and best sellers got rejected for years and years until a publishing company was willing to take a chance and discovered that people can, will, and do enjoy new and different things. They might also do market focus group testing—but these are small sample sizes of average people—and your audience may NOT be average people.

All creative pursuits involve risks, at the end of the day; You just have to decide what rewards you want or are willing to sacrifice if you take them.

As for aesthetics, there’s no accounting for taste and I’ve seen plenty of paintings I hated sell for insane amounts of money, plenty of art styles I hated become popular titles, etc.

I will say this; When I, PERSONALLY, see a comic with tones or color, usually that’s digitally produced (It cuts out the need for a scanner!), it looks to me like it’s professionally made—by someone who is on their way or already at such a level.

While a lot of newer artists try to make do with other materials, again, the world is not a kind place and making do is just that—making do. Yes, there are a million and one reasons why one can’t get their hands on better or more professional materials—but sadly, people don’t want to hear excuses, and many successful artists got their tools by working jobs they hated, saving up, living in their cars—making major sacrifices to get to where they are now. There’s no easy road or shortcuts to the end; Yes, I do, sadly, think the mixed media approach you’re trying won’t be favorable towards your marketability—but I could always be wrong (Look at how many MS Paint comics made it big!) There’s a first time for everything.

Comics, though, is also about production speed, and traditional materials can come at the cost of working quicker. I’m a big fan of suggesting people save and wait and invest (And it IS an investment) in serious materials and tools if they wish to be seen and taken as seriously; This means making sacrifices and at the end of the day, plenty of people still won’t like what you make, no matter what tools you have or plot you employ. The person who NEEDS to like it most? . . .Is only you.

You cannot please all of the people all of the time, and the faster you accept that, the happier you’ll be with what you make.

[khdiscussions]

Huge Breakdown: Sleeping Realms Theory

 Tl:dr, I still don’t like the theory, and my rebuttal had almost zero points proven otherwise and you can read the whole thing below of my liveblogging.

The fact that they call Riku’s act an “Act of true love” first of all makes me believe this is meant to sell canon SoRiku and I’m already unimpressed. It shows biased phrasing and takes away from any credibility this theory could ever have with anybody who isn’t a SoRiku shipper because it is ultimately pushing that Sora and Riku are going to be romantically involved and as somebody who really needs to edit her ship list and remove SoRiku...no.

...Okay so the Ultimania already proved this wrong I don’t even have to go through the rest.

Before I go into it, I can see how from just reading their summary, you can fall into the trap, however, the Realm of Sleep and Dreaming Worlds are ultimately the same thing. You cannot enter the Realm of Sleep without Dreaming Worlds unless you are coming to the brink between it and death. As such, it would still require every world Sora visits to be a Dreaming World, and thus have fallen into darkness. Since we know this isn’t the case, my “Alpha Timeline” and “Beta Timeline” labels are fully and 100% accurate. Even the way they describe it “World Line” implies and Alpha and Beta Timeline. If we ignore that KHUx is confirmed to be taking place in data still, the world lines cannot be in the same timeline, as they’d be two separate universes. Meaning the events of Alpha Timeline and Beta Timeline are two separate entities and cannot be condensed into the same Realm.

Meaning even if this is Beta Timeline, Alpha Timeline and anything that happened in it are factually irrelevant, because when Sora and co. slip into the alternate Worldline, because essentially the events of it don’t come to pass or matter. If this was real parallel worlds split, then even if Sora is now inhabiting the mind of his Beta Timeline counterpart (which for the record, he should have his memories if he’s the one who brought them all back) there still needs to be a Beta Riku, a Beta Kairi, etc, otherwise there wouldn’t be Xehanort attacking and even then.

If this is a separate worldline then that still wouldn’t be counted as the same timeline, however. Which the Ultimania directly argues against in its pages when things occur in a single timeline, but I digress.

Other things I find directly wrong as conflicting with power is Sora directly states in KH3 that it was Kairi’s faith in him and her light (her powers alone) that helped him hold his form. Not the PoH’s.

“Riku’s strength comes from his love for Sora”

Actually, in that scene they’re talking about how Riku wants to rescue Aqua, and that’s his desire to “protect what matters.” This is a line that has been paralleled in several games from Riku (most notably in which is Kingdom Hearts 3D) and given the line makes him flashback to Terra, it’s likely that his strength is actually being explained as coming from protecting the people he cared about. Aqua, who gave him the chance to escape the RoD (who he’s trying to protect), Terra, who gave him the Keyblade in the first place, and Sora and Kairi, his two best friends.

When facing the same way, there are also several difference in KH3D’s and KH3′s hair that stand out. They aren’t the same and they point that out in the theory. In this case I don’t think it’s similar enough to be of note.

Second, this does not explain how and why Riku dropped and since he is still dropping a) In the Realm of Darkness into a different realm and different World Line and b) Into a completely separate World Line when he should still be alive in the first. At this point, Riku is alive in the Alpha Timeline and would have no idea of his impending death. A drop should not be necessary. So my Riku point questioning why is still valid.

Xigbar cutting out is also a direct easter egg to us, the viewers to keep us from understanding what’s happening, and not what actually occurs in the game. 

...I want to quit at the logo having bad graphics gradient being used as evidence but I’ll keep going but this kind of shady business practice would likely cause such an amount in distrust that sales after KH3 would plummet and anybody who buys what is the biggest release of the series to be told it’s only that in technicality has no standards. I’m sorry. If this is actually technically KHII.9 my trust in Square and Disney (especially Disney is important, because you should know I am Disney stan 69 and see them as good) is gone. Just poof, gone. No more. And I wouldn’t want to invest in the next big entry because what if it’s just another lie.

(Nitpick: Nomura said an early world in KH3 would be Twilight Town, not that it would be the very first world. Even then, had 0.2 been packaged with KH3 like initially planned, it’s highly likely it and Olympus would’ve been 2.9 anyways.)

(More nitpicks, the TWEWY explanation does not account for the fact that Joshua actually has power to bring people back to life so long as a shred of their soul exists. It sounds like Shibuya got destroyed and Josh saved what little was left of his friends to take to somewhere they could be safe, not necessarily that the Sleeping Realm in specific called out to him. This is again Nitpicking.)

Ansem Reports foreshadow an old plot twist that’s not even valid. Aqua’s magic is now the source that rescued Kairi, not Xehanort’s experiments sending her away. Kairi being flung out the door is also representative of the events of the Island falling and them losing their safety and shelter. It’s not Kairi herself, but Ansem’s arrival on the islands that Xehanort is talking about.

Everything about this seems like it’s trying to invalidate SoKai with the Paopu fruit scene. She eats the fruit. Maybe if you hadn’t opened with “Riku loves Sora and this is Riku’s act of true love” I’d buy that this is real but as it stands the authors come off as salty that SoKai got a Paopu sharing scene.

Kairi’s death is the release of her heart as Nomura called it directly in the Ultimania. I know this was written before the Ultimania’s release but moving on it’s not a death sequence. Even then her death resembles Xion’s so it’d be more inline with the Replica theory floating around, so not a Dream Eater.

“Kairi is the Darkside in the Dive” No.

Even if Kairi did die, her heart has no darkness, all that would happen is she’d fade into darkness. She cannot physically form any dark entity, let alone one that has always been connected to the darkness in Sora’s heart. And yes I read how they point out that it’s made of water but that’s because it’s literally made from the Final World itself. As for where Kairi’s heart is, canon answers this. It’s waiting for Sora, because the Heartless cannot kill or steal her heart through the Lich. Remember back to KH1? Kairi had lost her heart, but rather than form a Heartless, all we got is a body. 

More Ultimania tidbits disproving this, but the Dive to the Heart is meant to take place after the entirety of KH3. This means it’s after Sora leaves to rescue Kairi and has beaten Xehanort.

Kairi being a Chirithy theory my points are still valid on because it doesn’t work. Kairi cannot be a Chirithy because we see her after the drop point in her KH2 outfit. Therefore meaning the cat ears have nothing to do with her after the drop point.

Point on the Dream Portals is accurate and inaccurate. It says they’re ways to travel to other worlds, but everytime they’re used it’s in exactly that way in game. The two pink locations bring Sora closer to the Realm of Light after the Final World, and the second portal takes him into Scala ad Caelum, another world. It ain’t that deep.

More points, Dream Eaters don’t just exist in the Realm of Sleep. Summoning Meow Wow and friends does not matter if they can exist outside of the Realm of Sleep. Scala ad Caelum is implied to be a special world to begin with and I’ll be honest, the Caribbean is probably for ease of gameplay. If anything, I would be more curious in how water in the Realm of Sleep (and memories re:CoM) allows people to walk.

“Gayblade” Your SoRiku bias is showing. (Also Nomura violated a lot of things for rule of cool. You think a gameplay mechanic showing up means something?)

Comparing what happened to Sora and Aqua is very different. Aqua had darkness shoved into her (Nort lite) while Sora actively fell into the deep darkness he was surrounded by. Aqua could’ve emerged from the water, but did not. Sora chased darkness, and fell right in. As for how they saved Aqua in the Alpha Timeline, this wouldn’t have changed? It was Sora using his light to reach Aqua as she fell in the darkness similar to Mickey doing so for her in 0.2, now that she was free of the extra darkness Ansem shoved in her for some fun. It had nothing to do with darkness or sleep.

So we’re talking Toy Story here and his “Not this time” doesn’t add up because if Alpha Timeline is dead and Beta Timeline are a second chance then Xehanort should not have any recollection of the initial timeline/worldline because you still don’t explain why he bothered with following Sora down instead of leaving him to just stay trapped in the Realm of Darkness. There’s no strategic reason to it and Xehanort is a chess master.

“Hey let’s explain shit” Okay first of all the Goofy reference was a way to include the new arc words but without that, the others are all ways to catch up new players so they’d have an idea of what’s going on. There is no in universe reason for it. All of this was excuses for filling in new players. (As for the Unversed: Just because we only see Donald and Goofy at Yen Sid’s Tower does not mean we see what happened to them before they arrived there, jsing. Mickey may have also shown them things. Just because we don’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.) Most of the other memory shenanigans are either just springboards for banter or, in Riku’s case, save your energy for the battle against Xehanort ahead.

The Station of Awakening line is pointless since Sora has visited his dive multiple times in the series. As Roxas and as himself in KH2 and KH1 respectively and a final time in 3D when his heart was taken in by Ven’s armor. The Station of Awakening after all, is essentially the stained glass hearts.

Heffalumps stopped only appearing in dreams when they showed up in Winnie the Pooh. Also the promotional material quotes Nomura admitted using because they sounded cool.

Yellow Kingdom Hearts is on KH1′s cover as well. It’s had more appearances. Stands to reason it’s the more official color. Could also be be based on who, what, and how it’s summoned. 

Keyholes: Both Scala Ad Caelum (born from Xehanort’s heart and Kingdom Hearts) and the final Keyhole are forged to deal with sleeping. It makes sense they’d be the same.

YMX’s warnings are referencing exactly what KH3D Sora did. No more complicated theory necessary.

Skipping the Disney world synopsis because I know these worlds far too well at this point for my own Disney sanity.

Pulling symbolism from KH1 when KH2 wasn’t even planned by this point is wrong and also Riku being true love and light reeks very much of that SoRiku bias I mentioned. Okay skipping all this it’s literally just SoRiku and I’m not here for that. I’m here for the theory, not “Why Riku is Sora’s true love.”

“Riku and Kairi both helped Sora hang around” Except Riku dies at this point in the timeline. You can’t make an argument he’s alive because his heart is guided over by the Lich. What’s helping Sora hold on has nothing to do with what it is, otherwise he would just be another shapeless star, like Namine, the Nameless Stars, or the rest. It’s Kairi’s life that gives him the form to come back to life. Saving his heart has nothing to do with it and it just reeks of that same ship bias that was why I skipped the whole section on sacrifice. These 70 pages are irrelevant because all they do is take importance away from Kairi completely in the story, meaning she’s fundamentally useless besides a dark force. Which means Kairi literally doesn’t matter and can be written out of the story.

Kairi’s heart being lost is a full stop. Her heart was released at the end of the game. Saying it’s lost in the Lich sequence makes no sense, especially when she’s the one who guides him back in what is, as noted by PhoenixDowner’s translations, one of the more romantically weighted scenes of the game.

Summary of the more recent pages “SoKai is noncanon and you’re just being mislead it’s actually SoRiku that’s canon” and I’m starting to see where that anon came from...you could’ve saved this theory a hundred pages if you ignored the shipper stuff.

Everything in this ending is literally saying “Kairi doesn’t matter” and “Sora doesn’t care about bringing Kairi back” what the actual fuck?

Okay so I see a lot of talk about Sora and Riku being in the Sleeping Realms (which for the record that secret ending does not tease that but okay) but it still doesn’t explain how the events actually happened. The events of the Sleeping Realms are not the true reality. They’re Beta Timeline but if they never leave the Beta Timeline then the Alpha Timeline is still lost and legitimately none of this matters because at some point they have to leave the Sleeping Worlds, because at the end of the day the Realm of Sleep is still a dream. It still doesn’t happen?

Rage Form is Sora harnessing his darkness.

Rikunort is KH1′s Riku’s heart after he fell to darkness traveling to the awaiting vessel in the future. He’s not Data Riku, and the scene cited from Re:coded is actually a Riku memory held within the Journal’s data, not something happening to Data Riku at all.

In conclusion: I don’t think it’s all a garbage SoRiku fanfiction.

But I think way too much effort went into proving SoRiku was canon.

And also most of the holes I poked in the theory are still pretty valid. 

And now I also know it’s contradicted by several Ultimania interviews whether the original writers acknowledge it or not.

But whatever, it’s not my cup of tea, you guys can still like it.

[bittysvalentines]

Switcheroo

From: @justlookfrightened

To: @happyzimm

I tried to give you some mild angst, through the eyes of both Jack and Bitty, with a happy ending.

No real content warnings, although sexual activity is discussed.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Happyzimm! I had a lot of fun looking through your blog before I wrote it. I hope you like it!

JLF

Switcheroo

Jack woke up and stretched. He felt … lighter than usual. Not as sore, anyway. Well, last night had been good. Really good.

He reached over to run a hand down Bitty’s side, to see if he would be amenable to waking early. Maybe reprise last night.

But when he reached over to where Bitty should be, his hand bumped the back of a shoulder rather than dropping onto Bitty’s arm. It was like Bitty had grown several inches broader across the shoulders overnight.

Jack opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of bed. Whoever that was, it wasn’t Bitty. The man was turned away so Jack couldn’t see his face, but he was big and had messy dark hair.

Then Jack saw his own hand. Or the hand attached to his arm, which was definitely not his. It was small, with slim, tapering fingers. The hair on the back of it was barely visible in the clear morning light. Blond. It was blond.

Instead of caressing his boyfriend, Jack used his small hand to prod the man’s shoulder.

“Wake up,” he whispered.

The man grumbled – a deep voice, not Bitty’s tenor – and turned over, opening ice-blue eyes.

Then he scrambled to a sitting position, arms and legs flailing.

Whoever it was was in Jack’s body, complete with pale skin, the bruise over his ribs from the Bruins game, and stretch marks that were visible as the man pulled his thighs to his chest, eyes raking over Jack.

“Jack?” the man asked in Jack’s own voice. “You look like me.”

“Bitty?” Jack said, relief flooding him at the sound of Bitty’s drawl, even if the pitch and timbre of the voice was all wrong.

“What happened?” Bitty asked, looking down at himself. “You’re … me? And I’m you?”

“I still feel like me,” Jack said. “But, yeah, it looks you have my body, and I have yours.”

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

Jack had to move the seat in his truck up almost as far as it would go to drive Bitty to Samwell. Actually, to drive himself to Samwell. Where he would go to Bitty’s class on the creation of consumer society and take Bitty’s French quiz.

“I can’t go,” Bitty said. “Madame Battier knows me. Or what I look like. And you can’t go to practice looking like that.”

“I don’t know, bud,” Jack said. “I think I look pretty good.”

Jack had spent extra time in the shower, getting familiar with Bitty’s body. So many things were different: The angle of the shower head was all wrong, and the front of his hair drooped into his eyes when it got wet. His toothbrush felt too big for his mouth, and when he went to shave, he realized it really wasn’t necessary.

He wore a pair of Bitty’s skinny jeans, which were more comfortable than he expected, with a black T-shirt and a flannel shirt that didn’t fit him (Jack) any more. Bitty had to help him get his hair right.

Bitty found a pair of blue sneakers in the back of Jack’s closet, refusing to wear Jack’s favorite yellow shoes. He’d pulled on a pair of Jack’s tailored jeans and a sweater, with Jack’s usual athletic gear in a gym bag in the back of the truck.

Bitty had accompanied Jack to morning skate often enough to know the Falconers’ routines. He was a good skater, a good hockey player, and he knew Jack’s style of play better than anyone.

When Jack pulled up in front of the Haus, he pulled Bitty’s messenger bag from the back seat, then tried to kiss Bitty goodbye. Except he forgot he had to look up.

“Up here,” Bitty said. “Ugh. I still sound like me, don’t I? It’s your voice and my accent. I’ll just try not to talk much to the Falcs. They’ll believe I’m you if I just grunt at them, won’t they?”

“Haha,” Jack said. “I’m planning to stay out of the Haus as much as I can. You have practice tonight, right? Maybe we can meet up and try to switch back before then.”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

“You know how last night was so good?” Jack said. “I thought maybe that’s what did it. I mean, I felt like we really connected. Maybe if we do it again, we’ll switch back.”

“You think we should …”

“Well, yeah,” Jack said.

“And not just because you want to try that in opposite bodies?”

“Not just because of that,” Jack said, then watched ablush rise in his own face, and saw himself giggle before Bitty leaned down to kiss him and climbed in the truck and drove away.

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

Of course Tater was the first person Bitty saw when he arrived for morning skate. Of course he wolf-whistled at what was really a very unexceptional outfit. The only reason it looked good was the body inside it, and Bitty couldn’t take any credit for that.

But Tater didn’t know that.

“Looking good, Zimmboni,” he said. “B picked out your clothes today?”

Bitty snickered – drawing a strange look from Tater – and said, “Something like that.”

“Is B coming to the game tonight?” Tater asked. “He’ll bring pie? Or jam? Or cookies?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Bitty said. “I think he has practice.”

“He was here, I think,” Tater said. “You sound like him, a little bit.”

Dang. Bitty shrugged. “He went back to Samwell this morning.”

Then he ducked into the locker room to change.

Warm-ups in the gym weren’t bad – between watching the other guys and knowing Jack’s routines, Bitty did alright at imitating Jack. Until he tried to lean over to stretch and couldn’t reach his ankles. How did Jack even move around like that?

Skating like Jack was more difficult. Jack was a good skater, clean and efficient in his use of edges, but he was all power. Any grace was a side effect of his commitment to getting from Point A to Point B in the straightest line possible.

Which was not at all how Bitty skated. He was powerful too, but he put his momentum to use, swinging around defenders, going right when they thought he’d go left, spinning away from defensemen instead of skating through them.

He thanked whatever deity was looking down on him that he was mostly over his checking problem, and soon realized that both giving and taking hits felt far different in Jack’s bigger body.

He thought he was succeeding at skating like Jack until he was faced with Guy looming in front of him. He deked around him, spun off of Thirdy and carried the puck in on Snowy, leaving much of the team slack-jawed in his wake.

“It’s just practice,” Thirdy said. “No need to show everyone else up, right?”

Bitty looked back, suddenly uncertain, and Thirdy grinned to show there were no hard feelings, but it looked a little shaky. Because, yeah, morning skate before a game was not the time to make the Falconers’ defensemen question their skills. And it wasn’t Thirdy’s fault; he had been expecting Jack to skate like Jack.

“What’d you have for breakfast?” Marty said. “You’re spinning around like your boyfriend.”

“B was here,” Tater chimed in.

“Then maybe don’t tell me what you ate,” Marty said. “But keep it up, kiddo.”

He kept to himself and thanked his lucky stars that Jack wasn’t the motivational speech kind of captain while he stripped out of his gear and headed for the shower. Then he dressed for the fourth time that day. No wonder Jack favored athletic clothes with as few fasteners as possible.

Bitty joined the lunch line, loading his plate with chicken (bland), sweet potatoes (baked) and steamed asparagus and broccoli. He was starving like he used to be when he was thirteen and had just started working with Katya five days a week. Jack must feel like this every day.

He took his lunch to the end of one of the tables, hoping the team would get the message and leave him alone.

“You okay?” Marty asked, speaking softly as he approached. “If I was over the line before, implying – well, if I went too far, I’m sorry.

“I’m fine,” Bitty said.

“Are you sure? Because you’re usually in a better mood when Bitty’s been in town,” Marty said. “You don’t really seem like yourself.”

You don’t know the half of it, Bitty thought.

“Yeah, I don’t feel quite right,” was all he said.

“Do you think you can play tonight?” Marty asked.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “I’ll go home and nap and – and I’ll be fine by the game. Y’all don’t have to worry.”

Bitty re-ran the sentence in his head when he saw Marty’s delighted look. Dang.

“Y’all?” Marty said. “That kid really is rubbing off on you.”

“Haha,” Bitty deadpanned.

There was a brief film session after lunch, which Bitty tried to pay attention to, even though he was sure Jack had watched these clips last night. Then, mercifully, he could head for Samwell.

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

Pick me up at Annie’s? Jack texted.

He’d tried to avoid Bitty’s team, but it seemed like wherever he went on campus, he was accosted by someone Bitty knew. Nursey waved from across the quad, and Dex walked the last stretch to the history building with him, complaining about his own history class all the way. At least Dex didn’t seem offended that Bitty wasn’t talking much.

Then a woman – Jack thought it was Shruti, the women’s rugby captain – caught up to him near the D-hall, followed him to a table, and started talking about a joint fundraiser for a local charity.

Jack knew the event was happening – Bitty had been talking about for the past month – but it hadn’t seemed like something Jack needed to retain details about, especially since the details Bitty went on about were mostly what he could make for a bake sale.

After ten minutes, Shruti seemed less than impressed with his (Bitty’s) commitment to the project. That really wasn’t fair, because Bitty had probably done everything he promised. Probably at the expense of his schoolwork, even.

“Look,” Jack broke in. “I have to go study for my French quiz, but would it help if I got Jack to come and sign autographs and take selfies and such?”

Shruti pulled up short.

“That’d be great,” she finally said. “But you said at the beginning of the year that one thing you would not do was bring your boyfriend into things like this. ‘He deserves to live a normal life,’ I believe you said.”

Jack shrugged.

“The cause means a lot to him,” he ventured.

“Providing feminine hygiene supplies to a domestic violence shelter means a lot to him?”

Her disbelief was plain.

“Well, yeah,” Jack said. “Did you ever meet Shitty Knight? He played with Jack all four years.”

“Shitty who now?”

Anyway, Jack didn’t trust himself to go to the Haus.

He was standing outside Annie’s with his herbal tea, looking for his truck, when Chowder ran up to him, calling and waving.

“Bitty! Bitty, did you get the message?” he was saying.

“Uh, no?” Jack said.

“No practice. There’s a problem with the boards at Faber,” Chowder said. “You know – new Zamboni driver and all.”

“Okay,” Jack said.

“So I was wondering if maybe you’d make –”

Jack didn’t let Chowder finish.

“I think I’ll take the free night to see Jack’s game,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” Chowder said, still cheerful. “Oh, is that why you have the tea? Did you already know? Tell Jack good luck!”

“I will,” Jack promised as his truck appeared. Crap. He should have gotten a latte for Bitty.

“See you tomorrow!” Chowder said as Jack climbed in the passenger seat.

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

The attempt to switch back didn’t work.

With practice being canceled, It seemed like the universe was paving the way for them.

But when they got back to Jack’s condo, and tried to find the connection they’d felt in bed the night before, it just wasn’t there.

First, they had to decide just how to do things. Did it matter who had done what, or just what body had done what? When it came to some things, they just decided to play it safe and try it both ways. They couldn’t do everything like that, both because there was such a thing as a refractory period and because Jack had a game in a few hours.

Maybe they still could have found the connection, if they tried hard enough, but Jack found it distracting to feel things the way Bitty did, to find spots on Bitty’s body that he hadn’t yet discovered were extra sensitive. Bitty seemed thrown by having a bigger body than he was used to.

“Oh, my gosh, look at us,” Bitty said. He had Jack’s body curled around Bitty’s body, and Jack found the sense of being surrounded oddly comfortable. “I can cup your rear end in my hands.”

“It’s your rear end,” Jack protested. “And we knew it fit in my hands. I do that all the time.”

“I know, and now I can see why,” Bitty said. “It’s kind of fun.”

“It’s a nice feeling from here, too,” Jack said. “But I guess I never asked – is it okay that l like to do that? Do you like it?”

“Sweetpea, of course I do,” Bitty said. “You know how nice it feels now, and if I didn’t like it, I would have said. Don’t worry yourself. You’ve got a game tonight.”

“Looks like you might have a game, bud,” Jack said. “If we don’t switch back. What do you say we both get some sleep?”

“That’s probably smart,” Bitty said. “After all, we were asleep when it happened.”

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

Bitty knew he was still in Jack’s body when he woke up. His own body never ached so much. He slipped out of bed to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, using the whole-grain bread he baked especially for Jack, the organic peanut butter and Aunt Judy’s strawberry jam.

He was staring at the sandwich when Jack stumbled out of the bedroom.

“You’d better get ready to go, bud,” he said. “You need to wear a suit.”

“I can’t do this, Jack,” Bitty said. “Going to morning skate and team lunch is one thing. This is a game. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Jack said. “You belong out there more than I do right now. I don’t know exactly what happened, but Marty texted to see if I was feeling better, and he said, ‘As long as you skate like this morning, you’ll be fine.’”

“But I don’t play like you.”

“Just try,” Jack said. “Play like me as much as you can, but if you can do a spinorama and make a shot, feel free. You’re a good player, Bits. I’ll be there watching; I texted George to get a ticket for you.”

An hour later, Eric walked into the arena, dressed in Jack’s charcoal gray suit with his favorite blue tie. He changed again – for the the sixth time? – and took the ice for warm-ups. He didn’t look for Jack in the crowd. He just skated his circles and took his shots, and made sure to make encouraging noises at the rookies.

Then the game was starting and Bitty skated into position across from Foligno for the faceoff.

He lost it and had to chase the puck. The Jackets passed it around until Poots managed a steal and Bitty chipped it down ice and came off.

He won his first faceoff on his third shift, mostly by not thinking about it and letting Jack’s hands do what Jack’s hands did.

By the middle of the second period, the game was tied 1-1. Bitty didn’t feel like he (Jack) was having his best game, but he was holding his own. Then Thirdy leaned over and said, “Skate like this morning, man. You gotta get around them.”

So Bitty did. He won a faceoff from Foligno, passed to Poots at the blue line and headed into the zone past Savard. Then he took the pass back, spun away from Johnson, and buried the puck over Bobrovsky’s right shoulder.

His hands were still in the air when he realized he wasn’t on the ice. He was on his feet, in the stands, wearing his own jeans and Jack’s jersey over a T-shirt, cheering for himself. His eyes were on Jack, now on the ice, looking right where Bitty was sitting.

He pointed at Bitty, skated past the bench for fist-bumps, and lined up for the faceoff.

Bitty pointed back and sat down to enjoy the rest of the game.

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

Jack pointed at Bitty in the stands, embraced Poots, and headed for the faceoff dot.

He didn’t know how he got here from the stands, but he wasn’t about to question it.

Later, driving back to the condo, Jack said, “Congratulations on your first NHL goal.”

“Not really,” Bitty said.

“Yes, really,” Jack said. “You might have been in my body, but it was all you. Maybe that was the point of the switch – for you to know you could do that.”

“Maybe,” Bitty said. “But the NHL was never my dream. Maybe the point was for you to know I could do it.”

“I always knew that, bud,” Jack said.

“Do the words ‘checking practice’ and ‘lucky shot’ ring any bells?”

“Okay, not always, but for a long time,” Jack said.

“Maybe it’s just – the ice is how we met, and how we got to know each other, and how we came out,” Bitty said. “Maybe it’s just a little ice magic for us, because on the ice is when we’re most ourselves.”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “I’m glad we’re back to normal, though. I’ve missed looking at you.”

[everlarkficexchange]

Prompt 33.

Written by: @wendywobbles

Prompt 33: “Where’s my engagement ring?” [submitted by @sunflowerslyf​]

“Where’s my engagement ring?” Katniss looked from her bare hand at her friend Johanna. Jo had popped into Katniss office with a coffee and they were chatting when suddenly Katniss realised her ring wasn’t on her finger. She spun on her chair and frantically started lifting things up from her desk.

“Relax” said Jo “I’m sure it’s here.” She started looking too, scouring the floor around the desk.  

It wasn’t in any of the usual spots.  Katniss Everdeen had a habit of taking off her ring when she was working, it annoyed her when she was typing and despite her colleagues warning that she was going to misplace it up to today she hadn’t….except that time she left it in the bathroom on the first floor and Leevy returned it two hours later or the time she left it on the kitchen window sill in Prim’s apartment, then that was the time she left it in the Mellark’s after dinner one Sunday. Old Edna, Peeta’s mum, had a field day with that “mark my words if she can leave this trinket behind so easily I dread to think what your marriage will be like” this was one of the nicer things she had said-the old bag-and she’d lot count of the times she left it sitting on the counter top at home

But recently work had been busier than usual, with more events then normal on the calendar and extra work Katniss had been running around, skipping lunch, working longer hours and she had lost some weight and more than once the ring had slipped off, she knew she should have been more careful…..

“Ok…OK.. lemme think. I’m not panicking. I am not panicking” Katniss was clearly panicking.

Jo rolled her eyes she had been through the lost ring drama more than once with Katniss. “Relax Brainless, let’s just retrace your steps and see if we can work it out”

“Ok, so this morning I had a doctor appointment – before you ask no I’m not pregnant- I remember having it then.  Then I went home before I came to work.  Peeta is going away to that Culinary Convention in District 2 so I wanted to see him before he went.  He won’t be back until tomorrow late“

“Bluegh I get it you two lovebirds couldn’t be parted. Continue”

“Whatever Jo. Anyway I helped him pack the last of his stuff and drove him to the airport. The car! I’ll check  the car. Where are you going?” Jo had thrown her coffee cup in the bin and was following Katniss.

“Eh it’s Friday, I’m bored. We’re going  on a pearl hunt” Jo laughed at her joke, Katniss just looked blankly at her “The kids book by Michael Rosen? “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt” Never mind” Jo shoved Katniss out the door muttering something about needing to read more.

They marched down to Katniss car and pulled it apart, by the time they were finished that had found a pair of shoes, an odd sock, a bracelet, Peeta’s old sunglasses and about $15 in loose change but no ring.

“Ok” said Jo pocketing the change “where to next?”

“Back to work, it’s only gone 3 and we’re here until 4 at least. Come on let’s go.  It’s probably be at home”

“Fine.  I’ll ring Gale and tell him I’ll be late this evening and I’ll help you look at home.  We’ll find it” for all her sharp edges and rough ways Johanna Mason would move heaven and earth to help her loved ones “Plus it’ll give me break for the hellcats for a bit longer ” she cackled as she walked away.

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on work but she couldn’t. She rang the doctors to see if maybe it was there but they had nothing. She needed to find her ring.  She thought back to the day Peeta had proposed and then the saga that was finding her the perfect ring……

18 months ago

“So is that a yes?” Peeta Mellark was standing  in the middle of his and Katniss kitchen in their newly purchased house-he would have been kneeling but the prosthetic he wore made it difficult.

They had just bought their first home together and were unpacking.   Katniss found the toaster and has thrown some bread in to make toast. This moving lark was hard work and she was starving a couple of slices of toast, with real butter and marmalade was just what she needed.  She turned to ask Peeta what he wanted when she saw him standing there with a half afraid look on his face, a big question on his lips and a small box in his hands.

The first thing Katniss did was drop the bread she was holding, the second thing  she screamed  yes and the third thing….well I leave that to your imagination.

Afterwards as they lay on the sofa, relaxed and blissfully happy Peeta suddenly remembered he had forgotten to give her the ring.  He hopped up and walked naked through to the kitchen following the trail of their discarded clothes and grabbed the ring box . 

“Not a great start to my new role of fiancé I forgot to give you this. Now it just a plain silver band until we can find “the one” He sat back down beside her “I looked and I couldn’t find anything that really fit for you.  You don’t wear jewellery so I want to make sure that your engagement isn’t too big, top showy. I looked at diamonds, I looked at emeralds and then there were the different metals and settings it was far more difficult than I thought.  I hope you don’t mind?”

“No Peeta how could I mind! I’m happy with this” she looked at the silver band now sitting proudly on the third finger of her left hand.  Now let’s go order some Chinese food and crack open the champagne Prim gave us for moving in here and celebrate our engagement.”

And so Katniss and Peeta announced their engagement.  Friends and family were delighted.  Mrs Mellark couldn’t understand why Katniss didn’t have a diamond.  She actually asked Peeta could he afford a ring. Katniss wanted to smack the old hag but she resisted the urge.  Peeta simply smiled and told his mother that yes he could afford a ring but he and Katniss were going to choose the perfect ring together.  She still didn’t understand and was heard muttering that she would never understand these hippie kids and what was wrong with tradition.

So they started looking for a ring.  Peeta was right finding the perfect Katniss ring was not easy.  Pushy sales assistants didn’t help matters insisting all the girls LOVED a diamond,  and  while Katniss did think they were pretty they weren’t her.   After two months Katniss was fed up and so when it came time to visit Katniss mom in District 4 she was glad to take a break.

They flew to District 4 where Mrs Everdeen lived and worked. She moved there some time ago to take up a position in the local maternity hospital.  Since she couldn’t travel to 12 when Katniss and Peeta gotten engaged she invited them out and paid their airfare as an engagement gift.  They jumped at the chance, between buying the house and the usual stress and strains of life it was a while since they had been away.  They had a lovely few days and on Saturday morning Katniss was sitting with her mother having breakfast Peeta was having a rare lie in.  They were talking about this and that, Katniss was regaling her mother with some of the ring shopping stories.

“Before you say anything mother, it’ not because I’m fussy. I just have specific requirements….ok I’m a bit fussy “ she grinned as she said this

“Morning Everdeens” Peeta was up, he leaned in to give Katniss a kiss on the cheek “I keep telling you Katniss you are allowed to be cautious and you want to be sure of your choice,  this will be on your finger for life unless you trade me in for a newer model someday” he said this with a smile.

“Never!” responded Katniss

Mrs Everdeen smiled at the two of them “How about when you guys are ready we head down to the market and have a look around, there are a few jewellers and goldsmiths down by the Marina. We can grab lunch as well, what do you think?”

“Sounds great Mrs E”

It was a lovely day, they were in no hurry so they took in the sights, walked along the beach. Peeta bought some seaweed salt convinced he could make use of it in the bakery back home.

They found Cresta and Odair Goldsmiths and Fine Jewellery and decided to have a look.  The pieces on display were all inspired by nature and had simplicity to them that Katniss was quite taken with.  Annie Cresta and her husband Finnick ODair were in the shop Annie was dealing with customer while Finnick was working on something.  Katniss looked at several of the designs and when Annie finished with the other customer so came over and introduced herself and  they got chatting Peeta and Katniss explaining they were looking for an engagement ring, and the difficulty they were having finding one that really spoke to them.   Annie showed them a further  selection of rings and there was no denying they were beautiful but not quite right.  At this point Finnick had come out and was chatting to them when Katniss caught sight of a bracelet he had on “Excuse me? What’s that symbol?” Katniss asked as she pointed at his arm

“This is a Claddagh it’s a traditional Irish symbol it represents love, loyalty and friendship.  The heart is the love, the hands friendship and the crown represents loyalty.  Do you like it? It is more traditionally seen in a ring here I’ll show you?” Annie passed Finnick a design book with pictures of rings designed and crafted by Finnick.

Peeta and Katniss looked through and Katniss knew this could be the one for her “Yes but I would like it more contemporary, flatter… am I making sense?”

“Of course! And if you’re not it’s our job to bring your dream to reality. If we go with a wishbone style, which is easy enough to fashion from the shape we can make a wedding band to sit perfectly with the engagement ring Let’s get to work” said Finnick

And they did. Finnick helped to bring Katniss vision to reality. Peeta had noticed that some of the pieces in the shop had Mother of Pearl inlaid so he asked Finnick if it would possible to use that in the ring as  the heart.  Finnick said that shouldn’t be a problem.  Peeta liked the idea of part of 4 being in the ring.

So when Katniss and Peeta left District 4, the making of the ring was underway and they would have it in a few months.

And now she had lost it.  This was awful.  She wondered how Peeta would react when she told him.  This was Peeta she knew he would be ok and I mean they had insurance.  It wouldn’t be the same but that was ok except  it wasn’t she had to find that ring.

She picked up her phone and called Jo “Jo meet me at the car in 10 minutes.  We have a ring to find”

As Katniss left her office and headed to the reception to wait for Jo. 

“Hey Katniss, heading out early?” asked Keith one of security guards at her office.

“Yeah. Keith I don’t suppose anyone handed in a ring today? I’ve lost mine” she described it but Keith said there was nothing left with him. He said he would send an email round to all the building and he would let the cleaning crew know to be on the lookout.

“Thanks I’d appreciate that. I’ll leave my mobile number you can call me if anything turns up”

“Right! Let’s get going” shouted Jo “I’ll follow you in my car. Oooo I’m starving can we order food when we get to yours? Bye Keith, see you Monday”

Once they got to the house Jo got Katniss to retrace her steps and they walked through the house but turned up nothing.

“Wait! Peeta would have emptied the bins before leaving….oh god I’m going to have to go through the rubbish” Katniss wailed

“Well we won’t  be doing that tonight.  Let’s get the gang together and pull this place apart tomorrow we’ll find it before Peeta gets back. Now I’m heading home I’ll be here with Gale and the kids tomorrow about 10? Oscar and Emily will  be delighted to help in the search plus their tiny child hands can get into places we can’t.  We’ll get Madge, Delly and Darius round too”

After Jo left Peeta called Katniss.  Peeta was in his element at the conference talking a mile a minute about meeting news suppliers, learning new techniques and making new contacts.  He was going to meet his brother who lived in District 2 for dinner this evening then tomorrow there were a number of workshops he was attending.  Katniss smiled as Peeta prattled on about this and that.

“Enough about me, how was your day?”

“Good, nothing unusual.  I finalised at the details for the training event next month so the pressure is off for a few days at least.  What time are you back tomorrow?”

“My flight is back in  lands at 7 I thought we could go to Sae’s and grab dinner when I get in?”

“We could or we could just stay in……..I mean you’ve have been away  and well Peeta a woman has needs……” she whispered seductively

“Check the freezer” laughed Peeta “you didn’t think I’d leave you without a supply of cheese buns did you”

“And that is why you are the perfect man for me Peeta Mellark, but I still think we should stay in”

“Ok well love you. I got to go meet Lincoln. I talk you tomorrow”

“Bye Peeta, love you”. 

True to her word Jo arrived with the troops the next morning.  Katniss has coffee and pancakes ready.  Jo being Jo called everyone to order “Listen up people! We have a situation on our hands.  We are here to help Katniss find her engagement ring which she has lost. Again.  Now we are going to pull this house apart.  Every piece of furniture, every drain, every bin –no stone left unturned.  Right Kantiss and I will take the upstairs, kids you come with us.  Gale and Darius you are an on rubbish sorting, garden and car.  We looked at the car already but going over it again is probably a good idea. Madge and Delly hit up the kitchen, living room, dining room.  We’ll find this bad boy!”

Gale laughed at his wife “Honey we really need to get you a hobby, but for now Darius let’s get ready to play in the bins”

Delly asked Katniss if she had sat on any particular sofa or chair yesterday “No I don’t think so why?”

“Well I started an upholstery class last month and I could easily remove and replace the base of the sofa if you needed to look in there.”

Katniss was slightly horrified but desperate “Do whatever you’ve got to do Delly”

She ran upstairs to where Johanna was she had all the shoes and handbags Katniss owned out on the floor and Oscar and Emily where shaking t hem then flinging them over their shoulders when nothing fell out. Jo meanwhile was stripping the bed and shaking pillows.  She pointed and Katniss “You can check your beside tables….you don’t want me finding out what’s in your goodie drawer”

Oscar was instantly alert to the words “Goodie drawer” “Aunty Katniss do you keep a drawer of sweets and chocolate in your bedroom…..that is so cool. Can I have something?”

“No Oscar don’t mind your mom she said…erm hoodie drawer….it’s where Uncle Peeta keeps his hoodies. Oooo look what’s that?” Once Oscar was distracted Katniss threw a sock at Johanna.

The search of the house turned up no ring. 

The search of the bins turned up no ring.

The drains held nothing except hair….causing Gale to comment that Katniss shed more hair then his dog.

The garden had nothing either.  Darius suggested he get his metal detector but as she hadn’t actually spent any time in the garden it wasn’t necessary.

And Delly wasn’t very good an upholstery, Katniss was glad no one could see the bottom of her sofa.

“It’s actually gone” Katniss slumped onto the nearest chair and a lone tear fell from her eye, before she knew it she had started to cry.  Oscar and Emily were watching TV and Katniss was grateful, she didn’t want to scare the kids with her crying.  Her friends all rushed to her and hugged her until she finally stopped.

When she had calmed herself a bit she accepted the cup of tea Madge had made for her and  everyone sat around the table. 

“Have we missed anywhere Kat?” asked Darius “Let’s go back over your movements yesterday again.  From the time you got up until the time you noticed the ring was gone”

“What’s the point?” sighed Katniss

“Look” said Madge “I know we’ve already been through it but let’s start from the top and work our way through your day.  We might have missed something.  We have time and we are not quitters!”  Nods from around the table made Katniss smile and she knew they were right.

“Ok let’s get lunch and then “Operation we’re going on a pearl hunt” can officially begin” said Jo, Gale laughed and from the living room Oscar and Emily started singing and song about a bear, Delly, Madge, Gale and Darius joined the kids singing….Katniss was just lost.

“C’mon” laughed Delly “I’ll help you make lunch”

An hour later and everyone was fed and ready to go.  They did one final sweep of the house Katniss led them through the house stopping everywhere she had been and then back down to the front door.

“Ok. So next thing I did was get in the car and drive to town.  We’ve pulled the car apart twice so I’m satisfied it’s not there.  I went to the doctor’s office,  popped into Mellark’s for a coffee and from there I headed to the chemist and picked up some stuff and finally headed to work.  Don’t look at me like that Joanne….ok I skived a bit but I think I’ve earned it.  I’ve been working my ass off and my fingers to the bone hence the reason I lost my ring” Katniss joked.

“Right so do you wanna drive into town?” asked Gale

The day itself was dry and not too warm, walking to town didn’t take too long but with the two kiddos it might take a bit longer but it was nice spending time with her friends, even if they were spending it looking for her engagement ring “If everyone is up for it, how about we walk? Jo will the kids be okay with that?”

“Sure and we have enough adults here that can carry them if their little legs get tired….and Gale brought the buggy.  We have wheels and we are ready  to roll.  So let’s go.  Everyone ready? Oscar and Emily are you ready to lead us?”

“Yyyyeeeeess” came the excited shouts

“Ok guys  why don��t you start singing our song?” grinned Gale

And they set off to the kids screeching “We’re going on a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one” and the adults laughing and  Katniss joining in singing the song.

 Thirty minutes later the troop arrived at the doctor’s office and entered in a line with Oscar and Emily leading the way followed by Katniss, Jo, Delly, Madge, Darius and then Gale.

“Oh my!” said the receptionist Effie Trinket “what have we here?”

“Hey Effie, I know I rang last night and there was no sign of my ring but I was kinda hoping that it may have turned up? Maybe one of your cleaning crew found it?” asked Katniss

“Oh dear Katniss I’m afraid not. Are you all looking for the ring? “she asked as she surveyed the group in front of her.

“We sure are” replied Darius “we’re like a modern day Fellowship of the Ring….or something”

“Well in that case good luck in your quest brave sirs and madams” Effie smiled and then indicated to the bucket of stickers and lollypops she kept at her desk  Jo nodded and Effie handed Oscar and Emily one of each.  The kids were delighted and popped their treasures into their backpacks.

“Effie, do you think maybe us adults could get a lollypop too?” asked Madge

Effie laughed and handed them each a lollypop.

“Right! Kiddos are you ready.  Time to get singing again” The gang left a confused looking Effie and marched onto Birdsong Street and headed towards Mellark’s with everyone of then singing loudly “We’re going in a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one”

Mr Mellark stood at the counter and could hear the singing long before the Katniss and her gang of singers came into sight.  He laughed as they entered, Emily and Oscar headed straight to the display case that held the cupcakes and cookies.

“Hey Mr M” Katniss smiled “I don’t suppose……the thing is….whew this is hard”

“Katniss? You’re beginning to worry me, what is it dear?”

“I lost my engagement ring, I was hoping I had dropped it here” she whispered to him

“Oh my dear, no nothing and I cleaned the shop myself and no one handed it in.  Is this a ring search party” he nodded to the assembled group around the shop.

“Yep” and she relayed the story of the last 24 hours to him.

“It will turn up I’m sure of it” he patted her hand before turning his attention to the adults and children in the shop and spoke to them “Well I think that when a person undertakes a task such of this they require sustenance and who better than a baker to provide this! I have some cheese buns and quiche that I can box up and I think perhaps your little helpers might be allowed a cookie…” this time Gale nodded a yes and smiled.  Mr Mellark packaged everything up and once more the headed out with the kids leading the way and singing loudly.

Katniss stopped outside the chemist. This was her last chance,  Jo stopped beside her and gave her hand a squeeze “C’mon I have a good feeling about this.  Ok kids one last time we’re going on a pearl hunt…”

Katniss headed straight up to the counter and when she spoke to the assistant she had all but given up hope that she would find her ring when she heard the manager Sae call to her “Katniss! We found a ring…well Rue found it. Rue works here part time and she was stocking some shelves and she found a ring, very unusual design it was too. Wait just a second while I grab the lost and found box”

From behind her Katniss heard Delly squeal, the kids asking Gale what lost and found was and were they getting something since everyone else had given them a treat.  Gale hushed them but Katniss smiled. 

“Here we go” she put a box on the counter and everyone peered into it, Gale and Darius had picked Oscar and Emily up so they didn’t miss a thing.

Katniss’ heart sank they was a ring but it was a silver with what looked like and emerald, beautiful but not hers “No Sae, that’s not mine” Sae glanced into the box  “Oh no wait, wait , wait that’s not the ring I meant” She flew off back to the office and returned with and envelope “Here” she  said and Jo reached out and  took it and passed it to Katniss……

“OH MY GOD!” she shrieked “it’s my ring! It’s my ring”  Everyone cheered, then laughed and cheered some more and just at that moment Katniss mobile phone rang.  It was Peeta.

“Shhhhh its Peeta ”she hissed at everyone  “Hey honey, everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah just have a few minutes before my next demo so I thought I’d ring and say hello.  Up to anything interesting?”

“Me? No, no not doing anything exciting” as she said that Emily piped up “But Auntie Katniss tell Peeta we’re going on a pearl hunt”

“Hey Katniss is that Emily? Are you hanging with Jo and the kids,and you’re on a bear hunt? I love that story”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know that story?” she asked Peeta

“Ah ask the kids for if you can have  lend of their book, you’ll soon get up to speed. Look  I’ve got to go sweetheart I’ll see you later”

Katniss slipped the ring back on her finger where is belonged.  It was a bit loose but before she could say anything Sae handed her a packet of plastic tubes(at least that’s what it looked like)“Until you get that beautiful ring resized use these “Ring Snugs” it will help keep your ring on”

Katniss pulled out her phone and text Mr Mellark to let him know they had found the ring.

Everyone headed back onto the street.  Katniss felt herself welling up again as she looked  around at her friends “Thank you all,  I really thought I’d lost it.  You gave up your Saturday to wade through garbage, pulled sofas apart, and pulled my house apart and you Jo you especially kept me going.  I can never thank  you guys enough.  But to start with how about we all head back to mine,  I’ll order dinner  and we can relax.  Emily and Oscar would you like to pick a movie to watch?”

A chorus of yes please filled the air and they set off back towards Katniss and Peeta’s house all singing  “We’re going on pearl hunt”

After everyone had headed home that evening Katniss waited for Peeta.  She had debated whether or not to tell Peeta what had happened but as Jo pointed out they had been seen by half the town singing and word would spread.

When Peeta finally arrived home Katniss was waiting with a cold beer and a tall tale for him…. and Peeta had bought her a copy of “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt”

So I hope I did this some justice for you @sunflowerslyf.  This is partly based on something that happened to me only I lost my wedding ring and never found it…..and trying to find a replacement has been way harder then you would think: )

A quick google will throw up the details of the book and song “We’re going on a Bear Hunt” but be warned you may end up with it stuck in your head if you don’t already know it :)

[nelvana]

In which a birthday is celebrated

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which an agreement is reached Previous: In which a present is prepared

    Impatience rarely brought a good night’s sleep. Keahi knew this well, and found herself experiencing this problem on the night before her birthday. It had been such a long time since she went and celebrated a birthday just with friends, and she found herself more excited than she could remember being in a long time.

    Because of this, she now found herself laying awake in her nest, trying to catch just that last hour of rest before dawn. She would chat with Tsuki and Edgar, but Tsuki had insisted that Keahi needed to go back to sleep, so now that pair had gone downstairs as to not become distractions to Keahi trying to go back to bed.

    Unfortunately, this wasn’t working out as planned, since the torchic still found herself wide awake with anticipation. Even now as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found herself staring around at the few decorations that they had set up upstairs for the celebration, or peering out the nearby window to glimpse the stars still lighting up the night sky. She could hear the faint whistle of wind outside, streaming by their window that was barely open a crack for some fresh air; a request from Alex and Tsuki that had been quickly agreed upon by everyone else, at least for as long as the nights stayed warm enough for it.

    Turning over in her nest onto her belly and laying her chin on the edge of the small bed, Keahi looked over at the rest of her teammates instead. The hammock at the back of the room sagged under the combined weight of the grovyle and shiny celebi, the latter of which laid peacefully on top of the former. Alex was resting on his back, as it seemed that he always did for whatever reason, though his breathing sounded less relaxed than usual. Either a nightmare or he wasn’t actually asleep, and Keahi couldn’t decide which would be preferable at this point; Alex needed some more sleep either way.

    Closer to her was the other nest where Nelvana was sleeping. Or at least Keahi hoped. The cubone was better at hiding whether she was sleeping or not than anyone else the torchic had met. Regardless, Nelvana also lay on her back, but she was a much more restless sleeper than the rest of the team, something that Keahi could see even now with the blanket that was wrapped around the cubone from rolling around throughout the night. Now that she looked closely, she also noted that Nelvana’s headgear had been tilted in her sleep, now laying slightly askew on her head, showing another thin scar on her right cheek that Keahi had only seen a few times prior.

    Temptation pricked at the back of Keahi’s mind to see if she would be able to sleep better if she joined her partner, but she turned down the idea in favor of trying not to disturb anyone more than she may already have.

    “Keahi?”

    So much for that idea.

    “Sorry if I woke you,” Keahi immediately apologized.

    “Nah, it’s fine,” Nelvana murmured, “I’ve been awake for awhile actually.”

    “Another nightmare?”

    “Mhmm…”

    Now that she had given away that she was actually awake, Nelvana lifted a hand to scratch the fur on her chest before stretching and trying to readjust the tangled blanket on it. Keahi sat up, shaking out her sleep-ruffled feathers before blinking over at her partner again.

    “So, were we all just awake but trying to pretend not to be as to not wake up anyone else?” Alex’s voice pierced through the moment of silence.

    Keahi couldn’t help but laugh, turning to look across the room like before, “I guess so! Ceebee’s up too?”

    “Yup, I’m here!” Ceebee hummed, lifting her head up to meet Keahi’s gaze through the darkness. “Now that we know this was the case, maybe I should have checked telepathically to see who was awake earlier. Good thing Nel spoke up, huh? We would have been left here in sleepless silence until morning.”

    “Why are you two awake anyway?” Keahi asked.

    “Same as Nel for me,” Alex sighed, absentmindedly rubbing the scar that lay across his muzzle.

    “Nice, we get to be nightmare buds,” Nelvana commented with a hint of playful sarcasm to her tone.

    “Hell yeah,” Alex replied, lifting his hand to fist bump the air for a moment before dropping it to hang limply beside the hammock.

    “Alex woke me up,” Ceebee added, “kinda hard to stay asleep when the person you’re sleeping on starts kicking around.”

    Alex let out a quiet huff before sitting up, something Ceebee barely noticed in time to flutter up in the air before sitting down again to avoid being rolled over. Seeing that everyone else had sat up by now, Nelvana pushed herself up to a seated position as well, fixing her shifted headgear and then shuffling in place to angle herself so that she would be able to comfortably be able to continue the conversation with everyone here.

    “How ‘bout you, Keahi?” Ceebee asked, “what woke you up early?”

    “Impatience,” Keahi sighed, “it’s hard to sleep when you just really want the next day to start.”

    “Well, we’re all awake anyway, why not just start the day early? We could take the time to make a big breakfast at the very least,” Alex suggested, already swinging himself out of the hammock, which swung back up with only the smaller celebi left on it.

    “It is almost dawn anyway, right?” Nelvana added, peering over at the window she was facing, which happened to not be the one she was closest to.

    “Okay! I’m not going to complain about an idea like that!” Keahi chirped, swiftly hopping out of her nest. “Hey Tsuki, Edgar! Turns out that everyone else is awake, so we’re just going to get today started!” she called out down the stairs.

    “I’m hoping that they woke up on their own, and that you didn’t just wake them up to pull this off!” Tsuki’s voice came echoing back from the lower floor of the house.

    “Don’t worry, we did!” Ceebee assured her before flying downstairs to meet up with the other two.

    The remaining three didn’t take long to hurry to join their teammates, and soon they were all preparing their early morning breakfast together. Having all six of them in the kitchen sometimes got crowded, but when two of them could fly around instead of taking up floor space, and making sure that everyone had a proper job and space, the task passed along much easier than it could had they gone about this in a more chaotic way. They had never tried preparing a meal with everyone participating at once before, but everyone unanimously agreed that this was a fun challenge and a good way to start such an early morning. As usual, this large breakfast ended up being pancakes with fruit, since it was not only something that everyone knew the basics of at this point, but could also be made in bulk for the entire team to enjoy a tasty and filling meal. They probably would make it more often if it didn’t require so much time to make.

    Just past dawn was when they had completely finished up with breakfast, now hungry for the next activity of the day. While Keahi had expressed in many events that she wanted to take place during this day, she had not set up a proper schedule. To most of the team’s surprise, Keahi told them that she wanted to do a couple missions still, instead of just having a full day off.

    “I like going through dungeons with you guys and helping others!” Keahi explained, “besides, I wasn’t actually born until the afternoon, so I want to save all the really fun stuff until then!”

    “Well, it’s your day, so it’s your choice!” Nelvana responded.

    “Gosh, when was the last time we left for a mission this early? We’ve gotten up early recently, but we still usually wait to get to work. Probably when we went to fight Zapdos and rescue Shiftry, right?” Keahi commented as they walked outside, keeping her gaze on her partner. “That feels so long ago, but it wasn’t really! It’s just that so much has happened since then!”

    “Long enough ago that it was just the two of us in this house and that fighting a legendary felt like an impossible task,” Nelvana agreed, swinging her club up to rest on her shoulder. “Yeah, a lot has happened…”

    “I think we should get out in the mornings more often,” Alex said, “it’s nice and quiet out here, and you can look around for all the dewdrops.”

    “And for the sunrise,” Nelvana added.

     Alex nodded, “of course.”

    “However, from the perspective of doing our job, there are fewer missions on the board early in the morning,” Tsuki pointed out. “I am certain that in some cases, getting that extra sleep can be more important.”

    “Says the one who never sleeps,” Alex chuckled, patting Tsuki on the head and ruffling her fur.

    “Says the one who thinks we don’t notice that he never sleeps!” Edgar chimed in, “are you sure we don’t talk too loud? You’re rarely actually get any rest, and Nel isn’t far behind with that problem!”

    “Eh, we’re light sleepers, don’t worry about it. We already get a lot more sleep than we used to,” Alex replied, waving away the duskull lazily with a hand.

    “How come? It’s because of where you’re from, right? Always staying alert? Why isn’t Ceebee a light sleeper then?” Edgar continued, circling around the grovyle as he spoke.

    Ceebee giggled at the sudden endless questioning, “yes, it’s because of where we’re from. I… I found better places to sleep though, and most pokemon don’t want to go out and attack a mythical anyway, so I didn’t… have to be as alert,” she answered, her expression falling slightly as she went on.

    “Oh! That makes sense!” Edgar exclaimed, “thanks for answering my questions!”

    “You’re welcome, but you know, you don’t need to thank us each time we answer a question,” Ceebee responded patiently.

    As they all passed through Pokemon Square, they were quietly greeted by the various shop keepers up early to fix up their stands in time for opening them up for sales. Keahi received birthday wishes from each of them, Kangaskhan being the first to mention it and then starting a chain of every citizen in the vicinity adding on now that they were reminded and the timing felt right.

    The mission board outside of the Pelipper Post Office sat nearly bare. Like Tsuki had mentioned, it was hard to find much work in the early mornings. There were still a couple missions left though; an escort and an item delivery. While these were some of the least favored types of missions, it was still work. Plus, it gave promise that things were getting better for everyone. Fewer actual rescue missions just meant that fewer people were in danger.

    Team Galaxy completed the two missions that they had chosen before noon, returning to their base to enjoy the rest of their day together. Keahi mentioned that they had gotten back a bit earlier than she had expected, but that it just meant that perhaps they could get started on the celebration sooner.

    “Well, the cake isn’t completely ready yet, so I think I’ll be using some of that extra time for that,” Ceebee announced, fluttering over into the kitchen. “Tsuki, do you want to help me? I think you put away the icing anyway and I’m not entirely sure where that went.”

    “I want to help!” Edgar chimed in.

    With that, the duskull swiftly floated over to join his friend, and Tsuki calmly padded behind him.

    “What about the rest of us?” Alex questioned, glancing over at the remaining two with him.

    “There are still some balloons we could blow up! Oh! And remember the party hats we found the other day? We could bring those out!” Keahi exclaimed.

    “I left the hats upstairs, I can go get them,” Nelvana responded, taking the initiative and began climbing up the stairs.

    “Okay! Alex and I can get started on the balloons then!” Keahi chirped, directing the mentioned grovyle over to the living room area.

    Keahi tugged a bag full of colored balloons off the shelf, spilling the contents out on the floor. After some struggling with trying to hold one in her wing talons, she managed to bring one over to her beak to use, but then paused and glanced over at Alex.

    “Do you know what we need to do here?” she checked, accidentally fumbling with her balloon and dropping it on the floor again. “Ah, whoops!”

    “We’re just filling them with air, I know. It was mentioned when we first bought them,” Alex replied, “do you need help?” he added with a snicker.

    “I’m fine!” Keahi huffed, “it’s just hard to hold these at first without proper hands. I’ve done this before!”

    “Alright, if you’re sure then,” Alex shrugged, turning away from the torchic in order to hide his smirk, which he also covered up by taking one of the balloons in his mouth and beginning to blow into it.

    The two of them began trying to blow up the balloons, each experiencing some difficulties of their own. However, it wasn’t long before Nelvana returned, wearing a green and yellow spotted party hat, as well as carrying five other hats with her, most of them hanging off her left arm while two of them were held with her right hand. Leaping over the railing of the stairway, she hurried over to the pair, throwing the red and yellow starred hat at Alex, who easily caught it with a free hand, and plopping the green and blue striped one atop Keahi’s head, causing her to spit out her balloon in surprise, sending it spitting through the air as it deflated.

    “Ta-da!” Nelvana giggled, waving her hands in the air before wandering over to the kitchen for a moment to lay down the remaining hats before returning.

    “Nel! You ruined my balloon!” Keahi whined as she adjusted the hat on her head.

    “Yeah, I was waiting to see how she was supposed to tie a knot with that,” Alex added, putting his hat on his head. “Ack, these are not comfortable,” he muttered.

    “Sorry, you can get another balloon though,” Nelvana responded, sitting down with the others. “Aren’t we going to use them all anyway?”

    “Yeah, yeah!” Keahi stuck her tongue out at her partner before crawling over to where her balloon had landed and collected it.

    “Hey, Keahi, your hat looks kinda like another feather,” Alex pointed out, “if your feathers were weirdly colored and patterned, of course.”

    “And cones,” Nelvana added.

    “Of course,” Alex repeated.

    “Would your feathers all fit under that hat?” Nelvana asked, leaning over to poke the torchic’s hat.

    “I mean, they would…” Keahi replied, “wait! I’ve got a better idea! One hat for each of my larger feathers!” she suggested.

    “I’ll donate my hat to that cause,” Nelvana agreed, tugging off her hat and strapping it over one of the feathers, before helping her partner strap on her own hat onto one of the other hats.

    “Here’s your third one,” Alex said, tossing his hat back over to the other two. “It’s uncomfortable anyway.”

    Nelvana caught the tossed hat, quickly strapping it onto Keahi with the other two hats. The strings overlapped and the rims of the hats had to bend each other to all fit, but now the torchic had a party hat over each of her three large, yellow head feathers. There was a pause as Nelvana and Alex looked their work over, before Nelvana couldn’t help but laugh, and soon the rest of this trio joined in.

    “What are you three laughing about? I thought you were blowing up the balloons,” Ceebee, who had just hung her hat loosely from her neck, asked from the kitchen.

    In response, Nelvana swiftly picked up Keahi from under the wings and brought her partner over to the others, showing the torchic off proudly with all three party hats on.

    “It’s the birthday girl!” Nelvana giggled. “Here she is!”

    “Here I am!” Keahi continued, flapping her wings about.

    “Oh, that’s adorable!” Ceebee squealed, “please tell me that you’re going to keep wearing those hats like that for the rest of the day!”

    “I just might! This is kinda fun!” Keahi replied, “since we’re here, how’s the cake going?”

    “It’s going good! It’s really fun to decorate this!” Edgar exclaimed, “but no looking yet! Or else you’ll be spoiled! We want this to be a surprise!”

    “Alright, I’ve got it,” Keahi hummed, “c’mon, Nel, let’s actually get working on those balloons.”

    “Have a good time with that,” Tsuki said after setting down a bottle of frosting that she had been holding in her jaws. “But do try not to let any more of the balloons go, that noise is distracting,” she added, licking her whiskers before glancing away.

    “Oh, sorry about that. We’ll try and keep a better handle on things,” Nelvana responded, turning back with Keahi towards the living room.

    Once they got focused on their tasks, work went faster for everyone, even enough so that the trio that had been decorating the cake were able to joins the others in finishing up with the remaining balloons. And when the balloons were done being blown up and scattered around the house, they managed to find other forgotten decorations to pull out and use. There had already been some streamers and banners taped up the day before, but there was a confetti popper that had been hidden up until now that they used, after making sure everyone was ready for the bang, of course.

    Now with all the preparation was out of the way and the sun had passed its way into the afternoon, the question of lunch arose, and whether they would start actually celebrating Keahi’s birthday now or closer to the evening instead. It didn’t take long for Keahi to answer this quick dilemma, deciding to “get the party started” now rather than later.

    No one argued to this, and thus they began to prepare some food, which had been decided to be pasta and beans. Unlike breakfast, it was agreed that it would be better for just some of the team members to make this meal, those members were quickly being Ceebee and Alex, the former of which instantly volunteered with the opportunity to get to try cooking more, and the latter of which decided to join in “just because”; leaving everyone else to start up the party games, of which were mostly just some short and silly activities that Keahi and Edgar had chosen earlier.

    Cooking, games, eating, talking, games…

    Cake.

    “Where did we put the candles?” Nelvana asked, pawing through the various cupboards.

    “With the other non-food and dishes items,” Ceebee answered, adding a final frosting touch to the cake that she had just realized that she had forgotten.

    “Actually, I relocated them under the sink so that they would be easier to reach,” Tsuki inputted, “I had predicted that I would have to gather them, but I was wrong, sorry.”

    “Don’t worry about it, thanks,” Nelvana replied, crouching down to the cupboard under the sink so that she could finally find the small boxes of matches. “There we go!” she hummed to herself, approaching the cake. “Here you go, you can set them up if you want,” she told Ceebee.

    “Thank you, but you can actually set those up! Just make sure that it isn’t on top of any of the designs we’ve already set up, of course!” Ceebee chirped, fluttering away from the cake and back over to the others.

    Blinking in surprise, Nelvana stepped in front of the cake. She hadn’t actually seen it like this before now, all decorated up only for upcoming consumption. The frosting on top was a light-colored vanilla, and all lined up on the edge was a series truffle frosting. There was writing that had the simple message of “Happy Birthday Keahi!” along with the team’s “logo” messily drawn atop the cake. After taking a moment to look this over, bringing a smile to her face, Nelvana began carefully lining up the candles around the cake as well. She used up most of the candles in the small box, fifteen out of twenty to be exact, and then after looking it over once more, she turned around to face everyone else gathered by the island table.

    “Alright, I’m done… should I bring the cake over then?” Nelvana asked.

    “Yup! Bring it over here, and then you all can sing the birthday song, like I mentioned before!” Keahi chirped, bouncing excitedly on the stool she had seated herself on.

    Carefully, Nelvana grabbed the plate that the cake had been set on and brought it over to the table, setting it in front of her excited partner before sitting down in the stool beside her. None of the others had decided to sit down yet, them all either being tall enough to comfortably stand without missing out on anything, or just being able to float around.

    There was a pause after the cake was set down, and then Ceebee began singing the short song that, as Keahi had mentioned just moments before, had been taught to them a few times in the prior days. The shiny celebi had presumably sensed Keahi’s anticipation and decided to take the initiative, which no one else would complain about. The singing was awkward and quiet, but not off-pitched or janky. Afterwards, Keahi made sure to cheer and flap her wings about, letting the anxious tension that had built off quickly die off.

    “Okay, okay! So, usually we light the candles and then the goal is to blow them all out at once, but as a fire-type…” Keahi hummed, and Nelvana could already feel the fiery heat coming off the torchic. “We go the other way around.”

    With that comment, Keahi let a controlled, thin stream of flames come out of her beak; likely a compressed ember move. Carefully, she tilted her head over the cake, letting the fire follow and lick the tops of the candles. The first sweep lit most, but not all of them. With still some breath left in her, she tilted her head back the other way in an attempt to finish the job before running out of steam. She was granted success… but only for long enough to get her hopes up, where after that, one of the candles whiffed out on their own. Narrowing her eyes and letting out a huff, Keahi lit the final candle on the cake, prompting some cheering from the others.

    “You going to try blowing them all out at once too?” Nelvana asked.

    “Actually, I might. Back at home, usually someone get impatient and either shoves the birthday kid’s face into the cake early or someone ends up accidentally breathing too hard and blowing them all out again,” Keahi laughed.

    “We can provide either of those options, if you’d like,” Alex snickered, lazily propping his head up with a hand, elbow leaning on top of the table.

    “Let me try first!” Keahi snapped back, but only amusement lit up in her eyes.

    Taking in a deep breath, Keahi began blowing cooler air over the candles instead, swiftly snuffing most of them out in one sweep over them. Like when she was lighting them, there are just too many candles to go through after the first sweep, so Keahi tried again, and this time getting the rest of them out; with no fake outs.

    And then Alex shoved her face into the edge of the cake.

    “I believe there was a chant that we were supposed to do before that,” Tsuki pointed out, disguising a chuckle as a cough.

    “Yeah, but that ruins the surprise. I thought surprises were pretty important for this,” Alex shrugged with a sly smirk.

    “You just wanted to shove her face into a cake,” Ceebee responded, but she too held no sternness in her tone, despite the words that came out of her mouth.

    “Someone had to,” Alex replied, “Keahi told us; it’s tradition.”

    “I don’t remember it being tradition,” Nelvana muttered, before looking over at Keahi, who’s face was still in the cake. “Keahi! One bite!”

    “Iff r’ally goof h’ough,” Keahi said, the message muffled from her mouth still being full of the cake.

    Letting out a sigh, Nelvana grabbed onto the middle party hat that Keahi was still wearing, tugging it upwards and pulling the rest of the torchic, smiling beak and fluffy cheeks smeared in frosting, with it.

    “This cake is really good!” Keahi exclaimed, in case the first comment didn’t get through enough.

    “Strawberry cream,” Ceebee hummed, more for everyone but Keahi, seeing at the torchic already knew what it tasted like. “Kangaskhan recommended it to us, and it sounded like something that you would like!”

    “Arceus, Kangaskhan really deserves some sort of thank you gift someday for all of her help,” Keahi giggled, trying to lick the remaining food from her face.

    “She got to adopt Tsuki,” Alex joked, finally taking a seat on one of the stools.

    “Alright, alright, I’m going to cut the cake now,” Ceebee announced, lifting the plate back up easily with telekinesis and bringing it back to the counter.

    It was easy for the cake to be cut up into sixths and then distributed to the entire team, and soon everyone was chowing down on the delicious cake. Edgar was the only one who didn’t finish his slice, and seeing as he had been trying to eat a bit of everything today despite being a ghost-type that doesn’t require eating, it made sense. Though, even if he was full, he was also fully energized and was soon zooming around the base and excitedly chattering about what they would be doing next together.

    Next, as it turned out, ended up being some unexpected visitors knocking at the door.

    “It looks like our B Squadron!” Ceebee chirped, her antennae flicking back and forth with a slight psychic glow to them.

    Opening the door only confirmed this statement, as the rest of Team Galaxy stood at the doorway. Rayden was floating the closest to where the door had been when it was closed, so evidently they were the one who had knocked. Gathered around and behind them was the other four; Pearl and Bobo standing underneath the magnemite, close to the doorway, while Hiram and Baguette waited behind everyone else. Clearly, they were more well-versed in birthday traditions, and sang a little song for Keahi before pulling out a card.

    “BZT! WE DID NOT FIND ENOUGH TIME FOR INDIVIDUAL PRESENTS, SORRY. HERE IS A CARD THAT WE ALL WORKED ON THOUGH,” Rayden explained as Pearl brought out the card and handed it to the torchic.

    “Don’t worry about it!” Keahi chirped, accepting the card. “I’m glad you all decided to show up! You know, we do have some games in here, you guys could join us!” she offered.

    “Ooh! Could we?” Bobo exclaimed, glancing up at Rayden before turning back to look at the others.

    With a disappointed sigh, Hiram shook his head, “sadly, no. We picked up a longer escort mission, and are supposed to get started in five minutes. We’ll be out of the area for a few days on this,” he explained before looking down at the paras. “And you know that,” he hissed quietly.

    “Yes, sorry about that. We would love to spend more time with you all, but the client called us to let us know that this got bumped up a day, so we’re in a bit of a rush now,” Pearl added.

    “It happens!” Edgar hummed, “at least you still took the time to visit!” he continued, “good luck on the mission though!”

    “Where are you escorting this ‘mon to, anyway?” Alex questioned.

    “Ah! Just a lil’ bulbasaur who missed their herd going east! A shy fellow, they only bumped up the dates because they had written them wrong in the first place,” Baguette explained.

    “BZZ BZZ. HE DOES NOT SEEM TO LIKE FIGHTING MUCH THOUGH. THAT IS WHY HE ASKED FOR AN ESCORT. USUALLY HE HAS HIS HERD TO HELP, BUT AS BAGUETTE SAID, BULBASAUR MISSED IT. BZZ,” Rayden chimed in, “WE HAVE AGREED THAT WE ALL SHOULD HEAD OUT ON THIS ONE.”

    “Very well,” Tsuki murmured, “well, we wish you all luck out there.”

    “Yes! Good luck!” Ceebee said, “and do try to enjoy yourselves out there!”

    “Thank you, and we will,” Pearl hummed, “now, we should be off now. You all have a nice day, and happy birthday again, Keahi.”

    Giving more goodbyes and last birthday wishes, the B Squadron was off again, heading off towards Pokemon Square to pick up their client before heading off on the mission. Now, it was just the A Squadron left in the base again as if that interaction had been taken place to begin with, aside from the new card sitting with the others on top of the bookshelf.

    And with that, it was decided that the presents would be distributed next. All of them, except the one from Nelvana, had been carefully wrapped and set aside for this moment. The bracelet that Nelvana had made was too small for any box or bag, so she had decided to hide it until she had to actually give it to Keahi.

    “Oh! Can I go first? Can I?” Edgar exclaimed, clearly still bouncing on that sugar high.

    Keahi could only let out a laugh in response, “alright, go ahead.”

    Letting out an excited cheer, Edgar dove over to collect the large box that he had wrapped up. There were a couple lines where the wrapping paper didn’t quite meet up, clearly the half-blind duskull misjudging how much he needed, but otherwise it was well-done. The box rattled with the various contents as he picked it up and brought it over to Keahi, setting it down in front of her to open up.

    She paused to look it over and then smile up at Edgar, before beginning to claw it open with her wing talons. The wrapping paper fell off easily, and Keahi opened up the cardboard box to reveal all the various trinkets inside. There are much more than when Nelvana had peeked at the collection a few days ago, and she can’t help but think that moving everything to a box rather than that sack was for the best. Keahi’s beak parted open in a look of surprise, and she gingerly reached inside the box to sort through all the items.

    Unable to contain himself any longer, Edgar begins speaking again, “they’re a bunch of lucky items I found for you! Look! Nel told me that the rocks with rings around them are lucky, so I found a lot of those, and Spinda said that his nephew likes feathers, so I found some of those by the cliffs!”

    Keahi’s beak closed into a smile, “these are really nice, thanks Edgar. I think I’ll have to use some of these to help decorate the house a bit more,” she hummed, “spreading the luck around,” she mused.

    Edgar giggled cheerfully, pleased that his gift was accepted.

    Without a word, Tsuki brought her present out next. She had been unable to wrap it herself, and had enlisted Nelvana’s help to get it done, since the cubone wouldn’t be wrapping her gift anyway. It was another large box like Edgar’s, but it didn’t make any noise when moved, and when Keahi opened it up, she could see that the cooking ingredients that Tsuki had gathered for her present were neatly organized inside.

    “I still don’t know that much of cooking, but I figured you would find some use to these ingredients,” Tsuki murmured.

    “Oh! These are great! Kecleon doesn’t even sell some of these herbs; where did you find them?” Keahi exclaimed, doing her best not to disturb the orderliness in this present while still looking through all its contents.

    Tsuki only gave a knowing smile and a shrug of her shoulders in response, silently prompting the next person to present their gift.

    Ceebee took this silent prompt, heading over to where she had placed her much smaller box. It was the same box Nelvana had seen her with three days ago, and it was in the same red and orange striped wrapping paper that Alex had cut and dropped. She carefully set this in front of Keahi as well, patiently waiting for her gift to be revealed. It was swiftly opened like the others, showing the fiery red gem left inside.

    “Is this… a fire gem?” Keahi asked, almost hesitant to even touch the item.

    Ceebee nodded, “yup! One use item, boosts a fire-type move. We haven’t run into any close calls lately, but… just in case, you know? It’ll make for a real nice flamethrower, no matter where you end up using it!”

    “I’ll have to make sure to save it then,” Keahi said in awe, closing the box again and setting it aside with the two larger ones.

    After a quick glance over at Nelvana, Alex walked over to where the last of the presents that had been set out was left. Despite being just a square envelope, he had wrapped it in wrapping paper like the boxes. Ceebee had told Nelvana that Alex had thought that everything had to be wrapped, but part of Nelvana thought that he just wanted a chance to try using the wrapping paper properly. This was opened faster than the earlier gifts, only requiring a sharp slice with one of her wing talons to open up the top of the envelope, and a bit of shaking to get the TM to fall gently on the ground in front of Keahi.

    “TM94?” Keahi read aloud, “that’s rock smash!”

    “I figured we needed some more fighting-type moves in the party, especially since you will become one if you evolve,” Alex commented, “I figure a lot of torchics in your family have used that move before…?”

    Keahi nodded, “yeah! Since we can’t really learn much better until evolution, you know? I think we even had the old HM version of it until it got lost for good a few years before I hatched. This will be really handy… I’ll actually go ahead and learn it now!”

    As she had done with the last TM that she had learned, which had been flamethrower, she slammed her head down onto the disc instead of picking it up and bringing it to her forehead. Ceebee and Edgar, who had never seen this before, flinched in surprise and began worriedly checking on the torchic, but the laughter from the other three soothed any nerves from this action. The TM glowed beneath Keahi’s feathers, and then cracked.

    And then it was Nelvana’s turn. Standing up, she went over to the bookshelf where she had hidden the bracelet in between the pages of her book like a bookmark. A simple hiding spot, but one she knew that Keahi wouldn’t check if she wanted to see any presents early. This was her book, and because it was written in the human language it was rarely picked up by the half of the team that still didn’t understand that tongue. Carefully, she pulled out the braided string from its place, pausing to look it over one last time before turning back around and giving it to her partner.

    Keahi’s expression was hard to piece together at first. Of course, it takes a moment to register exactly what is being handed over, that’s a given for any item. Then, she carefully took the bracelet, carrying it between each of her wing talons and looking it over. One could almost see the gears moving in her mind as she continued studying the simple bracelet, her beak slowly parting open again with recognition and her brown eyes become filled with understanding.

    “Did you make this?” she finally asked softly, looking back up at Nelvana.

    “Yeah…” Nelvana managed to answer, crouching down beside Keahi again, tempted to give an explanation of her choice like the others but finding her voice stuck.

    Keahi’s face twisted up into a familiar wide smile, and Nelvana felt relief come crashing down onto her at the sign of approval.

    “It’s beautiful,” Keahi whispered, “it’s… it’s like what Combusken has, but it’s mine and you made it for me and you even went and found the right colors…” she continued, emotion bubbling up from inside. “Thank you.”

    There are no more gifts after that. All the cards that were given had been gone through, and no one in Pokemon Square had managed to pull off anything more than that. They threw out most of the wrapping paper, and then that was the end of presents for this birthday.

    Afterwards, there was still some time for everyone to get involved in some games before having to even think about supper. They replayed some of the better ones, but made sure to try everything that Keahi and Edgar had come up with first.

    When supper did come up, they ended up simply having some corn chips with salsa, and later a card game was brought over to play while they ate. During this, Kangaskhan visited briefly like the B Squadron had done a few hours ago. She only had a few minutes before she would need to leave for her supper and then return to the storage stand, but she was able to give some kind words and more birthday wishes before leaving the group alone with each other again.

    “I wish I knew how to make pozole,” Keahi mused, “that would have been really good.”

    “This is still pretty good!” Ceebee responded, taking another chip and dipping it into the salsa almost as if to make an example of her statement.

    “Yeah I know! But pozole is super tasty, and I really like showing you guys new dishes,” Keahi sighed, “but that’s one recipe I never managed to pick up from my mom… I guess I’ll have to wait for a couple days.”

    “…what’s happening in a couple days?” Alex questioned, raising a brow before playing one of his cards.

    Keahi blinked in surprise, and then began nervously laughing, “oh, I guess I was thinking about it so much that I forgot to actually tell you guys… I want to go visit my family again in a couple of days. Maybe celebrate my birthday there, maybe just… visit them again,” she explained.

    “Ah, that’s fair,” Alex murmured, his expression relaxing only slightly.

    “I’d just be gone for the day, I’m sure you all can handle yourselves without me,” Keahi added.

    A few more hours later, and everyone was ready to turn in for the night. It would be good to get some more rest before another more work-filled day, especially since they had all woken up so early. However, while everyone else got settled down in their own sleeping spots, Keahi curled up beside Nelvana in the cubone’s nest. This didn’t happen terribly often, but often enough that Nelvana was adjusted to suddenly getting a warm bundle of feathers shuffling under the blanket beside her.

    “Hey there,” Nelvana whispered, patting the hatless head feathers of her partner.

    “Hello!” Keahi softly chirped, nestling up closely to the cubone.

    “Would you call this a good birthday?” Nelvana asked.

    “Mhmm, I had a good time,” Keahi hummed.

    Nelvana smiled, “that’s good…” she mused, trailing off as several thoughts spun around in her mind. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

    “About?” Keahi prompted, blinking up at Nelvana.

    “I want to do something about bringing back Gardevoir,” Nelvana sighed, “I know that we can’t do anything about it without… Shinobi, or Gengar, or whoever… but I dunno, I want to do something. I feel like there is still something we can do.”

    Keahi paused, her brows furrowing as she mulled over this information, “me too… it was Gardevoir herself that said that it wouldn’t be possible without him though, right?”

    “Yeah,” Nelvana confirmed, nodding.

    “Hm… maybe, if you really want, we can ask Ceebee to use telepathy and get in contact with Ninetales, so we can ask more about it,” Keahi suggested, “later though. We should just get some rest for now.”

    “Alrighty then, goodnight,” Nelvana murmured.

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