#trying to get my life sorted for a trip and whoop remembered i said i would post again before i leave

[labellefleur-sauvage]

The Highland Fox and the English Rose

Read on AO3. Masterlist (with fic summary)

NOTE: Depiction of violence and injury in this chapter.

XXX

Chapter 5: The stars are the map I unfurl

Elain winced, each step utter agony. Her backside ached, the muscles in her thighs she’d never used tense, and her back screamed at her with each forward movement.

“What’s the matter, Elain? Feeling a wee bit sore from yer first day ever riding a horse?”

“Of course I am!” Elain snapped irritably at Lucien, atop Ajax next to her with a supremely smug smile on his tanned face. Even that damned horse gave Elain an imperious sideways glance, like it too found Elain’s discomfort entertaining. “And it’s rude of you to gloat!”

Lucien snorted. “Yer the one who blackmailed me so I’d bring ye along. I believe I’m due to remind ye just how unprepared ye are to spend the next month roughing it on the road with me.”

Elain clenched her fists, perhaps the only part of her body that wasn’t sore and aching. They were only one day out from the castle, and already Elain worried, not for the first time, that she had severely overestimated her abilities and gotten herself mixed up with something she had no business being involved in. 

She wanted to adapt to living in Scotland and wanted to spend time with her admittedly insufferable yet handsome husband, but perhaps she should have eased herself into it, rather than dive headfirst like she had done,  Elain thought. This sort of reckless behavior—tagging along on a daring rescue mission across the wild Scottish Highlands—was something Feyre would do. At the very least, her backside would be thankful if Elain had demonstrated a bit more restraint. 

After a hard day of riding yesterday, Lucien had unceremoniously dumped a thin collection of blankets and padding he called a bedroll at her feet, tossed some crackers and jam at her, and told her to have a good dinner and wash up as best she could with their meager water before going to bed. He hadn’t spoken another word to her last night, and only spoke to her this morning to tell her to pack up so they could get back on the road. Elain had pitifully limped around camp and struggled to climb atop Ajax, lasting all of ten minutes before she begged Lucien to let her walk besides them.

And now, Lucien decided to grace Elain with his taunting words.

“If only someone had tried to warn ye that this would be a hard journey,” Lucien said wistfully. “If only a handsome, clever, resourceful—“

“Yes, yes, alright, I get it!”

“Do ye though?” Lucien was looking at her from the corner of his eye, frowning. “This is no ‘little adventure,’ as ye called it back at the castle. For my mother, this is life or death, depending on when we’re able to get to Sangravah and get her out.”

Elain’s face felt hot. Truthfully, she hadn’t been thinking of Lucien’s mother at all when she demanded to accompany him on this quest, too focused on her own bleeding emotions. For this unknown woman, she was depending on her son’s arrival to save her from a depressing and lonely existence, and Elain had not spared one ounce of sympathy for her mother in law. In a twisted way, she and Lucien’s mother were more alike than not: two women coerced by their male relatives into adopting futures they didn’t want. At least Elain got to experience the wind and sun on her face.

But even now, Elain couldn’t stand to admit to Lucien how selfish she’d been in demanding she join him, especially when he was being so damned arrogant. 

“Well, perhaps you’ll find that I’m more clever than you think,” Elain said loftily. “Apparently Eris thinks I’m smart, based on what he told you.”

“Eris is a conniving bastard who tells people what they want to hear so they’ll agree to his schemes, then stabs them in the back with his dirk when he’s done with them,” Lucien said darkly, mouth tight. “Don’t assume he meant to flatter ye.”

“And that’s worse than neglecting your wife for weeks on end then attempting to leave her for months on end while you embark on a dangerous journey with absolutely no warning?”

Lucien glared at her. “Do not compare me to Eris.”

Elain shrugged nonchalantly, burying her hands in the pockets of her dress as she walked. “You’re both brutal red headed Scotsmen with ulterior motives and foul mouths. Don’t assume you’re the hero here.”

Lucien swore to himself. “Ye think yer so witty, don't ye?”

She glared at Lucien. “Oh, and you think you’re any better? You thought you were so clever with your plans until I figured out what you were up to.”

“Do ye know what people call me?” Lucien replied, turning to look at Elain. “The Highland Fox, on account of my reputation for outsmarting everyone around me and always walking away unscathed. I think ye had a bit of help a few nights ago—Vassa told ye to wait in the garden, didn’t she?” Elain couldn’t help the flash of guilt that crossed her face before she looked away. “Aye, I thought so,” Lucien said grimly. “Vassa and I will have to have a chat the next time I see her.”

“She just wanted us to spend some time together—“

“But this is no’ the place to do it!” Lucien grimaced and pushed his hair away from his face. “She knew how dangerous this mission could be, and she still moved ye into a position to put ye directly in my path, where now I have to deal with keeping ye safe while trying to rescue my mother!”

“I can take care of myself!”

“Ye can’t even handle riding a horse for one day! Don’t lie and say ye can somehow take care of yourself when it’s clear you’ve never had to worry about your wellbeing or anyone else for that matter!”

Anger boiled inside her, like a scalding kettle screaming to be released. Lucien read her like an open book, leisurely flipping through her pages and gleening her truths like scribbles in the margins. Elain had never had to worry about her future or anyone else for that matter—as a woman, there were so few independent activities she could do, the majority of which still kept her confined to the house. That was a normal part of life for any moderately wealthy Englishwoman—so why did Lucien ripping her open and tearing away her pages from her spine affect her so much?

Because an Englishman would never point out these awful truths to me, Elain thought bitterly. Lucien was an absent husband and an arsehole on top of that—Elain could never imagine Greyson saying the things Lucien was saying to her now. Lucien was just a wild and savage Scotsman, and she never felt more at odds with him. 

But if Lucien wanted a fight, Elain could prove she could fight back. 

“I’m surprised that’s clear to you—I’m shocked you’re able to see anything with your arrogance and one eye continuously blinding you!”

As soon as Elain closed her mouth, she regretted what she said. There was rude, and then there was downright nasty; Elain had firmly crossed into the latter with her little remark. 

Instead, Lucien chuckled lowly. “And the supposedly sweet English Rose shows her thorns.”

“Says the man who admits to being called ‘The Highland Fox.’” Elain scoffed. “What a silly nickname, honestly. I haven’t seen anything particularly clever from you since I’ve met you.”

Lucien’s cheeks turned a bit pink, and Elain smirked, triumphant. “Did your sisters prep ye with insults before ye arrived in Scotland, or did ye manage to think of that yourself?”

“I thought of this one all on my own, and I have plenty more ready for the next time you act like an utter idiot!”

“And here I thought I’d be getting a quiet, meek English wife, and instead I marry a selfish, foul-mouthed blackmailer!” Lucien snapped. Below him, Ajax let out a snicker, like it was laughing at Elain.

Elain glared at the meddlesome horse before she turned her attention back to Lucien. “Well that’s your issue. You had assumptions about me before you ever met me. I, on the other hand, had absolutely no expectations for the savage Scotsman I knew I was marrying, and yet I’m still disappointed in you!”

“Likewise, dear.” Lucien glared at her. “Yer father didno’ warn me what an absolute terror ye are! Ye keep your screeching up and you’ll develop a reputation as a harpy with the locals!”

Elain gasped. “Well, you’re a… a… jerk!”

“And yer a brat!”

Elain huffed a breath. She was stomping now, and her feet and ankles soon began aching, along with the rest of her poor body.

They continued on down the empty, dusty road in silence for several minutes. The only thing Elain could hear was the furious beating of her pulse in her ears. Finally Lucien sighed deeply. “All that trampling yer doing must be tiring ye out. Would ye like to join me on Ajax?”

“That’s alright,” Elain replied cooly. “I don’t believe there’s enough room up there for me, between you and your massive ego. I’ll walk by the donkey for company.”

Lucien sighed loudly but didn’t argue as Elain drifted back a few paces to walk next to the sturdy donkey carrying most of their supplies. She distractedly pat its head as she walked, then groaned as she felt the familiar dampness of a summer rain fall on her head. Of course it would rain now. Elain drew the hood of her traveling cloak over her head and glowered at her husband ahead of her. 

Elain wasn’t sure why she thought everything would suddenly be fine between her and Lucien now that it was just the two of them. They were frustrated and near hostile with each other when they were at Castle Macpherson; take away the few comforts and stability they each had, and Elain realized, once again, she hadn’t completely thought out her sudden demand to join Lucien.

Elain huffed. “At least you’re a better traveling companion than him ,” she muttered to the donkey next to her. “You don’t say such rude things and yell at me.” 

One of the donkey’s ears twitched but otherwise it paid her no attention.

“Typical,” Elain muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Do ye just like the sound of yer own voice, or are ye losing yer mind that ye feel the need to talk to an ass?” Lucien called from Ajax, not turning to look at her.

Elain pursed her lips. “Well, I got tired of talking to you, so I thought I might as well see how the other ass compares!” she shrieked over the rain.

Yes, perhaps Elain has been a bit naive when it came to her husband.

By the time they stopped for the evening, what felt like hours later, Elain was about ready to cry with pain from her aching legs and feet. She couldn’t recall ever walking more than the distance it took to get from her childhood home in the English countryside to the nearby village; everything longer than that fifteen minute walk required the carriage.

Elain refused to speak to or even look at Lucien, but he still seemed to read her current mood. “Come sit down on your bedroll and I’ll take care of dinner,” he said gruffly.

She wasn’t going to complain. Elain watched listlessly as Lucien set up their meager camp then prepared a downright luxurious meal of salted pork, brown bread and butter, then finished with some berries he found near the stream where he had filled up their water pouches. 

Lucien stood over her after dinner, a frown on his plush lips. “Ye look fookin’ miserable.”

Elain didn’t respond, still annoyed with him and slightly embarrassed over her childish outburst. 

He gave a long suffering sigh. “Take yer boots off and lay down.”

She awkwardly peeled her boots off and nearly sobbed at the instant relief she felt, which was nearly dashed away when Lucien plunked down next to her and pulled one of her legs into his lap.

“What are you-!”

“I was going to work yer muscles over since yer so sore.”

Elain sneered. “Out of the goodness of your heart, or because you’re so desperate to touch me?”

A muscle clenched in Lucien’s jaw. “No, because ye throwing your little tantrum and walking today cost us valuable time. If ye can stand to ride on Ajax, then it’s better for the both of us.”

Chastised, Elain silently let Lucien massage the muscles in her aching legs. It felt heavenly: he applied just enough force for her muscles to relax, but not hard enough that it was painful. He carried on over her calves and ventured up to her legs. Lucien reached the back of her thigh and Elain couldn’t stop the small gasp of relief she let out as he dug his fingers into her flesh and massaged her muscles. Being this close to certain other parts of her made Elain remember that night in the garden when they almost kissed. She was so tempted to open her legs, drag those strong hands exactly where she wanted them…

If Lucien was affected like Elain, he hid it much better than her. He moved away from her thighs, and Elain gave a quiet disappointed sigh. His hands skimmed her ankles before moving to her feet. Elain giggled and jerked her leg when he brushed the sensitive bottom of her foot.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth ticked up. “Wee bit ticklish, are ye?”

“I’ll trust you not to use my greatest weakness to your advantage, I hope.”

“No promises,” he replied, still grinning slightly and brushing another finger over her foot. 

Elain barked a laugh and pulled away. “If you’re just going to torment me—“

“Oh, I plan on doing far more to ye than just torment ye,” Lucien said, and there it was: the all-consuming desire that made Elain lose all sense around her husband came back to life. They were so close; all Elain had to do was reach out for him, take his hand—

Lucien withdrew suddenly, the small grin on his face gone. “Er, I think it’s time we went to sleep. We’ll have a long journey tomorrow.”

A sudden snowstorm couldn't make Elain feel as cold as she did then. Nodding numbly, Elain settled on her bedroll while Lucien stood up and made his way towards his own makeshift bed on the other side of camp.

“Goodnight,” Elain called softly. Lucien didn’t respond, and Elain tried not to let her embarrassment and disappointment ruin her sleep.

The next day Elain accepted Lucien’s invitation to ride with him atop Ajax. He didn’t say anything about their immature argument the day before, but Elain noticed his woolen sleeping blanket over the saddle where she would sit. It was a peace offering, the only one Lucien could give that Elain would accept. She settled in, feeling Lucien’s comforting warmth seep into her back.

XXX

Lucien had to hand it to Elain: she was handling this entire situation far better than he had thought she would.

True, her first day or two hadn’t been smooth for either of them, for different reasons. He still winced whenever he recalled her stubbornly limping beside Ajax when she could physically no longer bear to ride him. Once he had massaged her legs—Lucien, the brute that he was, wanted to do so much more, but knew she’d reject him—Elain recovered quickly and since then, she had been riding atop the horse, her small and soft body snug between his thighs.

“Are we almost done for the day?”

Speak of the devil. “Nope,” Lucien replied cheerfully, keeping his grip on the reins in front of them both relaxed. “We’re still a few miles from Drumnadrochit, on the shores of Loch Ness. There’s a wee forest outside of town we can camp in, it’ll be grand.”

She mumbled something under her breath that sounded incredibly vulgar and Lucien chuckled. Elain was doing far better than Lucien had anticipated, but that didn’t mean he could let her off the hook so easily. 

“Why can’t we stay in an inn? Surely we don’t have to resort to sleeping outside every night?”

“Because I didna’ bring much coin—it’s risky having a lot of coin on ye with only two people to defend it. What I did bring is for food so until ye find an ancient lost treasure, we'll be sleeping outside.”

Elain grumbled again but kept quiet. Nothing had changed in their marriage now that they were together constantly on the road: they still barely spoke or looked at each other, and slept as far away from each other as they could stand. Still, it was an improvement from their screaming match a few days ago.

That was embarrassing—he had said quite a few things he didn’t mean and didn’t have a clue how to resolve. Lucien was convinced that if he had tried to apologize, Elain would take his words for weakness or a lie, and they’d get into another argument. 

No, better to keep silent and keep the peace, than risk talking to his wife and getting to know her. 

Truly, the only difference between their time at the castle and now was that Lucien spent every day with Elain’s plush backside against his front, where only his inconvenient kilt separated his aching length from her body. 

Perhaps Lucien wasn’t handling this situation as well as he thought.

“When we camp tonight, I’ll bring out the oat cake I nabbed from the kitchen, and we can have tattie scones in the morning.”

“Joy,” Elain deadpanned. “Oats for dinner and potato bread in the morning.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Yer the one who insisted on accompanying me and wouldn’t let me leave without ye. Ye don’t get to complain about anything, aye? That includes the food, sleeping arrangements, and travel companion.”

Elain turned and scrunched her face up at Lucien before turning back around in a huff. “Well, the donkey has been very a gracious and patient companion, and dutifully listens to everything I say,” she said in a mockingly innocent tone.

“The donkey shits where it walks and has nary a thought betwixt its ears, so I’m not sure I trust yer judgment when it comes to those around ye.”

“Hm, seems you and your animals have far more in common than you realized.”

Ajax snickered underneath them, and Lucien flexed his thighs against the horse and Elain’s soft legs, keeping his mouth shut. It was going to be a long few months.

They set up camp later that night in silence and ate their dinner—crusty bread, cheese and the last of their cured meat. Lucien frowned—they were eating their food faster than he had rationed, and would have to stop in Drumnadrochit to replenish their rations.

The last beams of sunlight shone through the trees above him and Lucien sighed, settling against his bedroll. Maybe he’d try to find the stream he knew from maps was somewhere nearby for an evening swim. Maybe, if he were nice and offered to massage her legs again, he could convince Elain to come with. She’d gone so pliant and agreeable the last time he did it, Lucien liked his chances.

Lucien was just about to open his mouth when Elain stood and began making her way through the trees, her pack over her shoulder.

“Where do ye think you’re going?”

“I’m not leaving,” she said. “I just need to take care of some womanly business.”

“Ah,” Luien said delicately, his face heating slightly. “With yer entire pack? Do ye need me to go with ye?”

“I don’t need you everywhere with me.”

Lucien rose a single eyebrow. “I thought the whole reason ye forced yourself along on this trip was because ye felt I wasno’ giving ye enough attention.”

Elain flushed even more. “Yes, well, sometimes women say one thing but mean another, and this is one of those instances.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means give me ten minutes to be myself for the first time in days! I’ll be back before it gets dark.”

Lucien groaned, covering his eyes with an arm. Elain was so contradictory: she complained that he ignored her and didn’t spend any time with her—true—then complained when they were forced to spend time with each due to her own actions. 

Lucien sighed and ran his thumb over the ring on his left hand. He’d give her a few more moments then go out and find her. He closed his eye—

And awoke to near darkness and a rustling beside him. His dirk was in his hand before he was fully awake.

“It’s just me,” Elain whispered somewhere to his side. “Do you always wake up and immediately grab a weapon?”

“I’m Scottish, I was born with a knife in hand,” Lucien mumbled, sitting up and looking around. He could just make out Elain’s figure on her lumpy sleeping mat a few feet from him, a wool blanket over her. She hadn’t brought any warm sleeping clothes, and Lucien had been secretly delighted to give her one of his old tunics to sleep in.

“Did ye go far?”

“I found a stream nearby, though I must have taken a different path back because I got a bit lost.”

“‘A bit lost’?” Lucien exclaimed, his heart hammering in his chest. “Who kens what could have happened to ye if ye didn’t find yer way back! There are wild animals about, or ye could have fallen and gotten hurt!”

He saw the outline of Elain’s body stiffen. “Well, I’m fine and I came back, alright?”

Lucien dragged his hand over his face. God, his wife was stubborn—a trait that wasn’t unique to just her, he realized. How could Lucien make Elain understand that he needed her to be safe, and for the time, that meant staying close to him? He wanted, needed , Elain to always be safe, not just because she was his wife, but because the thought of anything bad happening to her made him sick to his stomach and had caused him to sleep poorly every night they’d been on the road.

Lucien took a deep breath. “I ken ye came back, but it’s dangerous out there. What if ye fell and twisted yer ankle? It gets cold in the evening, and when the wind is roaring, ye can’t hear anything betwixt the trees. Ye could be crying out for help, cold and in pain, and I wouldna’ be able to hear ye.”

Elain paused. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

That was promising—Elain wasn’t fighting back, so Lucien pressed on. “We havana’ exactly had the best start, but it’s just us two out here. We need to be able to trust each other, and that means talking with each other. Something we both need to work on,” Lucien admitted.

Elain was silent for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, “for making you worry. I didn’t think how my actions would affect you.”

“Not for the first time,” Lucien muttered, and he was surprised to hear Elain let out a rather self-deprecating chuckle. 

“You don’t need to say any more about that. Though, I’ll admit, I’d be helpless if we got truly separated.”

The thought made Lucien’s stomach clench. “I brought some maps of the Highlands. I’ll get them out tomorrow for ye to look over while we’re riding.”

“That would be nice.” Lucien thought he could hear something like a smile in her voice. She was silent, and he thought she might have gone to sleep. “And I’m sorry for being difficult earlier. I perhaps… didn’t think this entire situation through and…”

Lucien didn’t need Elain to say anymore. “That's alright. Maybe we wouldna’ be here if I was honest with ye from the start.”

Elain snorted. “Oh, we most certainly would have still ended up here—I’d have used any means necessary to go with you, if it meant I got to see more of the world.”

He hummed. The more Lucien learned about Elain, the more he realized how utterly wrong his initial opinions of her had been. Far from the frigid Englishwoman he’d assumed he had married, Elain was warm and teaming with life and desires so near to his own. She was clever and stubborn and wanted more from life than what she was currently living, traits he recognized in himself. 

“Is it too late for that oat cake you mentioned earlier?” Elain asked quietly.

“Aye, I can’t see anything to know where it's in my bag.”

Elain sighed with disappointment, and Lucien’s chest ached at the sound. “That’s alright, maybe in the morning.”

“I was planning on stopping by Drumnadrochit tomorrow morn for some extra provisions. How about we stop by the inn for a hot meal, see if we can find ye some proper night clothes?”

Stupid. Why was he offering to waste more precious time and resources they didn’t have to wile away a morning in a simple village that most likely didn’t even have more than a basic goods store?

Lucien knew why. He’d only heard a whiff of disappointment in Elain’s voice and he had folded like a wet kilt, desperate to see and hear her happy instead. 

He got his wish instantly. “Really?” she asked. “That would be wonderful!”

“This isno’ one of those womanly times where you say one thing and mean another, is it?” Lucien teased. 

Elain chuckled. “Most definitely not. A proper Scottish village, how exciting.”

“Don’t get yer hopes up,” Lucien warned. “There will probably be more pigs than people.”

“That’s alright,” Elain replied happily. “Just seeing something new would be wonderful. Goodnight Lucien.”

“Goodnight Elain,” he said softly, listening to her soft breathing eventually evening out. 

Elain was a mystery, and frustrating, and temperamental, and obviously keeping secrets about something. Just like he had been earlier, Lucien realized. This must be how Elain felt when she was holed up in the castle after the wedding, he thought wryly.

Vassa was right—he really had been an ass to Elain. Maybe his friend had a better idea of his wife’s true character than he did. 

Lucien hoped Elain wouldn’t hold his past actions against him for long.

She certainly didn’t seem to mind him the next morning, rushing to dress and pack up her gear before Lucien had brushed the sleep from his eye.

“I dinnae realize how motivated ye’d be for a hot meal,” Lucien remarked dryly as they made their way towards Drumnadrochit. “I’ll have to tempt ye more often with good food if yer this springy in the mornings.”

“Well, it’s not just the food,” Elain answered, turning her head and arching an eyebrow. “I’m excited to see this town, Dromna–Drumma–”

“Drumnadrochit,” Lucien said slowly and clearly, enunciating each syllable so Elain could understand him. “Are ye that excited to see this little fishing village?” Lucien asked skeptically. “It’s nothing like Edinburgh, or even Inverness.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Elain said, bouncing in the saddle like she could will Ajax to trot along even faster. “And you said the village is next to Loch Ness. We didn’t have many reading materials about Scotland back in England and the ones I did read, er…”

“Only mentioned what bloodthirsty savages us Scots are?”

“Well, perhaps,” Elain admitted, the morning sun warming her flushed cheeks. “But none of them mentioned how breathtaking the scenery is. The sights I’ve seen in the past few days alone...”

“Aye, Scotland is verra beautiful, especially the farther north we go. Great peaks and forests, waterfalls, fields of heather as far as the eye can see—“

“And we’ll get to see it all?”

“Aye, we’ll get to see it all.”

Elain turned around in the saddle and smiled at him. “Let’s get a move on, then.”

“It seems we’re finally in agreement on something,” Lucien chuckled. “Before we get into town, it may be better if ye speak quietly, or no’ at all. I’m no’ sure how the folks up here would take to a bonnie English lass like ye.”

“You mean they wouldn’t instantly be charmed by my lovely accent and quick wit and wouldn’t run me out of town?” Elain asked sarcastically.

“Let’s no’ find out.”

Lucien had never been to Drumnadrochit, having gone around the other side of the loch when traveling to Inverness, but he’d been to enough small Highland villages to know what to expect. On the outskirts of town were several stone and sod houses huddled together, their rough roofs covered with tree branches and a single flume of smoke wafting upwards. Women sat outside their huts spinning wool or churning butter while gossiping with one another, and small children ran around barefoot. Lucien felt dozens of pairs of eyes sweeping over scarred his face before settling on the dirks, sword and crossbow strapped to his body, their wary judgment leaching into his already tense body. 

Elain didn’t notice anything amiss. She looked around wildly as they passed more houses until they turned onto the town’s main street, its beaten dirt road soggy from a previous rain. 

Ajax’s hooves splattered mud as they made their way further into town. From here, Lucien saw the town had a blacksmith and provisioners shop, and even a large church, its bell announcing the morning hour to the townspeople. Looking down the street gave Elain and Lucien a view of the great stone fortress of Castle Urquhart, home to Clan Grant, and beyond that—

“Oh,” Elain gasped softly, her eyes wide as she gazed at Loch Ness. Its water was murky, but it still managed to faintly glimmer in the morning light, offset by the lush green hills surrounding it. 

“You’re verra lucky,” Lucien remarked casually as they made their way to the inn. “This particular loch has never looked so nice when I’ve seen it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Elain said, craning her neck for another view. “I could stare at it all day.”

“There’s plenty of other peaty lakes to stare at this far north,” Lucien snorted. “Besides, we’ve already attracted enough attention from the villagers, we don’t need ye gawking at the loch like a silly goose to let everyone know you’re no’ from around here.”

The inn, which seemed to also serve as the town’s drinking establishment, was sparsely populated. A few people sat around low tables conversing and drinking, while one man was slumped in the corner, a brown flat cap pulled over his face.

“I’ll get us breakfast. Doona talk to anyone,” Lucien reminded Elain. She rolled her eyes but listened, opting to look around at her surroundings.

“Is tha’ one alreeght?” the old bar maid asked Lucien as he stood against the bar after ordering some breakfast, gesturing towards Elain who was looking around the drab inn in wonder. The wrinkles around the bar maid’s eyes crinkled as she narrowed her eyes at her. “She seems a wee bit shocked at sumthing.”

“Er, she doesnae’ get out much,” Lucien winced, taking two bowls of warm oats drizzled with local honey and berries from her and handing over several coins.

The lady hummed. “Take these, on the hoose,” she said, sliding two small glasses of whisky towards him. “She looks like she needs it.”

“Taing,” Lucien replied, balancing everything back to the table.

Elain raised a questioning glance at the bowls and glasses. 

“Oats,” Lucien said, handing her a bowl, “and a dram of local whisky, courtesy of the woman at the bar.” He didn’t feel like mentioning the whisky only came because the barmaid felt a shock of alcohol would do Elain good.

“How nice,” Elain whispered, staring at the small glass in her hand. “I’ve never had whisky.”

“Well, this stuff may not be of the highest quality,” Lucien admitted quietly so no one would overhear. “I suggest drinking it in one go, to get it over with.”

Elain nodded sagely. “Do you cheers? I’ve seen men do that, when they clink their glasses together.”

“Slainte mhath,” Lucien said, gently knocking his glass against hers. “Slainte mhath.”

“Slange va,” Elain said clumsily, then tossed the entire contents of the glass into her mouth.

Lucien drank and shuddered. Unsurprisingly, the whisky had a strong peat taste, owing to the area’s soil. It also hadn’t been aged long, or well, and all he could taste was pure, burning alcohol as it slipped down his throat.

Not the worst bit of whisky he’d ever had.

Lucien had to bite his lip and cover his mouth when he glanced at Elain’s face. Her normally soft, sweet face was contorted in a grimace, one eye twitching and the other watering as she swallowed the liquid. She coughed loudly before she covered her mouth to contain the rest of her fit.

“I think that was my reaction the first time I tried whisky,” Lucien chuckled, dipping a spoon into his oats. 

“Good lord,” Elain whispered brokenly, her voice hoarse. “What the hell is in that?”

“Grain, water, and by the taste, peat straight from the loch and hellfire from Satan’s own arsehole.”

“Never again,” Elain gasped softly, reaching a trembling hand out to grip her spoon. “I’ll stick to wine and maybe ale, but I’m never drinking whisky again.”

“Never say never,” Lucien grinned. “There are much better ones around. I have several good quality whiskys back home we can sample when we get back.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can say or do that would convince me to try any more of that drink in my lifetime.”

“Oh, I can be verra persuasive when I want to be,” Lucien shot back, delighted when he noticed Elain blush.

She ate a mouthful of the oats and groaned softly, then began devouring the rest of the food. Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Are they really that much better than the oats I’ve been making every morning?”

“Yours aren’t as warm and tasty as this,” Elain replied, daintily licking her spoon. Lucien’s cock, which had been in varying states of stiffness the entire morning, roared back to life at seeing her small tongue caress the spoon.

I’ll give you something warm and tasty , the lecherous part of his brain supplied. Lucien gulped. “Maybe we can see if they have honey for sale.”

Drumnadrochit did in fact have honey for sale, as well as all kinds of food for their journey. Stopping by the crowded provisioner store, Lucien stocked up on oats for porridge, hardy and long lasting barley cakes, dried meat, hard cheese, bread, dried beans, and even a few potatoes and stalks of kale for a stew, plus a long woolen dress for Elain. 

“Quite the spree yer gon’ on,” the shopkeeper remarked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Offta somewhere then?”

“None of yer concern,” Lucien snapped, grabbing his purchases. “Nosy geezer,” he mumbled under his breath.

The donkey didn’t appreciate the extra weight, braying loudly as Lucien packed their new foodstuffs to its back. “Here are the maps I mentioned last night,” Lucien said, handing Elain a few creased paper maps before taking his place behind her on Ajax and leading them out of town at a steady pace. He looked up at the increasingly darkening sky and leaned over her. “We’re right here.”

“I see,” Elain said, studying the map intently. She was silent for a time looking at the maps, and soon Drumnadrochit was out of sight. “And we’re going all the way up here, to Sangravah?” she asked, pointing to the small island off the far northern coast.

“Aye. It’ll be a wee bit cold by the time we get up there so I expect ye’ll be wearing that new dress quite a bit.”

“Hm. Where are your trade routes exactly? I see very few roads on any of these maps, especially the farther north you travel.”

“They mainly follow existing wagon and cattle trails, or run next to rivers and other bodies of water. I have some contacts in Inverness who are printing me some updated maps. I’ve set up a few route markers for the roads near the Macpherson clan. After we rescue my mother—“

An arrow whizzed by Lucien’s arm, grazing his sleeve and knicking his bicep. In the time it took for Elain to cry out, Lucien had brought Ajax to halt, taken out his sword and swung off the horse.

“Stay on Ajax!” Lucien called, facing three men who were rapidly approaching them on the road. “If I tell ye to run, ye run, understand?”

Elain’s pale face was stricken, her body frozen on the horse. “Elain!”

“I, I can’t leave you,” she said. “I won’t–“

“Do ye remember what I told ye when I said ye could come with me? Yer to listen to everything I tell ye to do. If that includes running to save yerself and leaving me, ye do that, aye?”

Elain’s eyes were wide and for a split second Lucien thought she was going to argue with him. Instead, she jerked her head up and down.

“Good. Take this,” he said, handing her one of his small dirks, “and aim for the neck or bollocks if you need to.”

Her hand was trembling so hard Lucien thought she might drop the blade but she gripped it tight and held it close to her chest.

“Don’t go stabbing yourself now,” he smirked at her. “You’re far too pretty to have a knife wound on ye. Go!” he shouted, slapping Ajax’s hindquarters so the horse trotted away from Lucien, the donkey trotting after them.

Lucien turned towards the three men who slowed to a stop fifteen feet away, tying his hair back. “Who the fuck are ye and what do ye want?”

“Just a few men who’ve fallen on hard times,” one of the men with a brown cap on his head said. “We couldno’ help but notice that sweet bonnie lass o’ yers when ye stopped for a bit of food this morn’, and mah associate here noticed how much coin ye dropped at the shop later. Perhaps ye could spare a bit of coin, for charity.”

“Charity, my ass, shooting arrows with that shite aim at me.”

Brown cap cocked his head. “I hit exactly where I meant to. Seems ye have plenty of food for ye and that lass of yers. I’ve killed men for less.”

Lucien cursed himself. He recognized the muddy brown cap the man wore, the same hat that was covering his face in the inn. And the provisioner store was so crowded, and he had purchased so much at one time. Lucien should have been more on guard, more sensible. But Elain had been so happy and cheerful that Lucien forgot all about common sense and what he should have done. 

“Lucky for me I’ve also killed men for less.” The three men slowly circled Lucien and withdrew their blades. He made a quick mental count of his own weapons–the crossbow strapped to his back would be of no help here, his useless pistol was buried at the bottom of his pack on Ajax, and he’d just given Elain his best dirk.

Unsheathing his sword from his back, Lucien widened his stance and rotated to face each of the three men. “Well, come on then, ye piss soaked rags. I haveno’ got all day.”

Just like he anticipated, the man from his left attacked first, raising a dirk in a fat fist towards Lucien’s chest. It hadn’t been long since he lost his left eye, but Lucien had learned very quickly that opponents viewed his missing eye as a weakness and targeted his left side more heavily than anywhere else. 

Spinning to dodge the man, Lucien ducked underneath the man’s flailing arm and ran his sword through his enemy’s stomach. There was a bit of resistance as his sword pushed through the man’s substantial belly before he withdrew and the man crumpled before him. 

Lucien roared as an explosion of pain, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since that fateful day back at the Clan Vanserra keep, radiated from his left shoulder as another man dug his dirk into Lucien’s back and grabbed him around his neck from behind, dragging him to the ground. The man tightened his arms around his neck as Lucien flailed his body. Lucien’s hands scrabbled against his choker’s arms, trying to dislodge him from his windpipe.

“I’ll make sure to treat that sweet English lass of yers to a real fine time,” his opponent whispered in his ear. “I’m sure plenty o’ people back in the village will be keen to show what we do to English pigs in Scotland.”

The black that had been invading the edges of Lucien’s eye turned red. Abandoning his opponent’s arms, Lucien cast about on the ground for the dirk that had stabbed him. Wrapping his hand around the short pommel, Lucien didn’t think or look as he thrust the dagger above him.

The arms around his neck slackened instantly and a gush of warm blood fell on Lucien’s head. Gagging, he rolled away and rose to his feet on unsteady legs.

“That’s a wee bit better now, aye?” Lucien croaked, wiping his face as best he could and gathering his sword to face the last man. “One against one, a bit more even.”

“Aye,” the man in the brown cap replied, a vicious smirk on his lips. “Hopefully those two fools tired ye out enough that this’ll be easy for me.”

It was misting around them, the dark clouds above finally releasing its rain. Lucien and his opponent circled each other for a few heartbeats before the man lunged towards Lucien with a one-handed ax held above his head. Throwing his sword up, Lucien grit his teeth as the reverberations from the clashing steel traveled straight to his screaming shoulder. Lucien sighed with relief when the man withdrew.

“That’s far too nice of an ax for a shit stain like you,” Lucien snarled, taking a large sweeping arc with his sword that the man easily parried. “Where’d ye get it from?”

“From the last man who tried to kill me,” his opponent said, slicing the ax towards Lucien. “Maybe I’ll use it to give ye a matching scar on the other side of yer face, ye ugly freak.”

Lucien barely dodged the next attack and nearly slipped in the mud. “The lasses actually find the scars verra charming.”

The man snarled as Lucien’s sword finally connected with his body, shallowly slicing his arm. “What about that bonnie lass yer with? I’m sure she’d prefer a man that isno’ cut up like you. Are ye missing anything else besides an eye? My cock is in one piece. Sure she’d like it more than whatever is dangling between yer legs.”

For the second time, Lucien saw red. “My wife is perfectly fine with my missing eye and fat cock,” he snarled, ignoring the rational part of his brain that said Elain had never seen that part of him. Without thinking, he sent a wide, slicing sweep attack towards the man. Like he was watching in slow motion, Lucien watched as the rain-slicked handle of his sword slipped from his hand and sent the sword flying towards his opponent.

The sword connected fully with the man’s neck, and his head rolled away before his body fell to the ground. 

Lucien fell to his knees, gasping with pain and exertion. Now that the fight was over, the mind numbing pain of his shoulder wound was all he could feel. It was raining hard now, and Lucien staggered to his feet and collected his sword. 

His opponent’s blood–the one whose neck he had slashed–ran down his face and into his eyes and mouth. Spitting, Lucien began hobbling down the road where he thought he sent Elain and Ajax, using his sword as a makeshift crutch. “Elain!”

No response. Lucien kept staggering forward, fighting the pain and the voice inside his head that told him to just lay down. “Elain!”

Had she left him? Lucien thought they were finally connecting with each other and moving past their rough few weeks of matrimony. Had that all been a foolish dream on his part?

The rain was heavy now, and Lucien could barely see more than a few feet in front of him. “Elain,” he called out weakly and fell to his knees. This was how he was going to die. As long as Elain was safe, it was worth it.

“Lucien!”

He grunted as someone brushed his shoulder wound and collapsed into the mud. Someone was supporting him, and urging him onwards, but Lucien wasn’t aware of anything else, not even the dry ground that greeted him when he collapsed.

[mrs-gucci]

It’s Just Politics (Part 1 of 2)

Commander Mills x senator!Reader (f)

written for my welcome back celebration, phase one. 

y’all voted, y’all wanted me to write some more Mills, so here I am :) this is part one of two, so enjoy the beginning of the story and get excited for part two which will be coming soon!!

content warnings. accidentally walking in on someone naked (he walks in on her), implied/mentioned age difference (gap not specified, Mills is 36)

word count: 3.4k (...whoops)

summary~ Commander Mills reluctantly takes a last-minute job captaining the Senator of Somaris’s personal ship on a flight to Cyllene for this year’s galactic policy conference. Both of them get much, much more than they bargained for...but they’re not necessarily complaining about it.

"You're kidding me."

Jai shakes his head, continuing to submit order forms for ship parts.

"I'm dead serious, man. Travis wants you to do it, it'll pay well, and you won't be gone for that long. At least two weeks, it's just to Cyllene for the annual galactic policy conference. Simple."

"Nothing is ever simple with her, you know that. She's impossible to deal with." Mills huffs. "What happened to her captain? Why can't he do it?"

"Dunno. I think he transferred or is off on a long-range mission. I can't remember, but you should take it. Even though the Senator is a bit of a difficult client, she has a lot of power and could easily help you get a higher-paying job."

Mills knows Jai is right. He should take this job; he needs the money after paying for Nevine's treatments. He has to continue supporting his wife even if their marriage is a bit on the rocks.

"Fine," he says after a moment. "I'll tell Travis that I'll take the job."

Jai smiles, walking past his coworker and giving him a pat on the back as he does so. He lets out a soft chuckle. "Good man. Just...try not to kill her, okay?"

Mills hums, smiling ever so slightly.

"No promises."

***

"Are all of my dresses packed properly?" you ask the service droid as it begins to load your things onto the dolly. "It's of the utmost importance that they not be wrinkled. I want to represent Somaris to the best of my ability at this year's conference."

"Yes, Mistress," the droid says. "I made sure to pack each one myself."

You nod slightly. "Good. Thank you, I always appreciate your hard work, PZ."

"Of course. I am always at your service, Senator."

PZ finishes loading the bags and quickly takes them to the royal vessel while you prepare for the long journey ahead. You always hate going up into space, but unfortunately, it's an integral part of your job, so you have to do it more often than you'd prefer.

You walk to the docking bay, and you stop as soon as you see him walking towards your ship.

"You're kidding me."

Mills huffs out a soft laugh as he passes you. "Yeah, that's what I said too."

"Tell me you're not the one flying the ship. Please, please tell me you're not in charge of this trip--" You catch up to him.

"I need the money, alright?" Mills says, jaw clenching. "That's the only reason I agreed to it. Trust me, I wish I didn't have to, but there's hardly any work for pilots right now."

"No need to give me your whole life story, Mills. I won't cry you a river like others may have."

You roll your eyes and walk towards the ship ramp, immediately colliding with him. Apparently, he decided to step forward at that exact moment that you did. You huff and leave him in the dust, boarding the ship and immediately going to your sleeping quarters. 

This'll be an interesting journey, that much you're sure of...

***

For the third time in the thirty minutes you've been flying, your water glass nearly falls onto the floor as the ship suddenly jerks to the side, then a bit downward, before returning to a steady state. You shut the computer off and walk to the cockpit, immediately hearing Mills's grumblings as he reaches across the controls console. 

"I know you dislike me, but I didn't think you'd try any sort of murder attempt until much later in the trip," you say, crossing your arms as you stand in the doorway. "And I must say, I'm extremely disappointed in your efforts thus far."

Mills's jaw clenches once again. And here he was, starting to relax now that he's mostly figured out the new controls...

"For now, I figured having you get sick would be satisfying enough," he says, turning around to look at you. "The murder attempts will be much more obvious, I assure you. Plus, keeping you alive until after the conference is in my best interest, so I get paid for at least half of the trip."

You chuckle dryly. "Fair point. Now, are you sure that all of your licenses and qualifications aren't expired? Because you're flying this ship almost as badly as I do, and I don't have any licenses."

"I've never flown a ship with such unnecessarily complicated controls," he replies simply. "This is a class of ship I'm not used to handling."

"Mm, mhm. Sure, my ship's definitely the problem. You could never be at fault for not having flown a diverse range of ships in your many years of being a pilot...because you're old."

He huffs. "Really, you're resorting to calling me 'old' now? You can't find any more halfway decent or clever comebacks in your apparently vast bank of them?"

You smirk slightly. "So you admit that my comebacks are clever and good?"

"No, I said they're clever and halfway decent," he says, unable to help the tiny upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Big difference. Also, I'm not old."

"Everyone who's old tried to say they're not old. If you're over 40, you're officially old."

"How old do you think I am?" He looks back at you.

"I dunno," you shrug. "Like 40."

"Fuck, I'm 36," he grumbles, turning back to flip a switch on the panel. "Go back to your quarters, Senator. I'll try to keep the ship under control, although I doubt it'll be to your very high standards."

You turn and begin to walk away. Suddenly, the ship dips again, and you nearly lose your balance, falling into the wall. You whip your head around and hear the softest of chuckles from the cockpit, rolling your eyes at the sound.

"Just do your damn job, Mills."

***

Mills sighs as he flips the autopilot switch and prepares to head off to his sleeping quarters. He probably should've asked where his quarters were before takeoff, but honestly, he didn't even think of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with you.

As much as he hates to admit it, you actually intrigue him. You're young, beautiful, and incredibly hard-headed. All qualities he saw in his wife when he first met her.

Several doors line the hallway, and Mills picks the one closest to the cockpit. It opens, and it's a closet filled to the brim with luggage and garment bags. He huffs, then shuts it promptly.

He moves to the next door, already mentally checking out for the night. When it opens, his eyes widen. 

You're standing completely bare, applying your body lotion before you dress for bed. You turn around and gasp, quickly covering your breasts before turning away.

"Get out!"

Mills, for a moment, can't bring himself to move. Fuck, it's been a while since he's seen a naked woman, and you're so--

"GET OUT!" you exclaim, looking back at Mills. "OUT!!"

He suddenly snaps back into reality, muttering an apology before shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. He tries to commit it all to memory: how your skin shone in the dim lamplight, your plump breasts and hardened nipples, the beautiful curve of your hips...

Turning away, he walks to the final door in the hall, which contains a small cot. He puts his things into the small dresser and tries not to revisit his memories of your body. It's highly inappropriate for him to lust after a woman years his junior, especially since he hates you, and you two have yet to have a non-argumentative conversation.

Suddenly, the door slides open as Mills takes off his shirt. He turns around and sees you, now dressed in a nightgown, looking absolutely infuriated. But he doesn't miss how your eyes dart down his body momentarily.

"What is wrong with you??" You ask angrily, glaring up at him. "Why didn't you close the door right away? Why'd you keep looking at me? Are you some kind of pervert or something?"

He huffs, turning away from you.

"No, I'm not a pervert. I just froze up for a moment. I was surprised. I thought the room would be empty...it won't happen again. It was an accident."

"Mhm. Aren't you married? How would your wife feel if she saw you staring like that?"

"Yeah, well, she and I aren't exactly on the same page these days," he says, pulling his sleep shirt on before turning to you again. "So what, you wanna see my dick, make us even?"

Well, kind of.

You huff, crossing your arms. "No," you say. "Because I'm a lady and would never do anything like that."

Mills chuckles. "Mhm. You just keep telling yourself that."

He reaches for the pants resting over his hips. "If you're such a lady, I suggest you head out before you see anything improper. God forbid."

"Goodnight to you too, Captain."

***

Mills's quarters are open when you pass by, so who wouldn't be curious about what secret life this guy could be living? You look around, then step inside. It's very basic; he's brought almost nothing personal. Well, almost nothing. You spot a holoprojector lying on his bed.

Is the great Commander Mills enjoying some pornography during his downtime?

Chuckling softly at the thought, you pick it up carefully and turn it on, purely out of curiosity. What comes up is incredibly unexpected. It's a young girl playing with a toy ship. Suddenly, it clicks in your mind: this is his daughter. Before she…

You scroll to the next one, and the next, and the next, watching only a few seconds of each. Then, you reach one where she's looking much sickly. She's got a nasal cannula in, and her cough, which you noticed throughout the videos, is much worse.

And then, you flip to the very last side. It's the voice of your wife, hand on your daughter's lifeless one.

Oh no—

"What are you doing?"

You gasp softly, startled at the sound. He's calm, but a certain edge to his voice sends a little chill down your spine.

"I-I..." you don't have an answer. "I thought this was something--"

"Give that to me," he snaps, snatching it from your hands and turning it off. "This is my quarters, my personal space. What's so hard to understand about that, huh?!"

You open your mouth to speak. He doesn't allow it.

"I would never think to step into your room and look through your belongings. You think just because you're a senator that you outrank me and can do whatever the fuck--"

"That's not it!" you say suddenly. "It was wrong, alright? I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I let my curiosity get the best of me. I didn't think you'd have anything like that."

For a moment, Mills is genuinely surprised at your quick admittance of guilt. He thought you'd surely make up some bullshit excuse as to why you're in here looking through his daughter's holo memories.

Just seeing that bit of the final holo of his daughter already has him tearing up, but there's no way in the galaxy he's gonna cry in front of you. He looks away, setting the holoprojector back down on the top of his dresser.

"Go."

You're at a loss for words. Look at what you've done; you've violated his privacy and forced him to relive such an awful memory. All because you wanted to get some dirt on him. It all seems silly and stupid now. "Look, Mills, I'm really--"

Tears are threatening to slip down his cheeks. He needs you to leave before you see him break down.

"Leave!" he snaps again, although his voice is much shakier this time. "Leave me a-alone!"

You swallow harshly, then walk back towards the door. You pause for a moment, looking back at him, seeing how his whole body shakes as he tries to keep his sobs.

"I'm truly sorry."

He says nothing, waiting until the door closes to let out the quiet but violent cries he's been holding in.

*

When dinner rolls around, you sit in the same seat you usually do at the small table. Except there's no sign of Mills anywhere. He's stayed on the bridge with the door shut all day. PZ brings out your meal, then sets Mills's down at his usual spot. 

"Where is the Captain?" PZ asks. "Will he not be joining you for dinner this evening?"

You shrug slightly, looking over at the bridge door. "I don't know, PZ. He hasn't left his pilot's seat all day."

"Well, perhaps I should--"

"No," you interrupt. "You don't wanna irritate him. He's had a rough day. I'll take it to him if he doesn't come out."

PZ nods, then walks back to continue checking on your dresses. You sigh softly and eat alone, occasionally looking over at the door. Nothing.

You really don't wanna take the food in, but you know it's the right thing to do. Plus, it'll give you time to hopefully apologize again for earlier without him yelling or getting too upset.

With a deep breath, you press the 'open' button, and the door whooshes, revealing the tall back of the pilot's chair. Various controls on the panel flash and beep. He reaches over to silence them.

"Yes?"

You step forward. "I have your dinner. I figured you wouldn't wanna come out to eat with me--"

"A correct assumption."

"...so I brought your dinner in here."

He nods. "Thank you."

You set the plate down to the side.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you say sincerely. "It wasn't my place to snoop around your quarters, and I apologize. I also...I didn't know about your daughter. I'm sorry about that, too."

Mills says nothing but turns around in the chair to look at you. After a moment, he nods slightly. "Thank you for apologizing. And I'm sorry that I snapped like that. It's just a hard thing for me to revisit."

"Of course, and I completely understand why you reacted the way you did. I deserved that, but you didn't deserve to have your private life violated like that. I'm sorry, truly. I feel terrible about it."

He's very much surprised by your sudden remorse and show of emotion. You rarely soften like this, and it makes him wonder if he's jumped to conclusions too soon. Maybe you're not always the hard-ass, demanding, a stubborn politician you make yourself out to be. 

"All is forgiven, Senator. I promise it's alright. I appreciate you apologizing."

You nod, offering him a small smile. "Great. I'd hate for us to be on shitty terms for the rest of the journey."

"Agreed," Mills nods. "Thanks for bringing my dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Senator."

"See you tomorrow, Captain."

***

"Wait, wait..." you start, huffing softly. "You're telling me we have to stop on Zexade for fuel? I thought this ship could carry enough fuel for the entire journey. I've never had this problem before."

"There's a first time for everything," Mills replies simply, flicking a few switches on the dashboard. "We had to take an alternate route around a nebula, which took more fuel than anticipated. Zexade should have what we need."

"How long is that gonna take? We cannot be late to this conference, Mills. It's super important that we arrive on time--"

"You'll get there on time, Senator. You insisted we leave two days earlier than we needed to. Do you not remember that?"

Your jaw clenches. "I recall that, yes. But I've been late before, and it was absolutely humiliating. I want to be sure I'm there in advance to begin talking with the other senators."

"The refueling stop shouldn't take more than a few hours. We're on schedule to arrive on Cyllene early." He rolls his eyes. "There's no need to worry about anything. I have it all under--"

A loud crash is heard, and the ship lurches. You stumble, quickly gripping the wall for support.

"Everything's under control, huh?" you ask bitterly. "Then what in the world was that?"

The control panel and the proximity sensor start beeping frantically, and Mills groans. He was worried that something like this would happen. More shots are fired at the ship, and he dodges most of them.

"Get out of here! Strap into a chair or something!"

"What is it? Why are they shooting at the ship--"

Another bold hits the ship and takes a few pieces of paneling off. You nearly fall again.

"Pirates," he says. "They want the ship to salvage and possibly take us hostage for ransom money. Now get into a seat before you get hurt!"

You run back towards the emergency seats, but then you see the hatch for the gunner position. You know at that moment what you need to do. The ship dips again, and you fall into the wall with a soft groan, but you climb into the gunner seat before any more sudden jerks.

Mills' eyebrows furrow when he hears static from a headset hanging on top of a control panel. He lifts it up and puts it on, thinking it could be some sort of communication from the pirates.

"Get me into position," you say, flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly, warming up the guns. "I can take them out."

"What the fuck are you doing down there?! I told you to strap in--"

"Fuck strapping in; I'm not just gonna sit there and wait for you to let the ship be torn apart. These pirates are gonna take us out if we don't put up some sort of defense."

He knows he should focus on the pirates, but he's still trying to wrap his head around that you apparently know how to operate the gunner position. He's also trying to wrap his head around that he's about to take commands from you.

"Alright, alright," he says, adjusting the headset quickly before swerving more shots. "Do you have a shot?"

Your jaw clenches. "Do you think, if I had a shot, I would have told you to get me into position?!"

This is gonna be harder than he thought.

"Can we save the biting wit and snarky remarks for when we're not getting shot at by pirates, please?!"

"Fine," you huff. "I've almost got a shot on one of the ships. Take a sharp left and drop her down a bit."

He does what you say, and you quickly shoot the pirate ship down, which explodes and takes another one out. You smirk, mentally high-fiving yourself. 

"Suck it!" you say into the microphone, forgetting that it's on. "You just got shot down by a fucking senator, losers!! Ha ha!"

Mills listens and allows a slight smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Your mic is still on, Senator. But thank you for that wonderful piece of audio," he says, looking over at the proximity map. There are two more ships left. "I'm gonna pull up really hard and try to get you a clear shot on the two smaller fighters. Can you do that?"

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Y-Yeah, yeah, of course, I can. Just get me into position, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Good." He chuckles softly and suddenly pulls up, accelerating rapidly. 

You keep your hands on the trigger buttons, holding on tightly as the ship climbs almost directly upwards. The pirate fighters are obviously confused but follow, climbing with us. 

“Do a corkscrew maneuver!” You say into the mic. "Now!"

"What?! You want me to do a what?! You're crazy!"

You growl softly. "Trust me, just do it!!"

Mills grips the steering wheel tightly and begins to spin the ship around and around, cursing you in his head as he begins to feel nauseous. Your eyes narrow, and you shoot at the vessels, hitting one, then the other. 

"I got 'em! We're clear!"

He slows, returns the ship to the usual level state, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. Goddamn, that was fucking crazy. You're...incredibly quick on your feet, and you ultimately made the right call. 

Between your genuine apology and this sudden show of badassery, it's almost hard to believe that Mills is starting to actually like you. He'll never admit that part out loud, but it's true.

You emerge from the hatch and walk to the cockpit, releasing shaky breaths. The adrenaline is still flowing as you head towards Mills' chair.

"So..." you start. He turns and looks at you, and you offer him a teasing smile. "How much longer to Zexade?"

-- part two (upcoming) --

general taglist: @mrs-zimmerman​

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◆ wanna join? here’s the link: adcu taglist ◆

[cinnamonest]

But yes I have thoughts about Albedo having a sort of mommy complex... Different from the others, though, not quite an Oedipal thing, but more of a hyper-attachment to a very maternal, affectionate darling. See, he never had a motherly figure. Like yes he had Rhinedottir but... She's described as cold and calloused... it even says in his story "He had always believed wholeheartedly that his teacher would make good on her threat to leave him, should he fail." So basically he was brought up to be afraid of failure most likely, and threatened with abandonment. He's never had a figure that was very motherly in the traditional sense. Like, super sweet, doting, coddling and nurturing, forgiving. So when a darling like that comes along... Soft and sweet girl... Ray of sunshine... He gets attached like glue. He knew Rhinedottir would leave him if he didn't meet expectations... So he's a perfectionist. Has always been very afraid of failure. He can't mess anything up. So it's very very rare that he does. Unfortunately, one of those extremely rare cases happens to be... All over darling. He was distracted by darlings choice of particularly tight clothing that day, accidentally put two wrong things together and whoops... Something of a chemical explosion. Gets all over your clothes, staining them. He's unusually apologetic, it's rare to hear his voice actually non-monotone, actually has a slight panic to it. You're an employee, after all, you can leave at any time, and you certainly will now... But... You... Smile...? Laugh a bit. It's ok. Don't worry about it. Which feels... So foreign. You're not mad? Not disappointed? You're not threatening to quit or leave him behind? Even though he messed up? It's a very new experience. It makes him feel strange. You tell him to be more careful, but before he can apologize, you add, you could have gotten hurt! And that line throws him off. Be more careful... for his own sake? Not yours? He's still silent when you walk off to change, but stands there in a confused daze, staring off into space, unable to understand. And then, you... Care about him? He falls asleep at his desk, slumped over. When he wakes up, there's a blanket over his shoulders, all the papers he was working on have been pushed to the side and stacked in a neat pile so he didn't smudge the ink or drool on them or anything. So strange, he doesn't remember doing that... Unless you did it? It's just the two of you in here, so that means you had to do it. But... Why? Then, a few weeks later, he gets sick. Not that it means anything, his master always taught him that sickness and injury isn't an excuse to stop working, so he's still working on his things as he's sniffling and coughing. And you fret over it. Get in that... Oddly... Maternal sort of fussing, tell him no, no, go lay down, you poor thing. You more or less force him to rest, not only that, but you bring him food for the rest of the day. Tell him not to worry, you'll take care of everything, you'll clean up the work station and get everything resolved for the day. He thinks through it logically and decides you must be worried he'll get other people sick, right? That's why. Nothing else would explain this strange course of actions you've taken. His brain can't understand why you would do all that... just because you want to. Yet, it persists when he's injured. He's used to that too. Glass breaks pretty easily, cuts his hands and fingers, but he just bandages it up and goes back to work as he was taught he's supposed to. You won't have that though. He didn't even take care of it right! It'll get infected, you say, as you force him to sit down, undo the poorly done bandages, get everything you need. Rubbing alcohol, for the infection potential. It'll hurt, you say, here, squeeze my hand. And he does - it does sting like a bitch after all. But the pain isn't really in the forefront of his mind. He's too lost in the strangeness of it all. Isn't this technically wasting time? He could easily work through the pain. He's just silent as your soft hands wrap up his fingers, you're back to that odd fussing where you say things like poor thing and it's ok and to top it off, you pull his hand up to your mouth and kiss his fingers, to make them better faster!, you say. Very strange -- scientifically speaking, the kissing should not have any actual effect, yet somehow it actually does make him feel better... must be some chemical effect he’s unaware of...? But the strangest occurrence of all occurs when he does do well. He's used to people thinking he's smart by now, people always admire him. That alone was a startling change when he first arrived in Mondstadt, he was so used to doing things right being... expected. The bare minimum. Rhinedottir would look at what he made and often just nod in acknowledgement, it was expected, but other people think it's nice... but, he tells himself, what he does isn't really impressive. People just think it is because they've never seen alchemy at work before, that's all. It's not actually good. He always tells himself to get ahold of himself whenever he feels happy with success -- he shouldn't feel happy or proud, no, it's not good enough, he has to push himself more, do better... but you can't help but notice the smile that initially crosses his face at the success, the way his eyes light up before they go dull again as he chastises himself for allowing himself to feel too proud... you're more perceptive than he thinks, you've picked up on how he pushes himself too hard for perfection. So you try to make him feel better... you say you're proud of him. You say it's good. Not just adequate, not the bare minimum... you look actually impressed... it makes him feel proud, and for once he can't get that prideful feeling to go away. It feels like a high, a buzz, it lasts the rest of the day, he keeps remembering that you said you were proud! You said it was good! It repeats over and over in his head like a record. It actually takes a time when Alice comes back to understand it. He's happy to see her again, but as he watches her go about her interactions with her daughter, it strikes him as familiar. Poor Klee never gets hurt by her bombs, but she trips and scrapes her knee, goes crying to her mother... who does something that mirrors what you did. Tells her it's ok, tells her to squeeze her hand if it hurts, she'll take care of it... she has that same baby-talk-ish fussing tone to her voice, calls her poor thing just like you did him... when Klee falls asleep on the floor, Alice just smiles and wraps her up and puts her things away, carries her to bed... and when she accidentally blows something up (again), Alice just runs fingers through her hair and tells her it's ok, she didn't mean to do it right? Just be more careful from now on, she could have gotten hurt -- the exact same thing you told him -- but... she's still proud, her bombs are made so well! He makes the connection. So this is what maternal affection and care feels like? He starts to think it would have been nice to have that, even if he was technically never a "child" in the physical sense, it would have been a nice thing to have in the early stages of his life... Or at any time. Or now. It feels nice... foreign, strange, unfamiliar, but so so nice and warm and comforting. He feels like it's ok if he messes up, if it's you. You forgive him. You always do. And if he gets hurt or sick, you'll help... It feels so nice. It's the only real comfort he's ever known. He feels safe and secure and like he doesn't have to be perfect all the time. But he doesn't like the way that extends to others. You're nice to everyone, he soon finds out. You help everyone when they get hurt. You forgive everyone when they mess up. It makes him feel some cold, twisting feeling in his gut and chest, he finds himself slamming things, clenching his teeth when he hears you talking in that same sweet voice to other people. It's really not fair, when you think about it. He never had that, but most people do, right? Most people have a mother or a mother figure in their lives they can go to, he never had that, that's what you're supposed to be. Everyone else's mother or maternal figure is theirs, not everyone's. Why does his have to be there for everyone? Why not just him? Doesn't he deserve what everyone else gets to have? It's that line of thinking that leads him to isolate you. When he initially sets off to go set up camp in the mountains, he decides you should be the one that comes to work up there, rather than the other assistants. They can stay in Mondstadt... you're too nice to them anyway. As long as you're up here, you won't be able to be nice to anyone else, and all that sweet, maternal affection can be just for him... like it should be.

[tennessoui]

Pleaseeee do 43 or 46. I love your work btw

(insert months late panicked noises about how I thought 45 was 'falling in love with best friend's partner' and so wrote hold me fast for it, but actually 43 is 'falling in love with best friend's partner' very whoops very my b)

so i did 43 again anyway, but in a modern au and where the couple is actually in love (but it is an obikin happy ending because kit did write it)

(wife is unnamed the entire time so no character bashing it could literally be anyone ive been calling her rebecca in my head lmao)

43. Falling In Love With Best Friend's Partner (2.7k.......)

Obi-Wan’s kettle goes off with a whistle right as there’s a fierce banging on the door. He almost drops his favorite mug in surprise, which puts him in a bad mood from the get-go. But for the love of Christ, who would come call at his house at nine at night? It’s more than rude; it’s downright indecent.

He stalks through the house until he can unlock the door to give the person on his porch a piece of his mind, but then he sees who it is.

It’s Anakin, and he’s crying.

If there’s anything that can make Obi-Wan quiet his temper on a normal day, it’s Anakin Skywalker. A distressed Anakin Skywalker brings out every ounce of his compassion.

“Anakin?” He asks immediately, stepping forward to touch the man on his arm gently and guide him inside. He doesn’t even have to suppress a sigh when Anakin doesn’t remember to toe off his shoes in the entry way--that’s how worried he is at Anakin’s tears and the way they only increase in frequency and sound when Obi-Wan moves his hand to his back and pushes him further into his house, all the way to the dining table where he urges him to sit down.

Anakin still hasn’t said anything resembling actual words yet, so Obi-Wan goes to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. It’s either that or give into the temptation to thumb the tear tracks off of his cheeks and that’s a little more revealing than Obi-Wan likes.

He’s not that brave, for one.

For another, Anakin is a married man. A man married to one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends, a previous grad student turned co-author of at least seven publications, with more on the way. He can’t risk tenderly wiping away her husband’s tears because Obi-Wan Kenobi has been at least a little in love with him since they were introduced four years ago, when he’d swanned up to him holding two champagne glasses in one hand and stuck out the other to shake. “My wife talks about you nonstop, Professor,” he’d said. “I used to be so jealous until I sat in on one of your lectures when I was still in school. Made sense then.”

Obi-Wan had not known what to do with that, but had taken the proffered champagne glass and assured this strange man he had nothing to worry about.

After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t the sort of man to chase after former students or people in marriages.

Over the next few years, however, it became quite clear to him that there was a big addendum needed in his moral code: people in marriages to former students drew his eyes apparently the way no one else has ever managed to in his life.

Or perhaps it was just Anakin. Perhaps it’s always been just Anakin.

Coming to terms with the shameful, quiet love he carried for a man who flirts like it’s second nature and always has a warm touch or word to bestow on Obi-Wan had been difficult, to say the least.

Anakin’s wife had been one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends. His inconvenient and persistent feelings for Anakin had turned her into one thing only: his wife. They could not be friends when Obi-Wan spends half his nights wondering what it would be like to sleep with his arms around her husband. They could not be friends when the last dozen times the married couple had invited him over for dinner, he had paid more attention to her husband than to the food or to the other topics of conversation or to her.

And she has to know. She has to know why their latest paper has taken eight months to write. She has to have seen the way Obi-Wan perks up so obviously when Anakin brings his wife her lunch, the way he has to turn away from their chaste kisses, the way he listens keenly to any information she gives him on her husband, the way he had excused himself from the room when he heard her tell another colleague that they were trying for children.

In academia, you learn fairly quickly that it is useless to resent someone for having what you do not. It seems that Obi-Wan has to learn this lesson all over again when it comes to people. It’s hard. It’s selfish. He hates that he loves Anakin. He hates that he loves Anakin the way he does, that it’s been four years and he still loves him, that not even his happy marriage, his love for his wife, the fact that his wife is Obi-Wan’s friend, can change it.

Anakin considers them friends now, which is so much worse and yet still more than a pathetic old man like Obi-Wan deserves. Worse, because when Obi-Wan had started rejecting dinners at the Skywalker household, Anakin had pushed back with worry. When he’d noticed that Obi-Wan’s lunch most often consisted of whatever cold cut sandwich was on sale at the gas station next to campus, he’d started bringing Obi-Wan a lunch along with his wife. When Obi-Wan had stopped responding to his texts, he showed up to drag him to a night out.

Worse, because being Anakin’s friend is nothing like being his husband, and the differences make him ache as much as the acts of kindness make him want to weep.

It’s still more than Obi-Wan deserves. He knows that intimately, the way he knows that nothing can ever happen between the two of them because Anakin loves his wife. And his wife--

“She cheated on me,” Anakin gets out between uneven breaths.

Obi-Wan promptly drops his favorite mug and watches it shatter on the floor.

“Oh!” Anakin exclaims at the loud noise, peeking around the corner, and looking like he’s about to offer to help. Obi-Wan shoos him out of the kitchen, and grabs the remaining mug of tea to follow him. The mess can wait for a later time.

“What did you say?” he asks carefully, nudging the mug over to Anakin, who wraps his hands around it.

Anakin blinks up at him wetly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Obi-Wan drags his chair closer and dares to lay a hand over Anakin’s arm, watching his face for any negative reaction. Anakin just looks at it though, as if he can’t even comprehend it.

“Please, tell me what happened,” he entreats softly.

Anakin blinks and takes a sip of the tea. It’s chamomile, which is the only tea blend Obi-Wan knows Anakin likes.

“I, um.” Anakin clears his throat and reaches up to wipe at his eyes. Obi-Wan thinks his breath leaves his body for a second when he sees the slighter lighter ring of skin around Anakin’s fourth finger. He never thought he’d see what that sliver of skin looks like.

“I came back early from a work trip, cause. Um. Cause we’ve been having problems,” he starts with a quick side glance at Obi-Wan. “Just some fighting. Going to bed angry. I guess stuff you’re never supposed to do.”

Obi-Wan tries to arrange his face in an expression meant to convey that he definitely knows what stuff one is supposed to do in a marriage.

“So I thought I could, you know. Surprise her. But when I got in, there was someone else in the house. In our bed, Obi-Wan, she fucked someone else in our bed. I--” Anakin starts crying dropping his head into his hands and dislodging Obi-Wan’s arm completely.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmurs, at a loss for what to say. He settles for kneeling down next to Anakin and rubbing his knee. This is platonic.This is fine. This isn’t taking advantage of Anakin in this state.

Obi-Wan has absolutely no desire to take advantage of Anakin in this state, not when he’s so hurt and sad and in need of comfort. Obi-Wan just wants to provide him with comfort, but it feels like a grievous violation to touch Anakin like this willingly. It breaks one of his most cardinal rules.

But it turns out he’d break a lot of rules for Anakin, apparently.

Especially when Anakin responds so well to his touch, practically throwing himself out of his own chair and into Obi-Wan’s arms, tea forgotten on the table.

“How am I supposed to go back there?” He sobs into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I thought...we were supposed to raise kids in that house and she...she’s been...she’s been cheating on me in our bed--”

Obi-Wan tentatively strokes through his hair, adding pressure when Anakin reacts positively. He hates seeing him like this, so torn up and aching. He’d loved his wife, it’s so clear to see.

But Anakin has always struck Obi-Wan as the sort of person to put loyalty over everything else. For his wife to break his trust so suddenly and quickly must spell the death of his love for her. That must be what Obi-Wan is witnessing now, with Anakin, sans wedding ring, sobbing into his arms like this. This must be how Anakin’s love dies.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” he murmurs into the man’s temple, pressing his nose there at his hairline and inhaling as softly as he can. He’s disgusted with himself. He can’t help himself. He--

“She said she loved him,” Anakin sniffles, seemingly unaware of anything but his own pain. Obi-Wan gathers him closer at these words and rubs at his back, offering silent comfort. To have Anakin close like this is agony, but to be an appropriate distance away from him as he fell apart would also be agony of a different sort.

And if the last four years have proven anything, Obi-Wan will choose the agony that causes Anakin any modicum of happiness he can give him.

“She said--” here Anakin pauses and takes several deep breaths against the cotton of Obi-Wan’s now damp sleepshirt. “She said she didn’t when they started, but then I--I didn’t notice and it--she said it just happened, but--”

He breaks off and freezes in Obi-Wan’s arms quite suddenly. Obi-Wan stills his own hands in response. “But?” he asks, barely more than an exhale.

“But she said she couldn’t feel sorry about it,” Anakin whispers back, pulling away so that he can look at Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan stares at him, uncomprehending. Anakin’s wife is the unapologetic sort of woman, yes, but to be caught cheating on her husband and then refuse to apologize for the betrayal? That’s something else entirely. “What?” he stutters out in a completely unflattering way.

Anakin’s eyes glisten, but he purses his lips and flexes his jaw before he speaks again. “She said she couldn’t feel sorry about falling in love with someone else because it’s quite clear I’ve done the same thing. And--and she may have physically cheated on me first, but I’ve...I’ve been emotionally unfaithful to her for years now.”

Obi-Wan blinks quite a bit and very fast, tightening his hold on Anakin before pulling away just as quickly. “That’s absurd,” he spits out, trying to calm his rushing heartbeat. “Anakin, you’re the most loyal person I know. You would never--”

“She was right,” Anakin cuts him off, breaking eye contact with him to look over his shoulder and then down at...at his lips. “I didn’t even realize she was right until she said it, but. But I’ve been in love with someone else for three years of my five year marriage. I--I’m not who we thought I was.”

And his eyes well up with tears again and Obi-Wan isn’t strong enough this time from stopping himself from reaching out and brushing one of his tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Anakin, you’re not…” thinking straight, serious, in your right mind, in love with anyone but your wife. “You’re hurting, Anakin,” he settles on saying. “You need to...sleep. To rest.”

You need to stop saying things that will break my heart in a few days when you realize you don’t actually mean them.

But Anakin has always been stubborn, especially when it comes to Obi-Wan’s demands. “Obi-Wan,” he insists, shoving his face forward so that their heads connect with a thump. “Obi-Wan, it’s you. It’s been you. For. For longer than I knew. For three years at least. Maybe longer. It should have been you from the beginning. When--”

“Anakin, please,” he finds himself begging, scrambling up and off the floor and away from this troublesome man. “Do not say anything you cannot take back. You are in distress, you’re not thinking clearly.”

Anakin follows him to his feet. “I need to say this,” he says, voice breaking. “Please, Obi-Wan. Let me say this.”

Obi-Wan has never known how to say no to Anakin. He closes his mouth instead.

“Before we even started dating, that’s when I sat in on your lecture. When we were seniors. I just wanted to see. Wanted to know why she liked you so much, measure up my competition. But then I liked you, more than I’ve ever liked a guy before. And it only got worse after I met you again, at that party, I don’t know if you remember, but. The days after, I drove my wife insane asking questions about you and your work and your interests and your hobbies, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

“You were just...you were so amazing. But I loved her so much I didn’t even notice I had any love left in my heart to give to anyone else, but then there you were. There you were and every time I saw you it was like...coming up for air. Like I was living someone else’s life and then sometimes I just got to be myself and it was only ever when you were around and--I didn’t know it was love until my wife told me tonight that she fucked another man because she couldn’t stand that I fell in love with one first, and I knew immediately who she was talking about. It was you. It’s...Obi-Wan, it’s always been you.”

Anakin closes the distance between them slowly, as if he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to run. Obi-Wan does consider it, he won’t lie, but he stands stock still as if frozen to the ground. Anakin reaches up gently and wipes at one of his tears. Obi-Wan hadn’t even realized he started crying.

“Please don’t cry,” Anakin whispers through his tears. “I understand if you--if you don’t feel the same way, but I couldn’t be quiet about it once I realized. I don’t know how to love quietly.”

Obi-Wan does. Obi-Wan’s spent four years loving Anakin quietly, and now he doesn’t have any words left in him to love him out loud.

Anakin’s hand falls away from his face at his continued silence and he looks, if possible, more heartbroken. “I...I understand,” he murmurs. “You don’t feel the way I do. I--yes. I get it. I...deserve it.”

At this, Obi-Wan has to say something because it’s been one of the tenets of his world for years now that Anakin Skywalker deserves all the love there is in the entire universe. “No,” he says roughly, dragging the words kicking and screaming from the pit of his stomach. “It’s not that. It’s--”

Anakin looks at him with wide, wet, blue eyes.

“It’s that if you...if I say it and then...tomorrow you decide you don’t mean it...darling you have to know there would be no recovering from that, for me. I’ve been so obvious.”

Anakin blinks as the words register in his brain, and Obi-Wan can tell the exact moment they do because he inches closer and clutches tightly onto his shirt. “You’ve not been obvious at all,” he murmurs, eyes still shining, even as he directs his entire attention to his lips.

“What would I need to do?” Obi-Wan breathes, aching to wrap his arms around his waist and terrified that doing so will startle Anakin away from him. “What would I need to do for you to understand how much I...how much I’ve loved you for all these years?”

“Kiss me,” Anakin whispers, leaning down as if drawn by some magnetic pull.

Obi-Wan knows he will hate himself in the morning for giving in when Anakin is so obviously grief-stricken and looking for no-strings-attached physical comfort. And yet, he meets him halfway anyway.

[couldyouspeakmyname]

Hi! 💕 I hope I'm submitting this correctly but I'm assuming you write for the Shishigumi lions? If so, I'd like to request some sfw and nsfw headcanons for them dating a female herbivore and it's totally up to you which members you would like to write for (although Free and Agata are my favourites!)

You know I love the Shishigumi, a lot. So I went overboard. I offer my apologies.

I will say, since I usually put NSFW under cut, but due to length I put it all under cut, I do have a big warning for it as to not surprise y’all

There’s a lot I could write for them, but to keep it reasonable I kept it kinda short! Feel free to request more if you’d like!

I’m also not great at nsfw so I tried my best I hope you like it anyway

SFW

Ibuki (I love him and will never NOT include him in an ask about the Shishigumi)

Ibuki is probably the best one at dating an herbivore. He’s very gentle and conscientious of you as an animal and your limitations 

That being said, he’s top tier respectful. He knows you may not be as physically strong as her is, but that doesn’t mean you’re not strong in your own way. He also likes the idea of protecting you. 

Always walks side by side with you. He’s nervous about holding your hand, but he’d never say it. Do it for him. 

Has eaten meat for YEARS and really struggles with that part of himself. 

Doesn’t kiss you for a really long time, he’s inwardly terrified that he’s going to hurt you. You’d have to make the first move.

Keeps you away from his work. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. 

He knows his world is dark, gritty, and that you shouldn’t be a part of it. He wants to send you away, but can’t. He thinks he’s selfish. You’ll need to reassure him this is what you want. 

Herbivores can’t see in the dark, so he keeps lights on in key areas so you can see better.

Protective. If anyone gives you any trouble he’s quick to correct their behavior, he can be incredibly intimidating when he wants to be

Slouches so you’re around the same height. Give him a back/neck rub at the end of the day. It will make him feel better, and he liked being close to you

The kind of boyfriend that remembers all the major events in your relationships, including small ones. 

Once he gets comfortable, he’s a snuggle bug in private. Cheek kisses, arm around your shoulders when you’re sitting, wrapping his arms around your waist when you’re standing.

Lions can’t purr, but if they COULD oh man, he’d never stop

Free

He’s famous for enjoying females, so the fact that he’s dating someone seriously that’s not a feline is really strange

You should have seen the expression on one of the more flirty female lions when he turned them down. 

Everyone thinks he’s joking about dating you at first, when they see he’s actually serious the teasing dies down, but doesn’t stop (it’s at his expense don’t worry).

“Has hell frozen over? What’s someone like you doing with a guy like Free?”

He honestly doesn’t expect you guys to stay together for very long. He expects it to be a fling. Only it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t get tired of you or eat you....It’s weird but wonderful. 

Has eaten meat for years, and has a hard time letting himself kiss on anywhere but on the cheek. Likes to throw his arm around you and hug you. So he does show affection, but keeps his mouth FAR AWAY from your throat. 

Rests his head on top of yours 

Calls you “Babe” a lot. He has a lot of other nicknames for you to. Some of the lions don’t even know your name, just that you’re dating Free. 

Over. Protective. He knows the market, the animals in it and the animals who come to it. He is very prepared to shoot or maim anyone who tries anything. The fact he’s such a loose canon does help scare people off. Everyone knows who you’re dating and they make sure not to push it. 

He likes to show you off. He’s that guy that carries a picture of you in his wallet. Anyone who asks about him dating someone and he’ll show you off. 

“Sure she’s hot, but have you see the ass on my girlfriend?” 

Likes to show off in front of you. Fights? Yes. Please watch him and root for him.

Tries to get you to get a tattoo, but will NOT get identical ones. He doesn’t want to jinx it. If you wanna have similar tattoos though, that’d be okay. 

Dolph

A relationship with Dolph when you’re an herbivore is really low key. A lot of people don’t know you’re dating. He doesn’t want to put you in jeopardy

He’s pretty serious and it’s hard for him just to relax. He does relax when you’re alone and he knows you’re safe. 

Likes to lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beat 

When you do go out together, you may have to initiate any hand holding.  He plays it off, but he’s secretly happy

He smokes, and you may have to get on him for that if you don’t like it. It’d be very hard for him to quit 

Will let you braid his mane, but wont keep it in if you go out

Supports your endeavors and does whatever he can to help. He may get a little to into it. You’ll say you wanna take a trip and he has everything planned out. It’s a blessing and a curse. 

Likes how small your hands are in his

When he has a hard day, just hold him. He’s heavy and will lean into you, but he just needs the support

Has to relearn how to be himself, and you really help with that. He smiles more when he’s alone with you. 

Has a really deep, gruff, morning voice

Agata

If lions could blush you bet he’d be constantly red. If you actually look close, the insides of his ears usually are

Loves holding your hand and hugs

Respects your boundaries. If Ibuki is the king of respect, Agata is the prince.

He’s still part of a dangerous organization in the black market, so when he’s working he’s all business. Only a few of the members know about you (just the inner circle). 

Agata, like most of the others, is petrified to kiss you. He probably has the worst anxiety out of anyone else. He’s a meat eater, he’s eaten your kind of meat before. What if He accidently hurts you?

Texts you all the time.

The one you can be on the phone with for hours and not know it

Likes it when you run your fingers through his mane

He’s stronger than he looks, so he may just pick you up and carry you every now and again. He just likes to hold you, let him have this

Brings you flowers and your favorite snacks whenever you have a bad day

Stammers when he’s flustered.

Likes to bury his face in your neck

He has a hard time being who he is versus how he thinks he should be. The fact he can goof off and just enjoy life without the strain of being a lion is a blessing. 

Probably says he loves you before you do. He does it when he’s half asleep on your lap. He falls asleep before he realized he said it, whoops.

You’d have to be the one to be aggressive in public. “Excuse me, he asked for no pickles”  meme

Miguel

He’s pretty quiet in his group, so no one knows you’re dating

Miguel is really good at thinking his feelings and thoughts, but isn’t great at voicing them. He does a lot of little things to show affection. He brings you a warm drink on a cold day, has food for you when you wake up, holds you hand

He likes to try and see the best in everything, even if he knows how ugly the world is

His mane is maintained carefully. Once you get really serious, he may ask you to help him with it. It’s pretty intimate, and when you’re done he looks at you like you have stars in your eyes

He’s the force of protection you don’t even know is there. He’s probably saved your life like, eight times, and never let you know that he did

Sabu

If Miguel is quiet, Sabu is dead silent

No one knows anything about his personal life, let alone his dating life

They find out one day when the group is trying to make plans for a fun sort of day, and he turns them down because you two have a date. It becomes a secret mission for the group to find out who you are.

They don’t, Sabu is the oldest member and one of the most clever

A popular headcanon is that his face is really, REALLY messed up. I share that headcanon. The first time you kiss the scars on his face he chokes up

He goes all in. he’s yours as long as you’ll have him. He expects the same respect from you. 

He’s eaten meat for a really long time, but he has more semblance of control being a smidge older than most of the other lions. 

A bit pessimistic 

Kisses you good morning and goodnight. 

Cuddles on the couch. He’ll watch whatever you want to, but he has his preferences

Wears his face covering everywhere, you’ll need to remind him he can relax when you’re alone

. If you get out of somewhere like work or school late at night, he’s waiting for you to take you home. 

So used to wearing a suit and tie, he doesn’t know how to do casual wear very well. He lets you pick most of his stuff out. 

Jinma

He knows a lot about the black market, so he’s over protective from the get go. However, since he does know so much, he knows what connections to make to keep you safe. 

Eats meat, and is self conscious that you’ll judge him for it. Please be nice to him

Kiss his eye with the spot, it makes him feel special

(Personal headcanon) His mane has never grown right, so he keeps it short. He’s kind of self conscious about it. A lions mane means a lot to male lions, he tries to keep it nice but...it’s nothing like some of the other Shishigumi’s manes. Pet it, run your fingers through it. Males don’t complimented enough. It’ll make him feel loved. 

If you ever wanna go anywhere fancy, because of his connections and knowledge, you can basically go anywhere at any time...as long as it’s in the black market, but he may know a guy that knows a guy. If there’s something more legal you need, he checks in with his other gang members to see who knows who

Has a wicked good memory, remembers pretty much everything you’ve said

Dope

A gentleman. He will hold doors open for you, offer his arm and hand when you walk together, brings you flowers. 

He, like all the Shishigumi, eats meat. He is self conscious about it an doesn’t want to scare you away. He will be upfront about it though. He wants honesty. he talks it out with you, and he will try and cut back but being part of the Shishigumi, and a meat addict, means it’s very hard for him to stop. He probably wont, not completely, but he tries not to do it around you. 

He doesn’t brag he’s dating you, but if he’s asked he gets this really peaceful look on his face

If you ever take him shopping at any flea market or outdoor stalls, he will get you the best bargain. He’s also amazing at helping you with any work contracts, apartment contracts and anything else.

Likes it when you brush his mane, and lets you put it up for him before he goes out. He doesn’t let you do anything fancy, but says when you do it it somehow turns out better

Hino

Hino is very attractive. His looks are what brings jobs in, so he keeps the fact that you’re dating a secret for business. 

Gives you extra affection in private because of it. Kisses, hugs, all that. His favorite is to kiss the back of your hand, he is kind of a romantic. 

Don’t get him wrong, he’s still a lion. If he hears that an animal is giving you a hard time, he will take them down and look handsome AF doing it

Eats meat, and like all the other lions worries for your safety. He tends to eat before he sees you, but after a while of you dating he becomes more relaxed. He doesn’t eat in front of you though. 

Spends a ton of time getting ready for the day, you may have to fight him for the bathroom 

Compliments you a lot. He uses the basic one liners at his job with older, lonely, animals. So, he uses unique ones for you. 

“I think the sun is jealous of your smile”

Totally lets your style his mane, and if you’re going out to somewhere not the black market, he’ll keep whatever style you give him. He’s confident and pulls anything off

Calls you Darling

Worst bedhead. 

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

NSFW Manage yourselves safely!

Ibuki 

It was almost impossible to get him in bed with you. He’s so worried and full of anxiety. Any mood you get in, you instantly gets ruined by him being worried he’ll eat you

You’re going to have to plan in advance and spend a lot of time talking about safety and safe words

Honestly? He does try and eat you the first time. Not intentionally and he stops himself, but to be fair to HIM as an herbivore...you almost let him

It kind of ruins the mood and you end up talking it out with him. He’s so ashamed he can’t look at you for a while. 

Once time goes by, and you move pretty slow, but it’s worth it. Sex with Ibuki is amazing

Remember how Ibuki is really diligent about your limitations and you as  an herbivore? Pays OFF when he’s with you

He’s all about foreplay and making sure you are ready and prepared before he does anything. Ibuki has big dick energy. He doesn’t brag but is blessed. But he knows that with you being smaller than him, he’s not down to hurt you with it 

 He starts keeping his nails short for you. The other guys may try and tease him for it, but Ibuki gets defensive over you and so it’s short lived.

His voice drops when he’s in the mood, and he borderline growls. You’ve been teasing him all day, you really should make it up to him

Surprisingly good at dirty talk, it kind of comes naturally to him and neither of you know why

Loves your thighs, and his whiskers tickle. 

He has big hands, and when you’re alone he may saunter up behind you and run them down your sides slowly, kissing your check and down your neck. 

Best at aftercare, no matter how tired he is, he will take care of you 

Free

Is more concerned than he lets on. He tries to pretend he’s all confidence, but he has a pretty hard time getting to the point of actually having sex with you. He actually start actively avoiding it. He blue balls himself. Someone help him.

He’s used to doing what comes natural, and what if what comes natural means hurting you? He’d rather not.

When you do finally try and have sex, he doesn’t kill you...but he does bite you. You need stitches, and he has even more of a complex (tell him he just gave you a cool tattoo or something)

He may actively avoid you or being near you. It’s a set back. He’s not like Ibuki who can talk it out, he’s supposed to be a lion, not a scaredy cat. 

You have to put your foot down. You’re dating a bad ass mafia lion, not some nervous school boy. Remind him about how much you care about him and how much you want him.

The second time goes better, but he’s a LOT more careful. he does maim a few pillows, claws the mattress. Their sacrifice is appreciated. (you two become famous for ruining and destroying beds. The other guys are both impressed and disgusted. Free has no shame)

Trims his claws so he can use them the next time. He’s learning.

This male is a womanizer, but he’s not great at doing things that females would stay for? It’s more of a hit-it-and go. He knows some tricks but...not a lot. 

Tries his best though. Loves to dig his hands in your hips. Leaves bruises. One time he got hammered and asked Ibuki for advice. Ibuki was helpful, but needed therapy afterwards. 

Rough sex 90% of the time (that other 10 is passionate sex that lasts hours, it’s pretty impressive)

Once you guys get comfortable, hope you’re okay with bite marks and kiss marks. You’d have to wear winter clothing 24/7 to hide them all. He’s VERY proud of you being his female, he doesn’t want any other male getting ideas

Turns him on if you take control. Most things you do turns him on. He’s near insatiable. You could roll out of bed, eyes still squinty, mascara from last night all over, and he’s like..man, that’s hot. Hope you’re okay with having sex in weird places, he’s going to ask. 

Not great at aftercare, but BOY can he snuggle. If you’re able to walk afterwards, you wont be able to. Clingy. 

Dolph

Wants it to happen organically, but when it finally does, he catches himself.

He’s looking at you under him, how your eyes sparkle and shine, and how vulnerable you are...And the idea that he could rip out your throat comes to mind and it terrifies him. He practically throws himself off you

You have to reassure him and talk to him. 

Dolph is careful with you the first time, and while he doesn’t bite you, he does dig his claws in a little to much. They may or may not scar. He feels bad, but he’s so in the moment he can’t help it

May drool a little. Don’t tease him until later. 

He doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied. It’s a promise. You will NOT be able to walk the next day. He’s going to make the claw marks up to you if it kills you and wakes everyone in ear shot. 

Out of all of the lions, you’re safest with Dolph. He’s ”the serious one”, which makes him practical and knowing. He actually does research and goes online to inform himself. 

Love bites. He doesn’t break skin, so you’re safe there. 

Loves it when you try and claw him. You can’t do a lot, as an herbivore, but the fact your instincts try and make you...really gets him going. 

Casual at aftercare. Better than average but nothing near Ibuki or Agata.

Not a sex maniac, and with work, it’s not high on his priority list. He’ll make up for it though ;)

Agata

Likes to pretend it’s not something he’s interested in, but he is. He just doesn’t want to pressure you, or scare you. Dating a lion is one thing, being fully exposed is another and he knows it. 

He thinks about it a lot, but doesn’t act on it. You probably will have to take the lead. Agata gets way to in his head.

The sweetest kisser ever, but when he’s heated they’re like fire. Biting your lip, you face carefully with his claws just teetering on the edge of digging in. He loves kissing you, doesn’t matter where. 

Kissing will lead to other things if you don’t stop him, but do you really want to?

Likes to pull you close, and the more heated he gets the more likely he’s going to grind on you without realizing he’s doing it

Totally whines if you stop kissing him. 

Younger than the rest of the Shishigumi, and is more prone to using his instincts. He eats meat and is afraid of hurting you, but his desire to fuck your brains out is far greater than the instinct to eat you

He does end up biting you, and uses his claws. The damage he does isn’t serious, but he still fuses over you when its over. 

Takes a while to let himself near you like that again. He beats himself up. You may have to prove to him you’re tougher than you look. 

When you try again, he makes up for his shortcomings. You’re not sleeping tonight, call in sick to work tomorrow. 

You may have to ask him to slow down. He intends to go all night, you may have to curb his enthusiasm. Don’t forget to take breaks for water so you don’t pass out. 

Wont stop until you’re satisfied. Doesn’t matter how tired he is. 

Sweet nothings in your ear non stop...between the moaning. He’s surprisingly vocal

Talk to him too. Part of the reason he cares so much about you is because you see him for who he is, not his status as a lion. 

Since he doesn’t plan having sex with you, and just lets it happen naturally, he always has things in his room for you. Just in case. Please don’t tease him about it, the other lions do that enough. 

Is totally the kind of guy to help you bathe afterwards if you want.

One of the biggest snugglebugs 

Miguel

Miguel is worried about having sex with you, but no one knows it but him. 

He’s the brawn of the group, and is strong as hell. He may end up trying to show off and you may end up in positions when you have to totally vulnerable (if it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll adjust. Just talk to him)

Muscles for days. The lion is made of stone, but has surprisingly soft touches. He knows his body and knows how to use it

He’s never had sex with an herbivore, he’s thought about it, but having sex with something he may eat later didn’t sit well with him. You are a different story. He’s thought about it a little to much

First time he has sex with you he claws you, and they’re pretty deep. You end up getting stitches. Unlike a lot of the other lions though, he doesn’t avoid you afterwards. He’s there when you get stitches, intimidating the doctor (who has a small heart attack every time Miguel moves)

Apologizes but isn’t afraid to try again. He trims his claws this time, you should really tell him the other things his fingers could be used for outside clawing your back. 

Do not mess with his mane or pull it, he’ll get grumpy. 

Loves your chest and carefully uses his tongue. Doesn’t matter what size they are, he’s a fan. 

Not very vocal, but likes it when you are. 

Sabu

Sabu is older and more controlled, so you’re pretty safe with him. 

He doesn’t seem like he’s interested in it, and since he doesn’t talk much, him bringing it up comes out of no where.

“Wanna have sex?”

Just out of no where. He doesn’t talk much so he doesn’t beat around the bush. You were just scrolling on your phone, and you nearly drop it.

He doesn’t hurt you when you have sex, not even by accident, but the couch you were on gets shredded. It looks like an animal twice his size attacked it. 

Runs his hands over your body, he can’t stop touching you. 

Kiss his scars, it sooths him, and he’ll pay you back

Loves your neck, but is careful not to leave any marks (you have no idea how he doesn’t, it’s like magic)

He doesn’t care if you leave kiss marks on him

No great with aftercare, but will make sure you’re okay and kisses your cheeks and on top of your head

Jinma

Disaster. He doesn’t mean to be, he just is

He wants it to be perfect, but while he knows everything about the black market, he doesn’t know much about having sex with an herbivore. He never really though of it, and now that he is...help him. He knows rumors of herbivore and carnivore relationships that have gone wrong so...he kind of freezes up. That, and he hasn’t been in a lot of long term relationships. 

While the others do their research, Jinma goes way to into it and becomes a bit overwhelmed, but hides it. 

You end up having to take control. For someone who knows the black market like the back of his hand, Jinma is the student and you are the teacher. You’re an herbivore, and you’re going to show him just how much you know (you are the captain now)

He bites you, and he does break the skin, but he just closes his mouth and allows you to decide if you wanna continue or stop

He starts keeping a med kit in his room just in case. 

He gets better, the more he learn and the more serious he is with you. Soon he’s compiling a book of knowledge on you.. He knows where to touch to make your toes curl, what to say, and your weak spots

He takes everything he learns and uses it against you one night. He’s a fast learner. 

 Dope

Part of negotiations is to know what a person wants and what they will go through to get it. So, when you bring it up, the look in your eyes is all it takes for him to know he needs to take you serious. 

Usually his kisses are quick and satisfying, but once he actually starts to seriously kiss you its like it’s the last time he’s going to do it. 

Likes to have you in his lap. Seeing your face is important to him. Every movement and actions of your body paints a picture of what you want. 

Third best at foreplay, what drags him down is he watches you to the point that he forgets what he’s doing

When you first have sex, he ends up clawing your hips and biting your lip to hard. You lip bleeds a little and his nails break the skin.  He’s a little worried, but if you don’t tell him to stop he’ll get permission to keep going. 

Ends up also biting you, but nothing to terrible or life altering. 

He loves watching you, body language tells a person a lot about someone, so no matter where or how, he likes seeing your face. 

Afterwards, he makes sure you’re okay, and comfortable, He does the basics, but doesn’t go overboard 

May leave a kiss mark or two, but it’s accidental. He doesn’t want to embarrass you (even if seeing you with kiss marks makes the animal in him deeply satisfied)

Hino

Hino knows a females body like no other. He’s not exactly promiscuous, but he likes being satisfied

Since dating you, he hasn’t been with any other females, he’s very needy. He’s not as bad as Free, but he’s getting there.

You have no idea how he seduces you every time, one moment you’re making tea, the next, you’re on the kitchen counter 

The first time you try and have sex with him, he claws you way to hard and you end up having to get stitches and fixed up. He feels awful and can’t look you in the eye. He swears he will NEVER do it again

He never does, he keeps to his word

Unlike some of the other lions, the fact he hurt you doesn’t keep him away. He feels bad, but now he’s going to try twice as hard to make sure every time he has sex with you is amazing.

Wont stop until you’re satisfied, and just seems to naturally know your body and what you like.

While he’s composed in public, you get to see a little wild in his eyes when he fucks you. He has this low growl that rumbles through his chest that you feel deep in your body the tighter he holds you

Probably has had sex with you on most surfaces in your home. 

Above average at aftercare. He tries, but having more one night stands than not hasn’t equipped him for great aftercare. He learns though. 

[a-n-conrad]

Coffee Shop (Spencer Reid x Reader)

[Summary: After a new Coffee shop opened up near the FBI headquarters, Spencer found a new favorite place to pick up his coffee on the way to work. And after making friends with the owner of the little shop, he was even more motivated to spend time there. (They/Them pronouns)

Warnings: Not proofread, Maybe swearing (I don’t remember)

Request:From my Request Survey(https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

It took you a few years to save up the money you needed to open your coffee shop. You managed to secure a little shop not too far from the FBI headquarters, meaning a good portion of your customer base was FBI agents. It was kind of nice to not have to worry about your security too much. With the amount of federal agents in your shop at any given time, it’d be stupid to try to rob you. 

One of your favorite customers came in a few weeks after you first opened. He was dressed a bit better than most of your other customers, or at least more creatively. You were getting a little bored with black and white, so his purple tie and button-up was a welcome change, and his hair looked just fluffy enough that you kind of wanted to pat his head.

“I heard a new coffee shop opened nearby, but I wasn’t expecting you to have quite this nice of a collection of classic books,” He motioned to the tall bookshelves that wrapped around your shop.

“Thank you. It took me quite a while to get this many. You’re free to borrow any of them that you’d like, though, just make sure you give me your name and number, so I can keep tabs on my books,” You say, a smile on your face. You always appreciated when people recognized the effort you put into the books, “Is there something I can get you?”

“Oh, uh, just a large salted caramel mocha,” He replied sheepishly.

“For here or to go?” You already knew the answer. You had seen his FBI badge, so you were already reaching for the travel cup. But it was always better to ask than assume.

“To go,” He was still looking at one of the book shelves when he responded, “Is that in french?”

He was pointing to one of your favorite books. It rarely drew much attention, because it was old and worn out, and the attention it did get was normally driven off by the fact that it was, in fact, in french.

“Yes, it is,” You reply, starting to make his drink, “It’s one of the original prints of that book, so it’s a little worn out.”

“I think I’ll borrow it, if you don’t mind. I’ve been looking for a french version of this book for a while,” He said. He walked over for a moment to carefully pull the book from the shelf. Somehow, even with his tall, slightly lanky build, he managed to look graceful and at home among the book shelves.

“Alright, your name and phone number, please?” You set his completed drink down on the counter and pulled out a ledger that you were using to keep track of the people borrowing your books.

“Spencer Reid,” He said, “(702)-555-0103”

- - - - -

Spencer came back the next day to return the book. And just about every day after that. He borrowed books and read through them quicker than you thought was humanly possible. And eventually you stopped keeping track of the books that he was borrowing. You trusted that he’d return them. You had even started to get his order ready before he got there to pick it up, checking that he would actually be there with the number that he gave you when he first checked out a book.

You had started talking regularly, too. Whether it be about books, or coffee, or his work. Though, he did try to keep most of his work to himself. Eventually, you started keeping the shop open late on the nights that he told you he’d be coming home from a case, and he’d stop by. If it was a rough one, you’d make some calming drinks and sit with him for a little while. You knew better than to try to make him talk about the bad cases, but he seemed to appreciate the company. 

You came to know him as a very good friend, and you hoped that he thought of you the same way. Well, sort of. While you’d only ever admit to thinking of him as a friend, you held a bit more affection for the good doctor than you originally expected to. 

He was obviously smart, and a little awkward, but when you got him onto a topic that he liked, he could talk nonstop. While some people may have thought it could get annoying, you admired his passion, and liked to listen to him talk. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him a little cute when he rambled. You were proud to call him your friend.

And when he invited you to come to one of the outings his team was having, that feeling of pride almost overwhelmed you. His team was a big part of his life, and the fact that he wanted to introduce you to them, made your heart melt.

- - - - -

You were nervous when you showed up at the sushi bar that Spencer had told you to meet at. Were you at the right place? Was it the right time? Did you dress alright? You wanted to impress Spencer’s team. You felt the way you felt in highschool, meeting your highschool boyfriend’s family. But that was ridiculous, right? You two were just friends, so you really had nothing to worry about. Plenty of people had friends that didn’t always get along with their other friends.

“Hey, you don’t have to be so nervous,” You nearly jumped at his voice, “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep picking at your nails like that.”

“Oh, uh, hey,” You respond sheepishly. Normally you’d be embarrassed by the awkward response, but you knew that your favorite FBI agent wouldn’t mind all that much, “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous to meet your other friends, Spence.”

“Don’t be,” He responded. His smile was sweet and you felt your face start to heat up just a little. You hoped that he didn’t notice, “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

You nod, and take a deep breath. You were still quite anxious, but you hoped that walking in with Spencer would help you feel a little more confident. Something about standing right next to him as you walked through the door made you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Woah, hey,” You heard a deep voice whoop as Spencer lead you towards a table. You figured that his team must have gone there pretty frequently, “Looks like pretty boy brought a guest. You gonna introduce them to us or what?”

Spencer sighed a bit at the sight of the man that had called out for him. It seemed as though his friends had already ordered a couple of drinks, “(Y/n), this is Derek Morgan,” He motioned to the man, before introducing the rest of the team, “Guys, this is (Y/n). They’re my friend that owns that coffee shop that I told you about.”

“The one that you keep borrowing books from,” The woman that was introduced as Penelope Garcia asked, “They must have quite the collection.”

You spent a little while talking about your shop. And then a little more talking about Spencer. And the longer you talked with his friends, joking and laughing, the surer you were that you were completely head over heels for this man. While they were impressed by his genius, they didn’t seem to admire him in anywhere near the way that you did. And none of them seemed to like his rambling like you. You didn’t just admire his genius or think of him as a really good friend like you sort of hoped. You were genuinely and completely in love with him. And you had a feeling that his friends could tell.

It was on your way back from a trip to the restroom that you had that worry confirmed.

“Oh, come on, Spence, you’re a profiler. Don’t tell me that you really didn’t notice how big of a crush they have on you,” JJ sounded exhausted as she said it. Like she had been trying to explain flirting to him for weeks, and he still just wasn’t getting it. “So what? What if I did notice?” Spencer asked in return. His tone was that of a teenage boy whose parents had been nagging him about his crushes for months. 

“Do you not have feelings for them?” Morgan was the one to ask next, “You go to their shop enough, even when you don’t actually want coffee. And you brought them along here when you’ve never done that with anyone before. It’s alright if you don’t wanna date them, but if I’m getting mixed signals, I’m sure they are too.”

You chose that moment to make your appearance. You really didn’t want to hear that response. You were fine with mixed signals. You were fine not knowing. Because not knowing wasn’t rejection. And you rather not know than be rejected.

“What were you guys talking about,” You ask as you sit back down. You hoped that your acting skills were good enough to fool the profilers around you. Maybe they weren’t paying that much attention to you.

“Nothing super important,” Spencer answered before anyone else did, “I should get going pretty soon. I have to check in on my mom.”

You followed as he stood up, not wanting to be left alone with his friends. Especially knowing that they knew about your crush on their coworker. Not to mention, you had taken a cab there, and really didn’t want to take one back, “Do you mind giving me a ride home? I can grab a cab if you want, but if you don’t mind, I’d love a ride.”

“Oh, sure.”

- - - - -

The ride started out pretty awkward. Just you giving Spencer directions to your house between longs gaps of cold silence. The tenson was thick, and you felt like maybe you were wrong. Maybe not knowing wasn’t better than rejection. Maybe rejection was much better than this.

“How much of the conversation did you actually hear before you walked up,” Spencer eventually asked. You could hear the same tension in his tone that you felt in the pit of your gut.

You weren’t sure how to respond. You knew this conversation was going to bring your pining to an end. You just weren’t quite sure how it would end exactly. But you were pretty sure that it would hurt. 

Spencer was too good for you. He was a successful FBI agent with multiple doctorates. He was charming and handsome and could probably get any partner he wanted. And you were what? A glorified barista with a book collection? 

“Just a little. You really don’t have to worry about it,” You said, trying a last ditch effort to get this to hurt you less. 

“(Y/n),” He sounded like he was scolding you a little, “You know that I know you have feelings for me, don’t you.”

God, why’d he have to say it like that? Why’d he have to say it like he was about to lecture you? You were stuck in this car. You had to sit through this conversation wherever it went. And you were sure that you weren’t going to like it.

“Look, Spence, you don’t have to do this. We really could just not talk about it,” You try again, desperate to at least push the conversation back.

“So you do actually have feelings for me?”

“I-” You really should know better than to deny it. He’d see through you. He always knew when you were lying, “Yes.”

You felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. You couldn’t understand why. You didn’t say anything that he didn’t already know, so there’s no reason for him to feel relieved. Especially if he didn’t feel the same way. Why would he be relieved that he has to reject you?

“This make this a lot less awkward,” He said, pulling the car up to your house, “Would you like to go on a date with me next Friday? After you close up the shop?

You froze. That wasn’t what you expected the response to be, “I-, uh, yes! Of course!”

It was then that he got a little red in the face, his blush matching your own, and he sheepishly asked, “Could I kiss you?”

Your body answered before your brain could, and before you knew it, your lips were on his. 

[A/N: Sorry if this is really bad. I’ve been dying from the writer’s block recently. Please, feel free to take the quiz if you liked it, though.]

[veliseraptor]

Down in the Yi City Pit: A Recs Post

So as anyone following me may have noticed, I’ve been spiraling ever deeper into a pit called Yi City Feelings. I’m down at the bottom and I’m still digging. This also means I’ve been doing a lot of fic reading, and I figure it’s about time that I wrote a recs list, since I said I’d do it and some people expressed interest.

Heads up that I am a dirty Xue Yang stan first and foremost, so this list is going to skew in, uh, that direction. Just so we’re all aware.

Divided these into canonverse recs and modern au recs, since apparently this is the only thing I’ll read modern aus for! It’s a brave new world out here. 

Also like. blanket warnings across the board here for The Inherent Dubiousness of Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen as a Pairing, Generally. I’ll offer more specific/major ones as they’re relevant/I remember, but please check the tags/authors notes as well.

CANONVERSE

lover to your nightmare by Zaatar (@ameliarating) . Xue Yang uses Xiao Xingchen getting sick as an opportunity to fuck around a little. Second person POV sickfic, except XueXiao flavored sickfic which means it’s messy and full of good things like “delirium” and “people taking advantage of other peoples’ confusion and disorientation to mess with them psychologically.” This fic also does the thing I love really well where Xue Yang’s internal monologue/self-justification is full of indications that he’s having Feelings that he neither recognizes nor acknowledges. Crunchy, delicious.

Samsara / 輪迴 by ForgivenMemes. Upsetting fic full of every content warning ever alert! (Off the top of my head: violence, rape, suicide, self-harm.) I keep going back to this fic and rereading it because it hurts so bad and I love it, because it hurts in the best worst self-sabotage recapitulating-mistakes-over-and-over way. Like, I am a sucker for a time loop fic always, and usually I read them as a route to fixing things - but honestly I’ve always loved the part of time loop fics that’s “everything getting worse first.” And this is a whole fic of “everything getting worse.” Aka, the one where Xue Yang has thousands of chances to get it right, but there’s no getting it right.

compromise by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen convinces Song Lan and Xue Yang to kiss. (aka, obviously Yi City AU where Song Lan gets folded into things, Xiao Xingchen still doesn’t know about Xue Yang being Xue Yang, and an uneasy detente where the two of them don’t touch each other gets interrupted by Xiao Xingchen Wanting Things, which is, of course, a priority always). 

til dawn by Sectionladvivi. Xue Yang takes care of Xiao Xingchen’s body after his death, and mind the tags. This is that perfect Yi City level of “horrifying and also very sad, I feel bad for my boy but also he is sort of defiling a corpse (though it is just kissing).” This might not sound like a recommendation but it is absolutely a recommendation.

Our Antebellum Innocence by spockandawe (@spockandawe). First time XueXiao. Xue Yang lays the groundwork for his first time with Xiao Xingchen with meticulous care.  This author always delivers, both in terms of excellent porn and in terms of characterization, and this is no exception. 

life’s illusions I recall by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). The basics of this fic is just “outdoor sex at a river” and it is delicious for that, but what I love about it in particular is this author’s Xue Yang voice. It’s always good (they are the genius behind the incredible Jiang Yanli/Xue Yang fic - no, really), and this is a fic I come back to a lot for that reason. I also love the tag “two characters experiencing two very different fics” which feels like a very apt description for the XueXiao dynamic, generally speaking.

Selenographia by lightningwaltz. A lovely, short-ish fic about the Yi City years. I don’t feel like I have a good description for this one - it’s just one of those beautiful character/moment portrait pieces, very well done.

Stories from A Lonely City by blackwatervial. A series of snapshots/vignettes from the three years in Yi City. Sweetness, bittersweetness, and of course, ultimately, a sad end. This was one of the first Yi City fics I read.

yi city depression hours by glueskin (series). Just. You know. Some feelings. There’s two fics in this one, both short character study type fics making me feel feelings.

a bird caught in this winter blizzard by cherriru. I do love a good grief/mourning fic, especially featuring someone realizing slowly the sheer miserable depths of their fuck-up. Aka, Xue Yang after Xiao Xingchen’s death. It’s just sad. 

all I ever knew of love by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). See what I said above about the Xue Yang voice and this author; this one also featuring blistering hot porn (first time), a little light praise kink, and huddling for warmth as an excuse for sex. It’s a perfect blend of filth and tenderness and I love it.

revelations wallet wood burn art by Sectionladvivi. This one describes itself in the summary as “grim pwp” and yeah, that fits (and also! is such a XueXiao vibe, whoop whoop); it’s based off the simple premise of ‘Xue Yang tells Xiao Xingchen who he is, in the middle of sex.’ Honestly, one of my favorite things about this fic is the ending, which is horrifying in the best possible way.

Your Heart Inside My Hands by williamshooketh (@ectoplasm-james). This fic is fabulously made for me in the specific subgenre of “Xue Yang thinks he knows what he is getting into when having sex with Xiao Xingchen and, it turns out, does not.” This one featuring some of my favorite things including praise kink and Xue Yang getting extremely fucked up by someone being very nice to him.

Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down by spockandawe (@spockandawe). Love me some Xiao Xingchen seducing Xue Yang with candy. First time fic, second person POV, absolutely delightful.

pass the time by short_tandem_repeats (@yiling). A-Qing and Xue Yang bonding hours. I am actually such a sucker for their weird relationship (I don’t poke at it enough in my own stuff, should work on that) and the way they recognize each other in ways that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t, and also a-Qing having to reckon with the ways in which she’s more like Xue Yang than like Xiao Xingchen. Just a very good fic with a delightful a-Qing.

Three Springs by Verbana. Just a really excellent Xiao Xingchen POV of the three years in Yi City and a developing relationship between Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang. Beautifully written, a lovely escalation, and I’m absolutely delighted by the gentle loneliness of the Xiao Xingchen POV here.

Red Azalea by CeNedraRiva (@cenedrariva) (WIP). A longfic in progress following the continuing adventures of the Yi City Crew after Xiao Xingchen survives his suicide attempt and Xue Yang reconsiders some life choices. Recently got tag-updated to SongXueXiao which has me absolutely thrilled. Updates every Wednesday.

ephemeral by im_krying (WIP). Xue Yang, traveling around wearing Xiao Xingchen’s face, decides it is time to go looking for the last remaining part of Xiao Xingchen that he doesn’t already possess. That is to say, the eyes in Song Lan’s head. I’m really curious where this is going - it smells up my alley at this point though it’s been a bit since the last update. 

Heaven Has a Road But No One Walks It by Silvestris (@silvysartfulness) (WIP). Things I love: beating on Xue Yang, SongXueXiao, terrible road trips, fix-its where there’s a lot of suffering involved. Things this fic has: all of the above. I’m in love.

MODERN AU

(There are other recs to this one but for various reasons (pwp reasons) triggered my self-consciousness slightly too much to put on this post. Go check my bookmarks, you’ll find stuff there.

Most of these are PWP to greater or lesser extents (Rewritten and Misalignment are, I’d say, the exceptions); all very hot and fantastically written.)

circling like vultures by brawlite (@brawlite) (series). Truly quality porn, featuring mostly Xue Yang/Song Lan both pining for Xiao Xingchen, which is a thing that it turns out I really like. The sex is rough and mean and I’m really into it. (Okay, mostly the sex in the first one is mean, the second one is actually XueYao, and the third one is actually verging on nice. Wow! Growth. Anyway, it’s all very good and very My Scene.

Rewritten by incendir (series). This series is like. Everything I want from a modern AU and that was true even before the most recent fic gifted me a beat up Xue Yang suffering, so you know. I don’t have a good summary for this series other than that it’s basically a married Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen adopting Xue Yang as a third partner and it’s just. So well done, such good writing, such good characterization, I would read 20,000 more words of this and probably still be hungry.

catalyst by Ajaxthegreat. If there is a porny fic I’ve reread more than this one, I’m not sure what it would be. I’ve reread this one a lot. It’s very good. It’s very hot. I’m trying not to be self-conscious. SongXueXiao first time rough sex and boy is it tasty.

biting the bullet by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t want to have to choose between his two boyfriends and so he doesn’t. Sectionladvivi in general writes some very sexy modern au PWP (including a few different Xue Yang/Lan Wangji fics which...didn’t see that one coming! But it works when they do it), so general rec for author but this one (as, you know, SongXueXiao porn), is one of my favorites, probably. 

sxx configurations by rynleaf (series). This is a SongXueXiao series on AO3 based off of @kevinkevinson‘s modern reincarnation AU and I am in love with both the art for that AU (go look!) and these fics, they’re so good, I’ve reread several times. 

Misalignment by Kasasagi (WIP). The one with a reincarnated Xue Yang and a Xiao Xingchen who arrives in the modern world from the past, fresh off his suicide.

And Once Again, if I’m Allowed to Rec My Own Fic

a kindness you can’t afford. Early days in Yi City after Xue Yang wakes up.

lick your exit wounds. I wanted canonverse-era bottom Xue Yang praise kink, so I wrote it for myself in the hopes others would also find this an interesting prospect.

this place could be beautiful. Xue Yang vs. domestic living.

tear out all your tenderness. Xue Yang gets turned on by murder and makes it a project to get Xiao Xingchen to lose control.

the beauty of your repair. PWP, modern AU SongXueXiao; there’s not an inkling of plot here, it’s really just an excuse to get Xue Yang wrecked, but nicely.

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (7/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 1625

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link I Tiktok Link

Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black’s best friend. Yet he can’t help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er–problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Notes: Next chapter is one of my favorites:)

Enjoy

The full moon creeps up on him quicker than it felt it should. During the week before the awful night, he found himself always nearby (y/n). Part of him thought he'd go mad if a part of his body wasn't touching her at all times. (y/n) had been surprised the first few times he'd acted this way. Regulus had come a bit too close to (y/n) for his liking as they sat in the Great Hall for lunch one of the days. Without thinking, Remus had pulled her a bit closer to his side, his eyes sharp on Regulus, who stared back at him in bewilderment.

"What's his problem?" Regulus had turned to (y/n).

(y/n) had bit her lip, trying to think of a good excuse for Remus's behavior, "Uh-- you know how new relationships are?"

Regulus gave her a look that indicated he clearly didn't believe that lie one bit. "Okay?... anyways, did you get the answer for question three?"

(y/n) had looked at Remus for a beat before turning back to Regulus, showing him her parchment.

Remus the next morning had given her two of his sweaters, "you need to wear these."

"What-- why?" (y/n) had looked down at his sweaters.

"Just do it." He dropped the sweaters in her arms.

"Remus, these won't fit comfortably under my school robes."

Remus pursed his lips, "after classes then."

"Why--? I don't understand what's happening."

Remus sighs, feeling anxious as he usually does around this time of the month, but he doesn't quite understand where the added aggressive edge is coming from. "Just please (y/n). Take the sweaters."

(y/n) looks at him for a beat before nodding, "I guess if it means so much to you…"

When he finds her after classes and sees her wearing his sweater, he preens. It's so good to see her in his clothing, and he likes it more than he'd ever admit. 

"Are you happy?" She asks, her arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. Remus hums in the back of his throat as he nuzzles into her neck.

"Yes, exceptionally happy."

(y/n)' s fingers card through his messy hair, looking rather amused with his behavior, "you're acting rather odd this week, darling."

"I dunno why," he presses a shy kiss to her jaw.

"I don't hate it truthfully, except the part where you got mad at Reggie for being near me. That was weird."

"He was too close," Remus murmurs. If he could, he'd swallow her in his arms to keep her out of view of everyone else. No one should be looking at her but him.

She giggles, "is this some Werewolf thing?" she whispers in his ear.

"I honestly don't know. I've never acted like this before--"

"Oh, so it's me?" her musical laughter tickles his ear.

Remus nods, kissing her neck this time, "maybe it is you. Have you read anything about this--?"

"Not that I can remember. I was mainly focused on the actual transformation when I was reading. Say, what do you do on that night?"

Remus pulls away slightly, "uh-- well…" he looks around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation, "Peter, Sirius, and James spend the night with me out in the Shrieking Shack."

"The Shrieking Shack?" she frowns, "Wait! Are you the ghosts and banshees or whatever else everyone assumes is in there?"

"It's interesting how they've never put two and two together, huh? The noise and the particular timing."

"Oh, Remus. That's where you go?" She's touching his face gently, worry in her eyes.

"It's the safest option. Dumbledore concocted the plan before I got my letter. Don't worry about me. Like I said, I have my friends."

"Well… that can't be safe for them? And… I want to be there for you, as well."

Remus shakes his head, "No. You're staying here in the castle where I know you won't be in danger."

"But Remus--" she starts to argue.

"It's not like I don't trust you, (y/n)." He reaches out his hand to touch her, forearm, "I don't trust myself."

"But I could help!" she counterpoints.

He smiles at his brave girl, "It's dangerous. Sirius, Peter, and James--" he looks around the room. There are too many people around to spill this sort of secret to her. "Come with me."

"What? What's wrong?" she lets him pull her into an empty classroom.

"What I'm about to tell you is incredibly...well, it's illegal. James, Sirius, and Peter could get into big trouble if it got out."

(y/n) frowns, "what--?"

"Just promise me you won't say anything. Nothing I tell you right now can be spoken outside of this room to anyone."

"Remus, what the fuck are you talking about?"

He runs his hand through his hair, "Can you just say you won't say anything."

She taps her foot, impatiently, "yes, yes. Tell me."

"They're Animagi."

Her eyes widened, "what? Are they really--wait, they're unregistered?"

"Of course they are…"

"The four of you…" (y/n) rolls her eyes, "I swear you want to be sent to Azkaban."

He grins, "You don't know how much it helps though, (y/n). Not being alone--"

"Well, I want to be there for you as well--" She grips his hand in her own.

Remus shakes his head, "No. You will not go with them (y/n). You're not an Animagus first of all--"

"Then I'll become one! If Sirius can, there's no way I can't."

"I'm not letting you get involved with their…" he moves his hand around, looking for the right word, "activities. They chose to become Animagi for me. I didn't ask them."

"Well, I'm not asking you," she crosses her arms across her chest.

"I'm asking you do not. I--I think I'm falling in love with you. I don't want you to get in trouble on account of me."

Remus feels his face burn. "You do?" His mouth feels dry as he nods his head, hoping he didn't fuck up-- 

(y/n) smiles, hugging him tightly. Her head rests on his chest, "I think I'm falling in love with you as well, Remus."

Remus hugs her back, feeling like his heart is about to burst. (y/n) leans up to kiss him. 

***

"Are you sure?" She asks for the billionth time.

Remus squeezes her hand, affectionately, "I'll be fine, darling."

She reaches up to cradle his face in her hand, "I hate that I won't know until tomorrow morning…"

He moves to press a kiss to the palm of her hand, "I know, but don't worry."

"Please be as safe as possible. You tell those three I'll kick their ass if something happens--"

Remus grins, "I think Sirius is well aware of that."

"James isn't scared of me yet."

He chuckles, pulling her close to his chest. Her solid warmth in his arms feels lovely. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She doesn't let go; instead, her fingers grip his body tighter, "Be safe."

"Of course," he means to press a kiss to her cheek, but (y/n) seems to have other ideas as she maneuvers herself, so he's kissing her mouth. He sighs against the softness, letting (y/n) do as she pleases.

"Rem, you only have a few hours. We should get going." James interrupts, "Oh, whoops… sorry." James looks away from the embrace.

"Too late" (y/n) laughs, "you've ruined it, Jamie."

Remus chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "good night. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

***

He follows Madam Pomfrey to the Whomping Willow. 

"You have everything you need, Mr. Lupin?" she asks.

"Yes, ma'am," he pats his bag containing his clothing for the morning.

"In you go then, dear." Madam Pomfrey uses the spell she's used ten times a year for seven years now to immobilize the Whomping Willow, allowing Remus to slip into the secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack.

The tunnel starts relatively narrow but expands once it draws closer to his destination. When he was eleven and made this trip for the first time, he had thought the tunnel to be rather interesting. It was old and a bit dusty, only growing older and dustier as the school years passed.

He opens the door to the single room of the Shrieking Shack. Setting his bag down by the side of the musty bed, he sits down. The waiting is one of the worst parts of his transformations. Not only does the boredom cloud his mind, but so does the dread. The dread that after all this waiting, the very worst part begins. 

Most people would assume the dread would be associated with the pain of transforming from man to wolf. Though there is still pain that comes with his transformations on the full moon, he's become somewhat numb to that specific pain. It's more of discomfort at this point, the painful part being his bones shifting. He's never broken every bone in his body at once, but he imagined this felt very much the same.

After an hour of sitting, he feels the familiar tingle that starts at the ends of his fingers and toes. 

Only a few minutes… he glances out the window to see the moon has almost entirely come out of hiding.

He thinks of (y/n) at this moment. Thinks about her expression filled eyes and her sparkling giggles. Thinks of all the times she's kissed him, touched his body... It distracts him from the sudden swell of pain as the transformation begins. He hates to see the physical transformation begin, but tonight he looks down at his hands as they elongate, grow claws, and become the strong paws of a wolf.

His last coherent thought is about her, about how tomorrow will be better because she'll be there. His world goes black.

[itsclydebitches]

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first: 

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense. 

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go. 

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3 

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish. 

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it. 

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit. 

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world. 

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.  

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

[anothertimdrakestan]

Tongue Tied - Tim Drake x Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Hello lovely author, may I please request a Tim x reader who start as nerd friends, then she finds out about him being Red Robin before he can tell her, and then Red Robin saves her one day and she lets slip that she knows it's Tim. With her smarts, she's able to help him with cases and missions, and the batfam is impressed by how smart she is. You can choose whether it's a romantic ending or not, that's up to you. I just feel like smart Tim needs to be seen more. Thanks😊”

LINK TO PROMPTS & MASTERLIST -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

When I tell you I love me a smart reader I LOVE ME A SMART READER! Thank you so much for the wonderful request! Strap in dear anon you set me up for a long one and I really said “get in the car!” I hope you enjoy ; )

In the midst of a mental breakdown you let the flashbacks ensue, that’s the only correct way to lose your mind as everything you thought you knew crumbled around you right?

First you remembered “meeting” Tim Drake-Wayne for the first time. You always put meeting in quotes because you’d been in love with him for months and had sleuthed out his favorite coffee shop just to stumble into him. And because you’re you, nothing can really go as planned can it? Your plan to stumble into Tim was taken more literally when he caught you from tripping as you tried to enter the store, as you pulled yourself from his chest you felt your cheeks redden immediately. 

“Oh my gosh I am such a klutz I’m so sorry” he looked flustered himself, nervously fidgeting with his sweatshirt sleeve. “Oh uh, no problem, are you okay?” he up from his jacket to meet your eyes, and though he’d never tell you his heart melted on the spot, his brother Dick defined it as “love at first sight” but that seemed too cheesy. “I’m fine! You going in here too? This is my favorite spot!” you shook off the nerves, making your way into the cafe. Tim followed you in, and to your surprise paid for your drink. Sitting at a little bar you pulled out some of your college textbooks before you realized Tim and slipped into the seat next to you. 

“You in college?” his voice made you jump, your head jolting up. “Oh - no! I just think this kinda stuff is interesting. Math can predict everything ya know!” you slid your textbook between the two of you, feeling Tim’s shoulder lightly brush yours as he leaned in to read it. “Totally! Like even the golden ratio in nature!” Tim explained excitedly. 

That day turned into texting every single day and hanging out whenever Tim could, and it slowly developed into a best friendship. 

How did you not see the red flags like how Tim could rarely, almost never hangout at night? Or how he’d have strange bruises scattered across his body. Tim always looked dead tired but you knew he didn’t do any activities after school, to be honest the math just didn’t add up, so you took to investigating before making a conclusion - as any good scientist would. And because he’s a messy teenage boy investigation was easy.

While over at the manor Bruce had called Tim to W.E. for some sort of emergency press conference about his younger brother Damian biting a reporter, the interview was only supposed to be a half an hour. So, Tim left you with snacks and Youtube in his room while he threw on a suit and tie, which he looked like an absolute five course meal in - that wasn’t the point. You took the opportunity the riffle through his room, not exactly sure what you were looking for as you pawed through stacks of overdue assignments and dirty clothes. 

With deep breaths you relived the moment that hadn’t stopped playing in your head, finding his Red Robin suit. Throwing open his closet you stifled a laugh at his pajama pants and ratty t-shirts but you choked on air when a deep red and black suit fell from the top of his closet onto your face. Thinking it was some sort of halloween costume you held it up and realized what you were touching. It made sense, the late nights, bruises, frantic cancellations, it all added up except that Tim was the sweetest person you knew, the most loving soul you knew was kicking ass while you struggled through trigonometry. 

Unable to comprehend what was happening you put everything away and went home, shooting Tim some bullshit excuse about your family as your ran up to your room and began making a list - comparing Tim’s absences to Red Robin sightings, googling photos of Red Robin and drawing comparisons to the way he held himself like your best friend. There truly was no denying - Tim Drake was the Red Robin. Then it hit you like a truck - Bruce Wayne was Batman. And you assumed all of Tim’s adoptive family were vigilantes as well. You didn’t sleep that night, trying to make google searches that didn’t give anything away while trying to make a list of everything you discovered. 

Tim was Red Robin. You still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. So you sat in your room at 4am, crying. Because Tim was probably out risking his life for years without you knowing. Everytime you yelled at him for cancelling plans was probably because he was out saving lives and he took all your anger, he let you berate him for scrapping his knees when it was probably the fucking Joker whooping his ass. Is it right to apologize? To tell him what you found out and try to move on with the friendship. Is this like a “now that you know I have to kill you” kinda thing? You weren’t exactly ready to die. 

It seemed like Tim’s secret to keep, it was difficult at first to keep the facade that you didn’t know what he was doing at night, you just tried to always be understanding and appreciative of all the time he made for you. You fell back into the lull of best-friendship, Robin or not, Tim was the best person you knew.

“You’re in love with her Drake” Damian chided, almost annoyed with Tim’s ambivalence on the topic of his life long crush. “Am not, she’s my best friend. It’s not my fault you don’t understand friendships demon” Tim spat back, keeping his head down to hide his blush. “I’m with the demon, you practically worship the ground she walks on” Jason called, drinking straight from.a carton of milk as Dick cried out in disgust before adding his own opinion to the mess that was Tim’s love life. “Sorry kid it’s 3 to 1 which means you have to ask her out for real, remember last time?” Tim glared at the mention of his failed date proposal where you thought he was speaking in strictly hypotheticals. “You can’t out vote me on my own feelings” Tim groaned. “All in favor of allowing us to out vote Tim?” The three raised their hands again as Tim stomped up to his room, he planned on going on a peaceful patrol to plan his dream date for you.

A couple weeks into knowing Tim’s secret you learned that if you climbed to the roof of your apartment building you could see Batman and whomever he took out for patrol flipping around the city late at night. It had become a nightly routine and you’d grown to be able to identify the hero by their style of movement, your notebook filled with notes and sketches about each boy or girl. Then when you hungout with Tim you could match a vigilante’s mannerisms with one of his siblings, it was simple science really. Then you began taking down notes about whoever the Bats were fighting if it was public, discovering little facts and trying to slip Tim subconscious knowledge, it was the least you could do to help your favorite boy on earth. 

But that wasn’t enough, you wanted in on the excitement of crime fighting, to have more knowledge than was on broadcast TV. So you took to the streets of Gotham armed with pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a notepad. You learned tidbits of information that you poured over, working it together until you’d solved a case, then you’d slip hypothetical ideas to Tim throughout the hours of hanging out. You felt like a real life hero, and you were getting better by the day. 

“Jeez Tim it’s like you’ve been working double time! You’re solving cases before they’re even on B’s radar, what’s your secret kid genius?” Dick was stretching on the BatComputer while Tim feverishly typed in his newest solve. “Well I hangout with Y/N! She’s like a good luck charm dude I also get the best ideas when I’m with her! It’s pure magic bro I’m telling you” Tim explained as he frantically finished his report. “Lovers do have that effect! So when are you gonna tell her you’re in loveeeeee” Dick cooed as Tim shook his head. “Shut up Dickwing I’m working” was all he could give Dick without blushing or mixing up his words. He just had to plan something perfect.

But it never was perfect was it? 

Kill Croc was out in the sewer, and you’d taken it upon yourself to help Tim out, you knew people who knew some of the people that helped out Croc and you were determined to find him first at any cost. That’s how you accidentally ended up in a dirty drug deal. 

“Hey Timbers, you’re gonna wanna get to my location asap, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend is in trouble and it would be rude of me not to offer her saving to you” Jason heard a scramble from the other side of the comm as Tim confirmed he was on the way. He watched carefully as you searched for an escape from your capture, normally he would’ve busted the drug dealers for capturing teenagers by now but he was feeling magnanimous, deciding to give Tim the opportunity to save an unsuspecting but terrified Y/N. 

There were definitely no clear exits, you cursed yourself for getting too close. You were not Red Robin, you played the long game you didn’t rush into the arms of armed drug dealers in the name of the law. Your heart was beating out of your chest as they pointed a gun at you, forcing you to walk towards a sketchy delivery truck with the other kids. “Ooh totally not gonna happen!” a familiar voice cheered as glass windows shattered, none other than your best friend stood with a grin. He looked hot as fu- not the time, not the time. 

“Come any closer we’ll blow her brains out!” you felt a loaded pistol connect with the back of your head as you froze, begging to any god to live and promising not to be a field agent ever again. “That’ll be pretty hard without your gun dumbass” Tim called as four batarangs knocked the guns out of all the guy’s hands. Red Hood, who you knew was Jason Todd, burst through the back windows, guns raised. “I thought we had a deal you sorry bitches. Now let these kids go or I’ll show you what blowing brains out really looks like” the men froze, letting everyone escape. 

“Too late for us, but we’re taking the pretty girl with us!” one of the men had picked up their gun, aiming it straight between your eyes and firing. You screeched when a flash of red jumped in front of you. Almost in slomo you watched the bullet connect with Tim’s body. Your scream was deafened by Red Hood’s guns as he knocked all the men completely out. Rushing to Tim’s side you pulling his head into your lap. “Tim! Oh my god Tim are you okay!” you cried as Red Robin pulled off his domino mask to reveal a very confused Tim Drake. “Kevlar, I’m fine, bullets pack a punch but it just knocked the wind out of me, how did you know who I was?” Tim sat up, showing you the bullet sized dent in his suit. 

“We should go somewhere else and I can explain” you smiled sheepishly, letting Tim put his cowl back on as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you to the top of the nearest building. 

“YOU’VE KNOWN FOR MONTHS” Tim looked shocked as you explained how you figured it out and how you’ve been helping him out for weeks. “Should I have told you? I’m really sorry I just didn’t know I felt like you’d tell me when you were ready” you flinched at Tim’s shout and he calmed down. “To be honest I don’t know, you’re one of few that know who I am, but I’m glad you know, makes this even better” Tim added the last part softly, placing his hand on your cheek to lift your lips to his. Your eyes widened in shock before fluttering closed, kissing him back. The build up of months detangled itself in a night, and kissing Tim was just as perfect as you’d imagined all those years ago. 

“So you’ve really been solving all those cases and you didn’t even tell me! You’re totally amazing at it!” Tim added, almost as if he’d been thinking during the kiss. “Yeah it’s pretty fun, you’re still gonna let me help right? I’m not stopping now!” you poked Tim’s chest while he thought. “I mean I’m pretty sure Babs needs a partner, but no ground work, you saw how well that went tonight, but it’ll be good to have a partner who finally knows everything” Tim exhaled, letting everything off his chest. 

“Partners!” you smiled, leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss. 

“This is totally epic” you stood stunned as the BatCave shined in all it’s glory. “I mean yeah it’s pretty cool, look this is my actual suit, I bet the one you saw was an older model!” Tim let you around the cave, showing off his favorite parts. You squeezed his hand trying to convey how excited you were. “I’m gonna be a better detective than you soon Timmy” you teased as Tim showed you the ropes of the BatComputer. “In your dreams babe” he rolled his eyes. “Babe huh? Didn’t realize you asked me out” you scrunched your nose at Tim while he blushed. “Oh uh, see I meant to, but yeah, I definitely should do that like-” you cut him off “yes Tim I’ll be your girlfriend you idiot” you laughed at how tongue tied the loveable boy was. You weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t get flustered around him either - you practically tripped on your own feet the first time you met him, but look how far you’d came from there. 

From friends to partners to lovers and probably everything in between, you were finally Tim’s in every way, working side by side was the best thing to ever happen to both of you. That’s not quite right. Tim Drake himself was just simply the best thing that’s ever happened to you. And you to him. And that’s truly love at it’s finest. 

[sally-mun]

For whatever reason I was just thinking back on my 5th grade camp trip when I was 11, and how in the middle of the week it stopped being this fun, activities-filled, nature-enjoying break from real life. They hit us out of nowhere with this SUPER serious exercise that was meant to make us think about the value of the natural world vs. the expansion of the modern world, and it was designed to not have a clear right or wrong answer.

The way it worked was, we were all sent to the main lodge, and as we entered we were each given a random card with a string to hang around our necks. This card determined our roles in the upcoming roleplay that none of us knew we were about to participate in. Some kids got things like ‘building management,’ ‘gardening service,’ or ‘McDonald’s franchise owner.’ Others got things like ‘old tree,’ ‘flock of birds,’ or ‘timber wolf.’ My card said ‘bus driver.’ They sat us all down assembly-style and brought out a big whiteboard with a blueprint of the campgrounds drawn on it, and one of the main counselors announced that we were going to debate whether or not Clear Lake Camp should be sold to a development firm that wanted to buy it. I know that to your adult ears this is clearly just an exercise, but in 5th grade, a lot of us were still unworldly enough to wonder if the camp really did have a buyer and they were dropping this on us just to see what would happen, so for many of us this was already pretty unsettling.

What I remember most about this roleplay (which probably lasted for like an hour) was how quickly various students in my class flipped to the side of “let’s bulldoze the camp” as soon as a case could be made for how it would benefit them. When the counselor made the initial announcement of why we’d been called to this meeting, there was an immediate discomfort in the room, because we’ve been enjoying this camp all week and don’t want to see such a fun, beautiful place destroyed. But then he started proposing things like, hey, lumber mill owner! You could sure make a lot of money if this plan goes through and we need to cut down all these trees! And you, McDonald’s owner, could build a restaurant in the new development! Soon enough anyone that had an industry-related card around their neck had flipped their opinion on the situation and they were all calling out that they wanted to build on the land, and the counselor started modifying the blueprint to show the new developments.

The kids that had more nature-oriented roles, however, were way more inclined to stick to that original resistance we all initially felt. They pointed out that nature isn’t just a backdrop, and that all these plans to tear down the camp were going to affect living things and that there was value in leaving the camp the way it already is. Kids with roles such as trees and bushes pointed out that they can’t exactly just pack up and move to make room for the businesses to move in, and that they would necessarily die. Some of the students with animal roles pointed out that it’s not that easy for them to ‘just move’ either, because not every animal can survive in a new environment.

More than anything, I remember this moment where I was looking down at the card around my neck and just staring at the words ‘bus driver.’ There was a hot second where I started to think about how the land development could possibly benefit me; surely this new branch of civilization could use a bus stop or two, right? Public transportation could be an important component, and that would help me out. Maybe if the development got big enough I could run a bus station, and make even more money.

I had a moment where I considered speaking up to ask if bus stations could be added to the map so I could get on board, but I kept hesitating to raise my hand. I realized that, even though this is something that could potentially put me in a good position, this still isn’t something I wanted. I didn’t care if I could make money with a bus stop or bus station, I wanted the camp to stay the way it was. I didn’t want the environment bulldozed, I didn’t want the animals forced to leave or die, I didn’t want to knock down the enormous trees, I didn’t want to lose the songs of the crickets or the birds, I didn’t want to give up the clarity of the sky at night. Money wasn’t worth giving that up, and money sure as shit couldn’t buy it back afterward.

So finally I raised my hand, and I went on a mild rant about how it doesn’t matter if we CAN build all this stuff on the campground, the question is whether or not we SHOULD do it. Doing something just because you can isn’t good enough, and money isn’t the only thing everyone should be thinking about. The head counselor pointed out what I’d been thinking about, and how I could run a bus service and make a lot of money, but I said that didn’t matter me. What mattered to me was that we already HAVE gyms, we already HAVE McDonald’s, we already have ALL of these things. We DON’T have another Clear Lake Camp we can go to instead. There’s so much good that exists here and nowhere else, and if we develop the land, then we’re throwing away all of those good, special things just to get more of what we already have.

At the end of the debate period, the counselors had us each vote as to whether or not the camp should be sold and torn down. I felt really strongly that the student body would vote no, because there had been SUCH a strong response after kids spoke up about the reasons against development, including mine. There was so much applause and whoops and cheers when someone spoke in defense of preservation and calling out the greed. But as you’ve probably already guessed, the vote came out in favor of selling and developing. I remember just being so, so dumbstruck about it. I just honestly couldn’t understand how the votes could’ve come out that way. Everyone seemed so supportive of those that needed protection while they were trying to defend themselves, everyone seemed to agree that the greed of business was a bad thing and we needed to set limits. How had all those principles suddenly gone out the window in an instant??

It was an experience that, for a long time, I honestly tried to forget about because I found it so upsetting. In some ways it really affected how I saw my classmates after that, because it really didn’t paint a pretty picture about their morals and values. These days, though, I look back on it and realize that was one of my first glimpses at how disappointing the world can be. It’s amazing to think how that one little exercise so perfectly demonstrated exactly the sorts of obstacles and lack of empathy and greed that I’d be facing for the rest of my life, without me ever knowing it at the time. It was more or less a way to let me down easy, so I wouldn’t be quite so smacked in the face later to realize just how selfish and greedy people would turn out to be in the real world. At that time I did honestly believe that people were at least mostly good, and those that weren’t were a very small minority, and that things would continue to get better over time, even if it had to go slowly. I’m now glad I never succeeded at forgetting about that exercise, because I think it did a better job at preparing me for life than maybe any other lesson I’ve ever learned.

[fanfoolishness]

Hi! I love your mando fics and I’d like to request some fluffy father-son feels Din & Grogu + music, if you have the time or if this inspires anything :)

Thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun with it!  I decided to send Din and Grogu to Batuu, as I figured they’d have some occasions for music, and because I miss Disneyland and Batuu/Galaxy’s Edge quite a lot.  All the little details are from my visits to the park, as well as the Traveler’s Guide to Batuu.  

You also get a bonus doodle because I got this mental picture and it was too cute!  Enjoy the fluff :)

The Outpost (2000 words)

***

Batuu was a strange world.  He’d been here a few times, years back, and the curious petrified spires towering upon the planet’s surface had struck him as unique.  He pointed them out to the kid as they flew closer to the port.  The kid’s eyes widened, taking in the odd sight, and he let out a babble.

“I know.  We’ve been to a lot of deserts, right, kid?  But these are trees, or they used to be.  The locals say they used to be thousands of meters tall.”  He smiled faintly, thinking of the kid standing against the base of one of the spires.  It made for one hell of a mental image.

The docking bay crew of the Black Spire Outpost gave him clearance to land, but he noticed a lot more bright colors throughout the marketplace and the streets than he remembered as they descended.  He did the math in his head.  Huh.  Life Day again already.

He didn’t know what Batuuans did for Life Day, if they were spend it at home with family types or if they were dance in the street types.  He suspected the former -- they were fairly reserved people, as he remembered, if you didn’t count the smugglers and mercs -- but crowds could make it harder to get around, and expose him and the kid to more wandering eyes.  But there were rumors Jedi came through town now and then, here on the edge of the galaxy, and that was what they were looking for.

***

He’d been wrong.  Batuuans weren’t stay at home types for Life Day, it seemed; they were out in force, whooping and hollering, trading their normal drab clothing in blues, grays and browns for reds and violets.  He left the pram in the Crest.  It’d be too easy to lose the kid in this crowd, even with it set to follow him as closely as possible.  

The kid, for his part, seemed fascinated by the crowds, leaning over the edge of Din’s arm to reach out at waving ribbons tied overhead along every path.  Streamers and pennants fluttered in the breeze.  People in bright cloaks and vests bumped off of Din’s shoulders as they passed, and he kept his free hand resting over his blaster in case of thieves.

He traced his way down the old stone streets past the grubby little cantina.  Thumping bass and electric squeals seeping through the walls were loud enough that the kid put his hands over his enormous ears.  “Don’t worry,” Din said to him.  “We aren’t going in.”  He knew an awful lot of people loved that stuff, but Din didn’t understand the point; music was just a distraction, a sometimes painfully loud one at that.

The kid leaned against his chest, slowly lowering his hands as Din walked further from the cantina.  Din kept an eye on the Wookiee bouncer outside as they passed.  Crowds there might be today, but a Mandalorian still was an unusual sight, and he suspected he’d be remembered no matter where he went.

The crowds around them flowed and chattered excitedly, kids in oversize festive hats skipping past, parents laughing and humming snatches of songs, young couples strolling from market stall to market stall holding hands and giggling in their finest clothes.  Even the unsavory element that flourished here looked to be in the spirit; he saw a few skulking Rodians with colorful ornaments jingling on their vests, and people clustered in shadowed alleys played furtive rounds of sabacc while wearing red and gold kerchiefs.  

Din looked down at the kid frequently, checking to make sure he wasn’t overwhelmed by the sounds and sights.  To the contrary, the kid seemed to be getting more and more excited as they walked.  He chirped and cooed and swiveled his long ears this way and that, sometimes grabbing Din’s hand by the thumb and shaking it for emphasis when he saw something interesting.  Din chuckled, holding the child closer.  

“I know, I know.  There’s a lot going on,” he said, leaning down close to the kid so that he could hear him through the crowd noise.  “Want something to eat?”  The kid looked up at him, mouth opening hopefully.  “I guess it was a stupid question.  You’re always hungry.”

He rounded the corner, sidling past a group of children tossing dice to the ground and whooping at the result.  The kid stiffened and stared up ahead at their destination.  Ah.  He’d smelled lunch.

Din made his way up a set of stone steps to the entrance of the market, marked by an enormous slab of ronto slowly being spun over a huge open fire on a spit.  The kid reached both hands out in a clear gimme gimme and Din bent to tell him, “Hold on, you’ll get to try some.  Be patient.”

Din waited until a clear space opened up at the counter, and he sidled up to the shopkeeper, giving him a nod.  Drask Corfin was a decent sort, and he’d given Din tips more than once on bounties and good deals.  Din’s hand went to his hip, pulling out the Batuuan spira he kept around for his rare visits.  

“Bright suns, Drask.  Looking for anything you can tell me about Jedi,” Din said.  “I know they’ve been here before.”

“Bright suns.  Good to see you, Mando,” said Drask.  “Now, that’s new.”  He nodded at the kid, who stared soulfully at a plate of ronto meat before a customer grabbed it away.

“He likes the festivities,” said Din.  He liked Drask fine, but he knew he wasn’t the man’s only customer, and giving out needless details was a dangerous game.  “Any recent Jedi visitors?  Or Mandalorians?”

“You’re still the only Mandalorian I’ve ever seen.  As for the Jedi, I haven’t heard anything for at least a year or two,” said Drask, getting the message and shifting his gaze from the kid.  “They used to come around now and then, looking for some kinda fancy rocks, but since the Empire… afraid I got nothing, Mando.”

Din sighed.  Well, it’d been worth a shot.  He fought down a wave of disappointment; the trip had been for nothing, after all.  “Keep an eye out for me.  If I don’t get any leads, I’ll check back again.”  He handed the man a few spira for his trouble, and a little extra.  “Got some food for me and the womp rat?”

“He’s old enough to eat solids?” Drask asked doubtfully.  “My kids weren’t eating my food until they were practically twice his size.”

“You don’t want to know what I’ve caught him eating.”

“Sure.  Just a sec.”  He returned with two wraps bursting with meat, bundling them into a flimsy bag, and Din gave him the rest of the money. 

He glanced around at the thronging crowds.  “Hey, you got somewhere quiet we can eat?”

Drask jingled the spira in his hand.  “For you, Mando, sure.  There’s a staircase round the back.  You two can take the roof for a little bit if you like.  Might get a good view of the band, too.  They’re due to start soon.”

Din didn’t care about that, but he appreciated the idea of a little relief from the jangling noise and the crush of people.  “Thank you.  Til the Spire, Drask.”

“May your deals go well, Mando.”

***

True to Drask’s word, the roof offered a respite from the hustle and bustle of the streets below.  There was a raised ledge that made for a decent seat, and Din set the kid down on his lap.  He pulled out one of the wraps and handed it to the kid, who looked up at him with wide eyes.  

“Yeah, that’s for you.  Go on, it’s good.”  Then he realized the shape of the food was all wrong for the kid’s little hands and small mouth.  “Hang on, let me just --” He reached down, breaking the wrap and the meat within into a few large pieces instead of one, and set the food down on a napkin spread on the kid’s tiny lap.  His gloves came away sticky with sauce, which he brushed off on his cloak.  “Don’t want you choking.”  Then again, he’d seen the kid slurp down a whole frog, so maybe choking wasn’t something he had to worry about with him.

The kid giggled, stuffing a hunk of ronto into his mouth.  He chewed it for a second before gulping it down, then let out a sneeze.  

Din paused, about to lift his helmet and take a bite of his own food.  “You okay there, buddy?”

Another tiny sneeze, but the kid kept eating, getting sauce all over his hands.  Din took a bite of his own food, enjoying a pleasant burn of spice in the creamy sauce.  Ah.  The kid wasn’t used to anything spicy. 

“Let me know if it’s too spicy for you,” Din said, swallowing his bite.  “We can always find something else if we need to.”  He lowered his helmet and glanced down just in time to see the kid let out a burp that was more like a hiccup than anything else.  He’d finished the whole damn thing.

Din shook his head.  Where did the food go?  Maybe the kid’s powers burned through energy like nothing else.  He ate through his own meal more methodically, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the bite of two different cuts of ronto, the vinegar tang of slaw, the soft chew of the thick wrap and the creamy, spicy sauce.  It’d been a long time since he’d been to Drask’s, and he’d forgotten how good the food was.

He finished up, then cleaned up the kid.  Time to head back to the ship, then.  There wasn’t much point in hanging around since the hoped-for lead hadn’t materialized.  

Before he could get to his feet a loud noise burst through the crowd hubbub below, and he quickly leaned over the edge of the roof from his seat to search for threats.  It took a second for him to recognize it as merely the start of a song.  Down below in the open square was a shabby little stage with a band, the players holding a variety of different instruments.  Around them the Batuuans started dancing and singing, some of them swaying from side to side, others leaping up and down with their hands up.  He guessed this was a popular one, then.

He felt a sudden lightness on his lap.  “Kid?” he asked, looking down.  The kid had slipped down from his lap and landed between his feet, and he stood there, still as a tiny statue except for his ears.  They vibrated slightly, then raised, tilted, focused.  

“What is it, pal?”

The song changed, something bright and peppy with a strong drum beat.  People below began to clap and stomp, the rhythm rolling outward from the band, streaming into the people in the crowd.  And the kid started to dance.

It took Din a moment to realize that was what it was.  It started as a little sway of his head, a gentle bobbing back and forth along with the rhythm.  Then his hands lifted, curled themselves into tiny fists as he waved them.  Finally, he started shuffling his small feet, shifting from side to side, and he let out a stream of giggles.

Din watched him.  The kid’s attention was fixed toward the crowd, mostly, but now and then he would turn his gaze to look up at Din, his ears twitching happily, and Din looked back at him, feeling a satisfaction that had nothing to do with no longer being hungry.

Music wasn’t forbidden to his people by Creed, but his tribe had stayed hidden for so long that music had become an unnecessary risk.  Their secrecy would have been challenged by drums and strings, by voices lifted in song, and so they let it go, as they had let so many things go in their exile.  Din had not missed it.  Music was not forbidden, but neither was it a tenet of the Way.

But watching the kid dance his clumsy, happy dance, the people celebrating down below, the music seeped in.  Din felt drums thrumming in the hollows in his lungs and belly, the whine of vibro-guitar buzzing in his ears, the chirruping of a bright flute weaving in with the warm brassiness of trumpets.  And over all the voices, the clapping, the stomps of a people celebrating, a people joyful.  There was a story here in all these layers of sound, and it washed over him, a force in and of itself.

His foot stirred.  Itched.  Shifted.  It hummed with the urge for movement.  He looked down and saw it tapping of its own volition, keeping time in a steady beat.  

Between his feet the kid danced, waving his small arms, his face tilted up to look at Din’s as he laughed.  Din tapped his foot against the roof as the music swelled, and he thought, perhaps, that the trip had been worth it after all.

[captainseaweedbrains]

Ship: Everlark #48

Thank you so much for sending me a prompt! I hope you enjoy! As always, drabbles don’t exist in my world. So it’s a bit longer than I anticipated. :P 

Prompt: Meeting again at a high school reunion AU

Ao3: X

Send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll write a fic/drabble!

“If you don’t go over there and talk to him, I’m going to and you know I won’t edit out any embarrassing details,” Madge warned when she saw Katniss looking over at the Welcome table yet again. 

Katniss scowled, the alcohol clearly not kicking in yet. “I don’t need your help, Madge.” 

“You’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, Katniss,” her friend pointed out, “watching that table like a scared hawk.” 

“Can a hawk be scared?” Madge glared at her and she conceded. “All right, all right. Yes, I am acting like a scared, made-up hawk, but I can’t help it! I made a total ass of myself back in high school. I’m afraid he’ll remember.” 

“Of course he’ll remember.” 

“You’re no help. Why’d I bring you as my date again?” 

Her friend smiled a winning smile and rubbed her swollen stomach. “Because my dearest husband decided a fishing trip with his brothers was more important than coming with me to our ten year high school reunion and he bribed you with anything you wanted from his store as thanks.”

“Right, right,” she laughed. “So why are you trying to pawn your date off on some stranger, Madge Hawthorne?” 

“Please!” Madge scoffed. “Peeta Mellark is so not a stranger to you. How many times did you two hook up in high school? In the band room, under the stage in the auditorium, the Home Ec room, and correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you two do it in Abernathy’s office?” 

Popping the maraschino cherry from her drink into her mouth, Katniss smiled. “I’m not confirming, nor denying, anything of the sort. We were total saints in high school.” 

“Uh huh.” Madge sighed and readjusted herself in her seat. “If you were total saints, why not go over and talk about your sainthood with Peeta, then?” 

Because she had broken his heart? Because 18-year-old Katniss panicked and ruined a great thing? Because she knew for a fact, thanks to Facebook and small town busybodies, that Peeta had just gotten out of an engagement with some gorgeous blonde who looked like a model and showing up now felt like cutting open an old scar? Because she was scared of telling him how she really felt then? And how those feelings haven’t really gone away and seeing him there, smiling and laughing next to Delly Cartwright as they welcomed old classmates, reminded her those feelings were definitely still there?

“Because he’s busy working the Welcome table,” she said instead. “Don’t you hate when people chit chat you up while you’re trying to work a table?” 

“No, but that’s because I’m not weird about people like you are.” 

“I miss the shy, barely-spoke Madge from high school,” Katniss teased, bumping her foot against Madge’s. “What happened to her?” 

“I joined a sorority in college and had to do three years of recruitment,” was all she said, still giving Katniss a pointed look. “Go talk to him, Katniss. Rip the band aid off.” 

She looked over at the table and frowned. “What if he tells me off? I don’t think I can handle that kind of rejection.” 

“He won’t,” Madge comforted, resting a hand on Katniss’ knee. “But you won’t know until you go over and say hello. Here,” she tore off her name tag and ripped it in half, handing the two pieces over to Katniss. “Ask for a new name tag for me as your excuse to talk to him.” 

She gratefully took the stickers and stood up, glancing over at the table. Two people were in line, the first person animatedly talking to both Peeta and Delly she didn’t recognize from behind. Yes, she can do this. With one long shot of her drink, she went and stood in line, Madge giving a whoop of cheer in support. 

The wait wasn’t long. Five minutes tops before she was walking up to the table, the two pale blondes smiling up at her, reminding her of all those times in high school they’d be managing the ticket table at lunch for Student Council or the ticket booth for football and basketball games. 

“Katniss Everdeen!” Delly welcomed in her high-pitched squeaky voice that hasn’t changed a bit in ten years. “I thought I saw you around! You silly goose, how are you? What have you been up to? How has life been treating you? How is that lovely sister of yours?”

“Delly,” Katniss smiled. Even now, after all these years, it was hard not to reciprocate the woman’s warmth and energy. “Life’s been good, thanks. Can’t complain. Still living at home with my mom and sister. Prim’s fine. Going to school to be a doctor.”

“That’s amazing! And you’re a teacher now, I hear, right?” 

“Um—yes, I am.” Her eyes shifted to Peeta, who was all smiles as well, before focusing back on Delly. “I’m a high school choral director at the high school next town over.” 

“You did always have a beautiful voice,” Peeta stepped in and her legs almost turned to jello at the sound of his familiar yet somewhat deeper voice. “Inspiring students to find their voices.” Ever the wordsman, Peeta Mellark was. 

“Yes,” she blushed, unable to help herself. “Um. That’s a really nice way of saying I spend half my time telling my classes to quiet down so we can get some work done.” They laughed and that helped calm some of her anxiety. “How are you both? I haven’t seen either of you since we all left for college!” 

Delly answered first. “I’m a proud Stay-at-Home-Mom—” 

“Don’t get her started on her triplets or else we’ll be here all night,” Peeta teased, happily accepting Delly’s shove. 

“Wow,” Katniss breathed. “Triplets. That’s—that’s a lot of babies!” 

“That’s what Thom says—you remember Thom, right, Katniss? We all had gym together in eleventh grade. Well, he’s my amazing husband now and he’s always joking how we nailed it out of the park on the first try.” She held out her phone to show a picture of three chubby toddlers, two girls and a boy, smiling cheekily at the camera in nothing but their diapers. “Gretchen, Analise, and Tommy,” Delly explained, pointing to each happy baby. “They just turned three last month and boy, are they keeping me busy!” 

Katniss nodded. “They look adorable, Delly. Look just like you.” 

“Thank you. That’s what everyone says.” She put her phone away. “Anyone in your life, Katniss?” 

“Oh, um. No.” She looked down at the stickers in her hand, realizing she didn’t need it now with Delly talking a mile a minute. “Work keeps me pretty busy and most guys don’t understand why I prioritize a bunch of high schoolers over—well, everything.” She laughed, feeling a bit awkward now talking about her non-existent love life. 

Delly looked over at Peeta, a knowing look in her eyes. “Peeta knows exactly how that is.” 

“Delly,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. “I’m a high school art teacher,” he explained to Katniss. “And I run the school’s debate and speech teams for some extra money. So I get prioritizing your students over everything else.” 

Oh. She didn’t know he was a teacher, too. Well that made a lot of sense why it was a pain hunting him down on Facebook. How had she not put two and two together? “Elective teachers unite,” she joked half-heartedly, feeling nervous again now that the attention was on him. 

“May our program budgets always just barely make the cut,” he joined in, all smiles. She smiled back, unable to help herself. His smiles, familiar despite time away, always made her feel more at ease. 

“You know, ever since I had the triplets, my bladder has never been the same,” Delly abruptly said standing up. “I have to visit the potty. The bathroom,” she corrected herself. “We’re working on potty training right now. Peeta, guard the table while I’m away?” 

“Oh. Uh, sure thing, Dells.” 

“You keep a close eye on him, Katniss. Make sure he doesn’t cause any mischief,” Delly warned with a wag of her finger before walking away, waving to those she knew as she went, which seemed to be everyone.

Katniss stood there for a moment, forlornly watching their buffer leave. She barely knew Delly, but now as the curly-haired blonde left, she felt a bit of a betrayal of being left alone with Peeta. 

“You don’t have to watch over me,” Peeta said, her attention snapping back to him. “Delly was just teasing.” 

“Oh no, it’s okay.” It wasn’t, not really, but admitting that would make things ten times more awkward. “Madge is my supposed date tonight, but she’s been spending more time in the bathroom than with me. So it’s fine. Um.” Just get it over with! “How are you, Peeta?” 

“I’m fine, Katniss. Thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, of course.” Wishing she’d consumed more alcohol before pursuing this quest, she went forth, “I heard you moved back into town. With your brother?” 

He shook his head. “I forgot how small this town is. Yeah. I moved back. Go on and ask.” He motioned at her, rolling his eyes. “About my engagement. Everyone’s been asking about it.” 

Katniss winced. “I didn’t want to pry, but yeah, I heard.” 

“As did many others.” He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m fine, really. I broke it off with her, actually. Wasn’t a right fit,” he explained. “I didn’t think it fair to either of us to continue further, but it still hurts a little.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Peeta.” But was she really, though? Was she seriously happy about a guy she hadn’t spoken to in over ten years being single again? God, she was a horrible person. “But it sounds like you did the mature thing. Breaking it off like that.” 

He shrugged. “That’s what everybody tells me.” 

Someone came up behind her and she stepped aside as Peeta snapped into greetings mode. It was amazing watching him change so swiftly like that. Some people truly never changed, she realized, remembering how quickly he seemed to change moods at the flip of a switch. He did it the day she broke things off with him. How his eyes cascaded down in disappointment and she’d wondered if he might cry after confessing how he felt about her for all this time, but then someone had walked in, calling out to them, and he became all smiles and acted like nothing drastic had happened between them.

It was a bit unsettling, the more she thought about it now. 

The line of late comers started growing and Delly still hadn’t returned. Deciding to keep her promise, Katniss took a seat next to Peeta and smiled as another former classmate stepped up, ignoring the quizzical look he sent her as they were asked questions about times for the planned events and how they both were doing. Many assumed they were married now, remembering how close the two were in high school, and thank god for Peeta stepping in and saving her stumbling tongue, explaining how Katniss was just keeping Delly’s seat warm until she returned and that they hadn’t seen each other until tonight. 

After the third or fourth classmate assumed their matrimonial union, Katniss laughed, picking at the ripped sticker she’d stuck to her skirt for safe keeping. “I didn’t realize so many people remembered us together.” 

“Small town school,” he reminded her, his tone light and joking. Like she didn’t stupidly break his heart. “I’m not surprised they remembered you. You forget how much of an effect you have on people, Katniss.” 

Her cheeks warmed. “I think you mean yourself there, Mr. Popular. I was that awkward band and choir girl with the braces who never shut up about why the Baroque style was far superior to Classical.” 

“I remember those rants fondly,” Peeta laughed. “Your face would get all pinched because I barely knew what you were talking about, so I couldn’t offer any opinion. And I loved those braces! The silver brackets really brought out the silver in your eyes.” 

She rolled her eyes, remembering that line he used to pull every time she complained about her teeth. “Well I’m happy to say those days are gone. I’ve been metal-free since college.” 

“Took that long, huh?” 

“I’m pretty sure my orthodontist was just milking it for my money those last three years,” she laughed. “My teeth looked pretty straight to me.” Katniss smiled widely, showing off her white, straight teeth she suffered many mouth cuts and rubber band snaps to achieve. He joined her and wow. It really did feel like no time had passed between them. Like they were just a couple of teens back in high school, making fun of a teacher or a douchey classmate. 

Peeta looked down at the table, tapping his pen in thought. “You know,” he said after a moment, still looking down, “I am free from this table at 7.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded. “If people haven’t arrived in the first hour and a half, that’s their loss.”

“It is,” he smiled, glancing up at her. Yes, his eyes were still as clear blue as she remembered, and was it possible for eyelashes to grow? His looked longer now. “If you’d be fine with it, Katniss, I’d like to catch up with you some more.” Was it her imagination or did he seem nervous? That made no sense. She broke his heart. If anyone should be nervous, it was her. And she was. The constant flutter in her stomach more noticeable now with her sitting so close to him. 

“Oh. Um.” It was her turn to look down at her hands. “Okay. Sure. Yeah, that’d be great.” 

Peeta seemed uncertain, though. “Are you sure? Was I too forward just now? Sorry, ever since my break-up, I seem to be a bit rusty talking with people.” That was hard to believe. 

“No, no!” Katniss rushed to assure him. “I just—didn’t think you’d really want to catch up after how we ended things.” There. She mentioned it. Old heartbreak was out there now. “I know I messed things up pretty badly.” 

To her surprise, Peeta laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, that is water under the bridge, Katniss. I was stupid and should have picked up on the vibes you were sending me.” 

“And I was stupid, too,” she said, a bit shyly. 

“High schoolers can be pretty stupid.” 

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “Mine seem a lot smarter than when we were that age.” 

“Mine too.” He pretended to think. “Perhaps we were just idiots and it has nothing to do with how young we were.” 

She laughed. “Maybe.” 

He tapped her pen with his. “To being idiots?” 

“To being idiots.” She tapped his pen back. 

And at 7 o’clock sharp, Peeta declared it was time they drank until they got so drunk, it was like they were back at Finnick Odair’s Friday night after-game parties. Katniss happily agreed, sternly reminding him she wasn’t going to make out with him tonight like they used to do in the toolshed during those parties, causing him to burst out laughing. Quickly scrawling out Madge’s name on a new sticker, she told Peeta she’d meet him at the bar. 

“I have to give my date her sticker.” He told her the booze waited for no one and headed to where a group of their classmates were chanting for someone to “Chug! Chug! Chug!” She smiled and went back to Madge, who was chatting with Leevy Anderson, an old friend of hers. 

“Well,” Madge asked after Leevy excused herself. “You were gone an awful long time. Did you get my sticker?” Katniss handed it to her with a smile. “I take it things went well? Or were you just sputtering out nonsense.” 

“It went very well,” Katniss told her, glancing over at the bar where Peeta stood, holding two drinks out, one clearly being hers. “We’re going to get crazy drunk now because this night has been extremely long for both of us. I hope you’re fine driving me?” 

“One of us needs to get crazy drunk tonight,” Madge laughed, patting her stomach. “Drink for me, too?” 

“Of course.” 

“Going to make out with Peeta Mellark like old times?” her friend teased, noticing Peeta now. “I’m sure there’s a closet you two can sneak into.” 

Katniss scoffed at her friend’s blatant assumption. “No, we’re not making out tonight, Madge.” Madge nodded, taking a sip of her pop. “We might next Friday, though,” she added a bit coyly. “He’s taking me out to dinner.” And she walked away before her friend could say anything further.

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Dun dun dun! I started writing it like the day after I finished the last one and I’m already working on the next one. That’s how excited I am here. As always, a huge thank you to @edward-or-ford for being my beta!

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies

Chapter Six: The Reveal

Can you feel it now? I’ve weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out. - Cartel, Only You

There are instances in our lives when we see or hear something so utterly shocking that our brains short-circuit and stop working entirely beyond the basic functions required to keep our bodies alive. Some things simply cause the brain to react in a 404-thought-process-not-found sort of way. That’s just how it is with some things, and it can’t really be avoided.

When confronted with something our brains cannot handle, we have a tendency to think, say, and do, unusual things. Someone might laugh at the shock of seeing a corpse, but that isn’t because they actually find the situation amusing. They are simply so horrified that their brain doesn’t know how to react, and so the person laughs as a coping mechanism.

In that strange, incredible, unimaginable moment, Mabel recalled holding her grandfather’s hand as he murmured nonsensical things on his deathbed. He kept saying that he was going on a trip, but he wasn’t packed or ready, that he couldn’t leave yet. Mabel was only eleven at the time and didn’t really grasp the significance, but she eventually came to understand that her grandfather, though not really there mentally, recognized he was dying and that his brain was trying to help him cope with the impossible.

Mabel was not dying, however, although she thought that perhaps she was already dead (she felt rather weightless, and the scenario she found herself in seemed entirely out of the question for her, so what explanation could there be other than there being an afterlife she didn’t even necessarily believe in? Did people who were in love with their siblings even get a happily ever after(life)? Mabel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to overthink it), so when Dipper pulled his sleeve back over his wrist and pulled it against his stomach, looking away with adorably flushed cheeks, it occurred to Mabel that he probably shouldn’t have been moving in slow motion, but he was. It was like she was falling, and she was in that split second right before you hit the ground where everything moves so slowly it almost seems like time is frozen completely.

She’d been right. He’d been planning on showing her his soulmark. And she was… no, no. That’s not possible. It had never occurred to Mabel that Dipper could be her soulmate and she had therefore never done any research, but how could it be possible that she and Dipper shared a soulmark? She’d never heard of such a thing. As far as she knew, the general consensus on incest was… unfavorable, to put it mildly. Sure, technically speaking, all soulmate couples were legal provided both parties were of age, but she’d simply never considered the possibility that incestuous soulmates would have ever even come up.

The only logical conclusion was, of course, that she had misinterpreted what she saw, and that while Dipper did have a soulmark (and the skin surrounding it wasn’t red and irritated the way it usually was with newly formed soulmarks), it most certainly was not a match with hers, although it was similar enough to be mistaken for hers upon first glance.

No. Of course it wouldn’t have matched Mabel’s soulmark. She was the freak, after all. Dipper was normal, and he had a normal soulmark just like everyone else, and he probably knew who his soulmate was, and he was gonna start dating her and move in with her in one of the government-funded Young Adult Soulmate apartments, and they’d get married right out of high school or maybe even right away, and they’d have their first kid of many right after college, and Mabel would be left trying her hardest to be kind to the soulmate-turned-wife-turned-mother-of-Dipper’s-children and the lucky bitch would get to touch Dipper in a way that Mabel never would and he’d look at her in a way he’d never look at Mabel and Mabel would babysit their children while Dipper and his wife/soulmate (who was decidedly not Mabel) went on dates and came home all lovey-dovey and they’d have sex like all the time because soulmates always had sex all the time and oh god if his soulmate was seventeen already then Dipper would’ve… he already would’ve… oh god oh god oh god no she didn’t wanna picture that, anything but that, no-

There was the sound of a quiet, gasping breath of someone who was very clearly crying, but it wasn’t until Dipper’s head whipped around to look at Mabel with wide, shocked eyes that she realized her cheeks were wet and the sound had come from her own throat.

Dipper blinked at her, surprised, and all Mabel could think of was if the makeup was waterproof or not, thanking of how furious Candy would be if she knew Mabel had ruined her friend’s Sephora eyeliner and mascara by crying, before remembering that yes, it was indeed waterproof, much her relief.

“Uh…” Dipper’s voice was awkward and squeaky and ugh stop being so fucking adorable you fucking asshole. “Why… why are you crying?”

Mabel took another watery breath. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

Dipper stared at her dubiously. “No, I don’t think you are, so please tell me why you’re upset.”

Mabel whimpered and shook her head, wisps of hair flying around her face as she did so.

He ran a hand over his face (which bore a remarkable resemblance to a tomato that had been genetically engineered to make it as red as possible) and tugged on the hair hanging over his forehead.

“Look, I know… I know that I’m not what you wanted, or what you pictured in a soulmate,” Mabel’s eyes shot up from her hands in her lap to his face. What? “But, I mean, would, y’know… would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Mabel couldn’t speak at all. “I mean, I was pretty surprised, too, when I found out, but I was also really, really happy, because there’s no one I’d rather have as my soulmate than you, and I get that the whole twincest thing is pretty gross to most people so it’s fair if you feel that way, too, of course, but even so, I… I…”

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before speaking again, his voice stronger and surer. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I feel like it’s just been building up for years and after we hit seventeen I couldn’t keep holding it in, and I had to tell you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry. Mabel, I…” he looked at her, something intense and crazed and alive swirling in his eyes, and his voice returned to a whisper again. “Fucking hell, Mabes, I burn for you so goddamn badly that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me.” There was a severity to his voice despite the whisper. “I’ll give you the fucking world, I swear, I’ll give you anything you want. So I’m gonna ask again: would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?”

The tears hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t even slowed. He opened his mouth to speak again (it seemed that once Dipper started with the whole revelations thing, he couldn’t really stop), but Mabel cut him off.

“How long?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d finally said something. “Huh?”

“How long have you known?”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

“I’ve had my mark for as long as I can remember, Dipper,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You must’ve had yours for just as long. How long have you known?”

He buried a hand in his hair, blushing to his roots again. “Remember that time when we were Skyping and mom left you alone for a minute and you showed me your soulmark? Yeah....”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was… that was three years ago!” Mabel’s voice was still quiet, but then she exploded. “Do you… do you have any idea, any fucking clue, the slightest goddamn inkling, how much agony I’ve been in? Do you have any idea at all?”

Astonished by his sister’s rage, Dipper shrunk back. “Uhh… no?”

Mabel was fuming. How dare he keep something so important from her? “You… you… you bastard! I have been in love with you for years! Years of guilt and pain and… and misery just because I loved somebody I felt like I shouldn’t, but whoops, guess it turns out it wasn’t even my fucking fault, was it, it’s just that my absolute dickhead of a brother or a soulmate or whatever the fuck you are now, he just decided not to tell me, or he forgot, or some other bullshit!” Her voice was shaking, and she was cursing way more than she normally did. Dipper, for his part, looked properly guilt-stricken. “Anything else, asshat? Anything else you’d like to share with the class?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

She was still crying, but they were angry -furious, really- tears. His face was frozen in shock, however. “You… you’re in love with me?”

Mabel blushed too, and forced herself to stay angry despite the adorably dopey, astonished, thrilled expression on his face. “So what? That’s not the point here,” she snapped.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, still in shock. “Really? Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure, but again: that’s not the point here!”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, he just kept staring at her, an elated expression on his face. “You’re in love with me,” he said again, his dopey smile growing.

“Yes, I’m in love with you, get over it, Dipper!” She actually raised her voice at that point. He certainly wasn’t absorbing her words any other way. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Now then, is there anything else I need to know?”

He blinked, recognition returning to his eyes as if he’d been snapped back into reality. “Well, I guess there are some things you should probably know…”

“Well? She snapped after a few seconds.

“Well, uh… apparently, siblings being soulmates isn’t that uncommon, and usually siblings who are soulmates are actually twins, so it’s not like we’re super unusual or anything.”

“Great to know I’m not a freak of nature. Thanks so much for telling me as soon as I started feeling that way,” she said sarcastically.

“Err… sorry,” he mumbled. “There’s also, well… I mean… I’ve done a lot of research on why soulmates are who they are, so…”

“Uh huh. Go ahead, then,” she said with a wave of her hand, having done minimal research herself.

“Well, you see, it’s determined by…” he murmured the last part so quietly she couldn’t hear him.

“What’s that?”

He told a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “It’s determined by emotional compatibility as well as capability for physical attraction, and physical compatibility, which obviously means, um…” she raised her eyebrows at him. “Which obviously means… y’know. Sexual compatibility.” He coughed uncomfortably. “It’s also determined by who can help the other person have the healthiest kids possible. Even kids that are born from incestuous soulmates are usually healthier than unrelated non-soulmates.”

Sex. Sex with Dipper. Dipper on top of her, underneath her, inside her. Images from dreams and fantasies flashed in Mabel’s mind, but she pushed them away as firmly as she could. She was still pissed at the dickbag, after all.

Oh, but children with Dipper. Their children. Together. Fucking hell, she’d never truly let herself consider that long enough to want it, but once she thought about it, she wanted it so badly she thought she might start crying again.

No! Shoving those thoughts from her mind, too, Mabel scowled at him.

“Anything else?”

He sighed. “Well… our parents have known our whole lives.”

“What?”

He nodded. “Why d’you think they kept us apart, or fed us that allergy bullshit? We’re not allergic to each other, they just didn’t want us touching ‘cause we’re soulmates.”

“And I assume you’ve known that for years, too?”

He nodded again.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, staring out the window briefly. She needed to escape. She needed to escape him or she’d throttle him. Undoing her seatbelt with shaking hands as more tears threatened to fall, Mabel unlocked the car door and threw it open.

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?” Dipper questioned as she stood up, heels digging into the cold, wet grass.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she told him flatly before shutting the door behind her and walking off.

To her horror, she heard the driver’s side door open behind her, sneakers touch the ground, and the close of the car door.

“Mabel!” He called out, and she could tell he was jogging over to her. Dammit. Just as she was about to get to the edge of the clearing and escape into the woods, too. “Mabel, wait,” he’d reached her side. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he told her, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“For one thing, you took off your coat earlier and you didn’t put it back on and it’s way too cold for you to be walking around in jeans and a shirt, no matter how…” he shuddered, his eyes raking over her. “No matter how incredibly attractive you may look.”

Squashing down her joy at the compliment, she kept eyes on her feet. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Tears caught on her eyelashes as she blinked. She felt so conflicted. She was so angry with him, but she wanted nothing more than to nestle herself into his arms. She wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to whisper her adoration in his ear. She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to kiss him. She was thrilled beyond all measure at the prospect of being his soulmate, but she was also terrified beyond belief. She’d never been so conflicted in her life.

“Mabel,” he said her name quietly, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like she was the answer to every question that had ever been asked in the history of the world. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I was scared of what our parents would do, but more than anything, I was so, so petrified you wouldn’t want me.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, tears still flowing freely as she kicked at the grass. “We’re soulmates. I have no choice but to want you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh? We want each other no matter what.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she snapped.

“I can’t help it. I love you, and I’m just… I’m so fucking happy you love me back.”

“Idiot,” she said again.

“Yup, that’s me. I’m an idiot,” he agreed, still very clearly grinning like he’d won the goddamn lottery. Raising her gaze to his to glare viciously at him, she found herself startled by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was, and- no, no, still mad, remember?

Noticing she’d been crying again, she supposed, he took a step towards her, hand outstretched. “Mabel, I really am sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

She backed up faster than a Smart Car trying to get away from an eighteen wheeler. “N-no!” She stuttered out. “Don’t touch me!”

If he got any closer, she didn’t think she’d have been able to stop herself from whacking him.

He stopped, hurt clear in his eyes, and lowered his hand. “It’d make you feel better if I held you,” he told her softly.

“I don’t care,” she snapped again.

“I do, though. You’re angry and hurt and I caused it. Please let me fix it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hit you if you come near me,” she warned.

“That’s okay. Hit me if it’ll help,” he took another step, this one slow, as if she were a wounded animal he’d found in the wild and was afraid he’d scare away.

All of a sudden, the fear that had been pushed out of her mind in place of her anger came rushing back. He’d never touched her before, and she was petrified.

He stepped closer to her, and time seemed to slow down again. When he finally reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she felt as if the universe would collapse in on itself.

She couldn’t hold her sobs in, so she didn’t, and she couldn’t really seem to keep her fists from pounding against his chest, either. He was so warm, and he was being so goddamn sweet, and in that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being.

He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just letting her hit him. Not that it was particularly hard, of course; it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest. She looked up at his stupid, idiotic face to tell off his stupid, idiotic ass again, just for good measure, and when she did, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb.

It was the first time his skin had touched hers in as far back as either of them could recall.

And then, suddenly, she remembered something about soulmates who hadn’t, y’know… consummated things yet: skin-to-skin contact flipped what was essentially an aphrodisiac switch that had a tendency to make both parties lose a fair amount of self-control.

It was probably an evolutionary mechanism meant to encourage reproduction as quickly as possible. In all actuality, though, it was just a pain in the ass.

Mabel subconsciously pressed her body against Dipper’s. The arm that was still around her held her tighter, his hand traveling into her hair.

“When’d you get so tall?” She wondered as she looked up at him. Her burning anger had given way to a different kind of burning altogether.

He shrugged. “Kinda happened… gradually, I guess?”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, playing with the fabric of his coat and staring at her fingers.

“Mabel?” His voice was soft, and she looked back up at him questioningly. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Images flashed through her mind with lightning speed again. “Yes,” she whispered.

With a slowness that was downright agonizing, Dipper placed his hand on Mabel’s cheek (to hold himself steady as much as her, but don’t tell either of them that), leaned down, and gently, ever so gently, pressed his lips to hers.

[tizzymcwizzy]

Home Is Where The Heart Is - Chap 2

Ladynoir July Day 11 - Comfort

i guess i did die before then, huh SORRY THIS IS LATE AAAAAAAHHH this was waaayyy longer than I expected, whoops,, anyway, we've reached our conclusion!! I tried proof reading it as best I could but it's like 1 am, and i also didnt do the art prompt for today but whattheever, school ends Wednesday, ill be fine, this makes me emotional and its probably bad but i hope you enjoy!

@ladynoirjuly2020

Chap 1   Chap 2 - Here

Ao3 Link

“I,” Chat took a deep trembling breath as a small sad smile formed on his face. “Okay,” he grasped Ladybug’s hand on his cheek and held it tight. “Okay.”

She smiled softly and took his hands in hers, leading him to follow her across the rooftops. 

The buildings around them became familiar as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop, and he'd be lying if he said his heart wasn't going a mile a minute in anticipation. His breath got caught in his throat as she landed on a particular balcony lit up in soft golden light. He landed behind her as she stood faced away from him, fiddling with her hands.

Chat felt his chest swell and he put a hand over his mouth, glancing around at the familiar balcony. There’s no way, no way...

"Tikki," she said with a small voice, cutting through the silence, "detransform me." 

He glanced up at her to see her suit fade away in red and white sparkles, revealing a simple pink t-shirt and sweatpants. Marinette turned slowly, looking down at the floor. Tikki hovered next to her head and glanced between them with a huge grin on her face. She waved at Chat and flew behind them into some plants.

Chat couldn't breathe. But it was a different kind of speechless than his sadness, this time, he had a million things he wanted to say, but no words reached his mouth.

"Surprise?" She laughed awkwardly and looked up at him from underneath her lashes, then, she was taken aback by his expression. 

He was grinning ear to ear, holding back tears, trying to take in a deep breath.

Worry covered her face and her hands flew up to reach out to him. "Chaton, are you-" she started, but was cut off by his bear hug.

"It's you," he breathed, holding her tight in his arms, freely sobbing again, but with tears of joy. "It's always been you." 

She wrapped her arms around him instantly and laughed into his hair, holding him tight. "It's me," she sighed. 

His heart swelled as he took her in, of course, it was her, of course, it was always her, who else could it have been? The two most treasured people in his life, the two he'd tried to sort out his feelings over, for almost a year, it was her, Marinette, Ladybug. The one who had carried him and held him in his lowest and the one who had jeered with him and laughed with him at his highest. The one who had snorted over stupid jokes and had cackled at bad movies with him. The one who tripped and dumped paint on both of them and helped him study for a history test. It was her.

Chat pulled back to hold her face and gaze into her eyes, smiling like a little kid. He shook his head in disbelief and laughed breathlessly, rubbing away stray tears. Was any of this real? How was he this lucky, there was no way he was this lucky. Was he? 

Marinette slipped her arms up and around his neck, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek lightly. He gasped, staring at her as she chuckled to herself. "Your face is so pink," she giggled, poking his nose.

"I- you-" he sputtered. How dare she look so cute while teasing him. Adrien tried to think of something to say in response but he only gaped at her as she continued to giggle at him. He settled on sighing heavily and smiling at her.

"Are you feeling better?" She asked, brushing his bangs back with a light hand.

"Yes, definitely," he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. A million times better.

"That's good," she said softly, closing her eyes. They swayed together, holding each other and just breathing.

"Marinette," he whispered. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Should I, um, y'know," he reached for the words.

"Detransform?" She offered.

"Yes, that," He sighed.

"If you want to, though it's probably best if you do, I'm not sure what my parents would say if I told them I was dating Chat Noir." She cringed, looking away nervously.

"Da-dating?" He stumbled. Oh, his face was very very warm.

Her cheeks turned rosy as she looked away from him. "W-well yeah, I, I mean. If- if you're cool with it, y'know, I, I wouldn't, y'know," she glanced back at him and let her head fall on his chest in exasperation. "You know what I mean," she groaned. 

"I do?" He asked, glancing down at her.

"I can hear your stupid smile you dumb tomcat," she replied. Chat laughed and lifted up her chin to see the very intimidating pout on her face.

"I know," he whispered, smiling at her. Chat closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you ready, cause I'm not sure I'm ready." 

"I'm ready," she giggled, cupping his cheek again. 

"Okay. Plagg, detransform me." The first thing he felt was the cool breeze of the night air cover him. Then, he heard a distinct gasp, and the absence of warmth as Marinette let go of him and took a step back. Adrien opened his eyes slowly, to see Marinette standing in front of him, hands cupped over her mouth, eyes wider than the moon staring at him wordlessly. "Marinette?" He asked, feeling his stomach plummet. Oh no. This was not a good sign. The worried smile fell from his face as he stared at her. "Are you-" 

Adrien fell backward into the railing of the balcony with the force of her hug. "Adrien!?" She cried. Burying her head into his neck. He blinked for a second and wrapped his arms around her as she pulled back, cupping his cheeks and staring into his eyes. "I, oh my God, I am going to fucking kick your dad's ass." 

Adrien blinked and then promptly burst into laughter, doubling over and trying to catch his breath. 

"Don't laugh at me! I'm going to do it!" She cried as angry as a puppy could get.

He stared up at her and wiped tears from his eyes. "I'm sure you will," he laughed and shook his head. Marinette pouted at him and then started laughing along with him. Adrien reached up and curled a lock of hair over her ear. She sighed and rested her chin on his chest, making a funny face at him. 

“I’ll leave you two be,” Plagg jutted in, making a fake vomiting sound before Tikki dragged him away with a quiet scolding.

The two of them giggled at the sight and watched the kwamis go before turning back to each other.

"I can't believe it's you," she said.

"Can't believe I'm a superhero and a fashion model?" He joked, raising his eyebrows.

"That I can believe, your face is too handsome for your own good," she snarked, squishing his blushing cheeks. 

"You think my face is handsome?" He tried not to sound as surprised as he did.

"You kidding? Your face is like, completely symmetrical, you've got big, pretty eyes, and a tiny, cute nose, and these baby cheeks," she laughed at his increasing redness. "Maybe you're more cute than handsome," she mused, squishing his cheeks again.

"I'll take what I can get," he laughed. Adrien hadn't felt this good in a while. Just to stand here, with her in his arms, laughing at each other, he felt like he was on cloud nine. If his cheeks weren't already sore from the sobbing they were now sore from smiling.

“I really can’t believe it,” She sighed breathlessly. “The two boys I love the most in the world turn out to be the same person?” She shook her head and laughed lightly. Adrien, however, was frozen in place.

“Love?” He whispered. What was- was she, was she serious?

She smiled even wider. “Yeah,” Marinette sighed. “I fell in love with you that day you gave me your umbrella.” He remembered that day. That day something blossomed in his chest that he tried to ignore for the longest while. “And then again, sometime later. I can’t put a date to it cause it was slow, but, your silly, cute, cat-face found its way into my heart somehow. No matter how much I tried to deny it.” She shook her head and smiled. “Maybe Chat noir was always there.” Marinette laughed softly, and in the glow of the night, he knew she couldn’t look more wonderful.

“You know when I fell for you, right?” He started softly, cupping her cheek in his hand. “That day you saved Paris and a million different times after that.” She rolled her eyes fondly. “I knew, I know I love you, but I never seemed to know why this shy girl in my class always caught my eye.” Her eyes grew wide and her mouth clamped shut. “I guess I know now,” he laughed. Marinette’s face was very red and she was doing a poor job of hiding it.

“You’re so stupid,” she groaned and rested her head back on his chest.

“But you looove me,” he beamed at her and choked back laughter. But even through the joke, his heart soared.

“I do,” she whined and looked up at him, trying to hold back a smile. Adrien brushed her bangs aside and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She squeaked, which made him burst into laughter.

“Shut up!” She cried, laughing herself and hitting his arm playfully. He only laughed harder, doubling over and stumbling back onto the lawn chair behind him. Marinette folded her arms and pouted at him.

He stared up at her, grinning like an idiot. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cuter!” She whined, throwing her arms up in the air. Adrien burst out laughing again, hugging his sides. Marinette laughed with him, collapsing into the chair beside him. He took a deep breath and sighed, looking at her fondly. And she made a funny face that melted into a mirrored smile. He grasped her hands in his, pulling them up to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“I think you’re the cutest.” Adrien grinned at her again.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I think you’re wrong, but I won’t fight you in something I know I’ll win.” Marinette closed her eyes and put a hand to her chest.

“Oh, confident are we?” Adrien raised his brows at her.

“Yes, very.” Marinette hooked their arms together and rested her head on his shoulder with a thump.

Adrien brushed a lock of her hair back and the whole world seemed to melt away around them. He didn’t think he’d forget what happened earlier today, maybe he never would, but with her in his arms, he felt like he would be okay, somehow. And that was good.

"Should we go inside?" Marinette asked, shifting her head to look at him.

"Uuh," She knocked him out of his thoughts. How long had he just been staring at her? "Oh, yeah, you gotta tell your parents..." he trailed off. A small prickle started in his gut. What if they-

"I know what you're thinking, Adrien," she frowned. "They may be opposed to you sleeping in my room, but they won't turn you away. If anything, they would probably force me to sleep in the guest bedroom since my mattress is more comfortable." She closed her eyes and put a hand to her heart.

He tried to ignore the notion of sleeping in her room as best he could. "Are you sure?" He asked in a small voice. Adrien knew Marinette's parents, but he saw how Tom could get when his daughter's feelings were in tow. 

"Absolutely, they'll love you, if they haven’t fallen for you already," she giggled, poking his nose again. "Come on, they'll be weirded out if you come out to my bedroom, so you can come through the front door with me." Marinette pulled him up and toward the opposite end of the balcony to a ladder reaching down the side of the building.

"Has that always been here?" Adrien asked, watching her take the first climb down.

"Yeah, I mean, it would be suspicious if Ladybug always left the same building, right?" She slid down the rest of the way and gestured for him to follow. He'd admit he'd never thought about that. Adrien followed her around to the front door of the house and into the dimly lit foyer.

 "Maman? Papa?" Marinette called into the bakery. He heard some shuffling and music coming from inside.

"Marinette?" It was Sabine's voice. Even with Marinette's reassurances, the pit in his stomach only grew. He felt like crawling into a dark hole."Dear, what are you doing coming in through the front?" He heard a light set of footsteps as Marinette’s mother made her way to the door.

"I, um," Marinette looked at him and back through to the bakery. Sabine walked in folding a towel in her hands and stopped dead when she saw him.

"Adrien?" She looked at him, even though she was confused he couldn't sense any malice in her tone. "Marinette, what are you two doing here?" 

"I, I have to talk to you and Papa. It's," Marinette glanced at him again, strength in her eyes, and grabbed his hand in hers. "It's important."

Sabine blinked for a moment and then nodded. "Oh, okay, well, we've got to finish up some things in the store, but go upstairs and make yourself at home, I'll go tell Tom." She smiled at them and gestured that they go upstairs. 

"Thanks, Maman!" Marinette called as she pulled him up the steps. 

"Tha- thank you, Mrs. Cheng!" Adrien stuttered and followed her up.

She smiled and waved at them until they reached the front door out of sight. 

Marinette took a deep breath and opened the door, glancing back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" She ushered Adrien into the house and closed the door behind them. "Okay, do you want anything to drink?"

"Huh?" Adrien turned to her as she opened the fridge. 

"We have maybe 10 minutes to get our stories straight so they aren't suspicious. I was thinking that we go with, we both snuck out, ran into each other, talked about it, and then essentially the same thing happened where I invited you over." She explained this while wrestling with the lid to a carton of orange juice. "Or," she snapped it open with a pop and poured it into a glass, "we could do something else if you have another idea." She turned back to him and pulled out another cup from the cabinet.

Adrien stood and watched her, not really moving from where he'd stood when they walked in. He felt, out of place.

"Want anything?" She asked again.

"I, um…" he blinked at her. Trying to get his head to think straight.

"We have tea, cocoa, orange juice," she pointed to the carton behind her, "milk, some other Chinese fruit juice thing my mom got," as she explained she pulled out a green bottle with Mandarin on it. "This tastes good, I forget what the fruit is called, but it's really sweet." Marinette smiled at him. 

Adrien, well, Adrien was completely dumbfounded. Dumbfounded by normalcy with which she treated him, the ease with which she spoke, and just, well, her. Her, standing in her kitchen with a t-shirt and sweatpants, asking him if he wanted to drink a glass of juice. "I, I can try the Aloe juice." He recognized the characters on the bottle. 

"Okay, here," she poured the cup and handed it to him. "It's got some health benefits or something, I'm not too sure." She put both juices back in the fridge and bumped the door closed with her hip. 

"Thanks," Adrien said in a small voice, taking a sip of the drink. It was sweet.

Marinette drank the orange juice and walked over to the couch, pulling him by the hand to sit across from her. "Okay," she started, placing the cup down. "So, do you think we should go with my idea, or do you have one," she asked.

"I, I think it's fine. I'm just worried that your parents will be mad if you snuck out." He stared at his reflection in the cup of green juice.

"Oh Adrien," she reached out rested a hand on his arm, making him look up at her. "Don't worry about that, they'll probably take my phone away for the next week but it's nothing I can't handle. What's important is that we keep our identities safe. And that you're here and happy." She gave him another soft smile. Adrien put this hand over hers and smiled back. 

Some footsteps came from the stairs. Marinette jumped up and glanced between him and the door. "We'll go with my plan for the sake of time, alright?" 

Adrien blinked and nodded, then grabbed her hand before she left for the door. "Good luck." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. She smiled and squeezed it back, then left to the door. Adrien watched on as Marinette explained animatedly, but in a hushed voice, what had happened. He glanced back at his hands to avoid eye contact whenever either of her parents would glance over at him. Their faces turned from confused, to horrified to the same angry determination that Adrien had seen on Marinette’s face earlier that night. At least he knew it ran in the family. 

“Of course,” he heard Sabine say. “Adrien,” she called for him.

Adrien looked up from his hands and stood on wobbly knees. “Y-yes, Mrs. Cheng?” The pit in his stomach felt like a raging storm. He wanted to run.

“Please, dear, call me Sabine,” she laughed and waved him over to their circle. Marinette gave him a reassuring grin. “So, Marinette explained to us the gist of what happened,”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable,” Tom assured, putting a large hand on his shoulder.

“And we would be more than happy to let you stay with us.” Sabine rubbed his arm gently. Her smile was filled with such warmth. And suddenly, all the tension in his gut was washed away. It evaporated almost as quickly as this new feeling replaced it. Warmth.

“For as long as you are comfortable, or feel like.” Tom nodded. Even though Adrien couldn’t see the man’s mouth behind the mustache, he could tell he was smiling. Adrien felt his throat tighten. He tried to swallow it down.

“Of course, we would probably have to get in touch with, what was the lady’s name?” She turned to Marinette.

“Nathalie,” Marinette replied. She glanced between him and Sabine, fiddling with her hands.

“Right, but, feel free to stay here, as we said. We can focus on all of that stuff tomorrow.” Sabine waved her hand over her shoulder. “Does that sound good, Adrien?” she asked.

“I-” Adrien started, getting the words caught in his throat. He choked out a breathe. “Sorry,” he mumbled trying to get a handle of himself. But, it seemed all his willpower for holding it in was gone, so he just cried into his hands.

Sabine glanced quickly to her husband and back to Adrien. “Dear, don’t be sorry,” Sabine rubbed circles into his back. “Come here,” She opened her arms to him and gave him a tender smile. Adrien stumbled into the hug slowly as she patted his back. And even with her small size, she engulfed him in the hug.

“I’m, I’m sorry,” he mumbled through tears. What was he sorry for? For everything? His body shuddered in a hiccup. It was surprising that he was able to cry at all after the tears he’d shed earlier.

“It’s okay, son, you’re okay,” Tom said and bear-hugged the both of them, giving them a gentle squeeze. Adrien felt himself melt.

After a moment, Adrien felt one of the arms around him leave his shoulder. He rubbed the tears from his eyes to see Tom beckoning to Marinette, who was standing, holding a hand to her mouth, smiling and wiping stray tears from her eyes as well. She ran up to them and wrapped her arms around Adrien, holding him close. He held her with desperate hands, sobbing into her shoulder again. Waves of emotion came over him, and he felt so free to just cry, and so he did. He just let it all out. The pain in his chest was there, but for a different reason than before. Instead of hate, and sadness, it was warm. And full of, well, full of love. 

“Tha-thank you,” He cried. “Thank you.”

---

Bonus:

The only light in the room came from the moon through the window and the screen of his phone. 12:29 AM. How was he going to get through the night? Adrien’s body felt exhausted, but he couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe he was afraid of this being all a dream and getting thrown right back where he started. No, that’s a stupid thought. Adrien turned his phone off and placed it on the bedside table. He sighed and rolled over to see Plagg, snoring away on his pillow. He wasn’t alone. Especially now. 

Adrien pulled the shirt he was wearing over his nose and smelled the fruity-bakery sent he’d come to know as Marinette’s brand of shampoo, which was mixed into his hair, and the sent of the bakery, which lay underneath him. The t-shirt was something that Tom bought, accidentally shrunk in the wash, and gave to Marinette, who used it as a sleepshirt occasionally.

He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. It wasn’t quieter or noisier than his own room, but it still was very different. Adrien couldn’t even imagine being in his own bed.

He was barely asleep when he heard light footsteps creak down and around the living room. Adrien turned over to see if he could see who it was through the opened door. A head with messy hair peeked through. His eyes widened. Marinette put a finger to her lips and came to sit next to the bed wordlessly. Her hair stuck up in a funny way, but the moonlight reflected off her face perfectly. She smiled at him silently and put out her hand, resting it on the blanket in front of him. He took it slowly and held it, her fingers where warm. Marinette gave it a squeeze and then turned to look out the window.

It was a small, silent moment, but it assured him, that he was truly home.

;3 are you crying? im sad lmao, anyway, i did art for these, feel free to check it out!! I like drawing sad emotions so this was fun,,

Thank you for reading and liking and commenting, I read every comment even if I don't reply, THANK YOU!!! Y'all make me go doki doki

[alj4890]

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 9

(Bryce Lahela x F!MC*Chris Valentine) in a Choices Open Heart one shot.

A/N Bryce’s plans don’t seem to be going like he wanted for Christmas with Chris. 

12 Days of Ficmas writers and readers list

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Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Christmas Without You by Ava Max

Going Home

December 19th...

Bryce finished stacking his luggage by the door. He looked around at all the Christmas decorations he had talked Chris into buying with a touch of bitter irony.

This was supposed to be their Christmas.

Leave it to his family to find a way to mess up yet another part of his life.

"You forgot to pack this." Chris walked in with a small box wrapped in green paper. The red ribbon on top had been hastily tied into a lopsided bow.

He chuckled while pointing it out. "Sloppy stitch work Dr. Valentine."

"This is why I don't operate." She slipped her arms around his waist. "I leave that up to you."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. "I really don't want to go."

She hugged him tight. "I know."

He set the gift on top of his bags, while keeping her in his arms. "I wish you were able to come with me."

"Me too." She murmured.

He pressed his forehead against hers, for once unable to think of something humorous to say to break the tension.

If his little sister had not called two weeks ago with an outrageous request, he would be able to stay in Boston and enjoy Christmas for once. He could follow through with all the plans he had made with the very reason he had gotten excited again for the holiday.

His Chris.

He knew how lucky he was. The love of his life had survived being poisoned six months ago and he had been given another chance to show her just how much she meant to him.

And Bryce had held nothing back.

All the special dates he made after her recovery had led to a proposal on Thanksgiving Day.

Sienna had nearly choked on a piece of turkey she had popped in her mouth when he dropped down on a knee in front of all their friends.

Chris had said yes, making that a day Bryce knew would always hold a special sort of thankfulness in his heart.

Plans were made for Christmas and New Year's Eve that night. Schedules were studied while the couple began to think of ways to balance everything.

Which was why Keiki's phone call had been unexpected. Like her older brother, she had decided that she needed space from their parents. She had not been in any rush to return home to Hawaii and was happily settled in the bordering school Bryce had found for her.

He and Chris visited her often and she in turn came for the occasional weekend here and there.

Bryce had been floored when she asked him to go with her back to Hawaii for Christmas.

**************

Two weeks ago...

"You want me to do what?!" He asked, ignoring the stares from other doctors sitting in the lounge.

"Mom and Dad have been calling me for a few weeks now." Keiki explained. "They really want us to try and be a family again."

"No." He didn't bother to hide his bitterness. "I have nothing to say to them."

"Please Bryce." She pleaded. "I--after running away...I can't face them on my own."

Bryce ran a hand through his hair, gripping a handful in frustration. "Keiki, I haven't seen them in ten years. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is going to be for all of us if I'm there?"

"But they want to try." She said again. "Couldn't you try too?"

"I probably can't get time off." Bryce clutched on to that excuse. "I'm still a--"

"I asked Chris to check before I called." Keiki admitted.

"You did what?" He demanded. "Why would you--"

"Because I thought you wouldn't bother checking until the last minute then say you weren't able to take off work." She grumbled.

Bryce blinked in surprise. His little sister knew him too well.

"Anyway," Keiki huffed, "since it is kinda a family emergency, they are giving you a week off. The nineteenth until the twenty-sixth."

Bryce dropped his head back. Seeing no way out of this, he groaned into the phone.

"Please do it for me." Her voice had softened, worried he might not go.

Unable to resist when she dropped her typical teenage attitude, he promised to pick her up on the nineteenth from school.

Keiki whooped and began to say thank you over and over again. "You're the best!"

"Remember that when you buy me a present." He added before telling her he needed to go.

Bryce decided to find his helpful fiancée and thank her for this.

After searching the diagnostic floor with little success, he found Chris in the cafeteria.

She was reading a medical journal while picking at a salad.

She jumped when he swooped in from behind and kissed her cheek. Her delight at seeing him disappeared when he sat down without a word or smile across from her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, reaching for his hand. "Did something happen with Mr. Wallace's bladder cystectomy?"

"No, that went well." He laced his fingers with hers. His eyes dropped down to the princess cut diamond engagement ring he had given her, sparkling under the florescent lights. "Keiki called."

"Oh?" Chris pretended a new interest in her salad. "How is she?"

"Thrilled that someone I know and love happened to do the impossible and got a third year surgical resident off for Christmas."

Her cheeks colored. "I wonder who could do such a miracle?"

"Chris." He sighed her name. "You know I have no desire to see my parents."

"Yeah, but after you talked to your mom about Keiki's bordering school--"

"That was brief compared to spending a week with them." Bryce countered, slouching in his seat. "At least you'll be there as a buffer."

The woman he adored began to squirm in her chair.

"Oh no, no no." He gripped her hand. "Come on, Chris! You're not making me do this alone?"

"I wasn't able to take off. Dr. Ramsey always goes to his Dad's place for Christmas. Since June left, it's just me and Baz working the diagnostic department." Chris pushed her tray to the side. "I'll be working Christmas Eve so that Baz can be with Zaid and their parents. Apparently there is some kind of twin holiday tradition they have involving Santa and his elves."

Bryce softly cursed under his breath. "I'm not spending Christmas away from you. This is our first one as a couple." He reminded her. "I'll tell Keiki she has to face Mom and Dad on her own."

"No!" Chris reached for his other hand. "I love that you want to spend it with me as much as I do with you, but your sister needs you right now." She then shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I'll be working and sleeping the holiday away."

She swallowed against that lie, knowing all her own holiday plans she had dreamed of with him were destroyed. Having Christmas Day off would be incredibly lonely. Their friends were either working a different shift or finding a way home to see their loved ones. Her own parents were leaving for their yearly trip to Switzerland in a few days.

She would be completely alone this holiday season.

"I really don't want to do this without you." Bryce tugged her out of her chair and into his lap.

Ignoring her frantic whispers that there were people around, he cupped her cheek and kissed her.

"I don't want you to either." She whispered, giving in to the need to kiss him once more. "I'll be just a phone call away."

"Not good enough." He grumbled before giving her a half-hearted smile. "But it seems I have no choice since the two bossy women in my life are guilt tripping me." He squeezed her close before letting her get up. "I'll see you this evening after your rounds."

Chris smiled warmly at him. "Can't wait."

***************

December 19th...

"Cheer up!" Chris shook him a little. "You'll be in Hawaii. Warm, sandy beaches--"

"That would be more inviting if you were there." His lips curved into a suggestive smile. "I'm picturing all kinds of bikinis--" he jumped when she swatted his backside.

She cleared her throat to continue. "As I was saying. You'll get to surf. See old friends--"

"Enemies. Exes. People who hope every Lahela dies some horrific death." He muttered.

"Why would you be seeing exes?!" Chris jerked back, eyes narrowing on his face. "Is there something I should know about, Lahela?"

He snorted in his laughter. "Nothing at all. I was only trying to think of the worst things I could see on this trip."

"Better be the worst." She grumbled, allowing him to once again pull her close. "Or else you will encounter a fiancée colder than the winters here in Boston."

He shook with laughter as he kissed her again. "I love you so much, Chris."

She gently caressed his cheek, giving that somewhat special, secretive smile she had just for him. "I love you too."

He checked the time and reluctantly let her go. "I better get going before Keiki calls again." He gathered up his bags, insisting Chris remain inside where it was warm. "I won't be able to leave if I see you standing out there alone."

She bit back her tears. "Be careful and call me when you get a chance."

"I will." He slung the last piece of luggage over his shoulder. "I want you to actually rest and sleep on your days off. None of that study fest you try and sneak in."

"I promise." She reached over and pulled his coat closed for him.

Bryce ducked down and stole one last tender kiss before slipping out the door. He flashed that same charming smile that still made her feel butterflies. "Later, Valentine."

Chris knew she couldn't say goodbye back without choking up. She merely waved with a smile, eyes blurring with the tears that were threatening to spill over.

She closed the door, pressed her head against it, and finally allowed herself to cry.

*****************

Later that night...

"I'm here." Bryce stepped out on the balcony of his old bedroom. "We just finished dinner."

"How did it go?" Chris asked, readjusting her phone as she finished doing the dishes.

"Great. Just great." He replied. "We said hello. Awkward pauses. Questions about school. Awkward pauses. The hospital. Even longer pauses with avoiding eye contact. Then Kiki decided to break the tension by telling them about our engagement. Blah, blah, blah. They want to meet you. Hope I actually invite them to the wedding--"

"Of course we will invite them!" Chris dropped the pan she was scrubbing. "You told them that, right?"

Bryce hesitated. "No. I indicated that we were still up in the air on the guest list."

"BRYCE!" Chris shouted. "Get in there and tell them that I want them at our wedding! They're your parents!"

"See, this is why I needed you to come." He snapped. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to talk to them. I have nothing in common with these people!"

"They're YOUR parents!" She snapped back. "Get over this crap and try and develop some type of relationship with them. Do it for yourself, Kiki, me, and any children we might one day have!"

A couple of beats of silence went by.

"Children, huh?" Bryce teased.

"Well, yeah." Chris mumbled. "One of you in the world is clearly not enough for me."

He couldn't stop the goofy smile forming at that. "I know the world needs more of you, Valentine."

Bryce loved hearing her stutter at his compliment.

"Anyway," she said in a softer tone, "Try and find a way to be around your family."

"I guess I do owe it to all the little Lahela's we will have." He leaned against the railing. "We're having six, right?"

"Six? Why not eight?." Chris joked, calling his bluff.

"How about two?" He countered as he quickly did the math for putting eight people through college.

"It's a deal." She checked the time and sighed. "I need to head to the hospital."

"Okay." He told her again that he loved her before ending the call. Taking one last glance at the ocean, he walked inside to speak to his parents.

**************

A couple of days went by with everyone in the Lahela household walking on egg shells. Each person seemed to keep the conversation impersonal. Generalizations were made on the weather, possible activities were suggested, and uncomfortable silences were falling at alarming rates.

The only time Bryce felt a little like his normal self was when he was either talking to Chris or alone with Keiki.

One morning, it all came to an end.

After taking his little sister out for a sunrise surf, Keiki had suggested they surprise their parents with breakfast.

"We can make it ourselves!"

"I hope you mean bowls of cereal." He teased. "Because even those are pretty much a hit and miss for me."

Keiki rolled her eyes. "You're a surgeon! Surely between the two of us we can come up with something."

"I'm not cooking while in the operating room." He added. "Edenbrook frowns on that."

She elbowed him in the ribs.

"And I'm out." He snickered at annoying her. "I can't handle a skillet with bruised ribs." He dodged her next attack. "Much less crack an egg."

Keiki chased him into the Lahela mansion, threatening to crack an egg over his big head. Their laughter caused their parents to look up from their morning coffee.

"Good morning." Their mother called out.

The two stopped in their tracks.

"Morning." Keiki greeted.

She and Bryce stood in the foyer, making sure they weren't tracking sand in.

"Did you have a good time?" Their father asked.

"Yeah." Bryce rubbed the back of his neck. "Smooth waves all morning."

His mother chuckled fondly. "There were so many mornings when you were little that I couldn't find you. Your father kept me from freaking out by showing me your favorite surfing spot."

"I suggested getting a houseboat to live in so we could see you more often." Their father teased. "But your mom had this weird fixation that home meant one on land."

Keiki glanced back and forth between her parents and brother. This was the first time anyone mentioned something from the past.

Bryce hated that he felt that familiar tug to his heart when it came to childhood memories. He had a good life for the most part. His parents might have committed crimes, but they had treated him well in their own way.

They had always been busy, flittering to one event or planning one to show off the Lahela fortune. But in between those moments, they had tried to be parents. They weren't perfect, especially when compared to stories his friends shared about holidays with family and such.

But maybe, maybe they weren't that horrible.

"Keiki and I were going to try our hand at making breakfast for all of us." He found himself saying. "We'll try not to burn the house down."

Tears came to his mother's eyes. With a choked laugh, she nodded. "That--that is very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you." His father's voice was raspy with emotion. "We promise to eat whatever you serve." He tried to joke. "Good thing we have a son who's a doctor."

Keiki pulled on Bryce's arm. "Let's do this."

Feeling a little guilty that an offer to cook had affected his parents to such an extent, Bryce decided to give it his all and make this a breakfast none of them would forget.

***************

Edenbrook, Dec. 23...

"And don't forget to test--"

"Ethan, shouldn't you be on the road by now?" Chris interrupted. "The weather is only going to get worse."

"Is this your way of trying to keep me from repeating the lab work I want done?" He countered.

She held up a readout. "Did it last night."

An expression of approval appeared on his face. "Well done, Rookie."

"A compliment? It really is Christmas." She teased.

He snorted while gathering his things. "Enjoy. It only happens once a year."

"Tell your dad, I said Merry Christmas." She yelled out as he left.

He waved in acknowledgement without looking back.

Chris dropped her head on the table, softly groaning in misery.

"And then there was one." She sat up and focused once more on her research of skin irritations, frowning at this being her holiday treat.

***************

Lahela Mansion...

"Our Bryce is not only one of the top surgeons, he is also engaged to a brilliant doctor."

Bryce forced a smile as his mother continued to pull him from one group to another. Lucky for him, he was only meant to stand there and appear delighted with life.

He wasn't really in the mood to socialize.

He glanced across the room and saw that his dad was doing the same with Keiki. The siblings shared a mutual glance of resignation.

After that one breakfast, their parents were ready to show the world that the Lahela's were still a prominent family that deserved awe and respect.

He hated being paraded like this. The only reason he still smiled was he felt a little guilty still over keeping them out of his life for so long. It surprised him that their parents had practically become recluses when Keiki also left. Having both their children move across the country to try and escape the Lahela name had been the wakeup call they needed.

Things still weren't what they once were, yet there was no denying the effort his parents were putting forth in the hopes of finding a new normal.

The only thing was, Bryce wanted to go home.

And home meant anywhere Chris was.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and excused himself.

Opening up the image Chris had sent made his brow furrow in confusion. It was some type of weird skin rash.

He then burst into laughter when he read the words she had typed under it.

This could be the eggnog talking, but does this guy's rash look like a fat reindeer to you?

He set his drink down and began to text back.

This is why I love you.

He smiled in anticipation as he waited for her response.

Who knew skin rashes had this kind of effect on you?

And? He sent back.

And I love you too.

Keiki sneaked over and peeked at his phone.

"Is that a reindeer?" She tilted her head to the side.

"Maybe." He put his phone back in his pocket.

He leaned against the doorframe, quietly observing the party.

"You don't have to stay." Keiki whispered.

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "But it won't kill me to hang out another hour at this party."

"I mean, you don't have to stay here for Christmas." She corrected.

"I thought you wanted me to."

"I did. Or do. But now that things have been talked about, I don't mind being alone here with Mom and Dad." Keiki explained. "I know you must miss Chris."

"I do." His mind began to whirl with possibly leaving. "You don't think it would upset our parents if I up and left?"

"Not if you tell them why."

He slung his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know, for little sisters, you aren't that bad?"

She rolled her eyes while fighting a grin. "I guess you aren't the worst either."

He squeezed her close, grinning when she hugged him back. "I'll talk to them after the party."

"This means I get to open my gift from you early, right?" Keiki asked.

"Gift? From me?" He placed his hand to his head. "Was I supppsed to get you something?"

Bryce grunted when she punched his bicep.

"I take everything nice back I ever said about you." She sniped back.

"Easy there, Ms. MMA. Some of us need our arms for work." He nodded toward the tree. "Your gift is wrapped in the candy cane paper."

She stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. "Is it anything from my list?"

"Of course it is. Do you honestly think I have any clue what a fifteen year old girl likes?" He reminded her. "Plus Chris made sure we got exactly what you wanted."

Keiki hugged him again. "I'm so glad you came with me."

He gently patted her back. "Me too, kid."

****************

Dec. 23rd, a few hours later, Honolulu International Airport...

"I understand that what I'm asking is the impossible." Bryce took a deep breath. "If you can get me as close to the east coast, I'll pay extra and drive the rest of the way if needed."

"Sir, we are having to cancel a number of flights due to weather." The ticket agent explained. "Your flight is for the twenty-sixth."

"I know. But I need to be home tomorrow." He repeated. "I'll fly anywhere. It doesn't have to be a direct flight to Boston."

The agent began to type while the line of people behind Bryce grumbled at the hold up.

"The closest I can get you is a five hour layover in Dallas." She typed some more. "You can then be on standby for a flight to Grand Rapids or I can book you in our economy class to Chicago which has a two hour layover in San Diego and another two hour layover in Houston."

"Chicago." He decided.

She printed out his new ticket. "Departs from Gate B-9 in one hour."

"Thank you." He hurried over to security.

***************

Dec. 24th, around four a.m. Chicago...

"I need something with four wheel drive." Bryce added.

"Yeah, you and everyone else." The car rental rep snickered. "It's Christmas Eve in the Midwest. You'll be lucky to leave here with a car that isn't a convertible with the top down."

Bryce ran his hand through his hair. "Just give me whatever you got."

"Huh." The rep's eyes widened. "Must be your lucky day. We have one SUV left."

Bryce felt the first glimmer of hope since his last three turbulent flights. "I'll take it."

*************

Dec. 24th, Boston...

It is going to be a white Christmas for Boston. Snow has been falling and will continue with a possible accumulation of eighteen inches. Some areas of the country are expecting up to twenty-

Chris changed the channel while getting ready for a long night at work. Her mood had been less than cheerful the more she thought about being alone tomorrow.

That and she had not heard from Bryce at all.

He's probably at another party, she thought. Maybe his family planned something special.

"Get your head right, Valentine." She told her reflection. "Nobody wants a depressed doctor missing her fiancé."

She searched her closet for something more festive to wear, hoping it would brighten her mood and her patients'. After choosing a red knit dress, she snagged a gingerbread cookie and headed out into the snow.

****************

Somewhere in the snow...

"A cup of coffee, please." Bryce checked the time again and softly groaned.

He had been driving since around five in the morning. With all the snow, the fifteen hour drive seemed to be growing longer and longer. He still had another five hours at the very least until he made it to Boston.

His phone chimed with a message from Chris.

Merry Christmas Eve! I miss you and hope you're having a good time.

He took a sip of the coffee and debated on whether or not to tell her what he was really doing. Typing out that he missed her too, he decided to remain quiet on how he was spending the night before Christmas.

**************

Dec. 25th, 8:00 a.m., Boston...

Chris trudged through the snow, playfully kicking up some of it. The night shift had thankfully been quiet for the most part. She had been able to go to the children's ward and play some Christmas themed games with them and their families.

Seeing their excited faces went a long way in helping lift her spirits.

Some of the staff had brought in some holiday treats and even Dr. Banerji brought in some homemade wassail in a crockpot to help stay warm in the snow.

Chris found a Secret Santa gift on her desk when her shift ended. Smiling, she opened it up to find a green cashmere scarf. Wrapping the soft material around her neck, she pulled on her snow boots and left in a much better mood than she had arrived in.

Humming Christmas carols, she continued to her apartment. She decided that this Christmas on her own would be spent in pajamas and dozing on the couch with A Christmas Story on continuous loop.

She was on the third verse to We Wish You a Merry Christmas when she unlocked the door.

"We won't go until we get some," she sang as she tossed her keys on a side table. "We won't--"

"Well, if you insist." Bryce said suggestively.

She stopped in her tracks. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him.

"Should we exchange presents before we get some or after?" He laughed when she launched herself into his arms, squeezing him tight.

"What are you--how--" she sighed into his kiss, snuggling closer.

"I wanted to spend Christmas at home." He told her.

"But you were home." She reminded him. "With your family."

"That's not home anymore." Bryce backed her to the sofa.

"So you're saying Boston has become your new home?" She laughed when they fell onto the cushions.

He gazed down at her, thinking of all the emotions she made him feel. His voice turned sincere as he smoothed her hair out of her eyes.

"Funny thing is, it isn't the place so much as the reason why this is now home." He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek before brushing his lips against hers as he spoke. "Wherever we are, as long as you're there, then that is where I will call home."