#you get a note from the guy you abandoned your ex with 20 years into being married

[spaceandfiction]

Okay per the Nicki is Santiago’s maker theory looking at the newspaper Santiago performed in 1921 so that would have to mean Nicki would was alive when Lestat met Louis which feels… wrong somehow. Theory rescinded

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟐)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 15.9k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him manage to agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), mentions of trust/abandonment issues, some angst, platonic fluff (at first), smut (18+)

author's note: the second and final part! not much to say except enjoy enjoy and happy (almost) new year🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Do you like Maddie’s dad?”

Hearing that abrupt question fall from Oliver’s lips confused you so much that all you could do was initially answer with a bewildered, “What?”

You were used to Oliver always asking random questions that felt as if they came out of absolutely nowhere; it was especially one of his favorite things to do during any sort of car ride, and this Saturday morning drive to the soccer field for practice was apparently no different. But, you fully did not expect to hear that question from him. 

“Are you guys, like, boyfriend-girlfriend?” He asked, and that follow-up question further confused you, or maybe it more so startled you.

“No… No, we’re not,” You answered and glanced at him sitting in the backseat through the rearview mirror. He was dressed in his dark green soccer uniform, wearing everything except for the cleats because he liked to put them on right before he ran out onto the field with the other kids. “What made you think that?” 

“I don’t know…” You could practically hear him shrug. “But, I think it would be cool if you guys were. Maddie thinks so too.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. “Oh, okay… But, I don’t think that will happen, bud. We’re friends. Just like you and Maddie.”

“Okay.”

It suddenly felt like perfect timing that you were pulling into the gravelly parking lot next to the soccer field. You helped Olly put on and tie up his cleats before he ran over to Maddie and the other kids already on the field. You grabbed the two coffees that were sitting in the cupholder and then headed to the silver metal bleachers, immediately spotting Steve among the other parents.

He gave you a quick wave and smile and you only nodded and smiled back at him since your hands were full and you couldn’t match his wave. It still felt the tiniest bit insane to you that what you had said to Oliver in the car wasn’t a complete lie; you and Steve were in fact friends, and had been for the past month. 

Just days after you two had the moment in your kitchen where the “enemies” hatchet was finally buried, he and Maddie came to the coffee shop sometime in the afternoon. For the first time ever, you didn’t feel like you needed to pretend to be nice to him. Instead, you found yourself actually wanting to be nice and you were glad about this surprise playdate. And that was when you knew that you two were friends, or at the very least, quickly getting there.

He and Maddie stayed for hours. With Maddie and Oliver sitting and playing games in a two-person booth, and Steve standing with you at the front counter. You two talked about random things— the kinds of things that you had a feeling you both would’ve learned about each other during your first-ever conversation if you two had actually been nice to one another— and then you let him try a new drink recipe that you had been playing around with because he was interested, and that became a sort of routine.

“Hi. Morning. Here.” You handed him one of the cups in your hand before taking your spot next to him in the middle row of the bleachers. “It’s another new thing I’m thinking about adding to the menu for the rest of Fall and maybe Winter too. Tell me your thoughts.”

He took a sip of the drink and then nodded. “This is good. Not as insanely sweet as the last thing you made me try.”

“Okay, I know you hated that latte that I gave you last week, but it’s actually been a big hit so far,” You told him. The sweet drink quickly became popular among the high schoolers that would frequent the coffee shop, and you were glad that you listened to Jude— one of your employees who was also a part of that younger demographic— and put it on the menu. “Oh, also, I think you and I might be getting parent trapped soon.”

“Should I be scared?” Steve asked, looking at you with a confused expression.

You stopped mid-sip of your drink. “Wait, have you not seen The Parent Trap?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Jesus, wow, you need to watch that movie, it’s a classic,” You told him, the shock you felt was evident in your tone. “Anyway, though, what I mean is that I think Olly and Maddie are gonna try to get us together. He mentioned in the car ride over here that they both think it would be cool if we started dating.” 

“Oh.”

“I already told him that that wouldn’t happen and we’re just friends, so hopefully that idea will blow over soon,” You said to Steve and then took a long sip from your drink. 

“Knowing our kids, I kinda doubt that will happen,” He responded, and you actually couldn’t help but agree with him. The way Maddie and Olly had managed to convince you and Steve about the playdate thing after a week’s worth of pestering proved that they wouldn’t let go of anything easily. Thinking about it now, you kinda admired how persistent they had been during then.

“Well, in that case, it’s good that they don’t look alike so they can’t try to switch places. But, we need to make sure that we stay away from boats and camping trips.”

Another confused expression crossed Steve’s face. “I really think I need to watch that movie.” 

“Yes, you do,” You said with a nod as you met his eyes. “As my friend, you need to promise me that you will watch that 1998 classic.”

He laughed a bit. “I promise.”

You turned your attention back to the soccer field and shook your head. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“What?”

“That we’re friends,” You said, looking at him again. “But, it’s nice, though.”

Steve nodded at that and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, it is.”   

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Over the past year, you’d come to savor anytime after 9pm. It was the only time of the day, well night, that you were able to have complete peace— no worrying about Oliver because he was asleep, and no worrying about the coffee shop because it was closed. 

On this particular night, long after Olly’s soccer practice and time spent at the coffee shop, you were in your bathroom, washing your face and putting on pajamas; which simply consisted of a random oversized t-shirt and shorts. You decided that you’d curl up in bed and spend the rest of your night watching a shitty reality show because it somehow always felt nice watching other people’s drama. 

Right as you were slipping on your t-shirt, your phone started ringing on the counter, which stopped the music that you had been playing from it, and you looked down to see that it was Steve FaceTiming you. 

This had happened a handful of times over the past month— him calling you, you calling him. It was usually to get quick answers to questions that either of you two had, but sometimes it was also just to talk about random things whenever a simple text didn’t feel like it would suffice. 

“Hi,” You said as you turned off the bathroom light and shut the door before heading to your bed. “Great timing. Oliver went to sleep about fifteen minutes ago.”

You noticed that Steve was also sitting in bed. He pushed a quick hand through his hair as he spoke. “I learned that if I’m gonna call, I should only do it after nine now.”

The last time he FaceTimed you, Oliver had been sitting next to you on the couch. When he heard Steve’s voice, he immediately asked him where Maddie was, and then she heard Olly’s voice from where she was playing in the living room. Barely a second later, your phones were immediately taken by the kids and they talked for an hour. 

“Great thinking,” You told him with a small approving nod. “I hope that whatever you called to talk about is good because I was just about to watch a very riveting reality show about these housewives taking a trip around Europe.”

“Wow, that sounds very fun,” Steve said, and you could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

“Mhm, it will be. I can’t wait until they get to Paris. According to the trailer, some huge argument is gonna happen when they’re at the Arc de Triomphe,” You responded, matching his sarcastic tone.

“Now, I’m really intrigued,” He joked. “Anyway, though, I called to tell you that I just finished watching The Parent Trap.”

You smiled at that. “I’m glad you did your homework early. Did you like it?”

“It was actually pretty good. Maddie watched some of it with me too, but she fell asleep not even halfway through.”

“She’s too young to understand the cultural importance of The Parent Trap just yet. She’ll come around soon.”

“Also, right after practice, she mentioned the dating thing to me. She said that she and Olly think it would be nice if you and me got together.” 

You let out a small sigh. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “She was very persistent too; asked if I thought you were pretty, and said that I should bring you flowers the next time I see you. Apparently, Oliver told her that your favorite ones are daisies, so I should make sure to get those for you.”

Your eyes widened a bit at his words. If you weren’t so shocked, you were almost certain that you would’ve laughed at how much thought your kids were putting into this whole idea. “Oh, wow, they’re relentless.”

“Are daisies actually your favorite?”

“Yeah,” You answered and then sighed again. You weren’t even entirely sure how Oliver knew that. When you two first moved into your house in Hawkins, you would buy fresh daisies every week in an attempt to make the place feel like a home because you barely had any furniture just yet and there weren’t that many decorations up either. But you couldn’t remember the last time you bought any flowers for the place.

Steve let out an amused sound. “Wow, yeah, Maddie and Olly are good.” 

You dating someone was the farthest thing from your mind, but it surprised you that it was the main thing on Oliver’s. You thought that you’d have a longer time before you’d have to worry about that; before you’d have to think about him really wanting some sort of “dad” or “father figure” in his life. Eddie was the closest thing, but Oliver didn’t see him as often anymore since his California move. 

You thought that the little family that you and Olly had, just the two of you, was enough— more than enough, even. 

“I didn’t think that this would happen this soon,” Steve said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “It’s only been a year since her mom left, so I really didn’t think that she’d want me to start dating, get married, whatever, whatever, anytime soon. And I’m too busy to even think about trying to look for someone.”

You agreed with him completely. And then there was also the fact that you simply didn’t want to date anytime soon. You despised the thought of finally having to start over; even though you knew that eventually one day you would. Maybe. 

As cynical and depressing as it sounded, you couldn’t really imagine it happening for you again— falling in love or just simply falling, deeply liking someone. And a part of you would just rather wholly avoid the possibility at all costs. 

You knew that how things ended with Oliver’s dad was not your fault at all, but that didn’t change the fact that you still felt stupid about everything; for being so blind to the affair and for believing his lies for as long as you did. And the thought of all of that potentially happening again— loving and trusting someone just to have them break your heart and fuck you over in one of the worst ways possible— terrified you. 

You could’ve said all of that to Steve, but you felt like that would’ve been way too long-winded and melancholic, so you decided to just simply nod instead. “I don’t know if we should just get used to them trying to get us together, or talk to them and say that us being anything more than friends is never gonna happen.” 

“If it becomes too much we probably should talk to them,” Steve said, and that made sense to you. “But now I’m glad Maddie fell asleep halfway through the movie because it probably would’ve just given her ideas.”

“Have you seen Freaky Friday?”

“No. Is that another movie that can relate to the situation we’re in right now?” 

“No, it’s just a really good movie. Another Lindsay Lohan classic,” You briefly explained. “You should watch it.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, as if he was really thinking about whatever he was about to say. “How about right now?” 

You laughed a bit before mock gasping at his question. “You trying to get me off the phone, Steven?”

He smiled at your fake offended look. “No, I meant that we could watch it right now. Together over the phone.”

“Oh,” You said, trying to hide your surprise at the suggestion. Watching a movie together was technically a friendly thing to do, but it did feel the tiniest bit intimate; like the two of you were crossing into a slightly altered territory of what your friendship was. That still didn’t make the idea necessarily sound bad to you, though. It sounded fun, a better way to spend the rest of your Saturday night than what you had originally planned on doing. “Okay, yeah let’s watch it. I guess I’ll just have to watch the housewives go to Europe at a different time.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“How’s it going so far?” Was the first thing you heard Eddie say when the call connected, and you couldn’t help but smile into your phone at how excited he sounded. It made you happy that you impulsively decided to call him when you stepped into the back room of your coffee shop; the kitchen area that felt equivalent to a second home for you. “It’s great, right?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, it’s been really good, honestly.”

The “it” that you both were referring to was the open mic night event happening at the coffee shop right then. Eddie had been the one to suggest the idea nearly a year ago, around the time when the shop finally opened.  

“It would make so much sense,” Was the beginning of his spiel. “This place is the perfect size to set up mic stands and speakers in the front by the window. Pretty much any sort of ‘starving artist’ would love to have a space where they can perform, and most people enjoy live music, so doing this will bring in a ton of business.”

You loved the idea and you agreed with Eddie’s points completely, but then he moved to California and it didn’t feel right to do the idea without him. But, he said that he wouldn’t let you not do it. Because no other place in the small town was doing something like this— and that very valid statement was the reason why tonight was already such a success. A part of you wished that you had done the event sooner, instead of continuously putting it off for months and months. 

The setup of it was simple— anyone with any sort of “talent” that they wanted to share was welcome to perform, and after a particularly awkward magician, the majority of the performances were musical, and almost everyone that decided to go up and sing or play something so far were pretty good. You had even teared up at a brother-sister duo that performed a self-written instrumental piece on the guitar and violin. 

“I would say an ‘I told you so,’ but I love you too much to be that much of an asshole right now.”

“Yeah, and another reason why you shouldn’t say any kind of ‘I told you so’ right now is because I’m still slightly mad at you for bailing at the last second and not being here tonight,” You responded, letting out a small sigh. You leaned against the metal table in the middle of the kitchen where a sheet of freshly baked cookies sat next to you. Eddie was also supposed to be sitting next to you at this moment, sneaking a cookie off the sheet, and then you getting playfully annoyed at him for doing so.

“I know, and I’m still really sorry. My publicist decided to set up something early tomorrow that I can’t get out of,” He said, re-explaining what he had already told you earlier that morning. Of course, you weren’t truly upset with him; he was doing what he loved out there in California, and you were doing what you loved right here in Hawkins. “Is Steve there yet?”

“Yeah, he got here like ten minutes ago. I’ve been so busy, though, so I haven’t gotten the chance to say much more than a quick hi to him.” 

Eddie hummed in response. “Has he fully replaced me yet?”

“Oh, shut up. Steve could never replace you, Munson,” You told him, your words a thousand percent true. “You’re more than just my best friend at this point, you’re like my fucking family. You cannot be replaced, and that also means that you can never get rid of me either, so I hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I wouldn’t dream of getting rid of you,” He said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice; you really missed him being only a ten-minute drive away.

“Thank you. I feel honored. Truly,” You said playfully.

“Oh, also, are Oliver and Madeline still trying to play matchmaker for you guys?” Eddie asked and you rolled your eyes at how amused he sounded. 

Somehow, your attempt in the car that Saturday to shut the dating idea down by telling Oliver that you and Steve were just friends, seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Olly would continuously remind you how much he liked Steve, how cool he was, and how he’d always have the best snacks whenever the kids were having a playdate at his house. Oliver even went as far as to tell you to wear more blue because that was Steve’s favorite color. 

And pretty much the same thing was happening to Steve but with Maddie. According to him, she gushed about you all of the time— perhaps actually convincing Steve to get her a fish only aided in that— and she continued to pester him about buying you flowers. 

But, their antics started calming down over the past few weeks, though, because of every gentle reminder you said to Oliver about how you and Steve were solely friends. It was way too hard to be stern about it because you hated disappointing him and you just really wanted him to be happy. But, before Steve came around, you thought that he was really happy with how things were. 

When you verbalized that thought on the phone to Eddie right then, he simply told you, “Just like you want him to be happy. He wants you to be happy too.”

“Why does he think that happiness comes from Steve?”

“Maybe he and Maddie see something that you two don’t see yet.”

You thought about his words. For a second, you wondered what the kids could possibly see that you and Steve seemed to be oblivious to. 

“Okay, and on that note, I’m gonna go. I’ve probably been gone for far too long. I told Jude that I was just going to grab the cookies that had been cooling for a few minutes and bring them out,” You told him as you took a quick glance at the mix of chocolate chip and sugar cookies again. “I’ll see you in less than a month for Christmas. Oh, and about that, you really didn’t need to buy me and Olly first-class plane tickets.”

You heard his playful scoff. “You guys are my family. Of course, I’m gonna get you first-class tickets.”

“Thank you, and this spoiling treatment is exactly why you’ll never be able to get rid of us,” You said and smiled when you heard Eddie laugh. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.”  

“Bye.”

When he hung up, you slipped your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans. You grabbed the now cooled cookie sheet and exited the kitchen, going back behind the counter with Jude. Since things had somewhat simmered down compared to how lively it had been an hour and a half ago, you told her that she should finally take her break for the night and she happily accepted the offer.

Steve walked up to you as you started placing the cookies in the display case. “Hi.” 

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Yeah, of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” He said, and hearing how genuine his words sounded made you smile. 

“It’s probably too late for coffee, so do you want a hot chocolate?” You asked and looked at him once you finished putting the last few cookies in the case. “It’s free. Friend discount for the night.”

“Wow, that’s a really good discount,” Steve said playfully.

“I like to be very generous to the people I care about,” You told him, matching his tone and smiling. “And I don’t have that many friends, so I’m actually not losing out on a lot of money.” 

He smiled back at you. “Now I feel even more honored that I’m one of them.”

You poured some hot chocolate into the blue mug that you would never admit out loud but was pretty much designated as Steve’s at this point. For some reason, you found yourself always making sure to use it for him whenever he wasn’t getting something to-go, and once you learned from Olly that Steve’s favorite color was blue, it felt even more right to use it for him. In your mind, you saw it as a small gesture that didn’t really mean too much, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. And that was another thing that you’d never admit out loud. 

“Thank you,” He said as you handed the mug over to him. The small smile he gave you let you know that he recognized the gesture and probably had been for the last month and a half. 

Instead of acknowledging the mug or the hot chocolate or anything else, you nodded your head in the direction of the makeshift “stage” area that you had set up earlier with the help of Jude. 

“Any secret talents you want to go up there and share?” You asked, only slightly joking with your question. “There’s a full waiting list, but I can move you to the top, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’d rather not cut in front of everyone that was here before me. Next time, though,” He answered and it was easy to hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“I will definitely hold you to that next time,” You said, playing along with him. “So, what’s your talent? Something tells me that you’re killer at the guitar. Ooh, wait, actually the triangle!”

Steve only gave you an unamused look and you tried your hardest to hold back your laughter.

“I’ll take that as a no to the triangle.”

“I’m gonna change the subject now,” He said, and you nodded, deciding to allow it to happen even though you had at least three more triangle jokes ready to go. “Can you please not let me forget to get some cookies for Maddie before I leave? She’s at my parent’s house for the night, but I promised I’d have some for her tomorrow so she can have them right after the soccer game.”

“Of course, I’ll put some to the side for her,” You told him. “I know the chocolate chip ones are her favorite. Same as Oliver.”

“Where is Olly?”

“At home with a babysitter— this super nice eighth grader that lives next door to us. She texted me half an hour ago that he finally fell asleep after watching Finding Nemo two times.”

“Maddie’s current movie obsession is Monsters Inc.,” Steve said with a small laugh. “We’ve been watching it at least once a night for the past week.”

“That’s a great one. She has good taste,” You said and Steve nodded.

You wanted to keep talking to him, but the sound of the music quieting down and soft clapping pulled you out of the conversation. 

“I’ll be right back. Gotta go announce the next person going up. Are you sure you don’t want it to be you?” You asked him teasingly.  

Steve only shook his head and rolled his eyes at you as you started walking away. 

You went up and introduced the next person, a middle-aged guy with a guitar who started playing the acoustic version of a song that you vaguely recognized from the radio. 

Steve was still standing right where you left him, lingering by the front counter and drinking from his mug, and you headed back to your spot behind the counter. He mentioned the PTA meeting last night that heavily talked about the Winter Carnival happening next week and Leslie, the head of the PTA, told everyone what their jobs would be— Steve was assigned to the popcorn station and you were put on the ring toss game. You and Steve already made plans to take the kids Saturday night since the First Grade parents only had to “volunteer” on Friday. He laughed at a joke you made right then about being surprised that you weren’t being forced to “volunteer” Friday and Saturday to make up for the fact that you didn’t help out last year.

Things went like that for the next hour— you two talking and laughing with one another, and some people coming up to order teas and hot chocolates and the occasional latte— until the time hit nine o’clock and the night came to its end. After giving a generous round of applause to the final performer and you announcing the end of this first open mic night, everyone slowly started heading out. 

A few people came up to you, telling you how great the night was and saying that you needed to do this again. You made a mental note to text Eddie later and once again thank him for this idea, and you’d maybe even let him finally say an “I told you so.”

You bagged up three chocolate chip cookies for Madeline and were about to hand them over to Steve, who was now sitting in an empty booth, and say your goodbye to him when Jude came up to you. There was a look on her face that resembled a cross between annoyance and slight worry. 

“I’m so sorry. I just got a call from my brother. He broke his arm while at his friend’s house and he’s at the hospital right now. And my parents are out of town for the weekend, so I’m the only “adult” around who knows all of the insurance stuff and everything, so I have to go. I’m sorry.”

The look on her face immediately made complete sense to you right then. Ever since you hired Jude eight months ago, you became very used to hearing her teenage rambles about her ten-year-old brother who she would constantly describe as the “bane of her existence.” Therefore, the fact that she was annoyed about this incident wasn’t surprising, but it was also a little heartwarming to see that you could tell that she was also, at least, the tiniest bit worried about him. 

“Yes, go. I completely understand. I hope he’s okay.”

“He’s an idiot, but he’ll be fine,” She responded as she joined you behind the counter for a second to grab her jacket that was hanging on one of the hooks and then started heading to the front door. “I’m really sorry again.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. Go, go,” You told her and she nodded. The bell chimed as she opened the door, and chimed again when it fell shut. 

You went over to Steve, sitting down across from him and handing over the bag of chocolate chip cookies. 

“Thanks,” He said, giving you a small smile. “I can stay and help you clean up if you want.” 

“I hope you really mean that because we’re past the point in our friendship where I would politely decline that offer to be nice. I’d actually really love some help right now.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I do mean it. And I owe you for the free hot chocolate and cookies.”

“You don’t owe me at all because that was the friend discount, but I will still accept that reasoning,” You said and smiled at him before slipping out of the booth. 

It was second nature for you to silently go into the routine that you were so used to doing at the end of every night— clearing mugs and small plates off the tables and tossing empty cups into the nearby trash can— and Steve followed suit.

Your mind almost immediately traveled to thinking about tomorrow, already going through and planning out what the day would look like— Oliver’s soccer game was in the morning and then you’d be back here for the rest of the day with Olly taking his spot in his favorite booth and proceeding to work on homework and then playing games, and you’d be at the cash register or in the kitchen working half of the day with Kyle, another one of your employees, and then the other half with Jude. You were then reminded that you would need to check in with her in the morning about her brother and see if she’d even be able to come in tomorrow. 

Your never-ending thoughts should’ve been taking a break for at least an hour or two, it was late and you were exhausted. But, whenever you were here closing up for the night, it was hard not to think about everything that could technically be deemed as “morning problems for tomorrow.” The relief you’d always feel about one day going really well would oh so quickly be replaced with the stressed need to make sure that the next day also went well, which made it completely impossible to not think about it. 

You weren’t sure how long things had been quiet, but when you heard Steve break the silence and softly say, “You okay?” you became aware of how long it had been since either of you had said something. 

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I’m just thinking a lot, I guess. Running through a million things at once,” You told him as you cleared one of the last tables, grabbing the mug full of a half-drunken latte and crumb-filled plate. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s what I thought. You kinda get this certain look on your face when you’re thinking really hard.”

You let out a laugh. “Does it resemble a deer in headlights? Because Eddie’s told me that one before.”

Steve coughed, which you knew was him just trying to hold back his laugh, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him as he spoke. “I feel bad saying yes, but yeah he’s right.”

“Just so you know, you also have a very uncute serious face.”

“I didn’t say yours wasn’t cute.”

You weren’t entirely sure what felt more unexpected; Steve’s words or how immediately affected you felt by them. Any quip or teasing joke you had on the tip of your tongue vanished in a matter of seconds, and your mind effectively became a flustered pile of mush; almost embarrassingly so. 

You were glad that Steve couldn’t see you right then, and you were especially glad that you two were on completely opposite sides of the shop at that moment— you putting the dirty mug and plate in the sink, and him clearing off the final table and tossing a coffee cup and random wrapper in the trash— because that distance meant that there was no way that you could read too heavily into what he just said, and he couldn’t pick up on how awkward and confused you immediately felt because of it.

A forced laugh fell from your lips, and you hoped to God and the universe and whatever else was out there that it didn’t sound completely fake. 

You walked over to the front window, where the makeshift stage area was, and grabbed the mic stand and wooden stool and Steve grabbed the two now unplugged speakers and followed you to the storage closet in the back. Once all of that was put away, you would just need to prep the cookie dough for tomorrow, and then the night would be done. 

“How are your baking skills, Harrington?” You asked him. You met his eyes for the first time in the past few minutes, it felt easier to do so now since your mind was back to only thinking about work.

“I’ve never baked anything before, but I’m good at following instructions.”

You smiled at that answer and it was what led you both to the kitchen. After washing your hands, you grabbed two metal bowls and the ingredients that would be needed for the cookies. And Steve was telling the truth, he was good at following instructions— you did the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, and you told him what to do for the sugar ones since they were a little bit easier, and it was all finished faster than you had expected. You put some plastic wrap over both bowls before placing them in the fridge.

“Thanks for all of the help tonight,” You told him. You both were now washing your hands at the sink that was full of the dishes that were the actual final thing you’d have to do before leaving. “If you’re ever in dire need of a part-time job, you’re hired.”

“Is the employee discount as good as the friend discount?” Steve asked as you turned off the water. He ripped off a paper towel and handed it to you and then grabbed one for himself. 

“It’s twenty percent.”

“I think I’ll just stick to being your friend then.”

That time you did entirely read into his words, as playful as they were. Just friends. That was exactly what you wanted and needed from him. You weren’t in the right headspace to consider being anything else with him, and you weren’t sure you ever would be. 

And besides, you liked being friends with him. It had been completely unexpected, but you liked talking to him, and you liked hanging out with him during Oliver and Madeline’s playdates that now felt like they were playdates for you both too, and you liked watching movies on the phone with him some nights before you went to bed— just last night you’d watched the first Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movie, as per Steve’s request. 

You were perfectly okay with being just friends with Steve, and as you continuously told Olly, it was the only thing that you two would ever be.  

You looked at him right then and he almost immediately met your gaze. 

“I don’t know how I’m just now noticing this, but you got some flour on your forehead,” You told him. Before he could say anything, you stepped closer to him and reached up to brush the white substance away with the damp paper towel in your hand. 

He gave you a soft look and there was a small smile on his face. “Thanks.”

It was obvious what sequence of events should’ve happened next— you should’ve told him that you just needed to clean the dishes in the sink and then the night would officially be done, and he didn’t have to stay for that. You should’ve finally said a goodbye and see you tomorrow to him.

However, right then, neither of you moved, and instead this sudden close proximity and the look and smile on his face made you get hit with the abrupt feeling that you wanted something more to happen, something more than just a friendly goodbye that was maybe followed by a simple hug. 

It was an insane idea that contradicted everything you had just told yourself. But, deep down you knew that the reason why you felt the urge to kiss him right here in this moment was the same reason why you always used the same mug for him every time he came here, and why you refused to admit it out loud. And right then, you still refused to dissect exactly what that all meant and what it would come to mean in the long run. 

Just for a second, you didn’t want to think about anything. You wanted to turn your brain off and simply focus on this moment that somehow felt so fucking right.  

And maybe Steve could read how much you wanted this to happen through the enamored look that you were certain was written all over your face, and that was why he let his hand come up to meet your cheek and why he leaned in closer, which made your eyes fall shut in anticipation. 

There was such a huge part of you that wanted this to happen, that felt as if you needed it to because maybe it had always been inevitable.

However, it didn’t take long for the existential dread to creep into your mind and prick right at the forefront of it. The reminders of why you’d been so scared of something like this happening with anyone for the past three years hit you like a freight train. Once you thought about all of that, you couldn’t force yourself to think or not think about anything else. Your mind was now on Oliver’s dad and what that entire situation with him changed for you— how it made you think about and see everything involving love so differently. 

And it was that painful reminder of what you were now terrified of that made you pull away from Steve and turn your head at the last second.

“I… I’m sorry.” 

Your gaze was fixed on the floor because you couldn’t bear to see what look was written across Steve’s face right then. 

“It’s okay.” His voice was soft when he spoke, which somehow made you feel worse.

“It’s just…” You wanted to say something, but you couldn’t pull your thoughts together fast enough. Your mind was moving in a thousand different directions and you still couldn’t even muster up the courage to simply look at Steve right then.

“You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, really,” He assured you again and you felt like he was being way too nice to you when you felt like the shittiest person.

“No, I wanna explain…” You told him, finally meeting his eyes. It was hard to read what he was thinking or feeling right then. “It’s just… I can’t– I don’t know.” You shook your head at yourself for being at such a loss for words at that moment. “I’m really sorry.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Let’s just pretend this never happened,” He stepped away from you then, and you let him, deciding not to say anything else— you could no longer trust your voice, anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the soccer game.”

You nodded quickly because you knew that there was nothing else to do. “Mhm, yup, yeah, see you tomorrow.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Oliver gave you a look that he knew you wouldn’t be able to deny— there were puppy dog eyes and a pout that actually made your heart hurt. He was good. And you were weak.

“Okay, you can finish this episode, but then you’re starting your homework, bud.” 

He smiled and leaned back into the couch, turning his attention back to the cartoon that was playing on the television in the living room. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” You told him. You were completely okay with giving Olly some time to relax after school before starting his homework, but somehow you were almost always convinced by him to turn the thirty minutes into an hour— and maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised that this Wednesday afternoon was no different. 

It was also, overall, a surprisingly calm afternoon. There weren’t a thousand tasks on your plate right then; the calls you had to make and orders you had to place were already done. You had been at the coffee shop the entire morning and some of the afternoon before you had to pick Olly up from school, and Jude and Kyle would be closing for the night. Essentially, you would be free for the rest of the evening and night.

Instead of attempting to find anything to stress about at that moment, you were sitting on the small loveseat in the living room with your laptop balancing on the arm of the chair as you scrolled through the pictures taken during the open mic night.

Having a photographer for the night had been Steve’s suggestion, and it made sense coming from him given that he was in marketing, and he said that posting some on social media would be a good way to promote the event if and when you decided to do it again. You also thought it could be a nice idea to frame some and hang them up in the coffee shop. 

For most of the night, you’d forgotten that there had been a photographer there because of how discreet Shelby had been the entire time. But now you were looking at the edited pictures she emailed you earlier that morning of everything she’d taken barely a week ago, and you were already blown away even though you’d only looked at the first ten so far. 

There were a bunch of shots of people sitting at tables and booths happily enjoying their drinks and food, and there were also some of the people who decided to go up and perform. As you clicked through each of the photos and made mental notes of which ones you’d maybe want to post or hang up, you abruptly stopped at one of you and Steve. 

It shouldn’t have been that surprising to see a photo of you and him, you had been with each other during most of the night, but it still genuinely startled you to see such a candid moment of the two of you.

You were standing on one side of the counter and Steve was on the other— that was the only part of the photo that didn’t surprise you. You couldn’t tell just from that single shot what you two had been talking about in that moment, but it looked like whatever the conversation was about was a good one. There was a wide and elated smile on your face that reached your eyes, which were staring right into Steve’s, and an adoring look was written so clearly across his face along with a small smile. 

It looked like you two were dating; like you were newlyweds, even— if it were strangers in this photo, you would’ve easily thought either of those things. It looked like a picture of two people in love, so completely and utterly in love with each other. 

And it especially looked so goddamn obvious. 

Before even seeing this picture, it was clear to you that you felt something for him— what other reason would have made you almost kiss him that night? But, you didn’t realize just how deeply you felt, and you had forced yourself not to think about any of that over the last few days. You hoped that if you avoided and didn’t think about it, it would all just eventually go away. However, now that it was staring you right in the face, it suddenly became way too hard to deny everything or push it away or even pretend that you hadn’t just seen that picture. 

You were hit so abruptly with the truth that you couldn’t not finally admit it to yourself. You always gave him the same mug when he came to the coffee shop because you liked him. You wanted so badly to kiss him that night because you liked him. Fuck.

You quickly realized that what you saw in that photo was what Oliver and Madeline saw all of the time, and now it made complete sense why they were trying to push you and Steve into each other’s arms. Although you and him were apparently oblivious, they saw how happy you two were with each other. 

Eddie was right.

Your once calmed mind was now back to running a million miles a minute, and it became fully submerged with thoughts of Steve and how you felt about him and the almost kiss that you tried your hardest to forget ever even happened. You felt the overwhelming urge to cry the longer you looked at the photo, but you still couldn’t help but keep staring at it. 

You stood up from the loveseat and took a brief look at Olly before you walked out of the living room, he was laughing at the show on the TV. You went into the kitchen, setting your laptop down on the table and pulling your phone out of where it was in the pocket of the sweatpants you were wearing. You called the only person that you wanted to talk to at that moment, and you hoped that he wasn’t busy even though it was barely noon in California right then. 

When Eddie answered with a happy “Hello” on the fourth ring, you immediately said, “You were right.”

“Right about what?”

You bypassed his question for the moment. “I’m gonna send you a picture and just tell me what you… See in it. What you notice about it.” 

“That sounds very cryptic, but I’m intrigued,” He said and if it were any other moment, you probably would’ve cracked a smile at Eddie’s comment, but you felt way too stressed to do so.  

You texted him the photo of you and Steve through your laptop and when it said “Delivered” after a few seconds, you waited for whatever Eddie had to say about it. He’d be the one to tell you if you were crazy and overthinking things with the picture or not. 

It was quiet for barely thirty seconds before he said something. “Woah. Shit.”

You were mindlessly pacing back and forth from the table to the sink as you held the phone to your ear. “Can I get a full sentence, please?”

“I knew that you liked him, but I didn’t know you were in love with him.”

That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear from him. 

“What? You didn’t— I don’t—” You shook your head and took a breath. “Before seeing that picture, what could’ve possibly made you think that I liked him?”

“From the moment you told me that you and him were finally friends, there was just something about the way you talked about him. And then as you guys got closer and you talked about him more, it just seemed pretty obvious.”

Once again, Eddie said something that was entirely unexpected. It was hard to imagine it— you walking around with a crush that was apparently obvious to everyone but you— but you now knew it was true. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? You never called me out about it.”

“I figured you’d just tell me when you wanted to or when you decided to do something about the crush,” He answered, and that was such a nonchalant and Eddie kind of response that it didn’t surprise you in the slightest bit. “Is this your way of finally telling me?”

“No,” Was your immediate answer. In a way, it felt like a reflex or second nature to deny how you were feeling. “I’m not even sure if I actually have feelings for him.”

Your life would’ve been so much easier if that wasn’t a complete lie. 

Eddie immediately laughed at your words and when you didn’t join in, he stopped. “Oh, you’re being serious. I thought you were joking.”

“It’s just…” You had absolutely no idea how to finish your statement. You sighed and finally sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m really, really confused and scared, Eddie.”

Before he could say anything in response to that, you closed your eyes and said your next words. “Me and him almost kissed.” 

“Woah, what the hell? When?”

“It was last week at the open mic night. He stayed and helped me clean up because Jude had to leave early. We were washing our hands after making cookie dough and somehow we were about to kiss, but I pulled away at the last second and then he left. And we’ve been pretending like none of that happened ever since.”

It actually hadn’t been so hard to force things to be normal and completely okay between you two. Neither you nor Steve brought up what happened, just like you both agreed on, and in a way, it was easy to pretend as if the moment never happened in the first place— technically, nothing actually did happen, anyway. 

“Why did you pull away?”

“It was because of a mix of a bunch of things that are all basically the same thing,” You said and then let out a sigh. “I never thought that I’d want to be with someone again; like them or love them or whatever else. And I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to feel anything even remotely equivalent to love ever again because of the shitstorm my marriage became. And I do like Steve and I do feel all of those things that I didn’t think I ever would again, but I still don’t know if I'll ever be ready for something… More. Something real again because of everything that happened with…” You trailed off; you didn’t have to say his name for Eddie to know exactly who you were talking about. 

“Fuck that guy,” Eddie said with a huff. “I swear if I ever meet him, I’m gonna beat his ass.”

The conviction in his tone made you smile. “Thank you.”

“I do think that you can trust Steve, though. He’s one of the good ones. If this fucking picture says anything, it’s that he definitely feels the same way as you. And if it says anything else, it’s that he wouldn’t even think about fucking things up.”

It was hard not to smile at Eddie’s words. “You can see all of that in this photo?”

“You know the saying. A picture’s worth a thousand words or some shit,” He told you, and you could practically hear the shrug in his voice, which made you laugh for a second before you thought about something. 

“What if I’m the one that’ll mess everything up?” You asked him and then your mind traveled back to that night— you basically running away from everything, and Steve accepting that and walking away from it all too. Why would he want to try again with you? “Actually, never mind, I think I already did.”

“No, you didn’t,” Eddie reassured you, and for once it was hard to believe his words. “When are you gonna see him again?”

You thought for a second. “A little bit on Friday because we both have to volunteer at the Winter Carnival thing, but I doubt I’ll be able to have an actual conversation with him there. But, I’ll see him Saturday for the last soccer game and then later that night because we’re gonna take the kids to the carnival.”

“Okay, be honest with him there.”

“You make doing that sound so easy, Munson.”

“I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy— especially after all of the shit you went through with Olly’s dad. And it’s pretty clear that a lot of that happiness does come from Steve,” Eddie told you and for the first time, you didn’t have the urge to deny those words. “If you’re honest with him and he’s understanding and likes you too much to let you go, then everything works out and that’s great. Or, if you’re honest and it turns out that he thinks you did mess everything up too much and doesn’t wanna be with you, then fuck Harrington too and I’ll also beat his ass.” 

“For once, I actually believe that you did have a “bad boy” phase.”

“I told you. I used to be such a badass,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “But, seriously, just know that I’ll be there for you no matter what scenario happens, so don’t worry about which one does. Also, just know that if, when I see you next week for Christmas, you haven’t said anything to him and there’s been no resolution to this situation yet, I will only let Oliver stay with me. You can find a hotel somewhere.”

“I promise I’ll say something,” You told him, and it truly didn’t feel like you were lying, and Eddie could tell that too.

When the call ended moments later and you placed your phone down next to your laptop, you looked at the picture again. 

You no longer felt startled seeing you and Steve like this— so smitten and happy. It made you feel content, at ease even. You felt yourself smile a little, and it was like you were a little kid with a crush all over again; which, technically, had been the case for the last month, but now you were aware of it and it felt weirdly good.

You realized then that it was a mistake pulling away from Steve that night. A big mistake that you sincerely hoped you could recover from because you no longer wanted to run away. And you hoped Eddie was right in saying that it actually wasn’t too late and you didn’t completely mess everything up. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

There hadn’t been a right moment all night. Or maybe you were just getting too into your head about everything. 

In the handful of days leading up to the Winter Carnival, it was hard to keep your mind off of Steve. Instead of beginning to second guess yourself and becoming unsure of everything— like you expected to happen since feeling like this again was so foreign to you— it all only became more and more certain. Your mind was the clearest it had been in such a long time; it was almost as if once you decided to no longer avoid how you felt, the rest just seemed to fall into place.

However, when Saturday night finally came around and you met up with Steve in the grassy parking lot of the large field where the carnival was happening, your focus was solely on Oliver and Madeline. Seeing how happy and content they were going on the few rides that were set up and playing the games, made it easy to forget what you needed to do. And it also made a part of you not want to do it— not want to change things; potentially for the worse if Steve actually didn’t feel the same way or no longer wanted anything to happen. But then you’d think about that picture and what Eddie said, and you knew that you had to find that moment to finally be honest, no matter what the outcome would be.

But still, no moment had been the right one. Not the moment where there was a brief lull of silence between you and Steve when Olly and Maddie were intensely focused on playing whack-a-mole, and not the moment where you and Steve quietly watched from the sidelines as they went on the train ride that just went round and round in a wide circle for a few minutes. And not even now when the night had finally come to its end and you both were about to drive away and leave.

The kids were fast asleep in their car seats and you and Steve lingered by the front of your cars. He had already said his goodnight to you and you reluctantly said the same, and you knew that he was about to turn and step inside his car— you could tell by the small smile he gave you— so you had to finally say something 

“Wait, um, before you go. I wanted to say…” You trailed off for a second and then you were speaking before you even realized what you were saying. “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”

Right as the question left your lips, you felt like an idiot. That was not what you were supposed to say; at least, not first. For a moment, Steve only looked at you, confused. Your question lingered harshly in the cold Winter air and you were about to take it back and start from the beginning, the actual beginning, but Steve finally said something.

“A date? Like, a real date?” He asked after what felt like the longest stretch of silence that you thought you’d ever experienced, and when you only nodded in response, because you were too nervous to say anything more right then, he said, “What’s changed since the open mic night? After that, I was pretty sure that you didn’t feel anything for me.” 

“I’m sorry. I know this sounds like it’s coming entirely out of nowhere. I had this whole long thing planned to say, and I messed up and started at the end instead of the beginning because I’m an idiot,” You sighed and then pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. “Can I send you something? It’s one of the pictures from that night that the photographer took.”

If Steve didn’t already think that this entire moment was insane, he probably did now, but he still said, “Okay.”

You sent him the picture that had now been sitting in your camera roll since Wednesday and then tucked your phone back into your pocket, eyes back on Steve and waiting for his reaction. 

“Oh,” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Other than the clear surprise, it was hard to read his expression right then. “Oh, wow.”

“That was probably my exact reaction when I saw it too,” You said, letting out a small laugh that felt entirely too awkward, but you pushed past it. “Okay, now here’s the very long-winded speech that I’ve been kinda rehearsing in my head for the past few days and I hope I don’t mess it up this time.” You took a breath and didn’t let your gaze break from his. “I like you, Steve. A lot. That picture kind of says it all, and it gave me the much-needed push to stop being so oblivious toward everything. The reason that I pulled away that night wasn’t because I don’t feel anything for you, it was because I do feel everything for you— and that’s terrifying as hell. Because you already know about everything that happened between me and Oliver’s dad, and it was one of the hardest things I ever had to go through. I loved him and he hurt me and pretty much ruined the entire way I viewed love and relationships. I never thought that I would want to date again, and I honestly wanted to just avoid it entirely, but now here you are.”

You took a breath, probably your first one in the past minute and a half. “And although doing this right now still does kinda scare the crap out of me, it’s an okay kind of scary— if that makes sense. The thought of finally starting over and starting something with you doesn’t feel as terrifying as I thought it would. Instead, it feels really exciting. And I hope that me running away that night didn’t completely mess things up between us before they really even got the chance to start.”

As your final words left your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from Steve’s. 

He was quiet for what felt like forever, but you knew that he was just processing everything you said, which was a lot, and the overall length felt equivalent to a speech that you had to give in high school during your History class. That had been such a nerve-wracking moment, and you remembered nearly throwing up once you were finished speaking and sitting back at your desk— this time also felt sort of similar to that. But, in this moment, it also felt like the biggest weight was lifted off of your shoulders, so you didn’t regret your words at all. 

The longer you waited for Steve to say something, anything, the more you got the urge to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to reject you— the prolonging silence made you feel like that would be the inevitable thing to happen right then. It wouldn’t be the outcome you wanted, and you’d leave this makeshift parking lot partially devastated, but also with your head held high, at least, because you had been honest and you tried.

The words were about to leave your lips— the same ones he said to you that night; “It’s okay”— but then he smiled at you, a soft smile that managed to too easily warm you up from the inside out, and then he shook his head. “You didn’t ruin everything.”

“Really?” 

“Really,” He said, and it was that reassurance that made you inwardly let out a breath. “I completely understand why you’ve been scared— a part of me is really scared too because of everything that happened last year. There was barely any sort of a relationship left between me and Maddie’s mom before she left, but that didn’t really make going through that any easier. I trusted her and a part of me loved her, and in the beginning, I hoped that she would come back— maybe more for Maddie’s sake than mine. Once I fully accepted that she wasn’t, and deep down I think I always knew that, I never thought that I’d fall for someone else so soon. But, it was almost too easy to fall for you— and I think it started happening before I could even realize it was happening. And like you said, that picture pretty much says it all. So, yes to the date. Definitely yes.”

It was hard not to smile at his final words. It made you want to kiss him, but that felt like it was something that should be saved for a different moment entirely. 

You stepped closer to him and pushed yourself up on your toes, letting your arms loop around his neck and hugging him instead. It seemed almost instinctual how quickly Steve’s arms came up to circle your waist. 

You two had hugged a few times before, usually they were quick and in lieu of a “Goodbye” or “See you later,” and they were typically never anything more or less than a side hug. But, this one was completely different, it definitely didn’t say goodbye or see you later. Instead, it somehow managed to say a thousand other things. 

How tightly Steve held you, told you that he wouldn’t even think about hurting you or breaking your heart, and it also let you know that Eddie was right about you being able to trust Steve completely. 

And how your face was buried in Steve’s neck, fully taking in his scent, told him that he didn’t need to be scared of how quickly he was falling for you, the past wouldn’t repeat itself. 

Both of you had your shitty pasts, that in some ways you both were still recovering from, but it didn’t mean that you had to disregard or push aside what this was— these strong feelings you two had. Neither of you would say it out loud just yet, but it was clear that you loved each other. 

It was way too soon to put those three words out there, but they didn’t have to be said for both of you to know that they already existed so prominently between you two. The long embrace managed to say it all.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Things were left fairly open-ended that Saturday night because it was quickly discovered that your schedules were way too busy with work and holiday plans to do something as soon as you both wanted to. And then, after a few texts and a late-night FaceTime call, it was decided that you’d see each other and plan things out when you and Oliver got back on the twenty-seventh from spending Christmas in California. 

You wanted so badly to kiss him when you saw him for the first time after a week of nothing but texts and sporadic phone calls— and that feeling only increased tenfold when you noticed the bouquet of daisies in his hand. But you couldn’t kiss him in a coffee shop full of people, so you settled for a hug instead, where he very subtly whispered in your ear how badly he also wanted to kiss you at that moment.

He and Madeline stayed for most of that afternoon. She played board games in a booth with Oliver, and Steve helped you out with little tasks you had to do since, on that day, it was just you working in the coffee shop. It was hours full of lingering touches— his hand brushing against your waist or hip at the most random of moments, and you standing almost flush next to him and your hands continuously grazing his as you showed him how to work the coffee machine— and long looks that made your brain feel fuzzy.

Both of you were standing in the back kitchen area when one of his hands found yours after you finished putting a sheet of cookies in the oven. “I already have an idea for what I want us to do for our date.”

You stepped a little closer to him and found his other hand to intertwine it with yours. “Since I asked you on the date, I think that I should be the one to plan it.”

“You can plan the second one,” He told you and it was hard not to smile at that. “So, when’s the next night you’re free?”

“New Year’s Eve, actually. We’re gonna be closed here then, and New Year’s Day too.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, perfect.”

Now that night had finally rolled around, and in comparison to the anticipation you’d been feeling for the last few days about it, a good kind of nervousness was coursing through your body as you hurried down the stairs when the doorbell rang at seven o’clock.

Oliver was already in the living room playing Connect Four with your next door neighbor, Natalie, who was almost always willing to babysit him for you. And she didn’t even seem to mind doing it tonight, even though it was New Year’s Eve, because she said that it would get her out of going to this party with her parents at her dad’s job. You still promised to pay her double the amount you usually gave her. 

“I left some money to order a pizza,” You told Natalie as you quickly put your shoes on, a pair of boots that stopped just below your knee and nicely complimented the short length of the dress you were wearing, and then you grabbed your coat and purse. “Call or text me if anything happens or you need something, you know the usual.”

“Got it,” She responded with a quick nod as she made her next move in the game. 

“I’ll see you later, Olly. Are you still gonna try and stay up until midnight?”

Oliver smiled up at you and nodded. “Yup.” 

“Good luck,” You said, smiling back at him.

You opened the front door and were immediately met with the sight of Steve standing at your doorstep, wearing a nice pair of black jeans and a coat over his long-sleeved white button-up shirt. 

You closed and locked the door behind you before turning to look at him again, a small smile on your face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” He told you and then his gaze traveled down your body for a brief second before meeting your eyes again. “You look really great.”  

His words let you know that you definitely made the right decision about pulling out the red strapless dress that had been sitting in your closet for the past year. It had no real reason to come out until now; for a date with someone that you really liked. And even after a year, it still looked great on you, hugged your body in all the right places, and made you feel really good. This was the first time in a long time that you were out of your typical “mom attire,” simple jeans and a plain t-shirt that was typically covered by an apron, and you wanted to look extra nice tonight; even if you and Steve wouldn’t be doing something fancy or extravagant.  

“Thank you,” You responded, smiling wider at him. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but as long as it’s not a hike or paintball, I think I should be fine.”

“Don’t worry, I think high-intensity things like that are usually saved for third dates,” He said playfully. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s so true,” You said, matching his tone and nodding. “But, if you force me to go on a hike for our third date, I’ll never go out with you again.”

“Okay, got it. Is paintball still on the table, though?”

“Sure.”  

“Great, so I won’t have to cancel our reservation in three weeks,” He responded, and the over-dramatic sigh in relief he let out made you laugh a bit.

It was almost embarrassing how easily Steve made you feel like you were back in middle school and crushing on the boy in your Math class. You hoped Josh Miller was doing well wherever he currently was because right then, as Steve reached out his hand and you slipped yours into his open palm, you knew for a fact that you were.

“Do I finally get to find out what we’re doing tonight?” You asked once you were settled in the passenger seat of his car.

Steve shook his head. “You’ll see once we get there.”

You sighed but still nodded. “The anticipation is killing me, just so you know.”

“Please don’t die before I get to show you everything.” 

That got a smile from you. “I’ll try my hardest not to.”

The drive was only about fifteen minutes— with you controlling the radio the entire time, and Steve’s hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel resting on your exposed thigh, and his thumb lightly stroking the bare skin throughout most of the ride. It was an action that essentially made your brain short circuit and was the reason why you had accidentally stopped on a station playing country music for longer than you intended. Your brain only started working again when the car was parked and you noticed that you were in his driveway.  

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Usually, you bring the person back to your house at the end of the date, not the beginning, Harrington. How long has it been since the last time you did this?”

“Ha ha,” He said with a playful roll of his eyes at your sarcastic question. “The date is actually happening here, so that rule doesn’t really apply to this situation.”

“Okay, fair,” You responded, nodding. Your mind was already starting to run through the possibilities of what he had set up for you in his house.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to check something really quick first,” He told you and you only nodded again. 

Steve was barely gone for five minutes before he was opening the passenger door for you and helping you step out of the car. 

“Can I cover your eyes?”

“You’re actually making me really nervous now, but I’ll allow it,” You answered and he stepped behind you, covering your eyes with his hands.

“I think I might be more nervous than you,” He whispered, lips brushing your ear, which sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine and you were glad that you had your coat on because it hid your goosebumps.

“Impossible,” You told him. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I hate surprises?”

“Yes, because now I don’t believe you.”

He was right to not believe you because that was technically a lie, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still nervous about what this surprise would be. 

You expected him to guide you up the front steps of his house, but instead, you were led a different way, to the backyard. At some point, Steve stopped you both, but he still kept covering your eyes as he began talking. 

“Okay, so the initial idea I had was that we go to a drive-in movie theater because I feel like movies are kind of our thing at this point, and going to just a normal theater would be boring. But, the closest drive-in is over an hour away, and there was one specific movie I wanted us to watch anyway, so I decided to just set something up here.”

He pulled his hands away then and you opened your eyes. The first thing you saw was 

the large blanket set up in the middle of the backyard, there were a bunch of pillows on it along with a few folded up blankets and you noticed the plastic bowl full of candy and bucket of popcorn too. You then saw the projector screen that was set up a few feet in front of the blanket and the movie that was already queued up on it. Since it was currently paused, you could see the name in the top left corner— The Parent Trap. Everything was perfect, and you were about to tell Steve exactly that, but he started talking again before you could. 

“And I know you’re dressed up really nice right now, which means that you were probably expecting us to do something fancy, so I’m sorry if this is kind of a disappointment. But, I promise next time I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant ever and—”

You cut off his rambling by turning to him and kissing his cheek. “This is the most thoughtful thing I think anyone has ever done for me. I love this.”

He smiled and you could see the happy relief washing over his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling back at him.

You pulled off your coat and slipped off your shoes and then grabbed one of the folded blankets to wrap around yourself before sitting down. 

“Maddie helped with a lot of the setup. She told me to add more pillows and blankets so that everything could feel really cozy,” Steve told you and you nodded at that, saying a quick, “She was very right.” “Also, I wasn’t sure what type of candy was your favorite, so I got a little bit of everything.” 

You grabbed the first stray bag of Skittles that you were able to find in the plastic bowl. “These are probably my favorite, but I do kinda like everything.”

“Okay, good to know for next time,” He said and there was something about the mention of “next time” that made your heart happily feel as if it was about to burst in your chest. 

Steve walked over to where the projector and his laptop were set up on his patio table so that he could start the movie. When he sat down right next to you, you gave him some of your blanket and he didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you as the opening credits and song started playing. 

The cold got to you quicker than you expected it to. You shifted a bit so that your legs were draped over Steve’s lap, you were almost sitting in his lap with how close you were. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his warmth and the blanket that was draped over you both engulf you completely. But when the blanket and his own body heat still weren’t enough to keep you warm, he went inside and grabbed a hoodie for you to wear. 

Not even halfway through the movie, you could feel his gaze solely on you; maybe it was to make sure that you were comfortable, which you were, or maybe it was to make sure that you were enjoying everything, which you also were. 

You looked at him, an amused smile on your face. “You should be watching the movie, not me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything— just simply kept looking at you, admiring you— until he finally did say something. “I know that this is completely breaking first date etiquette and another one of the “rules,” but I really wanna kiss you right now.”

You were nodding before the final words even managed to leave his lips. “Do it.” 

One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and he simply stared at you for a second before tilting your head up a bit and leaning in to softly slot his lips against yours. It was slow at first, like you both really wanted to savor this moment since it was the first time this was ever happening. 

Pushing yourself impossibly closer to him, your mouths moved against each other so seamlessly, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this was happening between you two— there was absolutely no confusion or uncertainty laced within this intimate moment. 

Steve pulled away slowly too, which elicited a soft and quiet whine from you. A sound that managed to oh so easily flip the switch for the both of you. From there, things became much more desperate and needy, as if you were two teenagers who just discovered what making out was. Your mouth hungrily found his that second time and his hand moved from your face and went down to grip your hip. 

For the most part, the movie became long forgotten, but there were some moments where you would abruptly pull away from Steve and claim that you two were “missing the good part of the movie,” and you’d force your attention back to that. It would always only be for a moment though, because before you knew it, you were back to looking at Steve and smiling at him and kissing his cheek or jaw or nose before eagerly finding his lips. 

Neither of you noticed when the credits started rolling. Your heads were against one of the pillows and legs were tangled beneath the two blankets that were over you both. One of your hands found home in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, and one of his hands had snaked underneath the hoodie and was squeezing your waist. 

You pulled back from the kiss, mainly to catch your breath, and Steve’s mouth immediately began attacking your jaw and then neck. You had to bite your lip for a second to keep from letting out any noise. “We’re probably giving your neighbors a very good show right now.” 

You felt Steve let out a laugh against your skin. “It’s a good thing that there are old married couples on both sides, so they’re all probably in bed asleep by now.”

You hummed in response. “Mm, that’s very good to know.”

You were about to pull back a bit so that you could then lean in and kiss him again, but then you managed to realize something and you turned your head toward the projector screen. “The movie’s over.”

“Oh,” Steve looked at the final credit screen that the movie ended on. “Good thing we’ve seen it before because I don’t think we watched any of it tonight.” 

You smiled at him. “Your face made it really hard to pay attention to the movie. I think we’ll need to go back to watching stuff on the phone in order for us to actually watch a movie.” 

“Never gonna happen,” He said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I don’t have my phone on me, but I think it’s probably almost ten. What time do I need to get you home?”

“Oliver luckily didn’t give me a curfew,” You jokingly answered, which made a soft laugh fall from Steve’s lips. “But, seriously, Natalie told me that she’s fine with staying at the house as long as I need. For some reason, she really likes sleeping in the guest room once Oliver’s in bed. Even though tonight he wants to try and stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop, so I don’t know when he’ll actually end up in bed.”

“Maddie’s trying to do the same thing at my parent’s house, but she’ll probably fall asleep before eleven, if she’s not already,” He said and that made you smile because you were pretty sure the same thing would happen with Oliver. Steve’s hand then found yours beneath the blanket and gave it a light squeeze. “So, we should…” 

“We should go inside,” You finished for him and quickly pressed a kiss to his nose before detangling yourself from him and standing up. “I can help you clean up all of this first if you want.”

“I’ll do it in the morning,” He said and you nodded at that as he stood up too.  

You didn’t mind leaving your shoes and coat outside for the time being, but you grabbed your phone from your purse so that you could check it and make sure that everything was going okay with Oliver. You immediately saw that Natalie texted you almost thirty minutes ago telling you that he fell asleep, which made you laugh a bit. You quickly texted something back to her and then placed your phone down on Steve’s kitchen island when you walked through the sliding doors that led from the backyard to the kitchen. 

Steve walked over to where you were leaning against the island. He slipped his hands underneath the hoodie of his that you were still wearing so that he could grab your hips, and your arms came up to lazily circle his neck. He was the one who initiated the kiss that time around.

How comfortable and okay you were right then and how completely comfortable you had been the entire night was something that slightly surprised you as much as it made you feel so fucking happy. It was hard not to recognize that this was the first time in a long time that you felt this way— and that should’ve made things feel at least a little scary; like they would’ve felt just a few weeks ago— but instead that realization gave you a small burst of confidence in that moment.

You pulled back a bit, eyes still shut and lips lightly brushing his. “Y’know, I really love that we’re already at your house.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded, eyes opening and then you stepped away from him and slipped your hand into his. You started leading him toward the stairs and you wondered if it was entirely obvious that you were heading to his bedroom. You already knew where it was because you had accidentally found it the first time you and Oliver came over for a playdate— you had been looking for the bathroom and mistakenly chose the door on the left instead of the right. “It makes this part a lot easier.” 

“What’s this part?” He asked and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to him when you were in front of his closed door. You gave him a look that said everything— everything you wanted from him right then and everything you wanted to give him— before reaching up and softly kissing his cheek. 

It was dark when you both walked into his bedroom and Steve flicked on the small lamp that was sitting on his nightstand. You were lingering by the foot of the bed and he once again closed all of the space between you two, his hands found the hem of the hoodie and immediately pushed it up and off of you. He slowed down when his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. A questioning look that asked “Is this okay?” crossed his face, and you quickly nodded. Somehow the minor action sent an inadvertent shiver down your spine— Steve letting the red material fall to the floor and leaving you in just your strapless bra and underwear before softly pushing you down so that you were sitting on the bed. You started helping him unbutton his shirt so that he could push it off of his shoulders and let it hit the floor as well. 

Your hands then found his belt buckle, fumbling around with it and then proceeding to unbutton his pants and snake your right hand within them. Steve’s groan was loud and it sent a chill through your body as you touched him and felt him grow stiffer in his boxers due to all of your soft, teasing strokes. 

After just a moment, he reached for your hand, halting your movements, and then leaned down to kiss you, removing his pants in the process. Once he was left in just his navy blue boxers you maneuvered upward so that your head was hitting one of his pillows at the top of the bed and he settled on top of you between your now spread legs.

Steve’s lips brushed against your forehead and then cheek before he pulled back and simply looked at you. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 

You didn’t feel an ounce of nervousness under his gaze, which said and told you so much, and it actually felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest. 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” You whispered, tilting your head upward a bit so that your lips could meet his in a quick kiss. 

When your bra was discarded on the floor somewhere along with your underwear, you found yourself begging for him. Soft “pleases” fell from your lips as he teased you— softly rubbing your nipple in small circles and only stroking your inner thighs with the most featherlight of touches, getting so close to where you wanted him most. And feeling his hard length, which was still covered by his boxers, pressing against you only made your want grow more. You knew for a fact that you were making the worst mess against his comforter because of how much you were dripping for him.  

“Steve,” You let out a soft sigh, eyes screwed shut. “I need you. Please.”

“Mhm, yeah, anything for you,” He said, moving away from you for a second. Your eyes opened and you immediately missed his warmth enveloping you completely. He was ridding himself of his boxers and then began rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom. 

You were smiling at him when he settled back on top of you and he gave you a small smile back. 

“You sure this is okay?” He asked, and you could hear the sudden shyness take over his voice. 

“Yes, I promise. I want this. I want you,” You told him, nodding profusely. He needed that reassurance and you completely understood why. Your voice was soft as you said your next words. “You sure this is okay?”

He pressed the softest kiss against your forehead. “So much better than okay.” 

For some reason, those simple words made your heart flutter wildly in your chest. He looked down for a second, lining his cock up with your soaked entrance, and then his eyes met yours again as he slowly pushed himself inside of you. 

“Fuck,” You wanted so badly to shut your eyes, but you also didn’t want to break his gaze. 

There was so much shared in the dreamy and lust-filled look you two were holding. You were hit with the sudden need to never have this to end. Not just the sex, but simply being with Steve— talking, laughing, playfully arguing as you debated random shit that didn’t matter. You wanted all of that with him for as long as you could have it. 

It was too early to even truly entertain the potential of a forever with him, but it was something that could happen and it was hard not to let your mind wander for a bit. 

You could see it all, and so easily too— your lives blending and becoming so deeply intertwined. You didn’t expect yourself to fall so goddamn hard for him so quickly, but it felt nice feeling so entirely certain about it all. 

“What are you thinking about, honey?” Steve whispered, breaking through your thoughts and eyes still looking so deeply into yours. He was still moving slowly but was also hitting so deeply inside of you with every languid thrust that it elicited the softest whines and mewls from you. 

“Everything,” You told him honestly, but didn’t explain further because you were then shutting your eyes and letting your mind turn to mush. A particularly hard thrust had your back arching off the bed and a gasp falling from your lips. “Shit, yes, right there.”

“I think about everything with you all the time,” Steve said, lips finding yours and swallowing the loud moans you let out upon hearing his words— right then, that was the only way that you could verbalize how much you loved hearing him say that. He started moving quicker, losing control inside of you, which you didn’t mind in the slightest because it only made you wetter. “I want it all so badly.”

You could feel yourself nodding at him, it still felt way too hard to open your eyes. “Me too.”

Your walls squeezed harshly around his cock when one of his hands snaked down to find your clit, rubbing it in tight circles with his thumb and almost immediately pushing you so close to the edge. 

“You gonna come for me, honey?” Steve asked with a groan and when you only mumbled out a barely coherent “yes” and “please,” he started circling your clit quicker before saying, “Do it. Come for me.”

It hit you so fucking hard. You were moaning loudly, practically screaming, as stars flooded your vision and your body almost immediately felt as if it was floating. How tightly you were squeezing Steve’s cock as you came only spurred on his own release, forehead dropping against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom. 

Your lips haphazardly found his in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your breathing returned mostly to normal.  His weight crushed you in the most peaceful way possible before he was slipping out of you and then pulling your back flush against his chest. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but with Steve’s arms around you in the most comforting way, you did almost immediately. 

When you woke up, it had barely been an hour and the only reason you knew that was because the TV was now on and the live New Year’s Eve special was playing. You got up to go to the bathroom and then slipped on Steve’s white button-up shirt, only buttoning a few of the buttons, before getting back in bed. 

“Hi,” You whispered, head settling against his chest and his arms immediately came up to circle around you. 

“Hey,” He whispered back and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You draped your leg over his hips to push yourself even closer to him. “Ten minutes to midnight. Should I take you home after?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” You answered softly. “I wish I could stay.”

“Me too,” Steve said as one of his hands started lightly rubbing up and down against the curve of your hip. “One day, though.”

You smiled at that, tilting your head up a bit and kissing his jaw. “I can’t wait for that.”

Years down the road you’d both think back to this moment. 

When you’re laying in bed together in the house that you two moved into just weeks earlier, something bigger that would better fit your growing family. Oliver and Madeline would be fast asleep in their rooms down the hall from yours and their newborn sister would only be a few feet away from you and Steve, finally asleep in her bassinet. 

You’d be the one to bring up this night— how it was both the start of something and the end of something else— and he’d smile at you immediately and start absentmindedly playing with the ring on your finger. How it had been the start of a relationship that neither of you truly saw coming and how it brought a slow but steady end to the fears that both of you had. 

Steve would softly say that even though he’d been a little scared to tell you that night, he had known then— as he was dropping you off at your house close to one in the morning and softly kissing you goodnight on your doorstep— that he wanted to be with you forever. And you’d tell him that you had felt the exact same way, that you even ended up dreaming about it all that night like a lovesick teenager. 

That would make him kiss you, slowly and tenderly; something that never failed to make your head feel dizzy. 

Before you and him fell asleep too, just for a few hours before Luna woke both of you up, you would tell Steve that you were glad that Oliver and Madeline asked to have a playdate during that oddly warm day in September four years ago because that simple thing changed everything between you two. Your eyes would already be shut as you sleepily whispered how much you loved him and he’d smile while telling you that he loved you too. He’d then laugh a bit and say that it was the sleep deprivation making you extra sentimental right then but he was completely okay with that. His soft and sweet words of, “I’m also so glad that those playdates changed everything,” would be the last thing you remember hearing before you fully fell asleep, and it put the softest smile on your face.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[bonewaryreblogs]

I finally have my own Trolls AU! :D

I'm basically reversing the movie order, so Branch has to go deal with family matters first by saving Floyd, then deal with the Rockpocalypse and foreign matters, and finally cement himself as Poppy's right hand man by saving everyone from the bergens.

I can't decide if I want to get rid of the vacaytioners or not, I didn't really care for them, but this is what I have up til then!

Also I made a poll asking for thoughts about the vacaytioners.

-1

About 15 years after the pop trolls fled the Troll Tree, Branch (now 20) has decided his bunker is basically finished, it just needs to be stocked up, and accidentally lets this slip to Poppy. She decides this is a perfect opportunity to throw Branch a party and maybe get him to invest in the rest of the community now that his own place is set up and he can feel safe. We follow Poppy as she tries to get everyone excited for Branch’s accomplishment but no one seems terribly interested; we get flashbacks of some less-than-pleasant interactions the village has had with Branch over the years to explain their indifference.

Poppy’s group of friends (Creek 17, Guy Diamond 17, Biggie 16, Poppy 15, Satin and Chanille 15, DJ Suki 15, Cooper 14, and Smidge 13) are equally unsure, recognizing that Branch doesn’t like surprises, loud noises, sugary sweets, glitter… basically everything they associate with parties, but especially music. They try to convince Poppy to drop it but she refuses, deciding to throw him a party of two; she has gotten him to have some more-or-less friendly interactions when it’s just the two of them, so maybe this was for the best.

-2

Poppy manages to track Branch down while he’s doing chores that require him to be out of the bunker; she would often just follow him around while he does these, and even help him sometimes, or at least listen while he explains what he’s doing and why. This time she convinces him to join her for a lunch picnic and we get to see that Branch isn’t quite how the villagers described him, at least not with Poppy.

Then her friends decide to show up, feeling bad for abandoning Poppy’s idea earlier, and all hell breaks loose as they try to throw a party the only way they know how; big, loud, and crazy. Branch chews them out and is about to storm off when a large critter bursts into the clearing, causing everyone but Branch to panic. Branch jumps in front of the group protectively before he leads the critter to a nearby trap he'd set (the one he’d been working on while Poppy was convincing him to have lunch) and everyone is super impressed.

Then, out of the critter pops another troll!

-3

John Dory comes in like a wrecking ball, introducing himself as Branch’s big brother, which surprises everyone; they had no idea Branch had a brother! “Uh, yeah, Branch has four brothers; you never told your friends about us?” “We’re not exactly friends. And we’re not exactly family after you all abandoned me. How did you even find me?” JD says he’s been basically wandering around to different troll villages since he got Floyd’s note and was drawn by the sounds of a party (“I knew it would attract predators.”). Which reminds him, Floyd is trapped and needs their help! John Dory shows Branch the note and tells the group how he went to Mount Rageous to scope the place out on his own and confirmed (among other things) that Floyd was indeed being held against his will, in a diamond container… And they both know there’s only one thing strong enough to shatter diamond.

The Perfect Family Harmony.

There are mixed feelings in the group as Branch frees Rhonda the Armadillo Bus (cousins of the caterbuses the pop trolls already use). If there was a brother Branch would be willing to go save, it was Floyd; as much as he hated the idea of leaving the relative safety of Troll Village, he was going. Creek thought that leaving Troll Village was a terrible idea; they have no proof beyond this strange troll’s word, and being related to Branch isn’t exactly a good selling point. Poppy was absolutely going, and may have even if Branch wasn’t. The rest of the group hemmed and hawed, mostly agreeing with Creek that this seemed like something to leave to the adults, or some other kind of authority. The group of would-be adventurers is at least convinced to talk to King Peppy about it first, and rest overnight before getting back on the road.

Everyone piles into Rhonda and JD shows off while endearing himself to Poppy’s friends. Among other things, he reveals the brothers were in a band called BroZone, which only serves to annoy Branch further. Several of the friends recognize the name but are confused; Branch doesn’t sing so he must not have been in the band. Nope, Bitty B had the voice of an angel and a falsetto made of gold; an absolute natural on stage! “And yet it still wasn’t enough to keep you all around, so what does that say about the rest of me?” JD cringes hard at this, saved by another friend asking who wrote a few of their favorite songs. Creek decides that, if he annoys Branch this much, JD must be an ok troll, despite his earlier misgivings. This annoys Branch even more.

-4

They eventually get to Peppy’s pod and Branch manages to keep Poppy’s friends out, leaving only him, JD, Princess Poppy, and King Peppy to talk. Once brought up to speed, Peppy offers whatever supplies Branch and John Dory think they might need to save their brother, but recognizes he couldn't risk the safety of any of his other subjects to help them more than that. He also forbids Poppy from going but she argues that she’s old enough to choose how to help her soon-to-be subjects, which still includes Branch, and eventually storms out.

JD happily stocks up on supplies, showing off Rhonda to everyone who would give him the time of day but also wouldn’t let Branch leave his side. The pair get some mixed responses, due to Branch’s reputation as well as mistrust for the large critter herself, but John Dory is nothing if not charismatic and with Peppy’s stamp of approval as well as hearing about Floyd, the villagers give the pair whatever they ask for.

There’s probably a musical number in here somewhere, maybe Poppy and friends trying to help get JD supplies.

-5

Getting close to evening now, JD asks which pod is Branch’s, only to be told Branch doesn’t live in a pod; he lives in a bunker, away from the village. This concerns JD slightly but he hides it behind enthusiasm, wanting to see Branch’s bunker; it sounds impressive. Branch hesitates, at first telling JD he can just spend the night in Rhonda like he’s used to, but caves with some not-so-subtle praise; he really does want to show off what he’s made. He’s very proud of his bunker.

“Once it’s fully stocked, it’ll hold enough supplies to last me 10 years; 11 if I’m willing to store and drink my own sweat. Which I am! They all said I was crazy, huh? Well, when they find us, who’s going to be crazy? Me! Crazy prepared.” Branch starts going overboard, explaining the complex inventory system he’ll be using, what goes where and why, and John Dory is impressed, overwhelmed, and somewhat scared of how well thought out this plan is. “I’ll admit, I didn’t retain most of that, but it is damn impressive. You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this.” Maybe a little too much thought…

JD tries to ask about Branch’s colors but chickens out when Branch bristles, instead saying he would actually like to sleep with Rhonda and he’ll see Branch in the morning. Branch doesn’t sleep well that night. (Visions of foreshadowing? Family flashback? Sneak peak of Floyd?)

-6

Morning comes and Branch is up bright and early, ready to brainstorm where their brothers might be. He knocks on the door of the sleeping armadillo bus, which opens to show a John Dory that hadn’t slept a wink, instead making a clue board with purple and yellow strings connecting various objects and scrawled notes. Appreciating the effort, Branch attentively listens as JD starts to explain his thought process but Branch quickly realizes the board is just as much of a mess as it looked. Branch takes over, going through things, asking what they were/meant, when/where he found them, and eventually Branch finds a postcard among the mess; there’s no name, no return address, no note, just a picture of an island with “Wish you were here" written in neon lettering in the sky. JD is convinced it's from Spruce, living on an island somewhere. Branch is dubious but with nothing better to go on, they head for the coastline to find the pictured island while they think of other options.

JD tries to bring up Branch’s color again but gives up pretty quickly; it’s obviously a sore subject. Instead, he starts telling tales about his travels just to fill the dead air and Poppy makes a comment. Suddenly realizing she’s there, both brothers freak out; it turns out she snuck into Rhonda while Branch was showing JD the bunker, hiding until she was sure they were well on their way (all three are now in the back living space while Rhonda is on a sort of auto pilot heading to the east coastline). They are both upset, Branch more than JD, but she begs them to not turn back; they’d lose a whole day of travel if they did and she really, really wants to go with them! JD is won over pretty easily but Branch is still salty. He goes up to the front just in time to see an island with the words “Wish you were here” floating in the sky above it. Exasperated, he tells the others.

Rhonda dives off a cliff into the water, swimming towards the island.

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

[cal-kestis]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

(Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Gif by @pedropcl​ [original gifset]

Summary: Two years after resigning from the DEA, Javi finds himself in Los Angeles, haunted by glares of gunshots and blood-stained hands. He’d succumbed to the idea that he’d never have peace — doesn’t deserve it after everything he did in Colombia. Then, she moves in next door and maybe, he thinks, things could be different. “I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.” Word Count: 4,357 A/N: A Reader-insert one-shot with a nameless female reader. No “Y/N” or "you," but the reader can be anyone. Inspired heavily by Taylor Swift’s “Peace.” How many TS references can you find? Lol. Tags: Fluff, Angst (with a happy ending), Mentions of death (but no one dies, I promise), Alcohol, Cigarettes

[Read on AO3]

The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me... All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret... Would it be enough, if I could never give you peace? — Taylor Swift, Peace —

When Javier Peña handed in his DEA badge and gun two years ago, he knew he couldn’t stay in Texas. Not forever.

Texas held too many familiar faces, old friends calling him a hero when he felt like a villain. It held too many ties to an old version of himself he’d rather not remember… muddied images of him with a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise. No, he couldn’t stay. Not even for his father.

So, Javier Peña and the unwelcomed overcast of his nightmares found a one-bedroom apartment in sunny Los Angeles.

In time, he realized he needed the city: constant motion, endless traffic, and hoards of busy people who would never remember his face. He could blend in. He could be alone.

He could have a clean slate.

But each night, glares of gunshots flashed behind his eyelids and invisible bloodstains marred his calloused palms as if to remind him:

He could never have peace.

Then, she moved in next door.

The first time he saw her, he only caught a glimpse. She and her boyfriend, he assumed, held towering stacks of brown boxes in front of their faces — sweating as they lugged the dusty weight into the empty space.

For a moment, he considered offering some neighborly help but decided against it — When have you ever cared about being a good neighbor, Javi? — closing himself in his quiet apartment with a glass of whiskey.

The second time he saw her, she came knocking on his door the next night.

“Hi, neighbor,” she smiled brilliantly. And for a split second, he swore he felt something foreign flutter in his stomach, but dismissed it as the after-effects of spoiled dinner. “I just moved in next door and wanted to introduce myself.”

He could not take his eyes off her. His gaze stayed glued to a small bead of sweat trailing a slow path down from her hairline, where she’d pulled it back with a makeshift scarf-headband. The droplet slipped down her cheekbone, over a smudge of dust that had settled in from her moving boxes. It drifted down the curve of her jaw, dipping into the slope of her neck until finally hiding away below her tank top. And by some miracle, she only needed to repeat her name for him once before he came out of the trance.

“Sorry.” He gulped, removing the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Javier.”

He extended his hand and she met him halfway. Soft. So soft.

“Good to meet you, Javier.” She smiled again. Flutter. “I’m sure you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, she swiftly turned on her heel to walk the few steps back to her door, bare feet strutting off, flaunting her daisy dukes, and — God help him, he’s a man and she’s beautiful — he stared.

The nail in the coffin?

When she opened her door and gave him one last smile over her shoulder, she winked.

No, he could never have peace.

—

After that, he hardly ever sees her.

Part of him feels relieved, unduly wary of the strange flutter he’d feel just thinking of her name. The other part, the traitorously curious part, dreams of catching another glimpse of her glistening skin or a quarter note of her honeyed voice. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he finds himself often wondering if her boyfriend gets to enjoy her sun rays and melodies. Lucky bastard.

He blames his roaming thoughts on the fact that it’s… been a while.

This is what you wanted, he’d remind himself when he’d wake to an empty bed — a stark contrast to his time in Colombia. This is the way things should be.

Just when he starts to believe those words, he finds her crumpled on the floor in front of her apartment — the contents of her purse strewn across the hardwood beside her, palms pressed firmly against her eyes. One tiny sniffle and a tremble of her shoulders, and he melts into a puddle beneath her muddy sneakers.

“Hey,” he whispers tentatively, voice raspy with cigarette smoke.

She jolts at the sound, immediately wiping her face with her sleeves and plastering on a saccharine smile.

“Javier,” she tries to say, but her voice breaks on the vowels. “Sorry, I was just— rough day. And to top it off, I think I left my keys inside. I tried Jerry but no luck.”

“Jerry’s a shit landlord,” he sighs, earning a nod from her. He takes out an old, faded receipt from his pocket and kneels in front of her, finding a pen amongst her spilled belongings. “Try this number. He’s usually fast. Can get you back in your apartment tonight.”

He hands her the scribbled receipt and she takes it with a real smile, albeit small. “Thank you, Javier.”

He nods, a tiny dimple forming in one tanned cheek, before getting up to unlock his apartment. The door clicks but he stands there for a moment longer, listening to her waning sniffles as she throws her things back into her bag. His eyes screw shut tightly, a silent war waging behind his forehead, his fingertips feebly trying to rub it away.

He sighs long and heavy when he realizes which part of him has won.

“Would you... like to come inside my place while you wait?” He mutters, mainly to the floorboards. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“Okay.” Her smile is warm like the sun, despite the cloud of tears still glazed over her eyes. “But you don’t strike me as a cream and sugar kind of guy.”

“No,” he admits with an amused smirk. “But I’ve got some old whiskey, older milk, and a phone you can use, toll-free.”

“Thanks, Javier,” she sniffles. “Coffee sounds nice. But hold the booze and tainted milk.”

And that’s how she ends up in his apartment, sitting at his small dining table, slowly sipping from his coffee mug, using his landline to call the locksmith.

Maybe it’s the caffeine or the three (stolen) pink packets of sugar she found in her purse (“It’s not stealing. Diners offer dozens of them in cute little boxes, I mean practically gift-wrapped, and I modestly accepted three.”), but coffee gets her talking the way alcohol coaxes even the darkest secrets from iron-barred lips. She just broke up with her boyfriend. Or he broke up with her — found some younger, hotter-than-her aspiring actress in Hollywood and left her in the dust of the boxes she’d just unpacked.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “You’ve been so nice. Really, Neighbor of the Year,” she laughs, but he thinks it sounds off. He wants to hear the real thing. “And here I am, taking up your space, drinking your coffee, and dumping all my problems on the table. Tell me if I’m talking too much, Javier. I tend to—”

“Javi,” he says, furrowing his brows as if mildly stunned by the two syllables he just spoke. She looks confused. “You can... call me Javi, for short. And I don’t mind listening.”

“Javi,” she tests the name on her tongue, smiles. His stomach flutters. “A good name for a good guy.”

The argument dies on his tongue the minute he thinks it, even though she’s horribly, terribly wrong.

Sometimes you gotta do bad things to catch bad people.

If she knew...

“I should be out of your hair in 20 minutes anyway,” she says, breaking him out of his dark reverie. “Locksmith’s on his way.”

When she finally gets back into her own apartment, Javi jostles her doorknob, double-checks the lock, and knocks on wood for good measure.

“Find your keys?”

“Got ‘em!” She chirps, jingling her lost keys. “I’m gonna have to memorize that number.”

“I’m next door, too, if you ever need anything.”

“Me too. I can lend you some sugar for your sad-man, bitter coffee,” she jokes. “Thanks again, Javi.”

He sends her a tight-lipped smile and a short nod, a familiar weight settling in his chest as he turns back to his lonely apartment.

“Would you like to come in for dinner?” She asks, quiet and suddenly timid. “I’m no chef, but I’ve never made a spaghetti I couldn’t tolerate.”

He opens his mouth to refuse but she beats him to the punch. “It’s the least I can do after you helped me out. Please?”

And it’s the way she asks that gets him. The way “please” seems to fall from her lips like an unanswered prayer. He wonders, maybe she’s just as lonely as him.

So, he walks into her apartment, she smiles, and his stomach flips.

—

Months pass by with this new routine. He joins her for dinner at least once a week, if their schedules allow. If not at the local diner where she infamously loots sugar, it’s usually at her place. For one thing, although it’s usually pasta, she tends to have more appetizing (read: edible) groceries stocked up than him. But if he’s being honest, something about her apartment just feels more like… a home.

Framed smiles of her and her loved ones line the walls. With each visit, he finds himself studying a new one, imagining the story behind each snapshot. (He noticed after their first dinner, she’d thrown out the photos of her ex, replacing them with Polaroids of the city.) Piles of pillows stack up neatly on her couch, vibrant hues and patterns decorating the space. He adores the soft waves of music always floating around her space. She plays a different record each time, but somehow, each one compliments the sweet tones of her voice perfectly.

Her place feels brighter than his too, and he’s not sure if it’s the east-facing windows or if it’s just her.

Soon, he doesn’t need to decode the photos on the walls anymore. She tells him more than she’s told anyone before — about her hometown, her family, what she studied in college, her travels, her favorite books, her irrational fears, her dreams.

He tells her considerably less, especially when it comes to his time in Colombia.

For now, she doesn’t mind. She likes the way he watches her when she talks — brown eyes soft and warm, brows pinched together as he takes in each word, the ghost of a grin tugging at one corner of his lips when she gestures dramatically.

He realizes, one night after dinner, he comes home smiling now. And he thinks the nightmares have started dwindling, ever since that first dinner.

Maybe, he lets himself imagine. Things could be different.

—

He calls for you over and over, shouting until his throat burns and the echo of his frantic voice pounds in his ears.  

“Where are you?” He screams.  

The narrow hallway is dark, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He crushes his body into the hard wall, arms sliding roughly against cold brick as he tries to keep himself concealed. The gun in his hand feels icy and impossibly heavy, and his arms tremble as they lift the weapon higher, rounding the corner.

“Llegas tarde, Peña,” a deep, gravelly voice sneers. “You’re too late.”

“Tómame!” Javier yells. “Tómame en su lugar.”

“You would die for her?” The voice chuckles. “Llegas tarde.”

The voice’s shadow moves, revealing a smaller shadow crumpled on the floor — lifeless.

“Javier! Javier!” A distant voice chants, accusing him. Boom! Blaming him. Boom!

“Javier!” Boom!

The pounding sound wakes him up with a jolt, and his sweat-slicked chest rapidly rises and falls as he reaches for the gun inside his bedside table.

Slowly, Javier creeps to the front door where the loud pounding started. But when he peers into the peephole, he only finds her — looking as tired and distressed as he feels. A wave of relief floods through his overheated body.

She’s wrapped up in a blanket, a worried look wrinkling her forehead.

He puts his gun down in a drawer and lets her in.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

“What’s wrong?” He demands, suddenly worried about why she’d be waking him this early.

“You tell me,” she says, frown lines still etched by her eyes — mirroring his own tired marks. “I heard you yelling. I was worried, Javi.”

“It was...” he starts, squinting as the images flash in his mind again. “Just a dream.”

It only takes one glance into his eyes for her to reach out to him, pulling him in by his neck until he nuzzles into hers.

He breathes her in, holds her like he’s not sure she’s real, like she might be gone tomorrow. “It was just a dream,” he echoes, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

“It was just a dream,” she repeats after him.

She pulls him by his hand toward his couch, sitting down before patting the space beside her. And just this once, he allows himself to let his head rest in her lap, lets her drape her fuzzy blanket over him, lets her soft fingers draw slow circles in his hair, lets her lull him to sleep with mumbled whispers he can’t quite make out, and lets her ward off the lurking darkness like a nightlight.

He’s asleep before he can hear the quiet secret that spills from her lips.

“I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.”

She comes over to his apartment more frequently after that. Whether to bring him dinner or just sit on his couch in comfortable silence, she doesn’t like to leave him alone.

And maybe, she’d rather not be alone either.

—

He doesn’t remember how she convinced him, but here he is... sitting at a crowded bar drinking water, watching his tipsy neighbor bouncing alone on the small dance floor.

Every so often, some cocky drunk comes up to put his hands on her waist and tries to dance with her, but she plasters on a faux smile and shakes her head at them, muttering something while nodding in Javier’s direction. Each time, they sulk away and he chuckles.

Finally, she bounces over to him, tugging at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Dance with me, Javi. Please,” she draws out the word, an octave higher than normal.

And despite himself, he follows her voice like a sailor enthralled by a siren’s song.

She puts her arms around his neck, swaying her body against his. And then she shouts over the music, “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

And the heart on his sleeve falls straight to the floor, clanging loudly in his ears like metal.

‘Friends’ is more than you deserve, he reminds himself.

But then she continues, resting her head against his chest, her index finger coming up to tap a tantalizingly slow beat over his collarbone. “Good friends,” she sighs, lifting her gaze until her chin digs into his heart, her lips just inches from his. “Really… good… friends.”

She’s kissing him before he can even process the feeling. And despite his better judgment, he lets her. She’s everything warm and soft and good, with just a hint of alcohol — and he’s what you get when you turn those words upside down, jumble the letters, and crumple the paper into a jagged ball. But he craves the way her curves somehow fit perfectly against his cold, shattered edges. And he knows he shouldn’t.

So, when he feels her tongue trace along the seam of his mouth, he gently pulls away, hands rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders.

“You’ve had too much to drink, cariño,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” she whispers, smiling with half-lidded eyes, drawing her finger across his mustache then below his ever-pouting lip.

She’s passed out in his car by the time they’re back home. When he unlocks her apartment door for her, she stays latched onto his arm as he turns to leave.

“Stay,” she whispers.

“I—”

“Please?” She asks, in that way he knows he can’t fight. “I don’t want to be alone.”

And just like that, the door closes behind him and he stays.

He finds her an oversized shirt to change into, helps her wipe the smudged mascara off her face, and holds her until the sun rises.

When she wakes, the space beside her is empty but warm and indented, the shape of his body lingering in the sheets. A full glass of water, ibuprofen, and the phantom taste of Javi’s lips are the only other traces of her really… good... friend.

—

He’s not avoiding her… per se. But it’s a long, lonely week later when he sees her again, on an uncharacteristically rainy Sunday outside their apartment building.

“I just got home,” she blurts after standing there dumbfounded for a good minute. She nods to the soaked brown paper bags in her arms. “Groceries. Uh, obviously. Were you...?”

“Forgot my umbrella,” he answers.

“Same,” she chuckles awkwardly, droplets hanging on her lashes and the ends of her hair, only partially covered by her hood. “Obviously.”

“Here, let me help you.” He takes the bags from her, keeping the door open with his foot as he waits for her to head inside.

“Thanks, Javi-er.”

He follows her upstairs silently, his wet, squeaking shoes punctuating each slow and heavy step.

“I can—”

“Let me just—”

They fumble and dance around each other in her doorway as he sets her bags in her apartment. And, as if to torture herself, she decides to stand under her door frame when he leaves to grab his umbrella, waiting the longest minute of her life for him with a forced smile.

He waves his umbrella at her after locking his door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

He nods and walks back down the stairs.

“Javier, wait.”

He pauses, his back still facing her, drenched shoes balanced on two different steps.

“Can we talk?” She hates the way her voice sounds when she asks, tinny and trembling. Clearing her throat, she clarifies, “About what happened... at the bar?”

He sighs, screwing his eyes shut tight and rubbing his forehead.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, low and barely audible as the rain starts picking up outside. And he walks away.

She’s stunned still, watching as his figure shrinks with each step he takes away from her. He’s already out of the building by the time frustration fuels her feet to follow him into the rain.

“Like hell there’s nothing to talk about,” she yells over the downpour, hair quickly sticking flat to her face. “Javi, we kissed!”

“You were drunk,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear, still walking.

“I wasn’t drunk,” she argues to his back, remembering with perfect clarity exactly how his lips felt on hers. “Just a bit braver. Javi, stop! Look at me. Please.”

And like clockwork, he turns slowly but doesn’t move any closer.

So, she closes the distance to stand beside him under his umbrella, taking in his features without the obscurity of rain.

“What are you running from?” She wonders, reaching for his fidgeting hand. “I would never hurt you. I—”

The line between his brows looks deeper than usual, as if they’d been stuck in that pinched position for weeks. Shadows lay in rings beneath his eyes, accompanied by smaller lines that carry untold stories she hopes he’ll entrust her with someday. His mouth is parted just slightly, as if to say something he knows could change everything.

And it does.

“I have to go.”

Her hands are empty and wet when he leaves. And the rain buries his parting words into the pavement.

I don’t want to hurt you.

—

She doesn’t hear from him for two weeks. Doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him.

The rain sticks around longer than usual for Los Angeles, making her apartment feel cold and gloomy. But maybe, it’s just missing him as much as she is.

Then, while she’s folding her laundry one night, she hears his door rattle and practically bolts to her own. He’s there. Keys in hand, rolling luggage in the other, hair tousled like he’s been pulling at it with his fingers. He looks at her when she opens her door, just for a beat too long, before hiding away in his apartment.

She sighs, closing her door in defeat.

But just as she starts getting ready for bed, she hears two knocks at her door, heart beating rapidly as she slowly makes her way to open it.

“Hi, neighbor,” he greets her softly, and the sound of his voice after so long without it nearly brings her to tears.

��Where did you go?” She asks. But she really means, Why did you leave?

“Texas,” he says. “I... needed to see my dad.” But he really means, I was scared.

“Oh.”

“Can I...” he mutters. “Can I come in please?”

She hesitates for only a second before stepping aside and he looks around like he hasn’t seen the inside of her apartment hundreds of times already.

He stops near her bedroom, where a new picture hangs proudly: a goofy, blurry photo of him stashing three pink packets of sugar in his shirt pocket.

“It’s the only photo you’ve let me take of you,” she says quietly, standing next to him with a wistful smile on her face. “I miss our diner dates.” But she really means, I miss you.

He doesn’t respond, just silently walks to her couch and sits, fingers rubbing circles into his forehead.

Minutes roll by slowly as she watches him from the other side of the room, battling with some invisible hand covering his mouth, holding on until the end to keep the words locked up.

“I’m not a good man,” he whispers, so softly she almost doesn’t hear it. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of... back in Colombia. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell you. I think a part of me is still there, fighting some unwinnable war. Hell, even before Colombia, I—”

Muddied images of a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise flash in his mind.

“Fuck. I can’t shake it,” he says, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes, waving the invisible iron shackles on his wrists to show her. “Any of it. The nightmares...” He recalls her shadowy body and a dark, menacing voice. “They’ve followed me for years. I—” he looks at her, eyes darting across her face. “I could never give you peace.”

His head hangs low and a wayward curl brushes against his forehead. Despite how much space he takes up on her couch, he looks so small, defeated —  the weight of his past crushing him into this tiny, torn, crumpled-up piece of paper covered in red-inked, scratched-out sentences.

“Javi,” she whispers, but he doesn’t meet her eyes. So, she crosses the room and kneels in front of him, her palms reaching for his cheeks and lifting his gaze to hers. “Javi, who said anything about peace?”

The wrinkles deepen between his brows as he studies her, tries to understand what she means in the cloudy orbs of her eyes.

“The past is the past. We’ve all done things we can’t speak of. And sometimes at night, we live it all again. God knows I’m far from perfect. But I know you’re a good man, Javi. I see you,” she tells him, stroking the curves of his cheekbones with her thumbs.

“I’m not—”

“Do you trust me?” She interrupts his argument. He stares at her, blinks, before nodding once.

“Then trust what I’m saying. You’re not perfect. But you’re good.”

His eyes close as soon as she sees water beginning to pool behind his lashes.

“I’m not asking for peace. As long as I get to be with you, it would be enough.”

And then his lips are crashing into hers, pulling her into his lap until he’s covered in her. The sound he makes when they touch is devastatingly beautiful, like she’s a balm soothing his freshest wounds and healing his oldest scars. It feels like his entire body has exhaled — lungs deflated, bones liquified, mind released from a decades-old straitjacket. If not for gravity, he could float from the way his stomach is fluttering. His shoulders lower and he sighs as if he’d been holding his breath for his entire life until this moment.

He’s drowning in her, submerged to the top of his head. But he can finally breathe.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he whispers into her skin. “I’m sorry I left, cariño,” he kisses just below her ear. “My dad said I was the biggest asshole on the planet for leaving. I’m sorry, baby. So sorry,” he licks the seam of her lips.

“Mi alma, you have no idea,” he sighs when she parts her lips for him. “How much I love you.”

And she captures the words on her tongue, kissing him with a ferocity that says, Yes, I do.

“Want to know a secret?” She gasps when his lips trail down her neck. Her voice is barely a whisper, as feather-light as her fingertip skating across his shoulder.

He hums, a soft, lazy smile stretching his lips wide, so wide.

“I don’t think it’s possible,” she says, staring into his deep brown eyes. “That I’ll ever love anyone more than I love you, Javi.”

Her finger stops, retracted to shield herself after such a heavy confession. His eyes blink slowly, head lifting off the couch cushion.

He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at her, the softest smile on his face — his edges blurring into gentle curves in front of her very eyes.

“You’re it for me,” she finalizes.

And then they’re crashing into each other again and again and again.

End Notes: Look, it’s been almost 10 years since I sat in a Spanish class and watching Narcos only restored 3% of my limited vocabulary. Here’s what I got from Google Translate: “Llegas tarde.” = You’re too late. “Tómame!/ Tómame en su lugar.” = Take me!/ Take me instead. “Cariño” = Darling, honey “Mi alma” = My soul P.S. Please let me know if I missed any tags/triggers!

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 23 (Part 3)

Summary: Brooke and Eric have work to do.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2688

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 (Part 1) | Chapter 23 (Part 2)

Tags: @parabatai-winchester​

To say that Brooke and Sookie were having a hard time was an understatement. Sookie, after killing Debbie and having Pam turn Tara into a vampire, was judged and hated by all, and she had come back from work a wreck, and had dove into the cabinet were gran had always kept the alcohol. She turned on the stereo, and the loud music woke Brooklynne up.

She had spent the entire day in bed, and even though she kept waking up and kept having the worst lucid dreams, she stayed under the covers until way after sunset.

Not only the music was loud, but Brooke could hear her sister’s devastating thoughts. She had cast Bill away from her mind, she had enough humans judging her for her to worry about the traitorous bastard her vampire ex-boyfriend had turned out to be. She was so drunk she couldn’t hear Brooke think really, really, loudly that she wished she’d turn down the music a bit. Perhaps Sookie didn’t even know her sister was in her bedroom upstairs. She rarely were anymore.

Lafayette called. He had found Sookie’s car destroyed against a tree, and wanted to check on her. She was fine, apparently, she had jumped out of the car at the right time, and had even found it funny. She must be really drunk, Brooke thought.

She heard another train of thoughts approach the house, but his smell told her who he was before she could even hear anything. Sookie was waiting for another well deserved scolding from the werewolf but was surprised to hear Alcide had told Debbie’s parents some lie about how the Alpha from their pack had slept with her then killed her. Good. Because if Alcide had told the truth and Sookie had been sent to jail, not much would have been left of the werewolf after that night.

She tried to tune out the party that was going on downstairs, but it was either listening to Alcide and Sookie’s drunk thoughts about each other or thinking about her own issues. And she really didn’t want to think about Eric at the moment.

When Sookie and Alcide started to make out on their grandmother’s couch, she thought about leaving the house, not only to give them some privacy but also because she really didn’t want to hear any of it.

But then she heard his voice. Or rather, his thoughts. Bill was standing right there, outside of their house, watching the werewolf and the fairy take each other’s clothes off. A creep until the end. Brooklynne felt like fighting, and he had just given her a reason to beat his ass.

She sped out of her house, wearing nothing but a tight shirt and silk shorts and went straight to Bill whom she pushed away with supernatural strength. The King of Louisiana landed in the cemetery near the house.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as if he were still standing right in front of her.

It took a couple of seconds for him to get back on his feet and return to his spot.

“You know, I am still your King.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Bill sighed. “I get that you’re mad, but…”

“But nothing. Leave my sister alone.”

“I didn’t come here for Sookie.”

“What then?”

“I told him to meet us here,” Eric said as he appeared beside his King. “Granted, he could’ve picked a better spot.”

“Weren’t we supposed to go with Alcide?” she asked, remembering the plan. “He’s drunk now.”

“Clearly,” Eric mumbled.

“Let’s sober him up,” Bill said, and Brooke had no doubt he was more than happy to put a stop to the party.

***

Alcide took them to Doug, the employee that had found the hole in the parking lot. The werewolf had been smart not to ask about the obvious tension between the vampires while they drove in his van to the site.

Doug was a chubby man almost as tall as Alcide. His hair was longer, and so was his beard. He seemed shy and squeamish, and didn’t feel comfortable with whatever was happening. They had taken them to Russell’s former resting place where fresh cement had been poured to cover the hole. Brooklynne asked Doug to hold her hand and close his eyes and focus on that night, on what he saw. He had been glamoured by the vampire who had dug up Russell and it was harder for her to get any useful images from his mind.

“It’s a woman,” Brooke said. “She’s digging up Russell with her hands.”

Russell appeared like a bloody overgrown baby with no skin and the memory made Doug start to shake in fear.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks as if he were living it for the first time.

“Wait,” Brooke squeezed his hand harder as he tried to step away. “It’s Nora,” she breathed out.

“That’s not possible,” Eric said, trying to ignore Bill’s ‘I told you so’ look.

“She has the same necklace.”

“It could be any member of the Authority, then. Do you see Nora’s face?”

“No, just the necklace.”

“So we don’t know for certain it’s her,” Eric insisted. “It’s not Nora, it can’t be. She thought Russell was dead. She risked her life to free us.”

“Can I go now?” Doug asked.

But they were far from done.

The woman, whom according to Eric was not Nora, had Doug scoop Russell up like a baby and take him into an abandoned facility at the other end of town. That was their next destination.

In the van, Eric and Bill kept arguing about Nora while Brooklynne, helped by Doug’s blurry memory, led Alcide to Russell’s location.

“She’s a traitor and a liar, just like her brother,” Bill spat at the sheriff who showed fangs at the insult. Bill followed suit.

“Take that back,” Eric growled.

But the fight was cut short as Bill’s phone started ringing. Brooke couldn’t help but listen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, guys. It’s Molly. Remember me? Giving you a shout-out to let you know your countdown has started.”

“Our countdown?”

“Yeah, your iStakes are set to activate at dawn. Bummer, right?”

“There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No, I’m launching a test. Is your iStake glowing?”

Brooke took a look at the two vampires at the back of the van. Eric opened his jacket and a red light was coming from under his shirt, right where his heart was. iStake. It sounded stupid, but scary. That was what she had felt the previous night when he had held her against his chest. And that stupid but scary thing would kill Eric if they didn’t find Russell before the end of the night. She looked up at her maker with a heart and eyes full of worry. They wouldn’t have time after all. She wouldn’t have time to forgive him. And as he stared back at her, she saw in his eyes that it was okay. That he knew.

“Yeah, they’re glowing…”

“Cool. Means we’re good to go. Good luck. And if you don’t make it, it’s been rad serving you. Peace out.”

Brooklynne wanted to tear that Molly apart for the total indifference she showed at her maker’s True Death. But she had bigger problems. They all did.

Doug was reluctant to enter the building, but all Alcide wanted was for it to be over, so he dragged him in and started looking.

“Wolves have been here,” he sniffed.

“They come with Russell,” Bill said with a sigh, wondering which would kill him first, the iStake or a werewolf.

The building was an abandoned asylum. Brooklynne would find it ironic that Russell would hide here but she was too anxious to find it even remotely funny.

They dragged Doug, or rather Doug led them, through Brooke, down to the morgue, walking pass freshly severed hands and other dead bodies being eaten by rats.

“Well, at least we’re in the right place,” Eric said.

“The morgue,” Bill thought aloud as they walked pass the indications on the wall. “How convenient.”

Helped by a flashlight, Doug and Alcide followed the vampires into the darkness of the basement. Hearing, or perhaps sensing something Doug couldn’t, the vampires revealed their fangs as Alcide said:

“We’re being watched.”

Doug had reached his limits and let go of Brooklynne before he ran away. Knowing it was a bad idea to leave the human alone in this abandoned asylum where a three thousand year old psychopath was hiding, Alcide went after him. It was only when Doug started screaming that the three vampires followed him.

They found what seemed to be Russell’s pantry, where over a dozen humans were hanging from hooks like pigs in a butchery. A man started begging for his life, begging for them to take someone else, anyone else but him.

“Where do they take the prisoners?” Bill asked him.

“Down the hallway. There’s screaming and then there’s not!”

“What do we do with them?” Brooke asked.

“We’ll come back for them after we’re done with Russell,” Eric said before turning around and exiting the room, followed by the rest of his suicide squad.

Stakes in hands, they made their way to the end of the hallway where they found Russell lying on a hospital bed. He looked pale and sick, even coughed a few times. He looked almost human. Almost.

“Ah, miss Stackhouse. I see you’ve joined us,” he said with an eerie smile.

“We came here to finish what we started,” Eric told him as he approached.

“Well… give it your best shot.”

Russell’s smile grew bigger before Alcide, who was still standing in the hallway, behind Brooke, got jumped by a wolf.

“Eric!” Brooke shouted as a wolf launched itself at her maker.

She went to help him but was stopped by Russell who positioned himself between her and the Viking.

“Mmh, you’re just what the doctor ordered,” he smirked. “I’m sure becoming one of us just made your fairy blood even stronger.”

He trapped her against a wall and as he aimed for her throat she used her light to push him away. His back hit the wall at the other end of the hallway and he collapsed on the floor painfully.

“Yeah,” he cackled like a maniac as he sat up and leaned against the wall, “there is that aspect of you which I loathe.”

Eric killed the wolf that was after him then sped towards Russell. He crouched to get to his level then seized his face and made him look away from Brooklynne and directly at him.

“Look at me. I want to be the last thing you ever see,” he growled as he directed his stake towards his heart.

But before he had the chance to make a big mistake, Bill had his own stake aimed at Eric’s heart.

“He dies, we die. Most certainly. But if we take him back alive, maybe we don’t have to die.”

“Unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“Eric! Please,” Brooke begged. “He’s right!”

Eric snarled but eventually let go of his stake and put his fangs away. Russell used this short moment of weakness to pick up the disregarded weapon and attack the Viking. In less than a second, Eric was on his back, Russell on top of him, the sharp tip of the stake on his heart. Brooke moved fast and once again used her light to push Russell away from the man she loved.

It all happened really fast, and Brooke barely had time to register what was happening, as a group of heavily armed soldiers came in. Half of them had their guns pointed at Russell and the other half at her own heart.

“Freeze!”

Russell surrendered without protest, the red lights now aiming at his chest. One move and he’d be a pool of blood.

A tall, black man all dressed in black, from his shoes to his cap, joined them and stared at Brooklynne like she was the worst thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Eric quickly positioned himself between her and the man who was obviously the one giving orders here.

“What is this?” he asked with a strong accent.

“She’s mine,” Eric growled.

“Yours?”

“My progeny.”

There was no hiding anymore, no lying anymore. They had seen it. The light, the speed. It was useless to deny it, they were damned either way, and if they had to die tonight, they were at least going to be honest about it.

“What is she?”

… Well, half a truth was better than a complete lie…

“She’s a vampire.”

Russell chuckled.

“Lie,” the commander hissed.

“I turned her myself.”

“I suppose we will see what Guardian has to say about… this,” he said, looking around at the room where two dead werewolves were lying naked next to Bill. “Wolf and human are here,” he continued as Alcide appeared behind him, buttoning his jeans. “Why?”

“Doug led us here,” Bill started to explain. “Nothing that a little glamouring won’t take care of.”

“Do it,” the commander agreed before he exited the room.

After thoroughly glamouring Alcide, Eric made sure he got out safely and wasn’t stopped by any of the soldiers that the Chancellor had brought with him.

“He’s fine, he got in his van and is driving home,” Eric told Brooklynne as he saw the worried look in her eyes, though she didn’t worry about Alcide, she knew the werewolf would be okay.

Eric sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “This is what I wanted to keep you safe from.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before bringing her to his chest. He rested his chin on her head as she hugged him back. Still, no word came out of her mouth.

***

Chancellor Akinjide seemed impressed, and though he wouldn’t let Brooklynne go, he had stopped looking at her with disgust but rather with curiosity.

“No one thought you two would actually be able to deliver Russell Edgington,” he told them as he led them out of the building and into a van. “Guardian will be extremely pleased.”

“Pleased enough to not execute us?” Eric asked as he sat next to Brooklynne.

“Only Lilith knows that.”

“As only she knows all,” Bill replied with a smirk.

The chancellor didn’t reply as he closed the doors of the van, trapping them inside the vehicle.

“Who’s Lilith?”

“Enough with this religious bullshit already,” Eric sighed. “Lilith can fucking blow me.”

“No, she certainly cannot!”

Bill chuckled.

“Lilith is like the God of vampires,” he explained.

“And why are you suddenly so into it?” Eric asked his King.

“I’m just covering my ass.”

“Are you telling me the Authority is a religious government?”

“It could be worse,” Eric said. “They could take the word of the Vampire Bible literally.”

“The what? The what?!”

“At least the sanguanista aren’t in charge…”

“Who…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eric told her as he took her hand in his. “I’ll explain on the way to New-Orleans.”

“New-O…” she stopped. “Are we… are they… Are we going to die tonight?”

She caught his eyes and saw. They were most probably going to be executed tonight, and she would be questioned and experimented on and maybe they’ll use her blood to give the sun to all vampires… And everything he had done to keep her safe was crumbling down on him, breaking him apart as this voice inside of his head screamed at him that it was his fault and that he should have known better.

He wiped a tear off her cheek and took her chin between his fingers. He tried to give her his most sincere smile as he said: “I love you.” And he didn’t wait for her to say it back because hearing those words coming out of her mouth would kill him before dawn. So he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek on her head, hoping, praying to whatever God there was that he hadn’t just sentenced the woman he loved to death.

[43sparrows]

w a n t e d - {Five x Reader} AU!

IMPORTANT: First, and most importantly, Five is not a teenager in this. Nor is he a 58 year old man. He never jumped, and he's the same age as the rest of his siblings. In this story that's early 20s. I so get why a lot of people are weirded out by Five stories, but his character is just too interesting to not explore the dynamics of him in a relationship. I think of it the same way I write for Harry Potter or Peter Parker.  

WARNINGS: Pining, angst, some mediocre smut

Word Count: 1508

Note: This will probably be a "series" of one shots. I can kind of see 3-5 coming from this idea.

Inspiration: “Love will subsist on wonderfully little hope but not altogether without it.” - Sir Walter Scott

- - [ 5 ] - -

The thing about Five is that he says what he has to. 

He never lies and he never sugarcoats, but he tells careful truths that open doors and shut blinds as he sees fit. He knows how to command language with the precision of a surgeon, or perhaps, more accurately, a sniper.

It's his actions that paint a clearer picture of his inner workings. Because Five never does anything that he doesn't want to do at some level. He's too brilliant for that--knows too many different ways to achieve the same end goal.

So you don't have a single question about whether or not he wants you. You know he does. He's shoved you up against a wall more times than you can count, pressing into you so you can feel his want on every inch of him. It's exhilarating, and for months it's been enough. But now, in the back of your mind, is the small pinprick of hope—just enough to be sharp and annoying— that maybe he could possibly want to be with you. 

This is ridiculous of course. 

If he wanted, you’d already be together. Sharing secret smiles instead of bedroom eyes.  Whispering about your future plans rather than instructions to fuck me harder or touch yourself. 

But he doesn't want you like that. He wants you desperately trying to keep quiet underneath him, sweat beading off his forehead as he chases a release from life in the Umbrella Academy. 

You let out a needy gasp as he lifts your leg and puts it over his shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispers, a hand coming up to brace himself against the headboard. 

A small spark of excitement bursts like a firework inside of your chest. Sounds hardly come out of Five when you are tangled in the sheets. Any words spoken are questions or commands. There's no praise. There's definitely no sweet nothings. There's hardly even dirty talk during the act. That comes before and it's only a means to an end. Kind of like his kisses.

When you first realized this, it became your mission to make him moan. To make him struggle to keep quiet for the sake of your roommate or, on the rare occasions you're at his place, his sister. But other than when your lips are wrapped around him, tongue caressing its way up his shaft, it seems like a near impossible task.

He, on the other hand, plays you like a fiddle. He knows exactly how to make you moan, whine, gasp, mewl, and make any other sound he wants to hear. This new angle has earned him more than one moan, muffled only by you biting your knuckle.

"You close?" he grunts, eyes fixated on the finger in your mouth.

You nod and he increases his pace slightly. You're constantly overwhelmed at how he seems to be able to push himself to be just a bit faster, just a bit harder, just a bit deeper. You still haven't found this boy's limits.

The tension that's been coiling in your stomach is winding its way up your spine, and you feel ready to snap at any moment. Five knocks your hand out of the way with his free one, sticking two fingers in your mouth. The action has you mounting even higher, but the look in his eyes when you start to suck on his fingers is what sends you over the edge. Your back arches as all breath leaves you, your high rushing through you and escaping around Five's fingers in a high pitched squeak. Five's pace stutters and finally he stills. 

He withdraws himself as soon as he's finished.

There's no aftercare. Sure there are the practical matters he takes care of. He diposes of the condom, gets you a washcloth, helps to locate the clothes you'd thrown elsewhere. But after that, he's gone. Popped out of existence. Like nothing happened.

This had been a welcome relief when you first met. When your friends had dragged you to a bar to forget about your ex. It wasn't that there was anything particular to forget. He had been a nice guy, the kind you bring home to your parents, the kind who was focused on forever. You simply hadn't been his. Maybe they wanted you to forget that. Maybe they wanted to ease the blunt force trauma of rejection. Maybe they wanted the night to pan out the way it had. 

You can still remember how it felt the first time he looked at you--how you could feel the weight of his stare before you even saw him. It didn't take long to find him--and when you did, meeting his eyes...it was the kind of gaze that crushed all of the air out of your lungs and set your skin on fire. Exactly what you needed that night. 

You'd given him a small smile and turned back to your friends' conversation. The next thing you knew he was next to you. 

"What are you drinking?" 

You swivelled in your seat to find the man across the bar standing next to you, gesturing with his chin for the bartender to come over. "Gin." 

He quirked an eyebrow as he eyed your almost empty glass. "That's not straight gin." 

You shook your head, raising the drink to your lips. "This is a gimlet," you said, finishing it off and placing the glass down in front of you. "That was a gin and tonic," you pointed at another glass that had yet to be collected. "I like to switch things up," you grinned at him. Behind you, your roommate giggled. The man, for his part, raised both of his eyebrows and ordered you a Tom Collins. He always knew just what to say.

The night fell away from you after that. It had to be the quick succession of drinks coupled with his intoxicating presence. Your friends had been quick to abandon you, leaving you and Five sitting at the bar together chatting about subjects lost to time and alcohol. You couldn't have been focused that much on the conversation because all you could remember was his warm, slightly calloused hand, sliding its way up from your knee and the hungry look in his eyes.

The pair of you didn't last much longer in the bar. It couldn't have been more than an hour or so before you were back at your apartment, tongues and teeth clashing together as the two of you ran into the walls, the island, your dresser, the edge of your bed. And then the clothes were off and your fingernails were raking down his back, and you felt more alive than you had all month. 

When you woke up with a monstrous hangover and delicious ache between your legs, you were alone. It had been a welcome surprise at the time. After all, you were surfacing after a wasted two years and extricating yourself from a one-night rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to have the clarifying "this was just sex, right?" talk. You didn't want the memory of feeling absolutely wanted to be tainted. 

You wanted the freedom. You wanted to feel alive. You wanted casual. 

And the powers that be had granted your request with an empty bed and a scrap of notebook paper with a scribbled phone number and three words: Had fun - Five

A knock sounds from your door and for a second you think it might be Five, but he never knocks. He always just appears. The first time he did it, you'd nearly pissed yourself. The smug bastard had smirked and said, "Oh, I didn't mention this?" And then a few short sentences later you fell into bed. 

It has to be your roommate. And you're in no state for a visitor. Your hair is still mussed, your lips swollen, and your room smells heavily of sweat and sex.

"Y/N?" her voice echos through the door, and you shut your eyes. "You guys want coffee?"

"Yeah, one sec." 

It takes more than one second. It takes five minutes alone to get your hair looking somewhat under control, and after noticing a dark hickey just above your collarbone, you have to switch shirts as well. By the time you exit your room, the coffee pot is beeping and your roommate is pouring you a mug and handing it off. Gratefully, you accept it, checking the clock on the microwave. 

11:27 am. A bit late to be exiting your room for the first time. A bit early for a booty call. Even for a Sunday. 

"He's gone?" your roommate asks, still hovering by the coffee pot as you take a seat at the kitchen table. You nod, cradling the drink in your hands as you take small, tentative sips at the edge. 

She heaves out a sigh and puts the third mug up into the cupboard. She should know by now: he doesn't stay. He doesn't want your coffee. He doesn't want your company. He only wants you. And he has you.

Read Part 2

[selinascatnip]

I posted 7.448 times in 2021

337 posts created (5%)

7111 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 21.1 posts.

I added 383 tags in 2021

#titans spoilers - 137 posts

#lmao - 53 posts

#hbo titans - 47 posts

#dcu titans - 36 posts

#titans live action - 29 posts

#dick grayson - 23 posts

#dickkory - 23 posts

#titans - 13 posts

#starfire - 11 posts

#dc titans - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#there's even an episode in which mamoru takes usagi to an abandoned house and she thinks they will makeout and he shows her a mom cat with h

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

See the full post

67 notes • Posted 2021-08-19 23:20:18 GMT

#4

no, but that plot point of Nathaniel coming to West Covina because of Rebecca's ridiculous case that she used as excuse to spend time with Josh was such a Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic love spell tho

like... I always found funny how love in the book series worked following the magic motif of unwillingness to fall, but falling hard nonetheless and Rebecca and Nathaniel *have* magic as theme, their Harry Potter obsession, the Santa Anna Winds and when she was at the lowest, before they even knew each other, she called, and he came

I believe that in traditional storytelling (and I *am* glad Crazy Ex isn’t it, as someone medically diagnosed with BPD I have no words to explain how that show means to me) they would playout like a fairy tale 

70 notes • Posted 2021-03-25 20:14:14 GMT

#3

AU in which Dick was a normal 8yo:

*Bruce minding his own emo business*

Dick: B! B! B! B! B! B! B! B!

Bruce without looking from his computer: Hn?

Dick: B look! Look! Look! Look!!!

Bruce *lets out a tired knowing sigh and adjusts his computer to look at him*: Looking

Dick *flips his eyelids*

73 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 15:46:19 GMT

#2

I aways joked that Titans!Dick looked at Kory as if every time she entered the room his brain started playing I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden (because he's a 90's kid and a very cheesy man you cannot convince me that he doesn't listen to upbeat pop music in secret)

But now it fits Mar'i too and guys

He dreamed her into life

89 notes • Posted 2021-10-16 08:42:02 GMT

#1

See the full post

91 notes • Posted 2021-10-01 22:36:51 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Fated to Love You here reaffirming my long held conviction that no pure romance drama should be 20+ episodes.

This show is... really something. It is, in the fullest possible sense, A Lot. It starts out as an all-out screwball comedy wrapped around a troperiffic romance fluff plot. Wall to wall clichés, but not in a bad way; in a meta, self-aware, peak performance, finest Velveeta way. And if you’re not familiar with screwball comedy, think ‘light-hearted crack fic with slapstick and farce’. There is nothing believable or grounded about any aspect of it, it starts at Bonkers Level: Platinum and it only climbs higher as it goes on.

(On a side note, this results in the leading man being possibly the most memorable love interest in romcom history. His introduction scene is nothing short of batshit insane and you can't reliably predict how he will respond to anything. I have never seen a main character like this, he is all over the shop and utterly singular. Your first reaction to him is ‘wtf?’, your second and third reactions are ‘really?! this guy??’, your fourth reaction is ‘okay he do be mad hot tho’, your fifth and final reaction is ‘I cannot believe this performance exists, I have no idea what he is doing, but it is amazing.’

Appropriately(?) the actor who plays him is an uncanny Korean doppelgänger of Johnny Depp and- between the resemblance, the mannerisms, and the fearless total commitment to a bold as fuck acting choice with the very serious chops to back it up- I’m not convinced they aren’t half brothers separated at birth.

They do sabotage my happiness several times by starting to randomly style his (long, beautiful) hair very weird, fixing it right when the plot is rapidly circling the drain so he looks his hottest just as the show becomes briefly unwatchable, and then ruining him for the entire second half of the series by shearing it all off. WHY, my anguished cry goes up. Why do you do this?! Why does he have like seven hairstyles over the course of the show? Much later they even briefly give him that ubiquitous Kdrama Second Lead haircut with weirdly forward combed fringe in a solid straight line across the brow all the way back from the crown. It looks terrible on everyone and I hate it so much. This version was less bad than most but it is still bad. Anyway.)

So it’s an incredibly fun time to start but there are some problems with the tone and plot even in the first 9 episodes, including when the lovers start getting along really well right away and they’re both thoroughly decent people so there’s nothing keeping them from having a lovely time together making the best of the circumstances (forced/fake marriage). And, instead of introducing new conflict or advancing one of the dozen conflicts previously established and actually moving forward, there is a painfully contrived rehash of something they already dealt with which is then just never resolved. They make the hero leap to a conclusion his wife is nefarious after he’d already decided once that she isn’t (though it was completely reasonable for him to think she was- the fact that he decided to trust her so quickly just speaks to what kind of person he is), never try to find out more or talk to anyone about it, start pushing her away because of it, and have all this come to absolutely nothing. It only exists so he’ll stop being so incredibly nice to her and they won’t fall in love too fast.

You’d think they would have to eventually clear the air before the romance advances right? No. It wasn’t a real plot point, it was just a reset button to get them estranged and hostile again after they connect over their kindred spirits and we’ve spent a bunch of time showing how profoundly supportive and honourable our hero is. He’s being beautifully mature and selfless because he’s a really good dude (unusual for a romcom drama, right? for the main guy to be nice and considerate? to accept responsibility even if he doesn’t have to? Gun’s weird but he’s wonderful), but the writers need him to be cold and standoffish, so they just make him act like an unreasonable idiot for a while. He’s been thus far hugely proactive and direct and honest about everything, it’s one of his most prominent character traits, but suddenly he’s going to avoid confrontation in favour of being super passive aggressive?? Then the writers never solve it. Never! It just goes away. He got over it, I guess? He decided he doesn’t care if she’s a gold digger who deliberately trapped him? God forbid we have motivations that make sense and organic character drama, right? It's not like he didn't have totally valid reasons to be suspicious that could have led to legitimate conflict our heroine would struggle to vindicate herself from.

But anyway, apart from that kind of lazy bullshit, it’s a fine romance plot with extremely endearing characters who have great chemistry. They are fun and well-rounded and incredibly human despite all the silliness and OTT antics. Their relationship is hugely, hugely engaging and the dynamic is perfect, they really complement each other as characters and organically drive each other's arcs. There's the genuine depth and warmth and quiet pathos so often lacking from this kind of show. Things progress at a semi-reasonable pace. They work up to confessing their mutual feelings and get into some cute shenanigans before making out. It happens soon enough that you are not frustrated, but there's still plenty of build-up. Then- uh oh! We’re only 9 eps in and we have another 11 hours to fill with this fluffy plot!

Time for a bunch of absolute fucking nonsense. Time for our show, which has been so goofy and removed from reality it occasionally resembles a Monty Python skit, which has been so light it asks you to ignore the frankly incredibly fucked up implications of its premise for the sake of comedy (they were both drugged and proxy raped resulting in a pregnancy- the FL was a virgin prior to this and Gun had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to- and it was the FL’s family who did this to them: SUPER FUCKED UP), so farcical that it makes Some Like it Hot look like a gritty crime drama, that show to cover a bunch of serious heavy shit.

First, the rankest of melodrama. The families and the world all turn on our couple, but their love is true and will conquer all- UNTIL, he randomly collapses and gets convenient Soap Opera Amnesia. He’s forgotten their entire relationship and a series of coincidental pieces of misconstrued evidence, the machinations of his scheming ex girlfriend, the Soap Opera Doctor’s advice, and his closest confidants all going along with this conspire to make him believe (AGAIN) that his wife just wants his money.

This whole terrible episode is mercifully brief, but it just gets worse after his memory returns. This is where we get into the Noble Idiocy. The ‘pretend you don’t love them to “save them” from getting hurt by hurting them and making their important life decisions for them as if they don’t have a basic fucking right to decide that themselves’ kind. Which goes on for three FUCK years in the show. He wastes three years of their lives they could have spent together because he’s worried he might die young (in a terrible way) and doesn’t want to put her through that. And, of course, they inevitably get together later, so all he did was make it infinitely worse for her either way. To say nothing of how he thus couldn’t be there for her through the loss of their child. Possibly my most hated fucking trope of all time when done this way.

And, yep, you read that right. This show that has the single most batshit bonkers over the top slapstick I have ever seen in a kdrama, this show has a storyline where the fluffy romcom trope accidental pregnancy ends in massive trauma. Because she was standing around in the street after realising he does remember her (he continued to pretend he had amnesia after his memories came back, it’s all part of the stupid noble idiocy so I glossed over it) and gets hit by a car in the middle of their angst staring.

It is nearly Meet Joe Black levels of hilariously abrupt and incongruous.

so, blah blah, they lose their baby (there’s a very stupid whole thing about her telling everyone to save the baby instead of her- the baby is not far enough along for this to have been remotely viable. She is like 3 months pregnant. They all act like there’s a choice to be made between them and she’s mad at her husband for choosing to save her, but there was NO CHOICE. Either she lives or they both die! ffs I’m so irritated about this) and then he dumps her ~for her own good~~ because he loves her too much to make her go through losing him? So she loses him sooner?? right after their baby died???

Why do people in these stories always think being betrayed and abandoned for no reason and being incredibly angry at someone you love while also not getting to be with them is somehow less painful than making the best of your life together and then losing them against their will? ‘I will make her hate me and then she won’t be sad we broke up/I died!!!!’ is such a fucking galaxy brain take and I despise it with the heat of ten thousand suns. Fuck you, Spider-Man. You aren’t protecting anyone, the villains still know you love MJ and will still use her against you, you clod. Emotionally torturing the person you love is not going to make them not a target because the villains are not as fucking stupid as you two. Anyway.

Amnesia was right where I started fast-forwarding and skipping around (because I couldn’t bear it), but it only goes downhill from there. Maybe I would have toughed out more of the wretched middle part plot twist if they hadn’t cut all the hot guy’s hair off. If I’m going to watch total nonsense tedious melodrama, I need it to at least be pretty. I understand it was a Symbolic Haircut but damnit! Let me have this!

And it ultimately does the thing that kdramas seem obsessed with and which makes me want to claw out my own eyeballs with frustration. There’s a giant time skip, the female lead gets a personality transplant, all narrative momentum is lost, and the characters who eventually (at ENORMOUS length) get together permanently are essentially completely different characters with a completely different dynamic than the couple you were shipping for 90% of the story. It is so FUCKING unsatisfying and it is EVERYWHERE.

Not so much with this one because this one still had a lot of very romantic scenes late in the game, but most that do this, it’s also like all the romance is sucked out of the post-time skip episodes and the ending is a consolation prize instead of a triumphant culmination. Inevitably, the heroine abruptly cools off and is suddenly wary of the hero and wants this Important New Career she never mentioned until the penultimate episode but is now her one true life’s dream. What the apparently irresistible appeal is of these contrived separations and demure conclusions is I CANNOT FATHOM. I’m here for the fucking romance guys, you have not made Citizen Kane, please just indulge me with a big schmoopy finale.

And if not that, it’s frequently that there’s been so many random mood swings and so much shitty behaviour by the end that the relationship doesn’t make sense and you don’t know why they even bother to get back together.

I’m not inherently against all misunderstandings (they are the bread and butter of low stakes romance let’s be real) or attempts at noble idiocy from misguided characters, but the duration and seriousness of the drama these generate needs to be in proportion to how ridiculous they are. If your entire plot can be solved by a thirty second conversation there is NO REASON not to have and the continuation of the misunderstanding is a result of someone just NOT SPEAKING UP when any functional human being would have spoken up seven times by now IT’S BAD.

Do little cliff-hangers, whatever, but don’t draaaaagg out silly misconceptions into Shakespearean tragedy, it’s just wearying. It makes me hate the characters for acting like emotionally constipated toddlers with terminal stupidity. If there is so little trust, so little understanding, and so little basic patience between these people, they probably shouldn’t be dating, so try fucking harder, writers. And noble idiocy that is more than an impulse they fairly quickly see the error of is just insulting. You are not helping the other person, you are being domineering and selfish. I have a whole complex about wasting time and seeing endless parades of characters flushing years down the toilet for literally no reason gives me hives. Especially when the whole issue is about time!

(And, btw, so much of the plot is about how desperately the family needs an heir and everyone still wanting them to have kids the second time they get together- while the ~dilemma used to keep them apart is a GENETIC DISEASE which could STRIKE AT ANY TIME. Do you SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS WRITERS????? NO, I KNOW YOU DON’T. ommmmmmmmggggg that’s awful! So they’re just dooming more kids to Soap Opera Brain Disease? And maybe growing up without a father just as Gun did? And no one even considers suggesting adoption??? He never considers that he shouldn’t have biological children despite thinking he shouldn’t have a wife?)

ANYWAY. Please do watch the first nine episodes and the last three, it’s bananas. They are cute as fuck, Gun is The Best, and the tropey romance scenes are top quality. You don't get those things executed so well, it doesn't happen, so you need this in your life. The acting is of a calibre you never usually see in modern romcoms; these are people at the top of their game committing utterly and taking these characters completely seriously. In that way it is pure wish fulfilment for me as someone who loves romance and is almost always disappointed by popular romance media, and thus the show is incalculably special. But skip the middle. Just skip it. It's not worth the suffering. I find the tone whiplash honestly just this side of crass.

I’ve been thinking about it for over a week and I truly love the main characters so it did plenty right, but I just cannot with wedding the two things this show is trying to be together, especially when it goes so hard in two mutually exclusive directions. but also the Meet Joe Black sudden car accident device is not redeemable under any circumstances. Can we never do that again, please.

[zeravmeta]

fuck it. soma cruz fgo servant profile bc i make my own content

Servant: / Servant Class: Soma Cruz / Alter Ego

Origin: / Region: Castlevania Series / Japan, 2035

Alignment: Lawful Neutral(?) “Yeah, not sure how I classify as Lawful given my past life, but whatever.”

Aliases: The Dark Lord, Dracula, Soma Cruz

Parameters: STR (B) / END (A+) / AGL (B+) / MP (EX) / LUK (A) / NP (???) 

Class Skills: Authority of Beasts (Fake), Core of Chaos (A), One Who Severs Fate (A)

Character Info: “In order for God to be perfectly Good, there must always exist an embodiment of Chaos, a Dark Lord to emerge from the evil of humanity’s hearts.”

For one thousand years, the Belmont bloodline had opposed the terrible night that Count Dracula would bring with his powers. After generations of suffering, the Belmont’s latest mantle bearer, Julius Belmont, along with their generational allies, the Belnades clan and a nameless soldier, had managed to permanently defeat Dracula with the help of the Hakuba Clan’s shrine magics. Severing his connection to his power and sealing Castlevania, the embodiment of his power, within a solar eclipse, Dracula had finally faced his demise in 1999, prophesied by Nostradamus one millennium ago. Thus, the strongest Dark Lord had fallen, his throne empty and awaiting a new master.

In 2035, Soma Cruz had visited the Hakuba Shrine to meet with his childhood friend Mina, unaware of the birthright he would claim.

Skills:

Chaos Ring A: An extremely powerful construct that channels the very essence of Chaos. It can only be found by the one who can traverse and control the Chaos Realm, the Dark Lords personal right. Wearing it grants the unlimited magical power of the Chaos Realm, but actual output depends on the user. If the Demon King’s Ring is the symbol of Dracula and his reign, then the Chaos Ring could be considered the symbol of Soma and his new beginning.

Thematic narratives aside, it’s a very convenient tool for Soma.

“It’s weird, but it feels like…it was made for me. Almost like a welcome gift.”

[5->3 Turns] [Charge NP (20%->30%), Increase NP Gain (10%->25%) (3 Turns), Gain a Delayed buff 1 turn after skill use (Unremovable): [Charge NP (20->30%)]

Armament Master D: Soma is extremely proficient at using any and all forms of weaponry. Due to Dracula’s vast reach, Soma has a vast number of different modern and mythical weapons and gear at his disposal, notable weapons including Excalibur (sealed in the stone), Hrunting, Caladbolg, Mjolnir, and even a Positron Rifle, to name a few. However, one weapon unique to Soma is the Claimh Solais, an Irish sword of light mentioned in many legends and defining the archetype of “Sword of Light.” It provides a great boost to parameters and is surprisingly light weight despite its size. Another unique weapon he wields is the Valmanway, the “Blessed Wind” that is always ‘cutting’ even when still.

(The rank is D because despite his proficiency, Soma has never had any formal training.)

“I mean, it’s just a sword, right? How complex is it? You can just swing it and things die. Though…considering I have ol’ Drac’s memories…sorta, maybe I’m just remembering it?”

[8->6 Turns] [Increase Atk (10%->20%) (3 Turns), Gain Critical Stars (5->15), Increase Critical Star Absorption (3000%) (3 Turns), Increase Critical Damage (10%->20%) (3 Turns), Apply Special Attack against Sky, Star and Beast attribute enemies (20%->40%) (3 Turns)]

Power of Dominance (EX): Soma’s inheritance from Dracula, or more fittingly, the Chaos Entity opposite to God. The Power of Dominance is a unique ability that grants a complete mastery over the abilities of any and all souls Soma can acquire from the enemies he defeats. All the monsters that Dracula unleashed in his crusade against humanity are the countless souls under his domain, even that of Death itself, and their powers rightly belong to him.

Soma can differentiate between the types of Soul Arts he uses, and this reflects accordingly in his Noble Phantasm.

“I never wanted this power, but I guess I’m stuck with it. I’ll always carry the target on my back, but at least I can look awesome as hell while doing it, I suppose.”

[5->3 Turns] [Decrease Enemy Charge by 1 (20%->50%), Select own NP Command Card’s type between Quick, Arts or Buster for 3 Turns. Effect of NP changes depending on which Command Card Type is selected. This skill is immune to debuff effects (such as Skill Seal)]

Noble Phantasm:

Advent of Sorrow – He Who Severed His Fate Against Chaos and God / Anti-Divine, Anti-Self / Rank (???)

A manifestation of Soma’s power truly made his own, separate from the title of Dark Lord and Dracula. Having defeated the Chaos Entity, he managed to sever its connection to his soul, and be saved from his Fate. Even so, he carries the Power of Dominance with him always, and the countless souls and followers of Chaos always wait and offer themselves unto Soma to lead and command them. In his own imperfect way, neither holy nor demonic.

After all, he’s only human.

(Note: If used by the true Count Dracula, this would be considered an Anti-Humanity NP)

[Type: Buster] – [Deals massive damage to a single enemy (1200%->2400%), Chance to Decrease Charge by 1 (80%->100%). Overcharge: Increases own Buster Card Effectiveness (20%) (1 Turn) and NP Damage (1 Turn) (20%) (Activates First)]

[Type: Arts] – [Deals heavy damage to all enemies (400%->800%), Chance to decrease Atk (15%->25%) and Critical Chance (20%->30%). Overcharge: Inflict Curse (5 Turns).]

[Type: Quick] – [Apply Debuff Immune (1 Time), and Restore HP each turn for self (3 Turns) (1000->1500), and Increase NP Gauge each turn for self (3 Turns) (5%). Overcharge: Apply Def Up for all allies (3 Turns) (25%->50%).]

Bond Lines: 

Bond 1: “Heh, thanks for having me! I’m still not too sure about how all this stuff works here, but if you need a monster taken down, I’m your guy.”

Bond 2: “So the rest of those dudes call you ‘Master’? Kind of awkward, but I guess they’re magical familiars at the end of the day. What? So am I? Sorry but, vampiric powers aside, I’m just a normal guy. I was even in University before I got dragged here. I’ll just call you [name] for now.”

Bond 3: “Do you like curry? Arikado said I shouldn’t be using these monster souls for dumb stuff, but they don’t mind. They always talk to me and really want to help me out wherever I am. Except Death, that guy sucks. He’s always breaking into my home and trying to convince me to become the next Dark Lord and to ‘accept my throne’ and stuff.”

Bond 4: “…It scares me, sometimes. Knowing not only what I am, but what I’m very capable of.”

Bond 5: “Y’know…you could always come back with me to my world, if you want to escape. I’ll take you to meet Mina, and Hammer and Yoko and Julius and Arikado and…Hm. Sorry. I know you can’t abandon this world, it’s where you grew up. There’s…a lot of people here who love you. You should always remember that and hold it close. It saved my life when I thought I couldn’t go on, and I know it will also save yours.”

Voice Lines:

(1): “I’m glad this place is a lot simpler than the castle. That place had so many hidden rooms and puzzles that I felt like I was going insane…No, as a matter of fact, DON’T tell me about all the secret workshops here.”

(2): “Hm? What’s up? I’m just relaxing here. Sorry if I’m taking up space. It’s nice to just take a moment.”

(3): “No, no, don’t worry. Even if I could, I’m not the type of guy to just go around stealing souls. I only do that to monsters, and even then, they become complacent once they return to me. I could show you some of the fun ones, like the Skeleton Gardener, if you’d like.”

Likes: “What I like? Curry! Oh, and Mina. She’s been with me for my whole life. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Dislikes: “This is gonna sound cliché, but garlic. It just tastes bad.”

Event: “Whoa, a party! Let’s go, I’m super bored cooped up in here.”

About The Holy Grail: “Wish granting? No thanks, I’ve read a ton of comics and things always go wrong. What? Of course, it’s a valuable source!”

Summon Quote: “Yo! My name is Soma Cruz. I’m just a regular high school student. Um…Where am I, exactly?”

Happy Birthday: “Happy Birthday, [name]! I’m so gonna throw you the coolest party ever! I’ll even invite Mina…If, uh, if that’s cool with you?”

(King Hassan): “D-Death!? Why are you…Oh. Uh, sorry about that. You reminded me of...someone. I’m sure you’re a cool guy underneath all that armor.”

(Vlad/Vlad III (EXTRA)): “Huh. So, in this world, the legend of Dracula is just that? A legend? Well, that’s a huge relief. I’m not exactly the kingly type.”

(Gilgamesh/Gilgamesh (Caster)): “Hey [name], could you give me a hand? This gold idiot keeps saying I stole his weapons, but they’re mine! …Hey! Stay back with those portal things! Someone, help!!!”

(Scathach): “Jeez, I bet Arikado will get along with that slave driver. Seriously, Arikado’s method of teaching me my powers amounted to locking me in a room with monsters and a pocketknife. Huh? She’s stomping over here!? [name], help me!”

(Marie Antionette): “I don’t know why, but…Looking at you makes me sad. I’m sorry.”

(Sessyoin Kiara): “Master, this lady is coming onto me WAY too hard. She keeps telling me to ‘embrace what I am’ and junk. I already get enough of that crap from cultists back home.”

(Sakata Kintoki/Astolfo/Romulus/Romulus-Quirinus/Ashwatthama): “Hey, you’re a pretty cool dude, huh? Finally, someone with some style!”

(Amakusa Shirou): “Ugh, you remind me of Fortner. And stop using rosaries around me, I’m not Satan, you jerk!”

(Mephistopheles): “Please, leave me alone. I’m not evil, nor will I ever be the Dark Lord. Just because I have those powers doesn’t mean I’m defined by them. Also, the alarm clock you gave me exploded, so I don’t think you’re all that trustworthy anyways.”

(Beni Enma): “Aww, you’re so cute...Wait, from the Underworld? A yokai? Guess you’re one of mine, then. If you want, I can loan you some Skeleton Waiters for your chain.”

(Any Avenger-Class Servant): “Hey, you guys are kinda like me! Everyone says you’re evil, but you’re actually really nice!”

(Arcueid Brunestud): “Master, that girl is shooting me some pretty weird looks....Huh? Reincarnating vampire? Oh, I guess I’d look pretty weird in that case. That’s not her fault, though. Maybe I’ll go say hi.”

QQABB Deck:

Buster Card: 2 Hit / -Soma raises Excalibur (still in the stone) and smashes it into the enemy-

Quick Card: 5 Hit / -Soma holds Valmanway in front of him, turns around, and multiple slashes envelop the enemy-

Art Card: 3 Hit / -Soma does two horizontal strikes, then a third overhead strike with Claimh Solais-

Extra Card: 6 Hit / -Soma punches twice, does a spin-attack with Claimh Solais, then jumps back and fires his Positron Rifle-

Level Up: “Whew…I feel so powerful.”

Ascension 1: “Whoo! Good job, [name].” 

Ascension 2: “This…This is just like then…[name], maybe don’t do this anymore.”

Ascension 3: “Please…stop. I don’t know if I can pull myself back this time…”

Ascension 4: “I see. Well…as long as you’re by my side, I’ll never succumb. So please…don’t die.”

Battle Start ½: “Just how many monsters out there!? In any case, let’s do this thing!” / “I’ll carry the mantle and defeat this terrible night!”

Skill ½: “Bullet, set…Enchanted, set…Guardian, set…” / “How about some of this!”

Attack Selection ½/3: “Hmm.” / “Seriously!?” / “Nice.”

Attack ½/3: “Hraagh!” / “Take this!” / “You’re going down!”

Extra Attack: “Let’s see you handle THIS!”

Noble Phantasm Selection ½: “Are…Are you sure?” / “I’ll trust you on this.”

Noble Phantasm: “I will never be the Dark Lord…You, God, and The World will just have to deal with it!”

Noble Phantasm Damage: “I won’t…Submit...!”

Regular Damage: “Gah!”

Defeated ½: “Mina….” / “Julius…our promise…”

Battle Finish ½: “That was a close one…” / “Anyone need some healing? I have some spare spoiled milk…Oh wait, none of you have a Ghoul soul, huh?”

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“You Got Played and That's Dangerous” September 20, 2020, Speaks

- He asks where is your money? Hansen took thousands of dollars in donations. He was getting hundred dollar donations at a time. Hansen said he was going to throw James in prison, he’s under investigation by the police and FBI. You guys bought it. - Says someone wrote him saying they donated to Sarah’s Venmo and were later disgusted to find out she was full of it. - He asks where the money for Shiloh’s tattoo cover up went? He says he was told it was already covered up years ago. - Says Shiloh got pregnant while she cheated on him and took his money. Says Shiloh said he would pay James back. She gave him a fake wiring number. When he went to the money mart to collect it, the guy said that wasn’t a valid number. It didn’t have enough characters in it. - He asks what happened to Sarah’s laptop. Says the police would have raided him the day of or the day after if there was legitimate proof someone was like that. Says that was a year ago. - Repzion raised $23,000 for legal expenses, then he decided to spend it on repairing his car. He didn’t need the funds because he (James) dismissed the case. Says it cost him (James) $350 - $400 total. - Says you guys paid them to make him suffer or because you thought they were legitimate victims. He’s the most honest person he’s ever met. He never met anyone whos honesty is as non-self serving as his. Says for example, the first time he tried to sleep with a girl he couldn’t get it up. Says he once kissed his cousin when he was 13. Says he doesn’t need to say these things, but he doesn’t care. That’s why he started adult sites. - (Stripped in the military story.) - Says you recklessly gave your money to people who want to use you. They delivered you no results. The police say it appears there are no actual victims. The police officer agrees with the former air force cop. Says he strictly abides by the law outside beating his dad and speeding on the highway sometimes. - He says you call him a predator because he says things you don’t like, like you’re fat. You can’t handle criticism. If you say he’s done something evil, you think it invalidates everything he ever did. - Hansen has a problem with honesty and integrity. He doesn’t get the full story before talking about someone. - If you consume what you hate, you not only come closer to that in which you hate, you become like a hero that becomes the villain because he doesn’t die soon enough. - Asks what happened to the women that wanted “justice”? Asks if the police looked at what these women were saying and told them they were stupid. The former air force cop actually knows and respects the law. - Says the internet is mentally disabled. You can’t get through to them. - These people conned you out of thousands of your dollars and you cheer for them. They sold you a story that Onision is going to prison and you wished he would get violated in prison like a bunch of sociopath sickos. He wouldn’t wish that one anyone. He just jokes about it. - He says a couple days ago someone’s Youtube channel got terminated recently because they tried to commit a crime against him. Says it was the same person who went after snoopy [he doesn’t remember the person’s name] They’re part of the goon squad. Someone committed perjury by filing a claim against that person and he let Youtube know. The person went to do more things, lying on legal documents. - People said on a police report, James said Hansen was yelling into his house. Says Hansen was so loud, he could hear him through a door from his downstairs. Says what you guys see if not the full footage. He has the Ring footage. Says yelling is an accurate description. What kind of creepy nasty old man Youtuber shows up to another Youtuber’s house? The police told him he needed to leave. Hansen worked with a guy who was in the news for allegedly groping woman. That guy came to his house. - Last time Hansen showed up at someone’s house, that person committed suicide. Says you’ll probably say that guy deserved to die because he’s a preparator. Says you sound like you are sick and disgusting. - Says former mods of his who he kicked out hang out with anti-o’s. He says it’s not healthy. Says 4 months before he booted a mod from his server, she sent him an email with heart emojis. After he booted her, she said she hated him for a year and a half. Says she’s 36 and she’s now running a campaign against people on his server who don’t hate him. - Someone went on Hansen and said he told her to dye her hair and get a tattoo. He said he told her to dye her hair green and get a spray on tan so she’d look like an Ooma Loompa so he’d take her back because she lied to him. He says people paint that like it’s some kind of psychoses, like the chained to the wall thing. Says she was already voluntary waned a collar on her neck during intercourse. - A lot of women like to be in a Dom / Sub scenario. You guys live in a delusion where you would have to have sex with a women with your hands up so they can’t freak out later on on the internet. People lie all the time. - Says the lies about him aren’t even criminal. Says as far as he knows, there are three women just complaining because he broke up with them and hurt their feelings. - The law took his side. He never heard from the FBI. He only heard from the police when you guys falsely report him. No raids. Says you guys told the cops he murdered Sarah, but she answered the door. It’s a crime to give false reports to the police. - Says the women are all homewreckers. Shiloh broke up his first marriage. He says it was partially his fault because he fell for her. Says she initiated it as a business arrangement. Introduced herself as a Canadian pop star and they talked over Skype. She started putting things in there like she was into him. He was married to a friend who he wasn’t passionately into. They made videos together. Says his ex wife would get upset and quit halfway though. Says Shiloh once quit halfway through, then demanded he finish the video with her. He says he guesses that’s good. - Shiloh inserted herself into a married man’s life and he split. Says he doesn’t regret that decision. - (Skye alimony story, prenup story) - Says Billie tried to break up his marriage. One time she said if Kai and James broke up, she’d stay with Kai. (Billie and Greg slept together story) He says he lived 2 miles from a shopping mall, but Billie and Ayalla told you guys he lived in the middle of nowhere to make it seem like they needed help. He said after he caught Billie and Ayalla sneaking into an uber after he broke up with Billie, she cried and hugged Kai. Says Kai was pissed off because Billie cheated on him. He tells Billie to not abandon himself and Kai and if she wants the relationship to work, but she wanted to leave. He says he thinks she just really wanted to smoke weed. She tried to hug him and he rejected her hug and ran back to his house. - He says after cuddlegate, she went on a livestream and said she wasn’t a homewrecker, she just bruised their relationship. He says she laughed about that. (Cuddlegate story) - (Sarah sexually extorted him story) Says before he realized he was sexually extorted, he was trying to make things better. He tried to mend things and she asked him to fly to her state. He says he realized she was only trying to be with him, not Kai. (Aladdin story) - He says when she threatened her life, she said she loved Greg, not Kai. He says she was staying in a cabin near their house. Not with them. She was working at target. (Dat booty doe, kick out story) - Says he’s so honest that if everyone who was a Youtuber was sentenced to die, and someone asked who in the room was a Youtuber, he’d raise his hand. Says he’s not happy to be alive because he has adjustment disorder and depression. - Says a woman from animal control came out because someone reported he fated on his dog and fed them a muffin. He says he didn’t fart on his dog, but even if he did they eat their own shit so she shouldn’t have come out. She came with another officer and she wrote there’s an active investigation. He says there is no active investigation, but people saw that and believed it. - You’re an idiot if you believed their story because you didn’t ask what his side was. - Says you guys accuse him of being 5′ 6″. He touches the ceiling to prove he’s not 5′ 6″. He says you accused him of having a baby carrot. He says Only Fans proved that one wrong. You’re the dumbest community of people he ever encountered. - Victims don’t want money. Greedy people pretend to be victims for money. - He says Billie charged $50 on Only Fans. He says that’s greedy. He asks if she thinks she’s god’s gift to humanity.

[rekkingcrew]

Campaign Debrief

So for nearly 2 years I ran an Edge of the Empire campaign with 3-4 players, mostly weekly. These last couple of months we’ve been using discord, which has gone great. I want to get down some of my thoughts about what worked and what didn’t. 

This is gonna be a big wall of text and all but two bits are gonna be under the cut: system and play style. 

Fantasy Flight Star Wars game system is legit my favorite system EVER. (Not to dick wave or anything, but that’s including D&Ds 2-5, Gurps, White Wolf, Blades in the Dark, Dungeon World, Deadlands, and a few miscellaneous other short form ones). The system of advantages and disadvantages, and especially triumphs and despairs rather than just straight successes and failures really opens up complex narrative opportunities and gives a chance for wild story beats that just would not have happened otherwise. The fights go fast but feel meaty and there’s a lot of room to pitch advantages to your friends so you’re not just waiting your turn. Character creation is granular enough that your choices always feel meaningful, and points can be spent anywhere, so you can really specialize and shape your character. 

We played very collaboratively and it made things AMAZING. Part of this is that we were all good friends and have played together for a while now. Our taste in what kind of story we want is similar- nuggets of drama scattered throughout, but mostly cutting up. A lot of the best NPCs and story suggestions came from my players rather than from me- our season one boss villain, Imperial spymaster “Uncle” Karston Severax, a pantoran ex-special forces black operative whose current public face was a Mr. Rogers-esque children’s TV presenter, for example, was someone my players started out and all of us collective “yes and” added to around the table, and he was JUST THE BEST. These kind of exchanges also gave us moments like the time our tech tried to blackmail the head of a security corporation with the fact that he was having an affair and he’d written just LOADS of incredibly cringey fanfiction; but the roll was such that the attempt ended with him finally getting the push he needed to quit a job he hated, get out of a marriage that just wasn’t working, and follow his dream of self-publishing. He even dedicated his first book to our slicer. Because it wasn’t a DM vs Players atmosphere, because we were all on the same page, I could ask my players “hey, what do you want for your triumph?” and “all right, so who is the NPC you know?” as well as just “that’s enough to finish this guy, what does this look like?” This campaign was 1000% better for sharing that world building load, and the players were all, I think, more invested. 

more below the cut. 

What Worked

One of the most useful things I ever did was start giving players morality pet NPCs that were their special hench people, and I’m embarrassed that I waited so long to assign one to our droid. 

The zero session was absolutely invaluable in setting the tone of the game and the relationship between characters, and I will bang this drum until I’m fucking blue in the face. Don’t meet in the first session. Sit the players down and say “how do you know each other, why do you stay together, what are some of your past adventures?” It’s just so much better. 

Cameos and ties to our other games, in what we’ve been calling “The Drax Kreiger Expanded Universe” have continued to be welcome pretty much every time. People were delighted to have a moment or two to slip back into old characters. 

I was able to identify what each player wanted and give them that. Brick’s player wanted quiet scenes with big character emotion, like his one on one pit fight the character didn’t want to have, or the letter from his mother telling him how proud she was of him, or the time in training where he tapped into how angry he really was and it spooked the character and everyone on the ship. Nyla’s player wanted a big epic, but also difficult space journey of good vs. evil, and so Nyla got a padawan whose parents she had possibly killed when she fought for the empire, she dug up the grave of her clone teacher’s order 66′d jedi for the crystal for her lightsaber, she got to cleanse a temple that was trapped in a fruitless struggle between light and dark, and a climactic lightsaber battle that was about possibly sacrificing herself for the good of others. TK’s player was deep into star wars trivia and space stuff, so he practically squealed when Verpine shatter weapons showed up, and he seemed to get a kick out of the Evocii, and also that time they put on wing suits and dove the atmosphere of a gas giant. It’s worth noting nobody was actually all that interested in the thing that turns my gears: complex mysteries with a lot of clues and investigation, and once I let that shit drop, things ran a lot smoother. 

Some of our best stuff was non-combat challenges, like climbing the cliffs of Naboo or navigating the deep undercity of Nar Shadaa. The guys reliably failed anything social, but environmental challenges were always appreciated. 

I always tried to make sure there was more than one way to do things. For any given mission, especially early on, I’d try to brainstorm at least three ways something could be accomplished. 

My party split up a LOT, but we found a sort of cinematic cutting back and forth to be really useful. When there was a big crit, or a goal accomplished, or something like that, we’d jump to the other party even if the fight wasn’t over. Sometimes that was only just, like, Brick and the guys doing drunk karaoke and saying to no one in particular “MAN, I hope Nyla’s having as fun a time as we are!” but it kept everyone involved and it wasn’t just people waiting their turn for 20 minutes at a time. Also people chimed in with fun advantages and disadvantages. 

I had everybody write backstories and whenever I could, I incorporated in things from what they’d written. Our second season was basically TK tracking down the guy who’d made him, a Thackwash alien with the same sort of shifting personalities he had. TK’s player hadn’t written much about the guy except that he’d been a salvage mechanic who constructed TK for protection when he got in trouble with the local mafia. Giving that guy complementary personalities for each of TK’s really helped stick the landing on that one, and the player really enjoyed having actually completed his character’s goal. 

It’s worth saying, we took some time at several points during the campaign, either individually or as a group, to talk about what we liked and didn’t, what we wanted more of, where we wanted things to go, possible directions for characters, mechanical issues, how to have a better game, group dynamics, all sorts of stuff. In a way it’s like sex: people have this fucked up expectation that you’ll just be good at it without communicating, and man, fuck that. Talking to my players was ALWAYS worthwhile.

I was always adamant, because it was a thing that bugged me when I was a player, that if a character had spent the points to be good at something, they got to be good at it. That made some things difficult, but I think it was the right decision. It took me a while to tailor fights right, and honestly a lot of times, splitting up the party was the best way to balance fights, but I never said to anyone hey that thing you spent all those points on, could you please not do that?

My players were excellent about encouraging each other to have serious dramatic moments. TK was completely ready to die in a fight, and when he lost a significant chunk of his programming, the way he chose to play it was really heartbreaking. Everyone came inside and had tea with Brick’s mom. No one stepped on anyone else’s fun when it was time to be serious, and everybody was great about cheering each other on, whether they were being funny or being dead serious. 

I FUCKING FINISHED A CAMPAIGN. IT HAD AN END. So much stuff petered out over the years, I was adamant I wasn’t going to do that. 

What Didn’t Work

Boy, my players had pretty much all the trouble trying to remember to use “they/them” pronouns for NPCs with neutral or alien genders. 

No one is interested in falling damage. Sigh. 

I did not keep good track of money or ship fuel or anything. The campaign didn’t end up relying on it too heavily (I was honestly expecting a much more Cowboy Bebop setup than where we drifted), but that was an area I kind of fell down. 

We never really got obligation working correctly and in the end we just ended up abandoning it. We kept doing the force morality because the lone force player was very into it and it was a huge part of that character’s journey, but for the rest having people show up to collect on obligation was sometimes not possible in the story- or if it was possible it was pretty cumbersome. Campaign did obligation by arc, and I think that’s a pretty useful way to do it- roll at the end of the arc for what’s coming next. 

Early on, I made way too many assumptions about what was an adventure hook for my players and what was an annoyance. Honestly, bits of this lasted pretty late. At one point I gave my players a spy for the larger rebellion they could totally talk to- he was even working with their resident bothan spy- but they looked at the senatorial assassination he was doing and literally said at the table “I think it’s best if we just walk away from all this.” And so they did. Which was frustrating, but, you know, it is what it is. They also never much cared about the hutt gang war. 

I let a lot of things drop that I would have liked to bring back before the end, but in all honesty, I think we were all running a bit out of steam. I would have liked to put in Brick’s old mentor, or follow up with the imperial governor that was a falleen in a human skin suit, or see more of the bounty hunter’s guild, or have a nice end thing with our bothan spy, or any of that. But I do think it was time to end it. And we followed the threads people liked. 

I had way too many NPCS.

What sort of worked

I had like 200 npcs and they were not all bangers. In particular, I let the party design their own ship, which I wish had played a bigger role (though it did really set the tone), and I let them design 2 npc crew who would fill in any party roles they didn’t want to play and guard the ship so they could go on adventures without worrying about it. The devaronian scoundrel was with the party to the end though I never really got him to be more than a joke, but the bothan spy kind of fell off, and while she made some appearances, she didn’t really have as big an impact as I would have hoped. She kind of got replaced by Nyla’s padawan, a hench mon calamari called Nezrene, who was a better fit with the party. But, you know, players will do what they like.

Factions. In the first bit of the campaign, my factions were a fucking life saver, because I could design scenarios with a sort of “what is each faction doing/ which faction hurts from this, which benefits?” By the second season we’d kind of abandoned them to go to the core, and by the third my group was solidly rebel, so the hutts and bounty hunters fell a lot by the wayside. I still think having a couple of broad poles of power, and having the players know them and their leaders, is a good call. But they do seem to kind of organically pare down on their own, and it’s easy to get caught up too much in them. Useful sorta?

There was definitely a point where my players just were not challenged by conventional challenges. We ended up doing most of the later fights that involved a lot of minions in montage. I’d have them roll their fight skills unopposed, just to see if they got any interesting advantage/triumph set ups. I still had boss fights that were mostly challenging, but there just was no point in throwing storm troopers or low level gangsters at them. Not when they have soak 8 and autofire, and that one talent that lets you kill every minion in a combat. Designings fight got a bit tricky, and in those big high level combats, despairs and triumphs come up a lot more and really sway the fight, which I like, but also it’s very hard to plan for. 

Mass combat was tricky. I did a lot of it toward the end because my players were generals in a rebellion. I always had them do the rolls and some of the narration, but that wasn’t always enough to make them feel like things weren’t very arbitrary. 

I personally love the rule that if you roll a despair shooting into an engaged combat you shoot your friend. Nyla, who got shot twice this way, does not. 

We started the game with a tech character who dropped out. Toward the end, we picked up another tech character whose player couldn’t do their regular stuff because of covid lock down. Neither of these characters could fight at all, and both were very differently oriented than the rest of the party, and that was tricky to manage. Additionally, the dude coming in at the end had like a year and a half of in jokes he did not get and there were 200 goddamn npcs. I tried to give him the lowdown on what he might have heard about the party, but it was a combination of too much information and not that much player interest. He did get to break a star destroyer though, and I think he liked that. 

I offered players XP to write backstory stuff, and later goodbye notes others could find if they kicked it. Not all of them did. In the end it made a negligible difference, and I still think offering the bounties on this is basically a good idea. 

What I would do different next time.

Three ring binder that opens and closes so I could move fucking NPC stats around. I filled two goddamn school notebooks with notes for this campaign and there were so many goddamn times I was like “I KNOW I wrote this down, but where?!”

Players felt a bit aimless when they didn’t have a specific villain. I’d planted a few in, but they took finding, or they were too easy to avoid. Next time I would have a few more people who were actively on my player’s tails. 

I would keep better campaign notes and/or ask one of the players to do so. I used to do recaps for the games when I played Rek. There’s stuff I KNOW I’ve forgotten, and more I’ll forget as time goes on, which is a shame. It’s a weird, ephemeral medium, but possibly I’m just spoiled by living in an age of easy reproduction and enormous storage where data is concerned. 

Better book keeping in general, really. 

When I did a mystery short, I wrote up a list of all the clues people could find but not where specifically they were, so that I could just jam them anywhere they seemed like they’d make sense whenever a roll called for a player to find something. I think I’d try to do that with player’s personal stories so they could be woven in a little better. I did a lot of flying by the seat of my pants. 

All in all, I’m pretty happy with how it went, and I’m ready to get back to playing for a bit. I loved DMing, and I more or less DMed the game I would have liked to play, but man, doing this all the time, or being the only person who does it? After a while, that’d be a lot, and I’m looking forward to the break. 

[siennaswritings]

Novel Prep Tag Game

Thanks so much @keen2meecha​ for tagging me!!!! It’s always fun to do these and get my gears grinding for a project! I’ll be doing this for The Irregulars (I would do one for E & I but I already have akjdvbafjv so here we go)!

First Look

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences

Arya thinks her life is going pretty well, between her college applications, her friends, and her insanely good ability at avoiding her ex. Although, when a family heirloom starts giving her some creepy dreams she doesn’t think are “just dreams,” she has a feeling she’s about to discover a lot more than she bargained for... 

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be?

Mmmmm, between 40-60k? Tbh since this is only my second draft, I’m not really focusing on word count rn. 

3. What’s your novel’s aesthetic?

Hmmmmm, think Buffy the Vampire Slayer season... 7? Arya’s one of those who’s pretty sure she’s finally gotten this whole life thing down, and now she’s being thrown for the ultimate loop. Very dark and edgy, and kinda chaotic cause the mc is very “what the hell is going on what is this I don’t understa-” 90% of the time.

4. What other stories have inspired your novel?

Tbh FMAB really inspired me as far as the villians go? Which then sort of drove just what the hell the heroes actually stand for.

5. Three images that get the feel of your novel

Main Characters

6. Who is your protagonist?

Arya Etheridge. She’s seventeen, pan-hellenic wiccan (though her patron god is Apollo), and her use of magic will be in no way sensationalized (sorry Hollywood). She’s a writer, and she’s very unlucky in love. She’s only had one attempt at a real relationship, but the guy kept lying to her and all he wanted was sex. So, she’s a bit scathed by that. She deals with a lot of self-esteem issues, and she’s very withdrawn (even though she doesn’t want to be). She changes her hair color a few times throughout the year, and whenever she gets stressed she does a tarot reading!

7. Who is their closest ally?

Hmmm, well at the beginning of the story it’s her bestie Margeux. They’ve been through a lot together, and though Margeux pisses Arya off on the daily, she honestly wouldn’t trade anyone else for her. Margeux’s very much the prep girl who gets stuck in all the school drama, and Arya’s very much the edgy girl in the back of the room too busy scribbling in a notebook to notice anyone. Opposites attract, for sure, with these two.

8. Who is their enemy?

In the real world? Herself. Definitely. But, once she gets swept up in all the madness of the novel, having to battle this ancient race of demons back to whence they came, she realizes she really doesn’t have to hate herself as much as she thinks.

9. What do they want more than anything? 

To get published, to have a stable home foundation. One of these is much more likely than the other, can you guess which one?

10. Why can’t they have it?

Her birth parents are very... tumultuous with each other, at best, hence their divorce when she was four. Her dad got with her stepdad around that same time, and ever since her mother has been very... terse with her, to say the least. 

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

That she isn’t worth the love that surrounds her.

12. Draw your character.

Oh dear, can I just promise to commission someone later to do this??? Lol. I very much am Not an artist. 

13. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

She has major abandonment issues, so tbh if she loses one of her close friends *cough*Margeux*cough*, she may honestly just go off the deep end.

Plot Points

14. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

Sooo, turns out Arya’s part of this ancient bloodline to fight back and defeat the forces of darkness. Crazy, right? Well, she stumbles across this old ring while moving some stuff from her mom’s place, and she’s like “bruv, this is pretty and the perfect color I need to represent Apollo on the daily” so she keeps it. However, when she starts wearing it, she starts having these dream visions of epic battles. She prays about it, but the answer she gets isn’t exactly what she expects. She’s swept up in the madness when these visions reawaken the ancient foes, and she has to learn to fight them back, and fast.

15. Do you know how it ends?

Yes!

16. What is the theme?

Learning you are Worth It, and just how much you can handle. Like, learning your own inner-strength and how to utilize it.

17. What is a recurring symbol?

Dream symbolism, 100%.

18. Where is the story set?

Our world!

19. Do you have images and scenes in mind already?

Most definitely! I have the majority of the first novel plotted, and I have the opening scene already written.

20. What excited you about this story?

So, straight-up, this novel started out as a way for me to write about myself and my friends. My friends are some crazy characters, and I’ve always wanted to live one of my novels, so... this is as close as I can get. It’s really fun to navigate the creative nonfiction elements of this mixed with the urban fantasy of it all. It’s a very thin line that I’m excited to balance.

21. What is your usual writing method? 

Usually I just sit down and go at it, but I’ve gotten more and more into making note docs and outlining the entire novel before I start. I remain very flexible as I write, but the outlines help me hit all the beats I want in a timely manner.

I’ll tag: @dowings​, @celestialbunnistories​, @songsofaleria​, @milkyway-writes​, and @cookiecutterwrites​!

[let-it-raines]

Rising from the Ashes (20/21)

When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be.

And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: So, friends, this is the penultimate chapter! The next chapter is the epilogue with all of the happiness that this family deserves, so be looking out for that one! I’ll post when everyone has had some time to read this one! 💙

A special shoutout to @shady-swan-jones for prompting me this story back in November. I was going to write a one shot, never could figure out how to do it, and then posted the introduction to the one shot so I could encourage myself to keep writing it. Another shoutout to @wellhellotragic for helping me formulate ideas and for making sure everything made sense and another one for @bmbbcs4evr because she literally messages me after every chapter with detailed notes that point out little things that I figured no one would notice and flails over something that’s super angsty. And thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for simply being herself 😊

This has been such a difficult story to write, but I’ve really, truly enjoyed getting to put my heart into crafting it. 

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Tag list: @ultraluckycatnd @jamif @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @pirateherokillian @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @thejollyroger-writer @tiganasummertree @idristardis @blowmiakisscolin

-/-

“Hey, Ems,” Neal smiles, looking for all the world like he belongs in this house while suddenly the place where she once felt safest no longer feels secure. Her heartbeat has picked up by a solid twenty seven more beats per minute, and her legs seem like flimsy toothpicks beneath her as she places her hand against Henry’s shoulder, the warmth of Killian’s hand on her back the only thing that seems not to be freezing her out.

She’s dreaming. She has to be dreaming. There’s no other explanation for any of this. She’s going to wake up in thirty seconds and Killian’s arms are going to be wrapped around her and the man who abandoned her isn’t going to be holding her daughter in the way that he never held his son.

Vomit makes its way up her throat, but she swallows it down and closes her eyes as she attempts to take one deep breath after another. The tension is practically rolling off of Killian, but he’s the ones who brushes by her first, quickly heading into the living room and pulling Neal into a hug only to come out with Ada held securely in his arms.

Good.

Okay, good.

That makes her breathe a little more easily, and when Killian nods at her, a soft smile on his face, she takes that as her cue to try to act as naturally as she can. It’s difficult figuring out what that is, especially since even if she didn’t know everything she knew, she would still be pissed at Neal and at their conversation from yesterday. Every bit of that was unacceptable, but she can’t knock the teeth out of his mouth with Henry in here.

She really wants to knock the teeth out of his mouth and possibly break a bone or two.

But she can’t. She can’t do any of that, and it’s so damn unfair. This man has made her love him time and time again, even if it has been in different ways, and then ripped her entire life out from underneath her. All she wants is to scream and yell and work out every bit of anger and resentment, but none of that is possible.

This man is her son’s father, and even if he is a criminal and an undeniable asshole, she cannot degrade him in front of Henry. Not yet. They’re going to have to have that conversation, but no part of her is ready for it.

And she imagines she can’t be ready until someone arrests her ex-husband.

What the fuck is her life?

“You look like a ghost,” Ruby laughs, and Emma blinks in response several times until her vision clears of the blurry tears and Ruby comes into view. She’d forgotten that Ruby was here. How did she forget that? Why didn’t Ruby text her that Neal was here? “Of course, I would too if my ex-husband showed up in my house,” she whispers in Emma’s ear, making her laugh even if she doesn’t know why.

“When did he get here?”

“About five minutes ago.”

She nods, swallowing her gulp again. “Thanks for watching the kids, Rubes. Were they good?”

“They were great. We got ice cream, like I promised, and then we did stop by my house to pick up some paints. They’ve both got a few pieces drying out on the back deck, so make sure to look out there and get them.”

“What’d you paint for me, kid?” she asks Henry, her voice cracking as she tries to smile at him.

“Dinosaurs. Ruby looked them up for me online and drew them for me before I painted them.”

“Well that’s nice of her. Why don’t you thank her before she leaves, okay? I’m going to go say hi to your dad.”

Henry nods before he starts chatting Ruby up like she hasn’t been with her all day. It makes her legitimately smile when she’s having a difficult time keeping control of any of her limbs, but she focuses on the way that Henry is currently happy and Ada is babbling without stopping to Killian as he sits with her on the couch all the while she steps closer to Neal and pretends that he doesn’t make her feel like she’s covered in a layer of un-washable grime.

Unlike Killian, she doesn’t have the wherewithal to give him a hug, so she steps in front of him and straightens her shoulders all the while he smiles down at her. She’s never found his smile creepy until this exact moment. Condescending, sure. Creepy, not at all.

“What are you doing here, Neal?”

“What? A man can’t come and surprise his son?”

“Not without talking about it to me first.”

Neal’s jaw ticks. “He’s my son. I can see him when I want to.”

“That’s not how parenting works when you don’t live in the same house, and you know it. I’m not asking for the world. I’m asking for you to give me a heads up before you show up at my house.”

“Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Emma laughs, something dark and sadistic, and she has to reign herself in. She will not let Henry see everything right now. At least he’s still talking to Ruby. “Yeah,” she lies, forcing another smile onto her face, “I think you showing up here is the highlight of my day. How is it that you couldn’t make it up here on Friday like you were supposed to and yet you’re here today?”

“Change of plans.”

She clicks her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest before sitting down on the arm of the couch, all of the remaining strength in her body leaving her as the lack of sleep and stress catches up to her. “Well, I’m sure Henry is excited to see you. I’ll order some pizza for dinner, and you guys can watch a movie or something after he finishes his book report.”

God, she doesn’t want to deal with having to do a book report even if it’s for a third grade class.

Life goes on even when hers is falling apart, it seems.

“Dad,” Henry says, coming to stand between them as he bounces up and down on his toes, “I have to show you my room. I got new books. Come on.”

Henry tugs at Neal’s shirt, and Neal smiles before following him up the stairs, his footsteps leaving an imprint on each stair. She doesn’t really want him alone with Henry, but honestly, it’s a relief for the both of them to be out of the room so that she can breathe. Why can she still not breathe?

Leaning down, she props her head between her legs and places her hands on her neck to try to squeeze out the tension that’s remaining there. In muted tones she hears Ruby saying goodbye, her laugh the loudest part about it as she talks to Ada and Killian, and vaguely she realizes that Ruby is saying goodbye to her too. It’s difficult to get her voice to sound normal, to think straight as she hugs Ruby goodbye and promises that she’ll explain everything at work tomorrow.

Except she knows that she’s not going to be at work tomorrow. There’s no way.

As soon as the door clicks behind Ruby, everything becomes a little louder, Ada’s babbling clearer, and she walks into Killian’s side before he even gets the chance to lift his arm. She’s always been able to stand on her own, but sometimes she needs the support. Right now is one of those times. Killian lifts his arm out from between them and wraps it around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him so that she can feel all of his warmth as his lips press against her forehead. She nearly sobs at the feeling.

“It’s okay, love.”

“It’s n-not. How is he here? Why is he here? What are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll…I think that I’ll text David and let him know that he’s here, and he’ll talk to Graham. They might – Emma, they might not be ready to bring him in yet, and if that’s the case, I need you to act like nothing is wrong. If Neal gets a whiff of anything, if he knows that someone is on to him, I’m sure he has the resources to run.”

“Would he do that?”

“He’s done it before.”

She nods her head against his chest before pulling back and looking directly at Ada. It’s kind of like looking in a mirror, but right now her eyes show more blue than green, and her eyelashes fall darkly against her cheeks like Killian.

“Hey, bug,” she sighs, taking her in her arms and holding her. Her limbs are still shaking, nerves and tiredness winning over determination, but she knows that she has to push through this.

Nothing has ever completely knocked her out before. She can do this. She has to.

The entire night is this odd blur of confusion and anxiety and tenseness that can’t be fixed. Neal is acting like everything is normal, like he didn’t just show up at their house, like he isn’t a liar, like he didn’t try to cut Killian out of Henry’s life. She still doesn’t understand any of that. The man left her, left Henry, and yet he came back. Why in the world did he come back when he obviously wanted nothing to do with them? Why does he want something to do with them now, and what is his issue with Killian? If he didn’t care enough to come home, why would he care about Killian’s role in Henry’s life?

The only thing she can think of is jealousy, and that seems like the worst excuse in the world. He didn’t want her or want to be with her, and yet he’s acting like he has some right to the life they used to share.

Neal may not have died, but their old life is dead and buried in the ground far more than six feet under.

Instead of putting Ada to bed in her room, she lets her fall asleep on her chest, the small puffs of air more reassuring than anything, and throughout the night she never takes her eyes off of Henry to make sure that he’s okay. She’s sure that he’s safe, that they’re all safe in here, but her life has been so unpredictable that she can’t help the worry that is continuing to fester in the pit of her stomach as she waits to see just how much longer she’s going to have to live with Neal being back in her house.

When all of this is over, she wants to move. She wants to be away from this place. It has been her home, the place where she’s felt the most secure and the place where she conceived her daughter, but it’s been tainted by everything that’s happened over the past nine months.

Ada turns one in two weeks, and this is not a year that she wants to remember even though it will be inked like a tattoo on her brain for the rest of her life. Hopefully the bright spots will blur away the darkness.

It simply has to.

Neal doesn’t make any odd moves, doesn’t say anything else that is horrifically wrong, and from the outside looking in, he looks like a father who loves his son and loves spending time with his family. For all of the world, and most of the western world does know who they are if they watched the news at some point last year, they are some kind of perfect family who is making the best of a complicated situation. That’s what Neal put on in his interview, what he made everyone including her believe even if she’s never been under the impression of anyone being perfect, and now she wonders what parts of her life are still true.

Killian is true. He may have withheld things from her, and they may have their issues, but he’s real. And he’s not going to abandon her. Of that she is completely and totally sure.

Her children are true, her brother, her mom. She needs to call her mom and tell her that she loves her and thank her for helping to give Emma so many good parts of her life. No part of her would be the same with Ruth having adopted her, and even if it’s a shitstorm right now, it’s still good.

She has to have hope that it’s going to get better too.

“Alright, time to go to bed,” Killian yawns when the Lego Movie ends, their thousandth viewing of it finally over.

Henry groans and throws his head back against the couch. “Seriously?”

“Aye, you’ve got school in the morning, and I imagine that Mary Margaret won’t be too happy if you’re sleeping through one of her lessons.”

“I’ve done that before.”

Killian laughs at the same time that she does, and for the briefest of moments, everything feels normal again, especially when Henry slides down the couch cushions and is basically a noodle for forty five seconds until Neal scoops him up from the couch, standing him on his feet and placing his hand on his shoulders.

“I’ll put him to bed.”

“Thanks,” she says with a forced smile. How can he be acting so normally when everything is not normal? How has he spent nearly this entire time like that with only a few slip ups? “Goodnight, kid. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She watches as Henry and Neal make their way up the stairs, the two of them peas in a pod, and her heart sinks again at absolutely everything. Henry is a smart kid. He’s going to understand a lot of the fallout of everything that’s inevitably going to happen, but he’s also still eight years old. There are a lot of things he’s not going to understand right now, but he’s going to understand them one day. The repercussions are going to follow him forever.

Can they still get that group rate on family therapy sessions?

Her sadistic jokes have got to stop.

Emma adjusts Ada on her shoulder, wondering when in the world she got so heavy, and carefully stands to join Killian in the kitchen where he’s putting away the leftover slices of pizza in a Tupperware container, neatly sliding it into its spot in the refrigerator before his phone chimes.

“Who’s that?”

He doesn’t answer, but she watches as his brows pinch together and the lines on his forehead all focus in on one area as the skin at his jaw convulses, Killian very obviously frustrated and focused.

She runs her hand over Ada’s back and takes a step closer to Killian. “Babe, what is it?”

“David says that Graham and some of his coworkers are going to come to the house to arrest Neal so they can question him.”

“What?”

“They’re – they want to move ahead with the investigation, to stop losing money on manpower. Apparently after talking to you they realized they weren’t going to learn anything new without Neal, and they’re willing to offer him some kind of fucking deal.”

Her heart is never going to take up residence in her chest again. It’s permanently going to live in the pit of her stomach and never return to its normal beating within her chest. At least it’s still beating because her breath has been escaping her all night.

“Right now?”

“Aye.” Killian nods his head before he drops his phone onto the countertop, the clanking loud against the marble, and he steps forward to wrap his arms around she and Ada, pulling her as flush against his chest as he can with their daughter in between them. She doesn’t even realize that she’s shivering until Killian rubs his hand up her back. He’s always doing that, and she needs him to never stop. “Take Ada upstairs, darling,” he whispers in her ear so that the warmth of his lips press into her skin and his beard scratches her. “Put her to bed and make sure that Neal is finished getting Henry to go to sleep. Our kids are going to be in bed when this happens, and when they wake up in the morning, nothing is going to be different for them, okay?”

“How do we tell Henry about any of this?”

“We’ll figure that out later. He doesn’t need to know right now. We won’t tell him until we have to.”

She nods her head against Killian’s neck and presses her lips against his collarbone. His arms fall from around her, and she moves toward the staircase to take Ada upstairs, hoping that she doesn’t wake up when Emma places her in her crib. She stirs a bit, but mostly she’s able to put Ada down without any fuss. She’s always loved this nursery, loved the calming neutral colors and decorations, and even though Ada spent most of her time in her bassinet in their bedroom, Emma can’t begin to count the hours that she spent in here nursing or reading Ada to sleep. Her baby is so full of innocence, of light, and she wishes for all the world that she could give that same innocence to Henry.

“I love you, bug,” she whispers to Ada, leaning down and brushing her lips against her forehead before pushing her hair back.

Swallowing the emotion in her throat, she walks out of the nursery and sees Neal closing Henry’s door. It’s something she grew used to in his time living here, and if she closes her eyes, it’ll be just like it was then. Neal will have read Henry one of his books, told him he loved him, and there would be no underlying history of betrayal. It would simply be a father loving his son.

But it’s not that. How can it be?

“Is he asleep?” she questions, trying not to let anything slip past that shouldn’t while she messes with the pendant on her neck, needing something to do with her hands once more.

“Out like a light. He kept talking about his goal from yesterday.”

“It was a good one.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Do you have tomorrow off of work too? When are you going home?”

Neal smiles and takes a step closer to her. She instinctively wants to take a step back, but she doesn’t. She holds her ground. “Why? You trying to get rid of me already?”

“Never. I’m glad you’re here for Henry.”

(Always. You’re a bastard, she wants to say.)

“I felt bad cancelling on him. You have to believe me on that.”

“I do. Let’s – ” she hesitates, turning her head to look back down the hallway toward the stairs, “ – let’s go downstairs. I want you to tell me a little bit more about work.”

Neal quirks a brow and tilts his head to the side, and a shiver runs down her spine in recognition that he’s studying her, that he realizes that something is off. Neal may have lied to her, may have hidden truths of his life, but they were still together for four years. He knows her, and it terrifies her that she’s somehow given something away that she’s not supposed to.

“You want to talk about my work?”

“It’s important to you.”

“Huh. I just thought I’d be in for more of a lashing because of yesterday.”

If only.

“I have nothing more to say about that,” she grits as she turns on her heel and starts to walk away so that she can compose herself. She has a hell of a lot more to say, but really, she knows that it doesn’t matter. Not now. “Come on. I’ll get you something to drink.”

She doesn’t turn around, but she can feel Neal’s heavy presence behind her, a continual hovering that weighs her down over time. That’s how he’s always been, and she’s been too naïve to realize it. It’s how he works, apparently. He’s nice enough, saying and doing all of the right things only to gradually break her down and make her feel worthless. But then he’ll be sweet, do something kind for Henry, and she forgets all of the snide remarks he’s made toward her.

That’s not okay. It never has been.

“Babe,” she calls when she gets to the bottom of the stairs, “will you get Neal some whiskey?”

“Aye.”

Her eyes follow Killian as he reaches up to grab a small glass out of the upper section of the cabinet. His muscles strain under the sleeve of his t-shirt, and her eyes fall to the dark hair that covers his forearms and the veins that lie beneath them. His shirt rises to show his stomach and the strong lines there that dip into his sweatpants. Her limbs are still shaking, goosebumps covering her arms, but Killian is steady. He’s always steady.

Right now she feels so incredibly weak, but really, she knows that she’s rarely had to be this strong.

Slowly but surely Killian pours all three of them glasses of whiskey, the liquid sloshing into the glasses, and when she’s handed hers, it takes everything in her not to gulp it all down so she can feel the harsh burn of it falling down her throat. Her gaze watches her drink move, the slow steadiness of it, and she takes pleasure in the consistent back and forth movement. In the back of her mind, she knows that she, Killian, and Neal are having a conversation. She can hear her words in her own head, hear the forced sound of Killian’s laugh, and then hear the quiet murmuring of Neal’s voice.

Mostly, though, she hears the click on the door as it opens, the crunch of boots as Graham walks into their house with a woman she’s never met following behind him, and she hears Neal cursing and questioning what’s happening before suddenly legal rights are being read over the clink of handcuffs snapping together.

That’s when the muted sounds stop, when everything comes back to full volume, and she listens to the familiar sound of Neal’s voice, the one she only heard in her dreams for eight years, and the unfamiliar sound of Graham’s voice as he continues to explain what’s happening. The woman, Agent Fa apparently, thanks she and Killian for their assistance, tells them that they’ll be able to get more information tomorrow, and then she’s gone too, closing the front door behind her and letting it click into place.

She places her drink on the counter, the whiskey untouched despite her desperate desire to drink it, and it takes one and a half steps for her to fall into Killian and rest her head on his shoulder, burying her nose into his shirt so that she can smell the faintest whiff of the detergent they use. It’s that familiarity, that normalcy of the smell that grounds her as her arms tighten around his stomach and his come to rest on her back again. This time they don’t move, they don’t rub her back to reassure her. They simply stay still, a warm presence when she feels so incredibly cold.

“I love you. I’m so proud of you,” Killian mumbles into her neck, and she nods her head in response as she feels a tear slip from her eye quickly followed by another until she’s uncontrollably sobbing, every single part of today and yesterday and the past twelve years of her life coming back to her while Killian finally rubs her back up and down. “You are so brave, my love. Undoubtedly the strongest person I’ve ever come across in my life.”

She chokes on one of her sobs, air struggling to get to her lungs, and she knows that she’s got to be wiping snot on Killian’s shirt from how she can’t stop her body from falling apart.

She’s thirty one years old, and she’s lived five lifetimes worth of pain.

“Shhh, shhh,” he comforts, his hand now moving against her back, patting her every time she gasps for breath, “I have got you, Emma. I’ve got you.”

No part of her misses that he doesn’t say that she’s okay, that it’s okay, and she takes comfort in that too. There’s no point in lying.

“I love you,” she gasps in a quiet whisper that he most likely can’t hear over her. “I – don’t…I’m…can we – I really need to go to bed,” she finally gets out as she pulls back to look at Killian through her blurry vision. She blinks through the tears, trying to clear her vision, and Killian moves one hand up her arm until he’s wiping away her tears with his thumb so that she can see the tears falling down his cheeks as well.

“Let’s go to bed,” Killian agrees, and she can’t help herself from pressing up on her toes and kissing away the tear staining his cheek.

The next day is the most difficult day, she thinks, because she spends the entire day wondering what exactly comes next and wondering if she’s ever going to get the answers she craves. It almost feels similar to how she felt when she was told that Neal couldn’t be found, that he’d disappeared, that he was most likely dead. She knew for sure that he was dead, that he was gone, but the way that there were no definitives made the tiniest glimmer of hope radiate from within.

Now all that radiates is dread.

They take Henry out of school that day, she and Killian call in sick, and after they tell Henry that Neal had to go home early, his brown eyes full of disappointment, she and Killian take the kids to Willard beach, packing up a picnic and beach toys to entertain everybody since it’s still a bit too cold to get into the water despite it being early May. Henry is definitely a little down at first, the highs and lows of thinking his father is going to be around only for him to be gone the next day definitely taking a bit out of him, but when they get onto the sand and Killian starts kicking a ball back and forth with him, he seems to forget, especially when Killian purposefully kicks the ball far enough away that Henry is running with all of the speed that his legs will allow him. He runs back, red faced with his hair all a mess, but he’s smiling.

Her little boy is smiling, and that’s all that matters.

Ada keeps trying to stand only to fall down into the sand, the uneven surface not good for her as she tries to walk (oh man is Emma not ready for that for whenever it comes), and Emma spends her time helping Ada out as much as she can but mostly lifting her in the air and making her giggle as she listens to her daughter babble every little word and sound she knows.

It lifts her in ways she never thought possible.

For a few hours she forgets everything that’s going on in a police department downtown and forgets everything that’s happened in the past forty eight hours. These three people in front of her that are making her laugh as mustard gets stuck on Killian’s beard and Henry sticks his tongue out to make his little sister laugh are making her see that there is such good in the world that makes everything else seem a little less harsh.

At least for now.

Three days later the news breaks that Robert Gold has been arrested at his home in London, and it’s all a spiral from there. She and Killian have to explain to Henry what is going on, and she adds it to the list of the hardest things she’s ever done. He doesn’t understand, even when they break it down into the simplest of terms, and the first hour of the conversation is spent with him yelling at the two of them telling them how they’re liars and that his dad would never do anything, that his dad is a hero. It’s what they’ve told him his entire life, and it’s an awful dose of reality having to explain that heroes fall and that dads aren’t infallible superheroes even when it seems like it a lot of the time.

Her heart shatters once more, the pieces becoming a little more broken, and when Henry finally stops yelling, finally stops being angry at her, he falls into her arms and sobs as loudly as she’s ever heard him sob. His small frame shakes in her embrace, and no matter how tightly she holds him she can’t get it to stop.

She may be shaking too.

Emma promises that she loves him, promises that he is a good kid with a good heart, but all of her words seem to fall flat to a kid who’s finding out that his dad, the one he just got to know, is going to be in prison for the foreseeable future.

It’s twelve years.

That’s the deal he made with the FBI or Interpol or whoever the hell it is in charge of his case in exchange for giving details up about his father. David tells her that when he, Mary Margaret, Leo, and Ruth come over for dinner to try to distract Henry from everything that’s going on. Maybe to distract she and Killian too. David says things factually, Mary Margaret overly worries about if everyone is eating and drinking enough, and Ruth stays being the calm in the storm. It’s difficult dealing with all of these people worrying about her, especially when her natural tendency is still to close herself off and deal with it on her own, but they help. And weirdly, she holds herself together until Killian is video chatting with Liam to give him an update on what’s going on and she sees Caleb in the background lining up cars in a neat row.

She sobs once more, covering her mouth with her hands, as she looks at how at home that kid is. In all of this mess she hasn’t properly had time to talk to Liam and Belle, to let them know how happy she is for the two of them, and seeing them with their son breaks her down to her core.

“Birdie,” Liam coos, concern filling his voice while that same concern fills Killian’s eyes. “Lass, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, really unsure of why exactly she’s crying. She takes a step into Killian’s space and settles down on his lap while his arm comes to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against his body as his chin rests on her shoulder, beard scratching her skin. “I’m just so happy for you guys, and I really want to hold onto my nephew. Hi, Caleb.”

Caleb looks up at her from his spot and smiles, giving her a frantic wave before he goes back to playing.

“You can’t take him away from his cars,” Liam explains, the smile on his face exactly the same as the one that Killian gets when he’s thinking about their kids. The similarity would be weird if it wasn’t so heartwarming. “He loves the things. And trains, though he doesn’t seem to like riding on them.”

“That’s pretty much how it works,” Killian laughs as he presses a warm kiss into her cheek, making her close her eyes as a slight smile forms on her lips. “Ada loves messing with her bows when they’re on the ground, but if I put one in her hair it’s like I’m the worst person in the world.”

“Where is she? I need to see her on her last day before she turns one.”

“She’s napping,” Killian sighs. “Am I not good enough to talk to you?”

“Never. Though Emma does help. She’s always elevated you.”

“Amen,” she and Killian laugh at the same time, and the comfort of it has her leaning back to rest her cheek against his while he taps his fingers against her upper thigh, squeezing the slightest bit. “We’re going to come see you guys when life is a little less crazy, okay?”

“Take your time, Birdie. We’ll always be here.”

They talk for a few more minutes before Liam has to go, and when the conversation is over, she takes a deep breath, the air around her lighter than it has been in twelve days.

“We need to bake Ada’s birthday cake.”

“Aye. We could always buy one. There’s a bakery ten minutes away.”

She places her hands over his on her stomach and pats down. “I made Henry’s first birthday cake. I want to make Ada’s even if I’m still not the best baker.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then.”

“Hmm, probably the best thing.” She twists her head until she can slide her lips over Killian’s, their mouths lightly brushing over each other for a minute until she pulls back. “And I want to get all of the decorations up tonight because I’m not going to be here in the morning.”

“We can do that. Are you – do you still want to go? You don’t have to.”

“I need to.”

Killian nods against her forehead, every word he says making his lips brush over hers. “I know. I can come in with you.”

“No, no. I want to…Killian, I need to do this one thing alone.”

“Of course,” he says, kissing her one more time in a way that makes her stomach melt. “I’m going to go get Henry so he can help us with the cake.”

“That sounds good.”

It’s a bit of a mess baking the cake, especially when Killian and Henry keep swiping icing out of her bowl, but they do make progress on Ada’s lady bug cake. She’s turning one and won’t care what kind of cake she’s eating as long as there’s sugar involved, but this is her baby, her little lady bug, and dammit if Emma’s not going to make sure she has a good first birthday. Her boys end up being bigger helps than she expects, and Henry has a great time placing the black dots onto the rounded red cake. Just like everything else they’ve been doing, it takes her mind off of everything.

Seeing Henry be happy makes all of the difference to her when he’s been having a really difficult time. Dr. Hopper tells her that he’s handling everything as well as can be expected, and she has to take comfort in that. Dr. Lawrence says the same thing about her, and yet it’s still harder for her to accept that.

“You’re a regular star chef,” she tells Henry, wiping a bit of icing off of his face.

“I am pretty good, aren’t I?”

“Fantastic. I think your sister’s going to love this cake even more because you made it.”

“She’s a baby, Momma. She doesn’t care.”

“But she loves you,” Emma promises, pulling him into her side and pressing a smacking kiss into his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I go outside now?”

“Of course, kid. Let me get some sunblock on you, though.”

“Mom,” he groans, resting his head against the countertop in despair. “I don’t need it.”

“Yes, you do, lad,” Killian adds in. “Unless you want to end up all shriveled and wrinkly like a raisin.”

“I like raisins.”

Killian rolls his eyes before winking at her. “You’re wearing sunscreen. Let’s go.”

The baby monitor goes off to show that there’s movement in the nursery, and she opens up the app on her phone to see Ada propping herself up on the crib grabbing at her mobile to reach for the little red crabs. She’s cried so much more than any human being should cry recently, and even though she knows she’s going to be emotional over her kid turning one, over the memories of that day nearly three hundred and sixty five days ago, it’s a good kind of emotional. She’s here and alive and healthy as can be.

She and Killian did a good job when it comes to that chubby-legged menace even if one day she’s going to turn on them and try to get out of having to wear sunscreen.

Among other things.

After spending the rest of her day with her family, keeping things as normal as possible, she has a restless sleep, constantly tossing and turning around on the mattress. At one point, Killian tugs her into his front and wraps his arm around her middle while sticking his legs between hers, and she knows it’s because she’s driving him crazy with her basically running a marathon while in bed. It helps to feel his solid warmth behind her, but when Killian falls back asleep, his grip on her relents and she keeps moving. In the morning, she knows that she’d eventually fallen asleep because of the way she jerks when the alarm goes off, and even though she needs more rest, she immediately gets up and takes a shower, readying herself as if she was getting ready for her daughter’s first birthday party this afternoon.

Once she’s dressed, eyeliner applied to her eyes and her natural waves curled a little more, she quietly pads down the hallway and into the nursery to see Ada. She’s still asleep, her lips curved into a serene smile, and all Emma can do is lean down and press her lips to Ada’s forehead once more before she walks down the hallway only to find Killian standing against their bedroom door with his hair sticking up in several different directions and his arms crossed over his chest, one brow raised on his forehead.

“Did you really think you were going to slip out without me knowing?”

“I was coming back to tell you I’m leaving.” He nods his head, and she steps into his space, placing her hands against his chest so that she can feel the beating of his heart as she looks up at his tired eyes. “I’m going to be back before two, and we’re going to go on with our day like nothing out of the ordinary happened.”

“You’re going to talk to Neal in prison. That’s not ordinary.”

“I need answers, Killian. He may not give them to me, but I have to ask. I deserve to know.”

“I can still come with you. Ruth can watch the kids.”

“I still think I want to do this on my own, but thank you.” She presses up on her toes and slowly slides her lips over his in a gentle caress. “I love you, and I’ll text you when I get there and when I leave, okay?”

“Alright. I love you too.”

She studies Killian’s face for a moment more, making sure that he’s okay, before patting his chest and stepping away so that she can go downstairs. For as weirdly calm as she is, she doesn’t want to risk anything by putting too much on her stomach or drinking enough caffeine to make her jittery, so she simply grabs a water bottle and her keys before leaving the house. It’s an hour and a half drive to New Hampshire, and despite her running into a bit of early morning traffic, she makes good time.

Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, she doesn’t know, but she’s in the prison’s parking lot thirty minutes before visitors are allowed in.

There’s something she never thought she’d think.

She texts Killian that she’s here, and leaves her phone in the car before going inside and going through security after filling out all of the paperwork. It’s insane, but being here makes her feel better than she did last night. Worrying makes the reality worse before reality even gets a chance to happen, but that’s never stopped her from tossing and turning at night.

Obviously.

When she’s told that she can go inside the room, she takes a deep breath to settle the still nervous set of her stomach and finds herself settling down onto one of the center tables while the other people fill in the spots around her. A ringer goes off, a harsh buzz surrounding her, and her head turns to the side as a sliding door opens and several men in gray jumpsuits walk out. She doesn’t recognize any of them, wouldn’t expect herself to, and for a moment she thinks that Neal isn’t going to come and talk to her until he rounds the corner and enters the room after a guard.

It’s…she doesn’t like seeing him like this. He was wrong, is a criminal who hurt a lot of people even if he wasn’t actively hurting them, and he hurt her in a way that’s permanently going to affect her, as well as Henry. She’s so undeniably pissed and broken, but there are still good memories of him buried not too deeply in her brain.

She’s a mess.

Unlike a lot of other people in the room, she doesn’t get up to hug him. Instead she stays sitting and nods while he cautiously slides onto the bench in front of her with his unshaved beard and unruly hair.

“Never thought I’d see you,” he greets, curving the right side of his lips into a smile that she doesn’t return.

“Surely you didn’t think that I was never going to come.”

“Didn’t think you cared about me anymore.”

“Whether I like it or not, Neal, a part of me will always care about you,” she admits, leaning forward and placing her joined hands on the table. “How are you doing?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been in captivity, and honestly, this is a hell of a lot nicer than the first time.”

He’s trying to joke, probably to cut away some of the tension between them, but to her, all it does it make it grow.

“Why’d you do it?” she blurts out, figuring that she may as well get straight down to why she’s here. She’s got other things to do today, and if she’s not going to get her answers, she doesn’t want to wait.

He shrugs on the other side of the table, the wood dividing them in more ways than one. It’s still so surreal that this is happening. In all of her wildest dreams (nightmares), this was never one of them. There was never one even similar to this. This is…this is the absolute last place she ever expected to find Neal.

“I wasn’t always a bad guy, Ems.”

She flinches at that, but she also knows that it’s true. He wasn’t. He’s never been the best man in the world, but she loved him. She loved him before he died and she loved him in a way when he came back and got to be a part of their lives, even if it caused them all problems for a little while. But he was alive, he was here, and she was happy to have him home.

But that was then. She isn’t any longer.

“No, you weren’t,” she agrees, giving him a soft smile even if her heart feels hardened over it all, the smile more forced than anything. “But you abandoned me, Neal. You abandoned your son. A part of me doesn’t even care about all of the arms trafficking, which, holy shit is that fucked up on so many levels, but you left us. You told me over and over again that you loved me, and you left us. Why?”

His shoulders sag, his back falling toward the open air instead of leaning forward. She honestly didn’t expect him to talk to her at all, but she needed to know answers. She can’t live without them again when she’s already spent so much of her life that way when it comes to her birth parents and the eight years that Neal was gone. She deserves more, always has, and one day when Henry is older and can understand all of this, he deserves more too.

“I really was captured,” he starts, drumming his fingers on the table so that she focuses on his fingers instead of his face. “That part is true, Ems, you have to believe me. I was captured and tortured and beaten, and even though I was a shitty husband to you at the end, I did think about you and Henry to get me through it all. But then my dad – he made a deal to get me out, and I had the opportunity to come home to you guys. I was going to, but I…After everything that happened, I just needed a fresh start. I could have everything, all the things I couldn’t have at home by staying and working with my dad. I could have freedom and money and – ”

“Women who didn’t have abandonment issues and a newborn baby.”

“Ems.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

His lips part before snapping shut again, a subtle nod of his head. It’s almost like he’s accepted what’s happening, that he’s not going to deny it, and of everything, that shocks her most of all.

Asshole.

“What do you want?” he finally says.

“The truth.”

“It’s not simple.”

“I just want to know, Neal. I get it. You’re selfish. You wanted a new life where Henry and I weren’t going to hold you back, and your apparently alive father helped you out with that because he freaking had contacts with actual terrorists. I don’t – you don’t need to break my heart again by telling me that you abandoned me and lied to me when you knew I had issues with that. But I do need to know why you came back. And damn it, if you have any decency at all, I need you to tell me about all of that so I can stop wondering.”

His jaw ticks, but he nods his head anyways and she feels such apprehension but mostly relief that she gets to know.

“My dad and I had a plan. We knew if I came back home and everyone thought I’d survived for nearly a decade under captivity, I’d be hailed as some kind of American hero. It’s why I did the interview, why I continuously sought out the attention. I wanted people to know my name because our goal was Congress.”

Congress, she thinks. Why would his goal be Congress? How would that…

“You bastard. That’s why took the job in the State Department. That’s why you were so insistent on moving back to DC even though we had a life in Portland. What was the plan? Schmooze politicians and try to change laws for some kind of way to make your dad’s business bigger?”

He shrugs again, and she knows that she’s right. “That’s the gist of it, but me working at the State Department was a bit of a roadblock. I – I didn’t know that you were with Killian. I checked to see if you had remarried, but since you guys aren’t married, there was no record. I didn’t think to check for kids. I didn’t…I figured you hadn’t moved on from me, so I came back. We were going to be reunited, and it was going to be this big thing where our family made us this kind of all American dream that helped propel me more toward a role in Congress so I could make contacts in the government and help ease our sales.”

“You don’t need to sugarcoat it. You haven’t with anything else. Bribes. That’s what easing sales means, right? And what, you thought that I was sitting around waiting for you for a decade? How self centered are you?”

“I missed you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I did.”

“You left me, Neal,” she yells, making everyone in the room look at her before she quiets her voice. “There is no changing that. You abandoned your family, and I mourned you every day of those eight years. But I also grew the hell up, realized how shitty you treated me, and I allowed myself to find happiness again. Happiness that you didn’t seem to care about and yet suddenly resented when you found out I had it with someone else. And now you’re telling me that you were going to use me? You were going to use us to paint this pretty portrait to further your business and to seriously fuck up an already fucked up system? That’s – that’s…you’re a dick. I can’t even believe any of that, and yet I can. After all of this I can. I mean, God, you don’t even care about me or Henry, and yet you pulled all of that shit about how you are Henry’s dad and Killian isn’t. You tried to poison that kid against the man who raised him out of some petty jealousy, and I…did you ever even love me?”

She doesn’t know how she got that question, not really, but deep down it’s been blazing its way to the surface, breaking its way through every other muddled thought that she’s been pushing down.

She’s not even sure if she wants to know the answer.

“I’ve always loved you even if I didn’t know how to show it. I’m a selfish man, Emma. I always have been. My father is too, and it’s the only thing I ever knew growing up. I guess I couldn’t help myself. But yeah, I fucked up. I fucked it all up, and none of it worked. I’m…I guess I’m sorry that I dragged you all into this, but you were never supposed to find out about my dad or that I hadn’t been in captivity the entire time. It was part of why I was distancing myself from you guys. Yes, it was to go along with the plan, but I also didn’t want Henry to get hurt. And I guess I let myself have feelings for you again, and I was pissed that I couldn’t have you and couldn’t have the relationship Henry has with Killian.”

“That’s your own damned fault.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“I don’t think you know anything about what it’s like to have a family.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

She laughs, one of those dark laughs that makes her own skin crawl, and while she’s trying to contain herself, she rubs the heels of her hands just below her eyes. When her chest has stopped heaving, the rage calming itself for a minute, she looks directly into the eyes of the man who she once loved more than anyone in the world.

“I know more about family than you ever have, and I may screw up a hell of a lot, but I would never abandon the people I love for some money and the ability to fuck around. I would never abandon them for anything.” Emma presses her lips together before standing from the bench and leaning forward on the table. “You know, all that time that you were gone I wished you were alive, but now, I wish you were dead.”

With that, she gets up and walks from the room. He doesn’t deserve more of her time, and she doesn’t need anything else from him.

Walking out of the gates of the prison and loading up into her car is exhilarating, and as she drives down the open highway with music blaring through the speakers, she feels free. She hadn’t realized that she felt trapped until now, but the shackles that have been holding her down are no longer binding. She knows that this is all something that’s going to stay with her for the rest of her life, but that doesn’t have to stop her from living.

When she gets home, she quickly parks in the garage and steps through the door into the kitchen. There’s a spread of finger foods on the island that makes it look like it’s a Saturday and Killian is having his friends over to watch a soccer match with Henry excitedly following him around wearing whatever jersey he’s decided on today, and she smiles a little as she picks up a carrot and dips it into the sauce that’s in a bowl. Killian took the day off of work today so she could go see Neal and so they could have everybody over this afternoon for Ada’s party.

“Babe,” she calls out, grabbing another carrot and walking to the living room where she finds Killian laid out on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest and Ada sleeping in just her diaper on top of him. “Kid,” she asks Henry as he sits quietly reading his book in the arm chair, “why in the world is your daddy asleep?”

“He said that hosting people is exhausting, and he needed to nap with Ada.”

She hums in acknowledgement and walks over to Henry, shimmying down to sit in the chair next to him and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. “What have you guys been doing all day?”

“Getting ready for Ada’s party. I wanted to see if I could catch real ladybugs outside, but Dad said I couldn’t put them into the food.”

“Gross.”

“No, cool.”

“We’re not eating bugs.”

“But what’s the point of having a ladybug party if there are no bugs?”

“Because it’s cute, and it’s our nickname for Ada. But for your birthday, if you want to have a bug themed party, we’ll have lots of bugs…just outside, okay?”

“I think I want to go out on a boat for my party.”

“We should definitely do that,” Killian pipes in, sitting up on the couch and sliding Ada down onto his lap.

“Oh look, Henry, you said the magic words to wake your dad up.”

“Ha ha,” Killian mocks, rolling his eyes before he rubs the sleep out of them. “When’d you get home, love?”

“About three minutes ago. I’ll tell you about everything later, but I think right now we have to go get my bug dressed for her party.”

“What? The diaper look doesn’t work for you?”

“Only when we’re eating the cake.”

Emma takes Ada from Killian and walks her upstairs to change her diaper and get her dressed in the romper Emma has for her. It’s a hassle, but she gets the headband on her too, brushing back her slight curls as she tells Ada the story of the day she was born. She does the same thing with Henry, even if she has to embellish the details, and she takes the time to appreciate that Ada can’t complain about Emma getting all sentimental as she talks about that painful, magical day. Ada will hate hearing about one day, but it’ll forever be one of the best days of Emma’s life.

Her mom, David, Mary Margaret, and Leo show up an hour later, Ruby, Robin, and Roland following behind them as well as a few of Henry’s friends from school that she told him he could invite. Everyone is aware of what’s been happening lately, most of them intimately so, but none of them mention it as they laugh and talk and have the carefree time that she’s wanted for today. Ada loves all of the attention, really hams it up for everybody, and she laughs at her continuously trying to steal everybody’s food even if Henry is the one actually swiping food.

But eventually it’s time for Ada to finally get to smash into her birthday cake – because what better idea is there than giving a child that much sugar – and she, Killian, and Henry crowd around Ada’s high chair so that Mary Margaret can take a picture of the four of them before Killian lights the candle and they all sing. For the briefest of moments, she looks over to Killian, and he winks in return before threading his fingers through hers.

When the song is over, everyone claps, Ada moving her hands along with them, and Emma leans down to blow out the candle for Ada, extinguishing the light on the completion of one year and signaling the beginning of a new one.

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: High School Reunion

This story was written for @mycapt-ohcapt in celebration of her birthday! This was totally inspired by Chris going to his high school reunion recently.

This really is too long to be called a drabble, but I only post drabbles on this blog so that’s what it’s going to be called.

Title: High School Reunion

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

A “Welcome Class of 1999!” banner greeted you as you entered the venue that was hosting your 20 year high school reunion. You were still in disbelief that it had been that long since you’d graduated, but here was the proof.

You hadn’t become the world famous model that you had dreamed of become in high school, but you’d done pretty well for yourself. After all, it was your party planning company that had coordinated tonight’s event. You’d spent the afternoon here overseeing everything until your business partner, Maggie, had kicked you out, reminding you that tonight you were a guest and she would take care of everything.

It wasn’t until now, when you were in the restaurant with your classmates, that you realized how odd it was to actually be attending a party your company was throwing. You always tried to blend into the background and keep your eyes out to keep disasters from happening, but tonight you would be doing the exact opposite.

“You look like you need this,” a voice said from behind you.

Turning around, you found yourself looking at Chris Evans, your one time lab partner who had become a global celebrity. You’d run into him a time or two around town over the years, but only for a minute or two and you had never been able to really gage how he had changed over the years. Now, however, he stood before you with a name tag that said “Chris”, acting as if he didn’t star in the number 1 movie in the world, and holding out a wine glass towards you.

“Thanks,” you replied, taking the glass from him. You and Chris hadn’t been best friends by any means, but you had always been friendly and it felt natural to add, “Nice name tag.”

“I was told I had to wear it or I couldn’t come inside,” he replied with a shrug. “And since it was coming from the wife of one of my friends, I figured I couldn’t argue without getting him into trouble. Tomorrow’s their anniversary, so I figured I’d take one for the team.” He gave you a lazy smile and you chuckled.

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by two of his former wrestling teammates practically accosting him. He shot you an apologetic look as the two men began to talk to him at the same time and you gave him a small smile before walking away to say hello to some friends who had just walked in.

It was nearly an hour later before Chris found you again. Like in high school, you had floated in between groups of friends, catching up with people. Eventually, you had grabbed a plate of food and then had joined some friends at a table, but you were by yourself when he appeared at your side.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” he said, dropping a business card onto the table. It was obviously yours, you could tell at first glance. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who came up with this name in the tenth grade.”

You stared at the business card for a second before the memory came back to you. You’d had to build a fake business in a marketing class and hadn’t been able to come up with a name. You’d asked Chris for help brainstorming during science lab and he had helped come up with the name.

“I’m pretty sure it was a group effort,” you responded, going with your gut instinct that he was just messing with you. “And besides, you didn’t trademark it. But I did.”

“That’s because you’re a good business woman,” Chris said and he sat down in an empty chair.

“Where’d you get that?” You asked casually.

“It’s on the sign in table,” he replied with a shrug. “Not in an obvious place but there for the taking. As are the fancy pens. I grabbed a handful of the cards to give to my family. They’re always looking for an excuse to have a party.”

“Well thank you,” you told him as a familiar song came on.

The reunion planning committee had been specific that only songs released or made famous during your senior year were to be played at the party. It only took you a few seconds to recognize the song as -

“Smooth,” Chris said as he too recalled the Carlos Santana song that Rob Thomas had sung on. A small smile crossed his lips and he added, “it brings back one of the few positive memories I have of prom night.”

It only took you a second to remember what had happened to him prom night: his date ditching him for her ex boyfriend in the middle of the evening. You had gone with friends and had convinced Chris to come dance with you with the song had come on.

“Makes me wish I had stuck with my original plan of asking you to be my date that night,” he sighed. “We would have had a fantastic evening.”

“We would have,” you agreed. You hadn’t had a crush on Chris, back in the day, but you hadn’t been immune to his charm either. And he hadn’t been awful to look at then. He was the opposite of awful, now.

As the last notes of Smooth faded away, the class president took the stage and talked for nearly thirty minutes. Recognizing those that had passed since the 10 year reunion and your company’s contribution all the while ignoring the elephant in the room that was Chris’s success as a movie star. It wasn’t until one of Chris’s buddies yelled it out that Chris was there that the class president finally acknowledged the feat. (All the while gritting his teeth because HE had been voted most likely to succeed.)

The class secretary followed the class president, but instead of talking, she told everyone that the class photo would be happening in twenty minutes and that the venue was booked until 11pm and everyone was welcome to stay until then.

Chris stayed by your side as everyone got arranged for the class photo and then posed. But the second it was done, the people who hadn’t realized he was there earlier descended upon him asking for photos and wanting to “catch up with an old friend”.

You slipped away from the madness and couldn’t help but survey the party. Your staff had been at the top of their game tonight, keeping the appetizers stocked and the tables clear of abandoned plates and cups.

Hearing your name, you turned and smiled when you saw an old friend who had arrived late. The two of you spent the next hour catching up and only realized how late it was when Chris showed up at your side. He greeted your friend by name as if they had just seen each other last week instead of years ago. The three of you made small talk for a couple minutes before she had to leave, with one of your business cards in her hand from Chris.

“I’ve been asked to escort you home,” Chris told you once you were alone.

“You were what?” You asked, glancing around assuming it was a joke. Then you caught the eye of your business partner and understood when she pointed to the door; your help wasn’t wanted for tearing down the party. “You know Maggie then?”

“She’s an old friend of my sister's,” he replied with a shrug and then a grin. “And she may or may not have dirt on me that I’d rather not have my sister know about.”

“Taking one for the team again?” You asked, though you made a mental note to ask Maggie about said dirt later.

“Something like that,” he replied, but not in the same cocky manner he had used earlier when telling you about his buddy. “Did you drive?”

“I walked, my place is only a couple blocks away,” you said.

“Can I walk you home?” He offered.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “It’s really not far and-”

“I’d like to,” he cut you off. “We didn’t get to talk as much as I’d hoped we would.”

“Alright then,” you replied with a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

The two of you said your goodbyes and then left the restaurant. Conversation flowed easily between you as you walked the few blocks to your house.

“This is me,” you said, nodding to a small cottage.

“It looks nice,” Chris complimented.

“Thanks, I’ve done a lot of work on it,” you said, smiling proudly at the house. Truth was you’d put as much blood, sweat and tears into the old house as you had your business.

Chris cleared his throat and you turned to look at him.

“I have a confession,” he said. “Maggie only asked me to make sure you left. I just wanted to spend a few more minutes with you, preferably some place where no one could interrupt.”

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” you told him. “Both at the party and now.”

“I’m filming a movie in the area and I just bought a house out here, too,” he said before rambling on about other jobs he had planned but stressing the fact that he was making Sudbury his home again.

You couldn’t help but smile as you recalled that teenage Chris had rambled too when he was nervous. It was charming to know that he was still the same guy at the root of it all.

“If you’re trying to ask me out, the answer is yes,” you interrupted his ramble about how he still had a house in California.

“- I don’t plan -” he stopped midstream as your words seemed to register in his head. Then a lopsided grin stretched across his face along with a hint of pink that you could faintly see thanks to the street lights. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said with a laugh. “Give me your phone number and I’ll text you.”

He rattled off his number and you sent him a quick text that simply said: “call me to setup our date.”

“I should warn you that my weekends are pretty busy with events,” you told him. “And I’m sure your schedule will be pretty tricky, too.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Chris assured you. “Even if it’s brunch on Sunday or dessert on a Wednesday.”

“Yes we will,” you agreed as you unlocked your front door. "Well, I guess this is goodnight."

"Goodnight," he echoed with remorse in his voice.

On a whim, you kissed him on the cheek and then slipped into your house.

[speckofglitter]

goodbyes - pjh

pairing: reader x ex-dance partner park jihoon

word count: 1.4k

5:03 pm, yg university dance team training room

He came back so different. The skin of his arms was covered in tattoos and he had countless silver earrings and chains on. He looked hyper and yet tired at the same time, like he had too much coffee and too little sleep. It was almost like an illusion. The lively and cute Park Jihoon had come back looking a little too grown and a little too carefree. 

His eyes don’t sparkle the way they used to and his walk is lazy but his smile is still the same, innocent as ever. His hair is parted in the middle, he’s much taller and he smells like a mix of mint and tobacco. He still looks good though, a little too good. You wondered if him leaving without a goodbye was the first step of that transformation. He had transferred in his sophomore year, leaving you completely lost after having been his dance partner since middle school. You now face to face with the man who had haunted you for almost three years and yet you couldn’t exactly recognize him. You felt like you were daydreaming. You pictured him coming back thousands of times and yet you were still so shaken.

He found his way to you as soon as he entered the training room. You immediately looked down at your outfit, wondering why he had to show up right as you finished practicing for your duet performance, sweatshirt drenched in sweat and hair sticking to your forehead. You look down at your shoes, inspecting the dirt stains on your white converse. It felt weird, being so self-conscious around the person who had seen you like this every day for years. You had thought he would be your dance partner for life. You were sadly mistaken. Every now and again you would remember you and Jihoon laughing on your living room sofa. How magic it felt. How comfortable you were about loving him despite having no guarantee of being loved back. You were just content with being by his side.

He had called and texted you a few months after his transfer, apologizing and claiming he needed a break from dance. You had spent hours pacing around your room, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, pondering whether or not he truly cared if you responded or not. Wondering if one day he would just decide you weren’t worth it and forget about you.

“I’m sorry I never replied to your texts… It was petty of me but I just couldn’t believe you would leave me without even saying goodbye.” you breathe in, smiling weakly.

“No need to apologize. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and that was my worst one.” he says, looking at the floor. As he looks back up, he sees tears welling up in your eyes.

“We can’t look at the world with tears in our eyes. Please don’t cry. Just think of all the good times we had together.” he pleads.

“That’s why I’m crying dumbass. Do you know what it’s like to feel abandoned?” you laugh through your tears.

He grabs you, hugging you tight. Your entire world was in your arms, yet you had no idea what to do. You wanted to run away from him the way he had ran from you but being in his arms felt safe. For once you wanted to trust him. You wanted to believe that love stories could come true. He had planted the seeds to that love story a long time ago. Long before he had left and long before you were the best dancers on the team. Everyone knew you two were more than friends. You acted more like a couple than like mere dance partners. You did everything together. Most of the people on the dance team knew Jihoon was off-limits and so were you. You weren’t afraid to get your heart broken again. This time you would be prepared if it happened again. You had already been through months of crying about him and drinking the memories away.

“Will you dance with me?” he asks, pulling away from you.

“Of course I’ll dance with you. We’re not strangers you know? We used to be the best dance duet in school. Until you left…” you retort.

“I would do things differently if I could but unfortunately, I have no control over that.” he sighs, pulling you close. He grabs your phone, pressing play on the duet song you were practicing, “Too Deep” by Kehlani. Spinning you around, he starts doing the choreography to your duet. You quickly follow along, realizing it felt so much better with him. It came naturally. You felt tingles in your stomach every time your fingers would brush against his. Your fingers pressed against his chest, pushing him away as the song ended. Although it was a part of the choreography, it felt way too real.

“Don’t you think this is unfair? You left me in the dirt for years and now you just get to waltz back into my heart? Literally?” you smile playfully, wiping your forehead.

“Hey, I just did what I thought was best for both of us. We both know I was holding you back. I know how much you value dance.” he sighs.

“Yeah right.. I bet you just came back cause you miss watching WorldStar compilations with me!” you push him away.

He had always been good at pushing people away. It felt good to retaliate, even if it was only physical.

2:28 am, your apartment

It seems like you’re back to where everything began. The only lighting in the room is your laptop with the brightness turned up to the max. Jihoon is basically crushing you, head laying on your belly as you watch WorldStar and Vine compilations in bed together.

“I love you y/n… Ever since the day that I met you I knew you were the girl of my dreams.” he mumbles out of nowhere, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. When you look into his eyes, all you can see it the loud and mischievous 13-year-old Park Jihoon who you had fallen in love with.

He leans in slowly, eyes lingering on your smile before kissing you. Your heart is beating faster than ever as he pulls away but as soon as you see his eyes re-open, you pull him close, kissing him again. You had been dreaming of this moment for so long. You feel intoxicated as he grabs your thigh hesitantly, eyebrows furrowed in passion as he kisses you harder. It wasn’t necessarily lustful, it felt genuine, almost fragile. You had been yearning for each other for so long it felt surreal.

11:20 am, the next day at your apartment

You wake up to the sunlight pooling into your apartment. You panic for a moment before realizing it’s the weekend. You feel a bitter taste in your mouth as you also realize that Jihoon isn’t next to you anymore.

“Disappointed but not surprised. I guess guys just really want one thing.” you scoff, getting up to get a glass of water.

As you approach your kitchen counter, you see a bouquet of violets with a small note next to them. Your heart skips a beat as you open the note.

I’m so sorry I had to leave early to get my new apartment settled (yes I’m really coming back) but I heard that violets signify loyalty so I got these for you. Hope you like them because you’re stuck with me now! Oh, and I’m taking you out tonight so dress warm baby ^^

Your favorite dance partner :-)

You giggle as you see his little smiley face, grabbing the flowers to put them in a pot on your desk.

9:21 pm, jihoon’s car

You’re riding around the city in Jihoon’s car with the top off as you admire the night sky. The silence in the car is comforting. You feel his gaze on you as you turn around, grinning.

“Stop staring!!”

“Wow… I can’t believe you’re attacking me like this? I just got back I have 3 years worth of admiring your beauty to catch up on!” he yells, focusing back on the road.

“Ew that’s creepy!” you laugh.

“I know you love me.” he shrugs.

“Trust me, I adore you.” you smile, grabbing his free hand and lightly kissing it.

He gasps, feeling your cold lips on his skin. You catch him turning red and giggle again.

Love isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s strikingly tender and sometimes it’s passionate and dizzying.  And sometimes you find yourself having faith in a partnership even if you’re not sure if you’ll land safely. Waiting for the perfect relationship to manifest, knowing there’s no such thing. Love is sacred, celestial even, but definitely not sure.

hope you guys like it 🌹love you all 💖✨

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masterlist - requests are open !!

- ya girl tiyi 💖