#except they’d probably nod/tip their hat

[chuck-the-goon]

Moomin AU - A certain nomadic Spirit of Spring (Snufkin), asks Jack to watch over his best friend while he’s away for the winter season. Jack, with a soft spot for the fluffy little trolls, agrees wholeheartedly.

(Partly inspired by an old and beloved piece by @avril-circus)

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme! For TimKon, either 17. “Please stay.” or 34. “When did you know for sure?”

May I offer you: an angst with a happy ending? (who am I kidding; it's you, of course I can)

“When did you know?” Kon asks, staring out well past the horizon. Tim thinks that surely, he must see it, must be able to tell, he’s got fucking super vision of various sorts, but… But he sounds so dejected about it. Like he… like he hadn’t been able to tell. “For sure, I mean, when did you figure it out?”

“Um,” Tim says, and picks up a handful of sand on this very not-at-all real version of Kon’s favourite beach in Hawaii. “Last… night.”

Kon’s face burns bright red and Tim can’t really look at him anymore.

It all feels too real, even though this place isn’t anything of the sort.

And he’s pretty sure that includes Kon.

It had been a smart plan, Tim can tip his hat at the villain du jour for that, at least metaphorically. Trap Tim in a simulated reality, but instead of making it somewhere he knows inside and out, like Gotham, like Happy Harbour, they’d programmed him into a place he only knows in story and rumour. Tim wouldn’t really have any way of determining if there were differences between the real Hawaii the real Kon’s been talking about for as long as Tim’s known him, and this fake, simulation of it. And the programmers had done a pretty perfect job with Kon, too, except for the parts where he can’t tell that this whole place is a simulation, and the part where…

“My Kon, I mean the one who’s not a computer programme, because, like, he’s not mine, mine,” Tim starts. “He’s not… y’know. In love with me.”

Kon is silent for a minute, just staring out at the water and at the small waves lapping steadily higher up the beach while the sun rises. Tim would find this whole conversation a lot less excruciating if computer!Kon was wearing more than boxers with the House of El logo on the crotch, but, well, this simulation was designed to trap and torture him, so he’s not.

“I don’t feel like a computer simulation,” Kon says finally, and buries his toes in the sand like he’s making a point of feeling the sensations. “I remember — I remember meeting you when you were still Robin and I didn’t know who I was beyond Superman’s replacement, and I remember Bart, and Young Justice, and Cassie, and the Teen Titans, and dying and—”

“They probably built you off a brain scan of the real Kon,” Tim says. Tact and gentleness have never been his fortes but, fuck he tries this time.

“Right, and just, like, tweaked my memories so that I can remember being in love with you half that time, and the entire time I was lost in Gemworld, and—”

“Yeah, I guess they must’ve,” Tim says, even though it makes him want to puke. “This place is too… it’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

Kon scoffs, and makes a choked off noise that’s all too familiar after last night and Tim flushes with shame that he knows what Kon sounds like now. The thing is, it’s a very, very good simulation, and this isn’t knowledge Tim should have, because out in the real world, Kon doesn’t want to share that information with him.  It’s none of Tim’s business, no matter how desperately he wants it to be.

“Nice to know I’m apparently good enough in bed to convince you it’s all too good to be true,” Kon says, with forced bravado.

Tim swallows, because that assessment isn’t untrue, but it’s only part of the story. “Also I think my biometrics must’ve spiked high enough to temporarily overload the system, because a bird clipped through our room while we were, uh…”

“Oh,” Kon says, blushing even harder. “So, um, now that you know this is fake, does that mean you’re going to escape?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. He swallows. “I just have to crash the programme, make it generate something so insanely huge its processing power can’t keep up.”

“Oh, right, just that,” Kon says. He very gamely swallows, and because he’s built on a very convincing facsimile of Tim’s real Kon, he stands up and nods. “So what do you need me to do?”

**

Tim is not surprised when the explosion they trigger in the simulation tips him out of it’s destabilising pixelated mess into a sketchy futuristic lab. Spaceship? Probably spaceship by the black starfield outside the windows.

He is surprised when his own exit from the gel couch matrix situation is echoed by someone else in another matching chair thing behind him.

He grabs for any kind of weapon available and rounds the central structure, ready to strike, only to find himself face to face with—

“Kon?” he demands. “You’re here too?”

Kon defuses the heat vision that had been starting to build behind his eyes, and then just stares at Tim, blushing a violent red like the heat vision had dispersed through his cheeks.

“Of course he is here too,” an annoyed voice that gives major evil scientist vibes says over the PA. “The simulation traps work best when there are two parties within them to reinforce the shared folie à deux!”

“Sh-shared?” Kon asks.

“Both of us were in the same—” Tim starts, and he understands Kon’s blush better now because he can feel his own viciously taking over his face.

“You thought I was a simulation,” Kon says, floating out of his matrix plug in chair to loom over Tim even taller than he usually is.

“You’re in lo—” Tim starts, but their captor’s voice crackles over the PA system again.

“Yes, yes, teenaged angst. You may continue your argument once my assistants have placed you back in your simulation!”

“We’re twenty-one, actually,” Tim corrects. “And you can—”

He means to tell the disembodied voice exactly where he can expect Tim’s bo staff (as soon as he finds it in one of the cargo pods here in this space station situation they’ve got going on) but Kon cuts him off by pulling Tim’s face into his hands and kissing him.

No birds clip through the walls this time, and the sensation of Kon’s TTK sweeping over him, like it’s not enough to just be touching Tim with his hands, like he has to touch all of him at once, is one that Tim hadn’t been able to fully conjure up out of his imagination. It’s different enough that Tim actually forgets for a second that they’re imprisoned on a space station and have been under for god knows how long, and he seriously considers simply climbing Kon like a tree right then and there to get the actual physical details mapped out.

“I can’t believe you thought my love confession was a simulation,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s lips.

Tim hums and kisses him again. Really, actually kisses Kon. Who really, actually wants to kiss him, too. “I meant it when I said you’re too good to be true.”

“Good thing we’re in a really shitty situation we need to figure our way out of if we want to get back to earth so I can show you the real version of that beach,” Kon says. “Because that part feels pretty on par.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, and sighs. He can hear the distant thuds of whatever sorts of robocop automata their captor has coming towards them now, and this fight’s gonna kinda suck, he thinks. At least there will be one hell of a reward for making it through to the other side. “Ready to fight for our lives?”

“With you?” Kon asks, and can’t help himself but to pull Tim in for one more kiss. “Always.”

[huggingkrobus]

Your Voice Makes My Ears Bleed

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Shane x fem!Reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: Shane just wants a night alone at the bar, but God, you just won’t shut up.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 1.6k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: A sprinkle of angst.

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Enemies to lovers :0

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: Yes

[ ❥ ] NOTES: Unedited, read at your own risk (edit: this is part 1 and I cant think of anything to write for part 2 lol help)

»»————-　♡　————-««

“9:25,” read the clock.

Like a hostile reminder: “Hey, you’ve been here for hours. You’re really wasting your life away, aren’t you? God, so pathetic.”

He wished he could smash that clock. Throw it to the ground and stomp on it. Probably get a piece of glass stuck in his shoe, then he’d have to buy new ones. That’s the only reasonable thing he could think of as to why he shouldn’t throw that clock off the wall right then and there: he didn’t have enough spare cash for new shoes.

The black-haired boy sat glass in hand, elbows propped against the familiar hardwood. Glossy and warm, accustomed and preciously glazed. Hundreds of rings sat dried on the shine of the bar. He knew they were all his. No one else ever sat there except him.

Maybe Pam. She came there a lot. Maybe she and Shane could have been friends if they’d talked sooner. Now it’s just weird, feels wrong. They’ve gone so long without talking that it’s just a silent agreement between the two of them to leave it at that. So they do.

Today, Pam got to the Saloon after Shane. Not too long after, but it made him feel bad. He never got there before her. Was it this bad?

It was so late at night that he wasn’t expecting anyone else to pay a visit to the Saloon, but the door creaked open again and, in stepped a taller girl beaming with youth. Some may have even described her as ‘perky.’ In fact, Shane was pretty sure Leah actually had.

“Evening, Gus!” you spoke excitedly. Shane cringed and wondered how anyone could be that way willingly. So bright. It’s 9:30 at night, tone it down.

“Good evening. Can I get you anything?” Gus gave his usual spiel while washing dishes to prepare for closing.

You leaned down onto the bar, tipping your straw hat slightly upward to get a better look at the menu, “Hmm,” you stared, scanning every line before looking back at Gus, “You got any Sashimi tonight?”

Shane rolled his eyes and tried not to scoff loud enough for you to hear him. Sashimi? Why would anyone like something like that? It’s just raw fish, how could something get worse than that?

You must have heard him anyways because when he looked back in your direction to continue eavesdropping, all he saw was your eyes looking at his, eyebrows pinched downward with what was either annoyance or anger. He was too drunk to tell.

“You got something against Sashimi, chicken boy?”

He looked at Gus, trying to avoid any sort of confrontation, but Gus didn’t look back. He was busy working.

“Of course, I have something against Sashimi. It’s raw fish and that’s it. How could anyone ever in their right mind-”

And that’s when he noticed you were laughing. A soft and joyful laugh. He was confused.

“I was kidding, I don’t care. Everyone’s got different opinions, I don’t mind. This isn’t even for me anyway. Pierre has had a Sashimi craving for days now, and I can’t seem to get my hands on the stuff.” You looked at him with what he tried to recognize as a sincere smile. All he felt was embarrassed. You looked back at Gus, “So, you got any Sashimi?”

Gus scrubbed a dirty plate and looked disappointed back at you, “Sorry kiddo. We were selling some last night, seems you missed it,” He paused briefly to turn off the sink and dry his hands, “Thankfully for you, I should be getting some more fish soon if Willy hurries up. That man’s been having a rough season, can’t seem to catch anything lately.” Gus leaned against the bar after speaking.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Real shame. Real early spring isn’t good for fishing I’ve heard. The cold’s going away and the fish don’t know where to go.” Gus nodded slowly in response.

After a brief pause, he spoke up again, “On the subject of fish, tonight’s special is fish taco if you’re interested. Might as well eat something before you leave.”

A smile grew on your face, “That sounds great Gus, I’d love one if you don’t mind.”

Gus turned around to begin preparing the taco, “It’s my job!”

Shane tuned the rest out. Boring conversations about things he doesn’t even pay attention to. He picked out a few keywords like ‘Saloon’, ‘coop’, and ‘video game.’ The cheerful and politeness of it all made him almost sick to the stomach. The word ‘chicken’ really brought him back to focus.

“Coop should be done tomorrow!” you started, “Then I’ll head to Marnie’s for a chicken or two.”

“And these are your first chickens?” Gus asked.

“Yes sir!”

“Shane here is an expert at all things chickens,” Gus pointed slowly at Shane while grilling a fish, “He may not look it, but I assure you he’s the guy to go to when you have questions.”

You glanced back to Shane with what he thought was a scowl in his drunk mind, “I don’t know if he’s the best to go to for advice,” You looked back at Gus to point at Shane, “Look at him,” you attempted to whisper, “I think I got this.”

And he knew that was personal. It’s not like you didn’t know each other. You definitely did. And that’s what made it hurt more. Your history wasn’t good, but it was long. Sophomore year of high school, chemistry class. You sat right next to each other. A copy and paste next to a guy in a stained hoodie. A recipe for disaster.

Your teacher was too dumb to see that this was a bad idea.

You hated him because he talked about chickens too much. He hated you because your lip gloss smelled like cupcakes, and it made him want to throw up. You hated him because his boots always had dirt on them. He hated you because your thousands of pens and highlighters always spilled onto his desk.

We could go on.

It was the little things at first, but they piled up fast. Before Shane met you, he was sure he would never have the heart to kill someone with his own hands, but by the end of the year, he was quite certain he was capable of murder.

You had no reason to hate each other now. Sure, you still wore that lip gloss, and sure, he still talked about chickens too much, but most of the stuff he hated back then had faded, right?

But when you said what you had said he knew you were no different. Old habits die hard, he guessed.

Usually, he would choose to ignore it. But this time he was drunk. And he was very bored. And you looked extra punchable today.

“I’m right here,” he said.

You smiled devilishly, knowing precisely what you were doing, “I know.”

“You think just because I’m a sad drunk you can say stuff like that to me and it won’t affect me,” He stood up from his barstool and drank the rest of whatever alcoholic contraption was in his glass, “You think just because we’ve been doing this for years that it’s still okay? I’ve been trying to change you know,” he moved closer to you, and you backed away as much as you could on a barstool, “Clearly you haven’t. I thought you’d be mature enough by now to have realized that’s not okay. Now that I’m an adult and I’m not okay. We’re not teenagers anymore.” his speech barely slurred, and as he began rounding the corner, he could feel it.

The dizziness kicked in, and he knew it was coming. His stomach churned, and before he could think, he ran out the Saloon door to the closest trash can.

And he vomited. This taste was familiar to him; the sourness that coated his tongue. It was a part of the routine. Get mad at yourself, drink, get mad at the world, drink, vomit, repeat.

His stomach felt empty. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and sat on the stairs of the Saloon. The door creaked open behind him, and you sat down next to him.

“Hey.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry about that. Seriously.”

He didn’t even look at you.

“I didn’t think you’d get that hurt by it.”

He didn’t even want to look at you.

“I mean, you talk about chickens a lot, so I guess it’s pretty obvious you’d get hurt by a comment like that.”

Maybe it was the embarrassment.

“Still, I’m sorry.”

Or maybe it was because he hated you.

“Shane.”

Or maybe it was the sound of your voice.

“Christ, Shane, stop being so childish, why won’t you-”

And so he did the only thing that would shut you up. Maybe if he thought about it more he would realize that after he did it you would talk even more. Thinking ahead wasn’t his forte.

He kissed you. Quickly, only for a few seconds. But he put his lips on yours without thinking and it didn’t feel wrong.

He was the one to break away. He kept a hand cupped on your cheek for a few seconds until you pushed him away to speak.

“Goddamnit Shane, you taste like vomit!” You yelled, standing up from the stairs to walk a few feet away from where he was sitting. You crossed your arms, “Why did you do that? Do you hate my voice that much?”

“Read my mind.”

You rolled your eyes and stormed away, “Jesus Christ, you are insane.”

And so he sat on the cold, concrete stairs. Alone.

He’ll apologize tomorrow.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] ~ HUGGING KROBUS

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

~

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking  sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer’s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!”  Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

[dinosaurtsukki]

[ malt whiskey on ice ] 

pairing: chuuya nakahara x gn!reader (there’s an error in the header but i’m too lazy to edit it now i’m sorry)

word count: 2k words

@ah-kaashi​: dinooo im having chuuya brainrot hours right now ಥ⌣ಥ can i request a short fic of chuuya meeting bartender!reader at a bar and eventually starts pining for them? and he only goes to the bar to see them (ahh my heart) he probably would confess to the reader whilst drunk, thanks to his low alcohol tolerance :"

summary: chuuya has a crush on the cute bartender and tries to ask her out. unfortunately, drinking alcohol calms his nerves way too much

a/n: i’m--- i’ll just have a really long list of works under ‘chuuya nakahara’ at this point. also ahhh i hope you like this kei and sorry it took too long but i had so much fun writin this !!

“chuuya-san!”

chuuya could never get tired of hearing your bright, cheery voice greeting him as soon as he entered the bar, especially after a long and hard day. he smiles at you, fold his coat and leaves it on the counter beside him along with his hat.

“a good evening to you too, y/n,” he says.

“having your usual?” you asked, already getting out a glass.

“yes please.” 

chuuya knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t help but do so as you prepare his drink. the fact that your humming easily puts a smile on his face reminds chuuya how much he has fallen for you.

“here you go,” you serve his drink up with a warm smile. “malt whiskey with ice.”

“expect some refills as usual later in the night,” chuuya joked.

“as long as i get to make sure you’re still able to drive home,” you chuckled. the bar was less than half-full tonight, something that chuuya was very much thankful for. you were an amazing bartender and you always interacted with your customers. chuuya was even amazed at how you could hold a conversation with anyone and remember all the stories that people would tell you.

but sometimes, he kind of wanted you all to himself. 

chuuya had been mulling that thought over for quite a long time: asking you out on an actual date instead of coming here every single night and looking at you longingly from across the counter. he did think he had a bit of a chance and you looked like you genuinely enjoyed talking to him and seeing him. but you were like that with everybody too.

“so, what’s been going on with you lately? finally finish that mission you’ve been stressing out on?” you asked while drying glasses behind the counter. chuuya smiled, dragging a gloved finger through the rim of his glass.

“well, if you’d really like to know...”

...

“you look like you’ve seen better days.” 

“huh?” chuuya blinked out of his thoughts to see the new bartender regarding him with a concerned expression. 

“you’ve been staring at your drink for the past... ten minutes...give or take,” you explained. “people do tend to stare at their drinks quite a bit but when it hits ten minutes that’s kind of raises an alarm for me,” you chuckled. “the ice even melted in your drink. want me to fix you a fresh one?” 

“ah, no. but thanks for the offer though,” chuuya smiled. “shame to waste good alcohol.”

“i hear you,” you shrugged with a smile. “so, wanna tell me what’s been going on?” you asked. “bartenders do make good listeners.”

chuuya raised an eyebrow up at you as he thought about what you said. “um, it’s kind of a long story and i don’t think i’m ready to get into it now,” he confessed.

“that’s fair,” you nodded your head. chuuya was grateful to you for giving him some space. actually, now that he thought about it, he was grateful to you for always greeting him with a smile and asking how he was, even when he came in with the sourest of moods. he knew it wasn’t easy to be a bartender, especially one whose clients were from the mafia.

“how about you though?” chuuya asked. “um, anything special happen to you recently?”

you looked genuinely surprised at the question which made chuuya think that people never really asked about you. “you know, no one’s ever really asked me that,” you chuckled. “but... it’s nice. thanks, nakahara-san.”

chuuya doesn’t know why, but his stomach was practically doing backflips when you said that. have you always looked this cute when you laughed? how come chuuya never noticed that?

“please,” he says. “you can call me chuuya.”

...

“you never chicken out of anything. come on, you can do this,” chuuya grits his teeth, remembering not to accidentally crush the bouquet in his hands. right after finishing his mission early, he headed to the nearest flower shop to buy some flowers for you. as much as he wanted to give you red roses, he thought it would be a bit too much and didn’t want to accidentally scare you. instead, he settled on some pink peonies that he dearly hoped you would like.

chuuya decided on going to the bar before your shift just to give himself some time to relax. except, when he sits down on the counter, the bartender, an old man who chuuya knows very well, eyes the bouquet in his hands and flashes chuuya a knowing smile.

“do you think they’ll say yes?” chuuya asks, very aware at how nervous he sounds.

“i think it’ll be very interesting,” the bartender says. chuuya groans at how ambiguous that sounds.

“can i have my regular? please?” he asks. the bartender raises an eyebrow at him. “it’s just for the nerves,” chuuya reasons.

he was right in thinking that the alcohol would help with his nerves. except, it works a bit too much.

...

you always give your reflection a once-over before leaving for your shift at the bartender. the bartender’s uniform isn’t exactly your nicest outfit but you try your best to spruce things up by putting on some lip tint and brushing your hair. you’re not even sure if chuuya will be coming in, he is a busy man, but you apply your lip tint carefully in the mirror and wish for luck.

when you finally leave the employee’s changing room to start your shift, your heart jumps up in your chest when you recognize the familiar hat. except, when you come closer, you find that chuuya is slumped over the counter with an empty glass and a bouquet of flowers at his side.

the sight of the flowers brings a lump in your throat but you push that aside momentarily as you tap on chuuya’s shoulder to check on him.

“chuuya-san?”

“hrrrmmm,” he groans but doesn’t move an inch. you tap him on the shoulder again and call out his name, much louder this time, until chuuya finally raises his head. 

his cheeks are flushed pink, no doubt from the alcohol, and his eyes clearly look as if he’s straining to focus as he squints at you. it’s unbelievably cute and you let out a chuckle. 

“it’s not like you to get wasted on a thursday evening,” you smile before your gaze lands on the bouquet of flowers again. “i... see you were planning to ask someone out.”

“huh? yeah,” chuuya drawls, nodding his head slowly. “s’pposed to ask this person out... was waiting for them.”

“and then you ended up drinking too much,” you sigh. “i mean, i keep telling you your alcohol tolerance isn’t that great.”

“wanted to be less nervous,” chuuya whines slightly as his head drops back again. you reach your hand out to hold him back from pitching forward and slamming his face onto the table.

“oh my god, let’s get you sobered up at least before you meet them,” you sigh. it was a thursday night and no one else was at the bar. it probably wouldn’t hurt to step out for a while, wouldn’t it?

you’re practically dragging chuuya behind you to the employee’s room and sitting him on the couch you have there. except, once he sits down he immediately flops on the couch and curls up on his side. you’ve rarely seen the mafia executive look as vulnerable as this with his hat barely even on his head, his red locks framing his sleeping face, and his curled hands under his cheek. chuuya looks just like a little kid and you smile to yourself as you brush a lock of hair out of his face.

you already knew he was a mafia executive when you first met him here, at the bar, and was understandably quite scared of him at first. ‘he’s just a paying customer, like everyone else,’ you reminded yourself before putting on a winning smile to serve him. 

little did you know, you were going to absolutely fall for him. chuuya was always kind and courteous, even tipping more than generously whenever he came in. but what struck you about him was that no matter what, even if he was having the worst of days, he would always ask how you are. as a bartender, you were used to being the one listening instead of being listened to. the fact that chuuya always asked about you and even remembered your ramblings made you smile.

part of you wondered if you had a chance with someone like chuuya. ‘but i guess not,’ you thought sadly, gently laying the bouquet of flowers on the side table. as soon as you did, chuuya shot up from the couch.

“ch-chuuya-san!” you yelped slightly in surprise. 

“flowers... where are they?” he slurred, blinking around at his surroundings.

“here,” you smiled, placing the bouquet on his lap. “that person’s lucky, you know? to receive flowers from you.” 

“yeah...” chuuya smiled. “y/n sure is.” and before you could fully process what he said, chuuya flopped back down on the couch.

“wait, what?” you squeaked. you turned to chuuya and shook him awake. “did you just say y/n?”

“yeah... you know them? works here, always smiley, looks hella cute,” chuuya chuckled before looking at you with the tiniest pout on his lips. “do you think they’d go out with me?” 

you’re astounded and let out a small laugh. “i... i think they would chuuya. just ask them, alright?” 

“alright,”  chuuya nods and yawns before curling up on the couch again. you, on the other hand, are beside yourself with giddiness and it’s taking you all of your self-control not to wake him up. instead, you leave a glass of water and some headache medicine that you keep in your bag and return to your shift.

...

chuuya wakes up a few hours later with one of the worst headaches he’s ever had and his mouth feeling like sandpaper. also, he has no idea where he is. 

he sits up, blinking at his surroundings as he struggles to remember what happened before he practically blacked out. ‘i was in the bar. i got a drink, and then...’  

chuuya’s gaze lands on you, curled up on a nearby chair with your jacket draped across your torso and suddenly he remembers what exactly he was doing at the bar in the first place. “shit, shit, shit,” chuuya curses and sits up. he actually got blackout drunk before even getting the chance to talk to you and now you had to take care of him. chuuya hated to admit that his alcohol tolerance was low and now it seems he’s suffering the consequences for it.

his luck takes a turn for the worst when the noise stirs you awake.

“chuuya-san? you’re awake,” you yawn sleepily.

“fuck, i... blacked out, didn’t i? y/n, i’m so sorry it must have been so troubling for you,” chuuya immediately apologizes.

“it’s alright--” 

“like, i came in before your shift and i thought drinking would settle my nerves a bit before asking you out and--” chuuya abruptly stops when he realizes what he accidentally blurted out loud. the look on your face says it all though.

“i... “ he starts and stops again. then, he realizes that the flowers he bought are still on the table. so, he picks it up and hands them to you. “i, i really like you, y/n. if you don’t hate me after all this, would you consider going out with me?” 

there’s a smile on your face when you take the flowers for him and chuuya takes it as a good sign. and then you say, “you know, you said a lot of things while you were drunk.” 

chuuya feels his face flush and lets out a groan. “oh god, like what?” 

“we can talk about it if you like,” you shrug. “i’m... i’m free on saturdays, after my five pm shift.” 

chuuya feels his heart leap in his chest and says “i’m free this saturday too,” a bit too enthusiastically, earning another laugh from you. he’s still feeling that euphoria when you stand up and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“also, you’re really cute when you’re drunk.” 

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumusdomain​​ @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo ​ @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @amberalisa​ @whootwhoot​ @liz-multifandom-hotel​​ @kac-chowsballs​​ @violentfarewll

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Seven - A.R.

Word count: 4883 Summary: Arvin has to avenge Lenora but has to see y/n before he leaves.

-

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (fem recv), DIRTY TALK (mild), EXHIBITIONISM (kinda? car sex basically). a LOT of emotions.

TW: mentions of guns, the preacher being the horrific person he is

It was a week later and probably the worst week of my life. I was ultimately grounded: not being able to go to cheer practice, not being able to leave the house and of course, not being able to see Arvin. I would still cook and bake for the Russell's but I'd just drop it off at the door or give it to Earskell outside.

Daddy was getting worse and school was getting more stressful due to exams coming up. Ma and I were not talking much. Only statements, really. Nothing more, nothing less.

I missed Arvin. But I was angry at him and confused about the previous week and why he acted like that. He just gave up, just like that. He has always been so protective of me but in that situation he left me with the wolves. 

And on top of all of that, I was dealing with grief: an emotion I had never experienced before. Some days I felt numb and all I wanted to do was go to Arvin about it but I couldn't. And I was still dumbfounded at the fact she was pregnant and I had no idea. Lenora had somehow had sex and not told me. Maybe she didn't even know she was pregnant.

I often sat at my desk, pencil twirling in my fingers, thinking and wondering and daydreaming about him; when really I should be studying.

What was he doing? Did he miss me? Was he planning on seeing me again?

I could only wonder what he'd be doing at this moment...

Arvin's POV

I watched from the drivers seat, slumped with my cap low.

Reverend Teagardin had just gotten home from his rendezvous in the woods with the Reaster girl and was now greeting his wife. I saw him begin to take his suit jacket and tie off while gesturing for her to undress, too.

I clenched my jaw watching him. He undressed down to his shirt and socks, sitting proudly and smugly on his armchair like he owned the place. Like he owned her.

She sauntered up to him in her nightdress and dropped to the floor, hands on his thighs. I watched as he pushed her down fully on him.

I felt nauseas. I turned away and opened the window to get some air. I didn't like what I was doing but I had to do it. For Lenora.

After I'd seen enough, I drove home in silence. I didn't listen to the radio anymore. Just didn't feel right without y/n.

Despite the planning, the darkness and the grief going on in my life, the only thing that kept me going was the fact I might see y/n soon. But even then, I don't know if she'd even want to talk to me.

I had to leave to protect her and her parents. I understood them. I was the bad guy and she was the good girl and that's how it always was and always will be. There's no changing that.

When I got to the house, Earskell was sitting on the porch, a cigarette in his mouth

"You're late." He stated as I walked towards him.

"Yeah." I sighed.

I took my hat and jacket off then sat down next to him.

We sat in silence but it was far from that in my head.

I needed to leave tonight. But I had to see y/n. And I had to say some sort of goodbye.

But when I opened my mouth to say something, I closed it again. I wanted so bad to say goodbye but they'd be better off knowing nothing if the law came looking for me.

"Uncle...you have to be good to Grandma,"

I felt my eyes tear up. Thankfully it was dark so he couldn't see.

"She's hardly been out of bed since the funeral and without y/n here, she ain't been doin' good."

"I know." Earskell clenched his jaw.

"Grandma needs you, alright?"

He turned to me and nodded. But he looked longer than usual. It was almost like he knew.

I waited outside until Earskell went to bed. I walked in behind him and stood in the quiet house, my foot tapping the floor in thought.

If I was going to do it, it had to be now.

I collected my thoughts and quietly went into my room, packing a bag of basic clothes. My heart raced as I moved. Was I really doing this?

I stood and rubbed my hands over my face. I was crazy. What was I thinking? I sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, looking up at the art on the wall.

I never liked that drawing. It haunted me. Everything about this house and this town haunted me. Everything except from y/n.

I reached under my bed and pulled out an old wooden box. I sat it on my bed side table and opened it.

My daddy's old gun sat in the middle, accompanied by some bullets.

I gulped, staring at the weapon for a few moments before picking it up and loading it with shaky hands.

I placed it in my bag and left my room. I had every intent just to go. In the dead of night, just leave. But as I passed Grandma's room, I knew I had to write her. So I did. I quickly got out a pen and paper and wrote her a goodbye letter.

Dear Grandma, I'm writing to you because I cannot say goodbye to your face. I love you and I will always remember the things you have done for me. What I'm about to do, I do because I have to, not because I want to. Please do not try and find me. Love your grandson, Arvin.

I rolled it and sat it in a tin can. I quietly opened her bedroom door and tip-toed in, gently placing it on her bedside table. I looked at her for a few moments and then left, heading out her room, down the hall and out the front door. I got into the car, throwing my bag in the back and driving off.

It was 2 o'clock in the morning so I wouldn't expect y/n's parents to be awake. I drove up the drive of her house, nerves and adrenaline rushing through me. I parked before the gate and hopped out. There were no lights on except from one. The front left window on the second story. y/n's room.

I smiled and walked carefully along the gravel, trying not to be too loud. I picked up a few of the small gravel stones in my hand and grinned up at her window.

I aimed and threw a stone. It hit her window perfectly. I smiled, the realisation that I might see her dawning on me. I threw another, and another, and another. I was about to throw yet another until she pulled her window up.

She peeped her head out the window and looked down in shock.

"Arvin, what the hell?!" She whisper-shouted.

"y/n! Come down, please." I dropped the stones, wiping my hands on my jeans.

She looked behind her and I could see her hair pulled back messily. She must have been lying in bed.

"I can't!" She whispered.

"y/n, I really need to see you."

She scoffed, "Maybe you shouldn't have been such an asshole and I might have come down."

I hung my head, "I'm sorry, I really am. I was just trying to protect you-"

"Protect me?!" She hissed.

"Can you just come down and we can talk about this? Please?" I clasped my hands together.

She hesitated, looking at me to her door and then back at me again.

"Wait in the car I'll be there soon." She whispered before shutting the window.

I grinned and silently celebrated, returning back to the car to wait on her. I bit my lip nervously, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.

But soon a figure caught my eye. I saw y/n exit her house and close the door carefully. She checked her surroundings before jogging over to the car. She was in a white blouse with a white A-line skirt. Her hair was intricately pleated and tied with a white silk ribbon. She looked ethereal as I opened the door for her and she got in. She didn't wear any makeup so I could see her freckles that peppered across her skin and her natural glow in the moonlight.

"Hi." She gulped nervously.

"Hey...d'you wanna go to the lake?" I asked.

"Sure." She nodded.

I pulled out and drove away and onto the familiar road we took to go to our spot.

"So, y/n I just-"

"I recommend we talk when we get there because if I scream at you and we get into an accident, that's my fault." She stated, not taking her eyes off the road.

I gulped, "Okay."

We drove in silence down the quiet roads. No one was out except from travellers. We finally reached the lake and I parked just beside it.

It looked picturesque; the moonlight shining onto the river making it gleam at the stars and the trees were full and lush.

Reader's POV

We sat in silence for a few moments. It was awkward and tension filled the air. I had snuck out and risked getting grounded again for this.

"Arvin, why am I here?" I finally asked, arms folding in front of my chest.

"Just to see you. I needed to see you." He spoke quietly.

I felt all the emotions come back to me but I didn't have enough energy to shout at him.

"Why did you leave? Why did you do that?" I asked.

He sighed, "I was protecting you."

I rolled my eyes, "Protecting me? Protecting me from what?"

"From your parents kicking you out or for them hating you for the rest of your life because you wasted it on me." He snapped.

"Wasted? You think that if we were together it would waste my life?" I turned to him fully.

He lay his head back, "I'm not like you, y/n. I'm not rich, I don't live in a fancy house, I don't work in some office job. I wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted and that's why your parents don't like me and I understand that."

I spluttered then scoffed at his negative attitude.

"Arvin, you are you and that is all I want." I felt tears spring into my eyes.

He turned his head to look at me.

"I don't need a fancy house or tons of money..." I shook my head and reached over to take his hand.

"But I do need you." I took his hand to my lips and pressed kisses onto his skin.

He watched me and I could see him tear up.

"I can't ruin your life like this." He shook his head.

"You are not ruinin' my life, Arvin. You're doin' everything but that. My life is miserable without you." I smiled slightly.

He moved his hand from mine and traced his calloused hand over my cheek, then pushing some stray hairs behind before cupping my face. His thumb stroked my skin softly as a tear rolled down his face.

"Oh, Arvin," I exhaled in sympathy.

"I'm already causin' trouble. I snuck you out at two o'clock in the mornin' I mean, that's not very responsible is it?"

I chuckled, "We're still teenagers, Arvin. We can still have fun. We don't need to be responsible all the time."

He slightly smiled, looking at my lips then to my eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked in a whisper.

I nodded, "Kiss me, Arvin."

He brought his lips to mine as I rested my hand on top of his. Our lips touched and it was as if nothing had happened and we were back to normal. It was soft and sweet, our lips moving in sync like we had done this a million times before. He slid his tongue into my mouth and I hummed at the taste of him. He moved his hand from my face to my waist and squeezed my skin. I took the initiative and crawled onto his lap.

It was a little awkward with my skirt but a chuckle and a giggle we resumed, lips clashing together in a new passion. Our tongues pushed and swirled in each other's mouths, exploring as much as we could.

His lips travelled to my neck and he sucked and licked over my skin. I moaned, threading my finger through his hair as I leaned back, allowing him more access to my neck. He kept going, kissing the spot on my neck he already knew I liked. I pulled him as close to me as possible and rolled my hips in reaction.

I moaned in pleasure and confusion. Arvin hesitated for a moment but when I experimentally rolled my hips again, he held them tighter and kissed my neck with more fervour.

I picked up a rhythm, grinding my hips down onto Arvin's jeans. The friction between my pants and his jeans sent pleasure coursing through me.

"Does that feel good?" Arvin asked even though he knew my answer.

"Feels so good," I moaned.

He helped my hips move faster on him and we stopped kissing in concentration. I tugged his hair in my fingers, closing my eyes to enjoy the unexpected pleasure. I paused to rip Arvin's jacket from his shoulders and to take his shirt off. He complied, lifting his arms and then shaking his hair back into place once it was off.

"Back seat." I mumbled breathlessly as I kissed his lips.

"You sure?" He asked in the same manner.

"Please." I whimpered.

We pulled away and I got off of him, shedding of my blouse and skirt on the passengers seat before getting into the back seat and lying down. Arvin removed his jeans awkwardly but then climbed on top of me relatively easily.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck as he dipped down to meet my lips again. His slid down my sides, cupping and groping my breasts covered by my bra. I gasped, arching up into him. He smirked at my reaction and snaked his hand around my back, unclipping it with ease and then throwing it in the front seat.

He palmed my boob with one hand while the other cupped my face, our lips sloppily kissing one another.

He started to kiss my jaw, my neck and then went further, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down my breasts, my stomach and he stopped at my panties. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and I lifted my hips to help him take them off. He slid them off and discarded them.

I furrowed my brows in confusion when he didn't come back up to face me again. Instead, he lifted my legs and readjusted himself between my legs. I suddenly felt self-conscious as he was face-to-face with my crotch.

"Arvin, what're you-"

"Tell me if you want me to stop, baby." He said lowly before dipping his head between my thighs.

I gasped and gripped his hair instinctively as he licked my skin from my thigh to my core.

"Arvin," I moaned, his breath fanning over my core.

He looked up at me with his dark, lustful eyes as he licked a strip from my entrance to my clit. I bucked my hips onto him in shock and pleasure.

I had never even heard of this. I knew people had sex. But I didn't realise this was a part of it.

"Taste so good, baby." He mumbled.

His tongue flicked upwards on my clit and gained a steady pace. I held his head tightly, my fingers messing up his hair. I had never felt such pleasure before. His hands held my thighs but I noticed when one of them slipped from my skin.

I looked down at him and whimpered at the sight of him between my legs, tongue working against my clit expertly.

"Feels so good- oh my god!"

He slipped a finger into my entrance with ease, curling up to find my spot.

"Shit! Yes!" I arched my back, removing a hand from his hair to grip onto the back of the seat for some stability.

The duo of his tongue and his fingers was nearly too much for me to handle. Nearly. He kept going, never halting and praising me through it.

"Look so amazing, baby. Feel so good. Taste so sweet, darlin'."

"Arvin, I'm so close." I choked, feeling the same knot form in my stomach.

"Go on, baby. Come for me."

I held his hair and pushed him further into me as I felt my high approaching. He groaned as I chased my high, feeling myself clench around his fingers. His tongue never stopped and neither did his fingers as I came. I moaned loudly, my free hand trying to grip onto anything around me. My high washed over me euphorically, his mouth and fingers still riding me through it.

I pushed his head back a little when I became sensitive to his touch and he pulled away and lifted me off my back and swiftly onto his lap. I was still hazy but he kissed me softly, tucking some hair behind my ear.

"You did so good, baby." He uttered against my lips.

"That was...so good." I sighed in satisfaction.

"D'you wanna feel me?" He asked lowly.

I bit my lip and nodded, "Yes. God, please."

He smirked and lifted me up slightly with one arm as his other pulled his underwear down to his knees and he shrugged them off. I gulped at the sight of him again. He went to touch himself but I beat him to it, wrapping my hand around his member.

His breath hitched in his throat and he rested his hand on my thighs as I pumped my hand up and down, my thumb brushing over his tip each time.

I lifted off him and swiped his tip through my folds and then eased myself onto him. We both moaned as I sank down on him, bottoming out almost immediately because I was so wet.

"So tight, darlin', fuck." He groaned.

I moved up and down on him, picking the speed up relatively quickly.

Soon enough we were both panting, moaning messes. I bounced on him mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping filled the fogged car and I gripped onto his shoulder with one hand and the inside handle on the door with the other. Arvin's hands stayed on my waist, helping me to move up and down on him.

"Fuck, it feels so good. You feel so good, Arv." I moaned.

"So good for me, y/n. So fuckin' good." He leaned forward and encased my lips in a wet kiss before flipping me onto my back.

I gasped and then moaned in upmost pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back into me, his member hitting deep within me.

He dipped his head down to my neck and I clambered at his back, leaving scratch marks over him.

He thrusted into me relentlessly and I wrapped my ankles around him, bringing him as close to me as possible. Suddenly he shifted me down slightly and I moaned as his member continuously brushed against my spot.

"Yes! Right there, fuck!" I moaned, gripping onto him with dear life.

He continued, his grunts and moans filling my ears. I gripped his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

"Fuck, I love you so much." He said into my skin.

My heart fluttered, "I love you too. So much."

"You gonna come for me? Gonna come a second time for me? Good girl."

His words coaxed me into my second high. I arched my back and moaned louder than I should have but it felt too good. I held him as close to me as possible as he thrusted into me, every brush making my orgasm more intense.

"Fuck- baby, I'm gonna come." He groaned.

I released my legs from his waist and he pulled out of me, leaving me feeling empty. I replaced his hand quickly and pumped him on top of my core. He watched with an agape mouth, pleasure consuming him as he finished. He painted all over my lower stomach but I didn't mind. I enjoyed watching him finish. I loved the fact I made him finish.

"Shit," He crashed next to me, panting.

We sat listening to each others breathing before he sat up and grabbed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. I giggled as he brushed it over my skin, cleaning me up softly, mindful of the fact I was still sensitive.

He reached behind the seats and retrieved a blanket we'd often use for cold nights.

"I'll put the radio on." I smiled.

I reached forward and turned on the radio. A song finished and I sat back. Arvin had found a comfortable position in the corner and tapped next to him. I smiled and sat where he gestured, both of us putting our feet up and relaxing into each other.

'I'll Never Smile Again' by Frank Sinatra came on the radio and I nuzzled into Arvin's bare chest.

(PLAY NOW!)

Arvin's POV

"I love this song." She sighed sweetly.

I gulped, knowing that this song would now have a whole new meaning to her after this conversation. In fact, it was pretty fitting.

"y/n, I gotta tell you somethin' that might seem crazy and horrible but..." I spoke nervously and I could already feel the lump beginning to form in my throat.

She squeezed me a little, "What is it?"

I took a few deep breaths, gathering my thoughts and what I was about to tell her.

"I needed to see you tonight because...because I'm leavin'. Tonight."

She paused and then sat up, holding her half of the blanket over her chest.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

I gulped, "I have to do somethin' and I can't be here anymore."

"What d'you have to do, Arvin?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.

I looked into her eyes, "I need to avenge Lenora." I said truthfully.

I think she immediately knew what I meant. She stopped and stared at me with the same blank expression for nearly a whole minute.

"y/n please say somethin'."

"I uh...I don't know who you're gonna hurt. But do you really need to?" She asked.

I nodded, "I have to. I won't be able to rest until I do."

Her chin began to quiver, "But I need you."

She broke into a sob and I brought her close to me, holding her head to my chest and rubbing her back soothingly.

"You will be just fine without me, y/n. I know you will."

"How can I live my life knowin' you might be out there. Or what if you die, Arvin?! What will I do?!" She sat up, facing me, tears staining her once glowing face.

I cupped her face and wiped her tears away, "I love you. And I will always love you, y/n. You need to know that. If I could, I would stay with you."

She cried into my hands and I felt myself begin to break.

"I would stay with you. I'd marry you, I'd have kids with you and get a house with you. I'd spend the rest of my life with you if I could, y/n. But I can't." I felt tears fall down my face.

She shook her reddened face in my palms, "I can't go on without you, Arvin."

"Hey, yes you can." I stated.

"You will be just fine. You're startin' college after the summer and you'll be gettin' a job, a life."

"Without you." She cried.

"I know. I'm so sorry it has to be like this, y/n."

She looked at me, "I'm sorry, too."

I brought her back into me and we sunk into our original position. We were both still crying and we both knew.

"Keep close with Grandma but don't tell her anything about me. I don't want her worryin' and I don't want her knowin' if she doesn't have to." I said, kissing the top of her head.

"Okay." She nodded.

"I don't know where this'll take me. I don't know if I'll get in trouble for it, killed for it, or what. But I can't come back here even if it was to be with you."

"How could we reconnect if you did survive and get through it?"

I sighed, "I have no idea. I could be half-way across the fuckin' country."

She sniffled and wiped her nose, "I can't believe this is happening."

"I know, darlin'. I know." I kissed her head again.

We sat listening to the radio just being with each other for another hour. We fell asleep for an hour after that, wrapped in each other with the blanket draper over us. The sun rising woke us up. We awoke at the same time and readjusted our position to how it was before and watched the sun turn the sky red, pink, purple and orange.

"Ain't this the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" She asked quietly, as if trying not to disturb the sun from continuing its venture into the sky.

I moved her hair away from her face and tilted her chin to look up at me.

"Nothing can or will ever be more beautiful than you, y/n." I said softly.

She smiled and colour rose to her cheeks. I leaned down and kissed her. It was deep and meaningful and timeless. Like the world stopped just for us. It was breathless and beautiful and it made my heart ache knowing I would never have this again.

She was the love of my life.

"I'll need to drive you home before your parents wake up." I sighed, pulling away from her.

She closed her eyes in dread but nodded in agreement.

We got out and peed then changed into our clothes. She took her hair out of the plait so it was wavy. I'd never seen it like that before. She looked beautiful. I leaned against the bonnet of the car with a cigarette in my mouth, watching the lake liven up again and the sun poking through the trees. y/n walked up slowly to me and stood next to me, wrapping her arms around me. We both looked at the scene in front of us and took it in.

"Let's get on the road, alright?" I whispered to her.

"Okay." She gulped.

I disposed my cigarette then we got in the car. I reluctantly drove away and we got back on the road, heading up to her house.

My hand stayed gripped in hers the whole way. I drove as slowly as I could up the drive but we reached the gate and I had to stop.

We turned to each other and crashed our lips together. We were both already crying so the breathlessness and the salty taste on our tongues was mutual. I cupped her cheeks and threaded my hands in her hair, then down her back and her waist to her hips and her ass, squeezing and then coming back up.

We both parted but stayed millimetres away, gasping for air.

"I love you." She said hurriedly.

"I love you too." I said it back.

"Fuck, I don't wanna get out the car." She cursed.

I brought her head to my clavicle, pressing my lips to her head and inhaling her scent.

"I love you." I said again as she pulled away.

She reached for me again, our lips meeting in a rushed, passionate manner.

Her hands moved into my hair to down my chest and then back up to cup my face.

"Fuck, I've gotta go, Arvin." She panted, a tear falling down her cheek.

"I love you." I said.

She hesitantly pulled away, our hands still intertwined.

"Be safe and do what you have to do, alright? I will always love you, Arvin." She said shakily.

"I will always love you, y/n." I stated, my eyes blurring.

She waited and paused and I knew she was about to go.

I leaned in again, kissing her deeply, getting the last taste of her, swirling my tongue hurriedly around hers in an attempt to savour every last moment with her.

We pulled away.

"I love you, Arvin."

"I love you, y/n."

She immediately got out the car. Slamming the door shut to rip the band-aid even more. I watched her as she walked up her driveway and up the steps to her house.

My heart shattered when she got in and shut the door without looking back.

"Fuck."

****

I sat down a few pews back from Reverend Teagardin, resisting the urge to shoot and kill him on the spot.

"Excuse me, Preacher?" I spoke up.

I looked up at him from my cap.

"You got time for a sinner?"

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​}

[janetbrown711]

"You're everything to me" - Dot

Yakko didn’t dare let his siblings out of his sight the whole way back to Acme Falls. He couldn’t convince himself that they were alive if they weren’t right beside or in front of him. This feeling of protectiveness was only heightened when they were offered a ride from none other than the Baron himself.

Yakko had tried to refuse most adamantly, but he knew that they’d have to walk to Acme Falls by foot if they didn’t accept and Dot was still sick and weak (as well as injured from the cannonball) so they really didn’t have a choice.

Still. Yakko sat across from Plotz with his arms wrapped around his tired siblings and he watched the man with anger and curiosity as to what made him change his nature so suddenly.

Neither the Baron nor Yakko spoke much once in the carriage, and Wakko and Dot eventually went to sleep, which Yakko thought was fair. They had had quite the day, and it wasn’t over quite yet. They were still going to get Dot’s operation done, and the sooner the better.

“So... I know you’re wondering why I offered you a ride back to Acme Falls. You’re suspicious, which I don’t blame you for,” The baron spoke. Yakko rolled his eyes slightly.

“Considering how much you’ve always been out to get us and just about everyone else in the town? Yeah, I’d say I have a right,” Yakko glared. “And especially when you consider the number of times you tried to kill us today alone.”

“Right... yes...” The Baron looked away and held his hat in his hands, embarrassed.

“I know what I did, and I apologize. My greed overtook me as Baron and I promise to never collect another penny for the king ever again,” He promised and Yakko looked him up and down, unsure.

“Well- the King won’t be in power for much longer anyway, so I suppose I’ll need to do more...” Plotz said and looked out the window.

“What do you mean by that?” Yakko raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, well after seeing what the King did to Dot, the guards quickly turned against him, and with rebellions against the king getting stronger in other towns it’s only a matter of time before he’s gone and the people will start looking for the true heirs to the Warnerstock Throne,” Plotz explained.

Yakko froze.

“I... uh...” He couldn’t respond. For years he had wanted nothing more than Salazar to be punished for his heinous crimes, but... well.. that????

He hadn’t expected that.

“Oh yes, there are quite a few rumors going around as to where they could be,” Plotz said, completely unaware they were sitting right across from them. Yakko gulped.

“Well... I uh, hope they find them,” Yakko said, wishing to end the conversation as soon as possible.

“Yes well, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” Plotz agreed.

“I do want you to know I am very serious about this apology. I don’t apologize very easily, but please, do let me know if there is anything I can do for you three,” He said, looking back at Yakko.

“Well, I do know the people of Acme Falls probably want their money back,” Yakko said.

“Consider it done. Once we get back, I’ll make sure to get started on returning all of their money I still have,” Plotz said, and Yakko nodded and the two returned to their silence, which relieved Yakko.

At least Plotz wasn’t trying to be all ‘buddy-buddy’ with him. Now that would’ve been awkward. However, Yakko really didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts right now, so begrudgingly he started up another conversation.

“So... now that you won’t be tax collector, what do you think you’ll do?” Yakko asked. Plotz put back on his hat and thought a moment.

“I think I’d like to open a restaurant,” He said. Yakko blinked, expecting him to say more, but he didn’t.

“Alright,” Yakko said.

“What about you three?” Plotz asked in response. Yakko sighed.

“Get Dot her operation... go home... relax...” Yakko said, hugging his siblings a little closer as he looked out the windows into the mountains.

He still couldn’t believe how close he had gotten to losing them, and how he did almost nothing to prevent it. He just sat there, dumbfounded. He was always so useless like that...

“Are you alright?” Plotz asked, and Yakko noticed a tear had managed to escape his eye.

“S-sorry, yeah,” He said, quickly wiping it away. He was usually much better at keeping a brave face...

“It’s alright, you went through a lot today. You should allow yourself to rest,” Plotz advised. Yakko knew he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t like that it was coming from him of all people.

“Yeah maybe,” He shrugged.

After that, they all rode in silence, and Yakko just hummed songs to himself to try and distract his thoughts. However, the songs made him tired and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

He was woken up when the carriage jerked to a stop and they were back in the town square in Acme Falls. Yakko nudged his siblings awake while Ralph held the door open for the groggy Warner siblings.

“Where we goin’ Yak?” Dot asked, rubbing her eye, wincing in regret as she remembered that was the bruised side of her face.

“We’re going to stop by Dr. Scratchnsniff’s and give him the payment for your operation, which will hopefully be tomorrow,” Yakko said. “Then, we’re going to go home and we’re going to have a conversation about that little stunt you pulled,” Yakko looked down at Dot and she looked away from him in shame.

“Well... thanks for the ride,” Yakko said to Plotz.

“No problem,” Plotz tipped his hat at him. “You three have a safe walk home, alright?”

“We will, thanks,” Wakko replied. Plotz nodded, and Ralph closed the door and drove the carriage away.

Taking a deep breath of the cold winter air to revive himself, Yakko started walking to the doctor’s office, holding his siblings’ hands as they went.

The streets were full of happy people as they all unpacked from their journey past the mountains. A few congratulated Wakko and reminded him to spend his ha’pennies well before going back out and drinking more of whatever that elixir Dr. Scratchnsniff and Hello Nurse had made while on their trip (a story he’d have to ask for later).

Eventually, they made it to the doctor’s and knocked on the door, scowling at the closed sign.

“Excuse us, the sign says- oh, hello Warners,” Hello Nurse smiled down at them.

“Hi! We’re here to pay for Dot’s surgery,” Wakko said, showing her one of his ha’pennies.

“Well... the doctor said to keep out all business... but I suppose I can make an exception for the three of you,” She winked and let them in.

“Why’d he say that?” Wakko asked.

“Oh, we recently had a breakthrough with our elixir and the people are loving it,” She said, petting a cat that was on her desk as she sat down. “He’s trying to figure out how to make more before we run out and never find it again.”

“Faboo,” Wakko smiled. Hello Nurse chuckled and nodded.

“Indeed... so when do you think you’ll be ready for the surgery?” She asked Dot. Dot’s tail twitched nervously.

“We were hoping for tomorrow,” Yakko spoke for her. The nurse nodded.

“Well... I’ll have to talk to the doctor, but seeing as this is a dire need and you’ve waited plenty long enough, I’m sure he’ll agree,” She said confidently before writing something down on a piece of paper and leaving, leaving the Warners with nothing to do but sit and wait.

“Are... are you sure you wanna do it tomorrow?” Dot said.

“I’d ask for them to do it tonight, but it’s getting late enough as it is,” Yakko sighed, rubbing his face.

“Why?” Dot asked.

“Why?” Yakko couldn’t believe what he heard. “Because I want you to be safe and okay as soon as possible. I need to know you’re okay, actually okay, and that you aren’t going to die on me the moment I take my eyes off of you,” Yakko said, looking at her. Dot clutched her shawl tighter and looked away.

He was going to say something, but that was then the nurse reentered and Yakko had to fill out the paperwork, and they were forced to put a pin in that for later. With tired eyes, Yakko filled out the boring and long paperwork as best he could before giving it back to the nurse and handing her the ha’penny, and heading back to their home.

When they arrived, Yakko couldn’t help but relax. Despite everything, they had made it back alive.

However... he knew the upcoming conversation was going to get a bit messy. He sighed, taking in a deep breath.

“Meet me around the fireplace sibs, I’ll be there in a minute,” He instructed. Wakko and Dot didn’t argue, nodding and heading off.

Yakko leaned against the wall and grumbled, trying to collect his thoughts even though he was tired. However, that really wasn’t working so he decided he’d just try to be as understanding and a good listener as much as possible before going in. He figured trying was the best thing he could do.

Yakko went in.

“Look Dot, I’m going to be honest, I was really, really hurt by that little stunt you pulled,” Yakko said, sitting across from Wakko and Dot on a crate. “So... I just want to know... why?”

“I... I knew I was slowing you down. I was coughing, I was weak, a-and when the cannonball blew everything up I-i just thought that if I could just distract Salazar and everyone else then maybe you’d take the chance to go for the star,” Dot looked at the ground.

“But we wanted to reach it together Dot, we weren’t going to leave you behind,” Wakko said.

“I know, that was the problem,” Dot looked at him. “I-i wanted to be left behind, b-but you guys were so stubborn, s-so I knew I had to do something to help,” She said, glancing at Yakko.

“And what would you have done if your plan hadn’t worked, hm? What if Wakko didn’t realize you were alive before he made his wish and instead he had wished you were alive? Then what?” Yakko crossed his arms.

“I-i don’t know,” Dot sniffled, and Yakko realized she was crying.

“See, that’s the problem. You didn’t think any of it through. You didn’t think about what your death would mean to me and Wakko.”

“O-of course I did Yakko! I just knew th-that you needed to reach the star first,” Dot objected.

“Dot, if you died, none of that would’ve mattered anymore,” Yakko said, his voice cracking under emotional stress. Dot’s face froze, and a deafening silence entered the home.

“Dot... the whole reason we went after the Wishing Star was for you, so we could pay for your operation,” He explained softly.

“When you went limp in my arms... I just... I just fell apart...” Yakko practically whispered as tears streamed down his face that he hurriedly tried to wipe away, trying to bottle it all up.

“I already lost Mom and Dad... I couldn’t lose you too.”

“Y-yakko I-i’m sor-”

“A-and then when Wakko ran out there a-and I heard the cannon go off... I thought that was it. I sat there, like some idiot, and just... I just-” Yakko looked at both of his sibs and broke down, burying his head in his hands and sobbing. Wakko and Dot looked at each other before running over to their brother and hugging him as best they could.

“I-i promised her, I promised I could take c-care o-o-of you t-two a-and th-then y-you guys j-just- j-just-” Yakko’s whole body was shaking.

“Y-y-yakko I-I’m so sorry,” Dot was sobbing just as much as he was.

“M-me too, I-i n-n-never meant to scare you,” Wakko apologized too.

“A-and with the bridge, a-and y-your cough, a-and the guns, a-and the avalanche...” Yakko’s mind couldn’t stop thinking about all the times they’d nearly died today alone.

“I-I just ca-can’t lose you guys,” He sobbed, hugging them closer. “Y-you’re all I have left. Y-you guys are everything to me.”

Wakko and Dot could only nod, not daring to break their embrace and lacking the words to express how much he meant to them too. Dot sniffled and gave it a shot.

“I-i’m still h-here Yakko, a-and so is Wakko. W-we aren’t going anywhere,” Dot said between sobs mixed with a cough.

“Y-yeah! Me and Dot aren’t going anyw-where,” Wakko hiccuped. Yakko did his best to embrace those words; to hold them close and wrap himself within them. He focused on feeling his sibling’s arms around them and felt himself calm down more.

“I-i know,” He said, placing a hand on one of their arms. “I-i just... I was terrified...”

“I-I’m so sorry Yakko, I p-promise, I’ll never, ever try that again,” Dot said, squeezing him tighter.

“You better not,” Yakko said, half-jokingly, “Or else.”

“O-okay, okay I promise,” Dot chuckled.

Eventually, all three of the Warner siblings' tears ceased, and everyone felt much, much better, though it left them all exhausted. However, none of them wanted to split up, so they all decided to sleep in Dot’s bed for the night. After all, it was plenty big enough for all three of them.

Slowly and tiredly, they all climbed in and cuddled close against Yakko, both of their heads resting on his chest so they could hear his heartbeat.

Yakko wrapped his arms around both of his sibs, and closed his eyes, secure in the fact that they were safe, they were home, they were alive, they were together, and everything was okay.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[fallout4reactsblog]

A Very Commonwealth Christmas: Year Two

“Are we seriously doin’ this again?” Gage griped from his place beside the window. “It sucked last year.”

Ada shook her head. “Actually, by my calculations, the endeavor was a great success. Sole’s enthusiasm and overall happiness was far above predicted values. As such, it is only logical to repeat the exercise.”

Cait (who still refused to even look in Gage’s direction) huffed. “So long as we do somethin’ fun this year.”

Preston smiled gently, showing his infinite patience once again. “Of course. I wouldn’t ask you to do the same thing twice, so we’re switching things up a little. Is everyone familiar with the concept of Secret Santa?”

A mixed bag of responses came back.

“Well, it’s simple. I’ve written down everyone’s name on a piece of paper and put them in this hat.” He tipped the hat to show them the neatly folded squares of paper. “Each of us will draw a name, and you’ll get a gift for whoever you draw. Sole was worried that we didn’t exchange gifts ourselves last year, so this year we’re going to make that happen.”

“And what if we don’t like whoever we get?” X6 asked, not looking directly at Deacon, but the subtext was clear.

“You’ll just have to pretend. Remember, for the next few weeks, we’re all good friends as far as sole is concerned. We all get along.”

To Preston’s credit, he did manage to not glare at Gage, X6, or any of the others that were deemed “troublemakers,” but they got the message. He’d made plenty of threats last year if people didn’t get along, threats that were not empty and, undoubtedly, very much still on the table.

“But what about sole?” Piper asked. “Is their name in there?”

Preston shook his head. “They’re not playing. According to them, the effort of us playing is enough.”

Ada took the hat from Preston’ hands. “We will go in alphabetical order to draw names. Cait, you will draw first.”

Cait was at least kind enough to wipe her hands off, freeing them of the looser flakes of dried blood, before snatching out a name. It seemed that the reading lessons between her and Piper had been going well, because she didn’t ask what it said. That, or she was too proud to admit it.

Slowly, they passed the hat around. Some people were better at concealing their reactions than others; Deacon might as well have been wearing a mask for the emotion he showed, but Curie didn’t even try to hide her distaste for whoever she’d drawn.

“Alright, people.” Preston clapped his hands. “Because of the game, I’ve called in some extra help from the settlers to get the other preparations done. You should have plenty of time to get your presents. You’ve got a week.”

Ada

It was a pleasant surprise to have drawn MacCready, in her opinion. Though he wasn’t someone she’d spent much time around, he was a fairly easy man to understand. Plus, it was unlikely he’d be expecting much from her. After all, he would put more effort into his own family celebration than this one, and wouldn’t expect her to do anything but the same.

Still, a part of her wasn’t content with just getting something easy and moving on. That wasn’t the spirit of the game, now was it? But she couldn’t well talk to MacCready directly, so she hunted down the closest person to him.

“What would I want?” sole asked, wiping their hands off on a dirty rag. “Ada, you know that I’m not playing.”

“Of course. But you know all of us the best, do you not? And you have quite a lot in common with my partner.”

“Well, alright.” They leaned back against the workbench to think. “I mean, anything at all is enough to make me happy. A new coffee mug would be nice, though. I’ve been looking for one that’s shatterproof so I can just toss it in my bag on the road and not have to worry about it getting chipped or anything.”

“That is a helpful insight.” Already, her mind was working, thinking about things that could make life on the road easier. “Thank you.”

“Sure, anytime.” They turned back to the workbench. “Good luck.”

Cait

The evening found Cait curled up next the fire, beer in hand, bitching with Hancock about the whole thing.

“How am I supposed to know what Deacon wants?” she said, glaring at the bottle in her hand as if it was to blame. “I don’t know shite about him.”

“No one does. That’s his whole gimmick.”

“Makes him a shitty person to find a gift for, then, doesn’t it?”

“Just get him a box of ammunition or something. It’s a good, generic gift.”

She glared at him. “Do you even know if he uses a gun?”

“Well, now that you mention it, no. But there’s gotta be somethin’ like that that’ll work. Rad-X, or RadAway, or RadSomethingElse that he needs.”

With a sigh, she took another drink. “You reckon sole’ll mind?”

“They’ve gotta know how he is, right?”

She shook her head. “Who did you get, though?”

He crinkled what was left of his nose. “Guess.”

“Someone you don’t want, by the looks of it.”

“I’ve got the ol’ tin can himself.”

She snickered into her drink. “Bad luck.”

He let out a long sigh. “Anythin’ for sole, right? I’ll dig up a gift for crew cut, you find somethin’ for shitty James Bond, they’ll be happy and we’ll move on.”

“Yeah, sure. Anythin’ for sole.”

Codsworth

Of all the people that could’ve drawn Hancock, it had to be him.

Most people, of course, would take the easy way out. A box of chems would be more than enough to make him happy, and would be easy to procure in the Commonwealth. But it just didn’t sit right with him. It just wasn’t his style, so he needed a new idea.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to just get some drugs?” Farenheit asked.

“Positive.”

“Shit.” She blew out a long trail of smoke. “That makes things harder. Do you mind gettin’ your hands dirty?”

“I’ve been known to get into the occasional scrap.”

She nodded. “A while back, John lost his lighter to some punk, a raider or somethin’. He said it wasn’t a deal, never went and got it, but if you could get it back, I bet he’d like that.”

“And where is this hooligan now?”

“Last I heard, he was hiding out in Dunwich Borers.”

Not the safest place, but he could probably talk sole into going with him. After all, if they heard raiders had moved back in, they’d want to take care of business.

It was better than any plan he had, at least.

Curie

She wouldn’t have called herself a mean person usually. She liked to think of herself as someone who was generally kind and understanding, someone who was forgiving above all, someone who wouldn’t judge others based on rumor alone.

Porter Gage was her one (and only) exception. Which made her current situation awkward, to say the least.

Worse was that there wasn’t anyone to ask, was there? Except for sole, no one knew much about Gage, and those she was closest to happened to hate his guts on principle.

But for the next few weeks, that wasn’t allowed. She could harbor no ill will toward Gage, and instead had to consider him as just another friend of sole’s. Of course, usually that meant she would go straight to sole, but they were off-limits for direct questioning. They didn’t want to know who had drawn whom, which left her with only her own critical thinking to figure this one out.

While her critical thinking had not failed her, it seemed her own ability might.

“Sacre bleu,” she swore under her breath, staring down at probably half a dozen mirelurks. This area was supposed to be peaceful, and she’d hoped to track down some pre-war bug spray. It was no secret that he was no fan of insects, and as much as she hated to agree, these mirelurks were really starting to get on her nerves. Damn giant water bugs.

At least she had found the spray, and she was safe hiding up here in the rafters for the moment. How she was getting down was uncertain, and how she was going to dodge the mirelurks without losing a leg was also up in the air, but she’d gotten what she came for.

Danse

At least he had luck on his side. Of all the people to get a gift for, Cait had to be the easiest for him. She may not have liked him, necessarily, but he understood her better than he understood most of the others. The only better pull would have been Preston, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“I’m glad,” Preston said over breakfast. “Maybe it will help her warm up to you a little.”

“I wouldn’t be certain. I understand her hesitance; it’s a wonder to have been so widely accepted by your Minutemen.”

“Our Minutemen, now.” Gently, Preston tapped his shoulder with a fist. “But speaking of the game, I don’t suppose you’ve spent much time around Ada?”

Danse turned to him, surprised. “I would have thought you were more than equipped to be paired with Ada. After all, she has been the other primary organizer for the holidays around Sanctuary.”

“Yeah, but that’s all business.” Preston sighed. “I don’t think I know much about her as a person.”

“She seems to have affinity for the same kinds of junk that sole does. Perhaps something related to that?”

“Good idea.” He glanced up from the fire and smiled. “Thanks, Danse. I bet you’ll get a great gift for Cait.”

“I hope so. You’ll undoubtedly make an excellent selection for Ada as well.���

Deacon

“You’ve known sole a long time, huh?”

“But of course!” Codsworth says, dusting off the top of the fridge. “I have known sir/mum since even before the war. Before young Shaun was born, even!”

“And you’ve just stayed here this whole time?”

“Certainly. A Mr. Handy never abandons his post!”

“Must be hard.”

“It’s certainly not the easiest work, but I am happy to do it for sir/mum. It was easier before the war, when we had such modern amenities as vacuums and indoor plumbing, but I will endure for their sake.”

“That kind of loyalty’s hard to come by,” Deacon said, leaning back. “Sole’s lucky.”

Codsworth made a noise akin to a scoff. “They’d be luckier if they ever remembered to bring a new feather duster as I asked. I’ve been waiting months now.”

He shrugged. “They’ve got a lot on their mind. Little things lost in the mix. Happens to the best of us.”

It’s the nature of Mr. Handy’s to be talkative, which only gets worse when left alone for a couple hundred years. Still, at least it’s fun to stretch those interrogation muscles again. It’s been a while.

Gage

He knew this was rigged. It has to be. His luck wasn’t bad enough that, of all people, he drew Preston fucking Garvey out of that hat. Even worse, no one would trade with him; they said that it’s not the nature of the game. It was fuckin’ stupid.

So he was stuck with the one guy that hated his guts more than anything. Fuckin’ great. Worst part was, he would have to actually make an effort, because sole had been so thrilled he’d played nice last year, and the last thing he wanted was to get on their bad side. The Overboss’s anger was a dangerous thing, after all.

He hadn’t had much of a choice but to ask sole, despite their insistence on not knowing the pairs. An exception had to be made. After all, he wasn’t sure who else to go to, and they knew Garvey well enough to put him on the right track. Which left him here, digging around the catacombs in the Castle.

“Back in the day, there was a sword that the leader of the Minutement carried around,” sole had said. “Ronnie told me about it. I bet if you tracked it down and polished it up, he’d like that.”

So here he was, choking on dust, searching for some rusted-out piece of junk that probably didn’t actually exist.

“You’re doin’ this for sole,” he muttered, rummaging through a shelf that seemed to only have bags of cement.

Anything to dodge the Overboss’s wrath, even playing nice with fucking Garvey.

Hancock

The worst part was that he knew exactly where to start. He didn’t like it, oh no, in fact he hated it beyond belief. But he prided himself on giving good gifts, tin can or no, and this was a real easy one, if he could just make it work.

At least it was easy to convince sole. They’d gone out for a little bartering, he’d volunteered to come along, and from there it was easy enough to suggest they swing by the Prydwen to barter with Teagan and get paid for those technical documents. Both very time-consuming items, and both things that tended to draw attention once sole had their nice clothes on for bartering.

The nice thing about the Prydwen was that sole had keys to everything. All he had to do was “borrow” their key ring, find the right key, and he could stroll into Maxson’s living quarters like he owned the place.

His prize was easy to find. It seemed ol’ Arthur hadn’t moved on as well as he pretended; Danse’s holotags were sitting right on top of his desk, beside his terminal. They clinked as he picked them up. Sole had mentioned they’d had to turn them in to Maxson when Danse got exiled, and he’d noticed the former Paladin often reaching for a chain around his neck to find only empty air. Which made this gift the best anyone would be giving, hands down.

“Hey, there,” he muttered, turning them over to check the name. “We better get out of here before somebody sees us, huh?”

The nice thing about sole was that they were far too engrossed in bartering to even notice he’d been gone.

MacCready

What were you supposed to get a man that already had everything he needed? It wasn’t like coursers were supposed to want things anyway. Heck, did he even have use for anything except fusion cells?

Sole’s time being a precious commodity, it seemed, left him with three options (three fellow synths, if he was honest). One: Curie, the sweet scientist who had been a synth for about five minutes and had as little in common with X6 as anyone could, save for being a synth. Two: Nick, who didn’t like X6 and probably never would. Both bad choices which, tragically, left him with lucky number three.

Admittedly, since last years mutfruit disaster, he and Danse had upgraded from “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, and that’s fine by us” to “your presence around me isn’t the literal worst” which was a marked improvement. Still, he made the effort to catch Danse while he was working on his power armor, which meant he was probably in a half-decent mood and less likely to try to kill him.

“You sought me out for advice because I’m a synth?” Danse’s tone was not pleased. Surprise, surprise.

“Well, it’s not like you don’t have other stuff in common. You had your whole heart in an organization, too, and it gave you everything you needed.”

“When I was a Paladin, you mean.”

“Yeah. What would you have wanted?”

Danse sighed and shook his head. “As much as it pains me to admit, both Curie and I have observed that Generation Three synths seem to have a terrible fondness for Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. They were forbidden on the Prydwen due to their lack of nutritional content, and I would suppose the Institute is no different. If there is anything that X6-88 wants, that’s my best guess.”

“Snack cakes, huh? That’s... surprisingly easy.” He nodded. “I bet I could get my hands on a bunch in Diamond City, I bet. Thanks, Danse.”

“Of course. Happy to help.”

Nick

It seemed to be his lucky day, because his partner was someone he knew well, and had already planned on getting a gift for: none other than Diamond City’s favorite reporter. He’d gotten Piper a gift probably every year, and already knew exactly what he wanted and where to find it. Lucky him.

“Do you think I should do rose this year?” he asked Ellie, crouched to peer into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. He’d stowed away at least twenty years of perfume in there, specifically for Piper.

“You went floral last year,” she said. “Do you want to repeat yourself?”

“That was more lilac than rose,” he grumbled, but pushed the perfume in hand to the back.

“I don’t think we’ve tried anything citrus-y yet.” She hopped off the desk where she was sitting to look, too. “There’s a nice one somewhere in there. What’s it called? Fresh something?”

“Fresh Citron de Vigne.” He pulled the bottle out of the back. “This one was pretty popular before the war.”

“It might be nice to switch things up for her so she doesn’t smell like a florist all the time.”

He nodded. “All that’s left is to wrap it.”

“I’ll take care of that.” She plucked the bottle from his hands. “All you’re going to do is make yourself frustrated when you rip the paper.”

He glared down at his metal fingers, which tended to wreak havoc on anything delicate, especially wrapping paper. “Thanks, Ellie.”

“You can thank me by giving her my gift while you’re up there.”

Piper

The only real question was black or brown, but that was rapidly turning into one hell of a dilemma.

“He’ll like either of them,” Nat said from the couch. “That’s why you got them.”

“I know. I just don’t remember if I gave him a black tie last year.”

She couldn’t see Nat roll her eyes, but she could feel it. “Just ask Ellie. She’ll tell you.”

“Maybe I should give him the blue one to be on the safe side.”

“The one with the little cats on it?”

“Ugh, I forgot about the cats.” She tossed both ties onto her desk with a heavy sigh. “Why did I even get that one?”

“Hey, you don’t know that he won’t like it until you try.”

She shot her sister a scathing glare. “I’m not going to embarrass him in front of everyone with the blue kitty tie. If it was just us, maybe, but now it’s a whole event and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Which means it’s black or brown.”

Nat was unfazed by her sister’s glare. “Well, which one do you like better?”

“The black one.”

“So give him that one.”

“But I might have given him a black one last year.”

"So give him the brown one.”

“But I like the black one better.”

Nat sighed dramatically. “He’s not gonna care, Piper. It’s Nick and a tie. He’s gonna like it no matter what.”

“I know, but I don’t want him to think I can only get one color of tie.”

“You’re overthinking this. Here, give me both ties.”

Reluctantly, she handed them over and watched them disappear behind Nat’s back.

“Okay, right hand or left hand?”

“Right.”

“Brown it is.” Nat handed over the tie. “There, problem solved.”

She took the tie back and looked at it a moment.

“You know what, I think I’ll do the black one.”

Preston

Sewing was a nice, therapeutic exercise. After a long day of working on putting up lights and assembling trees and assigning cooking duties, it was nice to be able to come home and return to a project. Sole had told him about jigsaw puzzles once, and he figured this was probably a lot the same.

He’d designed this backpack specifically for Ada, less as an independent bag and more as something that could function in conjunction with the bags she already carried. It had been a uniquely challenging idea, and he’d spent quite a few nights on it before finalizing his pattern and beginning to actually cut into some leather.

Overall, it was coming along nicely. He figured it would be done well in time for the celebration. He hoped everyone else was progressing on schedule; if one of them showed up without a gift, well, he didn’t know what he would do. The idea that one of them would disappoint sole had crossed his mind more than once, and he swore to himself that if anyone failed to perform this year, they’d suffer the consequences. He just wasn’t sure what those consequences actually were.

He shook his head. No use in worrying about it before it happened. The best he would probably get would be a stern talking-to anyway, and maybe the chance to punch somebody in the face. Sole wouldn’t want him hurting any of their friends on their behalf.

Besides, depending on whoever their partner was that this hypothetical asshole had wronged, he might not have to do anything. He couldn’t see Cait letting it slide, that was for sure, and Danse believed so heavily in being a person of honor that he wouldn’t tolerate it either, no matter who had gotten screwed over.

In the end, he probably wouldn’t have to do anything, and that put a smile on his face.

X6

“You want what?”

He tried to not let his face betray him as he stared down Dr. Holden in the corner of the Bioscience division.

“A full lab kit for above-ground experimentation. Orders from the future director.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie; sole wanted him to participate in this silly game, which meant they had essentially “ordered” him to get a gift. What could a scientist want more than a full, top-of-the-line lab kit from the Institute?

“But not Father.”

He peered down at the doctor. “If you are refusing, Dr. Holden, I will report back to sole. I’m certain they will be happy to come themselves, or send word along to Father of your refusal.”

Dr. Holden huffed, and he saw the tiniest spark of fear in his eyes. “I didn’t refuse. I just wish they’d go through proper channels when requesting equipment, that’s all.” He scratched a few words on a piece of paper and handed it over. “There. That’ll get you everything you need.”

He said nothing, just took the paper coldly. Not for the first time, he appreciated that sole had authorized him to act on their behalf. For one, it showed trust, and it also made getting around much, much easier. All he had to do was mention their name, which carried the full force of the director’s office, and everyone was willing to acquiesce.

All he had to do now was make sure nothing broke. Glass was a difficult thing to transport, after all. He could relay straight back to Sanctuary, but Curie might see him, and the point was that the gift was a secret, hence the name “Secret Santa.” He could relay to the nearby Red Rocket, but that left him further to go, and more at risk of things breaking.

Decisions, decisions.

The Exchange

Shockingly, everyone had managed to get their gifts wrapped. Granted, some were better than others; Deacon still dominated with his perfect, sharp creases and hand-folded bow, where X6 might as well have just put his gift in a trash bag, but in the end it was the thought that counted.

Everyone had gathered in the newly established meeting hall of Sanctuary Hills, where sole had spent the last few days placing enough chairs and tables for everyone to be comfortable, as well as a few rugs to make the place feel cozy. They’d even made a fireplace appear out of nowhere, no easy feat, and with the settlers’ decorations it really did feel festive. Sole themself was seated by the fire, curled up with Dogmeat at their feet, and their eyes sparkled to see the gifts their friends had brought.

“Well, go on.” They waved their hands encouragingly. “Let me see what you did. I might be more excited than all of you are. Who’s going first?”

“It will be alphabetical,” Ada said, standing. “I will go first.”

She made her way to MacCready, who looked honestly surprised to see a gift appear in his lap.

“Ah, thanks. I’ll just, uh, open this.”

He tore into the paper and opened up the generic cardboard box, furrowed his eyebrows, and pulled out a series of small plastic jars.

“I have noticed you have an affinity for cooking,” she said. “I thought you might appreciate some new spices to try while on the road. It will be very difficult for you to break or spill them while traveling, as they are all in childproof containers.”

“That’s... surprisingly thoughtful.” He shook a container of dried parsley as if trying to figure out what it was. “Thanks.”

“Okay, my turn.” Cait clapped her hands and stood up. “Thanks for not changing your look again, Deacon. I’ll at least be able to find you.”

She dropped the box in his hands unceremoniously. “Don’t complain if it’s not somethin’ you want. You’re not the easiest guy to get a gift for.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort at least,” he said, peeling away the practically mangled wrapping. “If you ever want some lessons on wrapping paper, though, I’m happy to- oh.”

He pulled out a leather jacket, turning it around so that sole could see Cait had made the effort to track down the Atom Cats. A smile quirked his lips.

“Actually been looking at one of these for a while.” He gave Cait a real smile, this time. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she huffed, clearly embarrassed. “I mean it.”

“Which brings us to me! Here you are, Mr. Hancock. One present, as promised.”

“It’s light,” Hancock commented wrily, shaking the box. “You didn’t get cheap on me, didja?”

“But of course not. I simply went for something more personal.”

“Personal?” He raised what was left of an eyebrow as he unceremoniously tore through the wrapping paper. “How did you manage that little trick?”

Codsworth waved an arm dismissively. “I have my ways.”

“Well, shit, I guess you do.”

He pulled the lighter out twirled it in his fingers and gave it an experimental light. It flicked on with ease.

“I guess you refilled it too, huh? That’s really somethin’.”

“So that’s why you drug me out to Dunwich Borers,” sole said, laughing. “I knew something was up.”

“Certainly not,” Codsworth replied, but his tone betrayed that if he could have laughed, he would have.

“Ah, I suppose that means it is my turn, non?” Carefully, Curie picked her way over to Gage. “Happy holidays, Monsieur.”

“Thanks, I guess.” He took it uncertainly. “This isn’t a bomb or anything, is it?”

“Of course not!” She sounded genuinely offended. “It is a gift, and not one that is easy to procure.”

“Just bein’ careful.” He still shook out the can more carefully than was probably necessary.

“Bug spray,” she explained. “It should repel the overly large insects you so dislike.”

Gage actually looked surprised. “I.. shit. Thanks.” He turned his head to the wall, obviously embarrassed. “Whoever’s next...”

“That would be me.” Shockingly, Danse had actually ditched his power armor for the day, at sole’s request. “Here you are, Cait. I hope it proves useful to you.”

She seemed hesitant, but accepted wordlessly, peering into the box. There was silence for a long moment, then she said, “I thought you only knew how to mod energy weapons.”

“I made an exception. That should provide you with exceptional damage and a better rate of fire for your shotgun.”

Cait could only shake her head, say, “Thanks,” and wave for the next person to go.

Deacon took his cue and handed his gift off to Codsworth. “There you go, buddy. Happy holiday.”

“Mr. Deacon.” Codsworth sounded all too pleased. “I should have known.”

Deacon shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up. At least you know you got what you wanted.”

“How thoughtful!” Codsworth turned to sole. “You needn’t search for a new feather duster any longer sir/mum.”

They nodded, impressed. “I had forgotten I was supposed to be looking for one. Good work, Deeks.”

“Hey, you’ve got a lot on your plate boss.” He shot them a quick set of finger guns. “I’m just helping out with the little stuff.”

There was silence for a long moment before sole said, “Gage, I think it’s you.”

“What, already? Alright.”

He stood up, and when he paused in front of Preston, the room froze. No one even dared to breathe as he handed off the box, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, Gage was the only person Preston seemed actively willing to shoot at any time. This could only mean a fight.

“Happy holidays, Garvey.” He almost sounded genuine.

Preston accepted, understandably cautiously. “Thanks, Gage. Happy holidays.”

But when the paper was off, and the box was opened, Preston’s hesitation vanished into thin air. 

“How the hell did you even find this?” he breathed, slowly pulling the sword from its sheath. It glinted in the firelight.

“Ah, it was no big deal.” Gage’s face was smug, and he leaned back in his chair with confidence. “You guys shouldn’t leave important relics just sitting around.”

And to everyone’s surprise, especially Gage’s, Preston rose from his chair to offer Gage a handshake.

“Thanks,” he said. “For real.”

For a second time, Gage was stunned into silence before taking Preston’s hand and breathing, “Don’t mention it. That’s the game, right?”

Sole shot Gage a discreet thumbs-up as Preston settled back into his seat, and the poor guy could only nod.

“Well, ain’t that touching?” Hancock leaned over to pass off the small box to Danse, who had somehow ended up seated directly across the circle from him. “There ya go, crew cut. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Danse nodded. “I won’t.”

Sole shot Hancock a warning look as Danse carefully unwrapped it, and he winked in reply, as if to say, “Trust me.”

Danse quite literally choked.

As he pulled the chain out, the box fell from his hands, leaving the holotags in the open air. Sole gasped from their place by the fire, realizing exactly what Danse was holding, and Hancock let his smile widen.

“These should be on board the Prydwen,” he breathed, turning them over in his hands. “They should have been destroyed.” Teary eyes turned toward the mayor of Goodneighbor. “How did you...”

Hancock leaned closer to Danse, clearly enjoying his moment. “Well, it didn’t make much sense that they were on Maxson’s desk if they’ve got your name on ‘em. After all, they’re yours. What does he need them for?”

Danse leaned forward, too, pulling Hancock into a bone-crushing hug. “You could have died. If you had been caught...”

“But I wasn’t.” John Hancock truly looked like that cat who’d eaten the canary. “Happy holidays, Danse.”

“Thank you, John,” Danse replied, and his tone was sincere, without the hint of malice that usually accompanied any of his interactions with Hancock. “Happy holidays.”

Preston patted Danse’s shoulder as he let go, but still managed to shoot an impressed look across the circle at Hancock. Hancock made a peace sign at him, still grinning.

“Well, shoot,” MacCready said. “That makes me next, but I feel kinda stupid about my gift, now.”

He opted to deposit the clearly heavy box at X6′s feet instead of in his lap. It was by far the largest gift, and shockingly neat in its wrapping. He dusted his hands, said, “It’s heavy,” and returned to his seat.

“I admit that I have no clue what this is,” X6 said, prodding the box gently. “It looks too large to be fusion cells, which is what I thought it would be.”

MacCready smiled, just a little. “Maybe it’s a lot of fusion cells. Why don’t you find out?”

X6 carefully unwrapped the gift, and only just managed to open the box before his head shot up.

“Is this whole box full of them?”

“You betcha.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Sole protested from the corner, “I can’t see what it is.”

“It’s snack cakes.” X6 held up a box indicatively. “They’re difficult for me to acquire, due to the Institute’s strict supervision of my diet, but a vice among gen three synths. I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

MacCready, to his credit, managed not to look too smug at the courser’s apparent wonder.

Nick stood. “Here you go, Piper. I suppose you know what it is. Here’s Ellie’s, while we’re at it, but you can open it later.”

She laughed and held out a hand to stop him from returning to his seat. He looked at her, bemused

“What’s so funny?”

She shook her head and reached under her chair to hand off her gift to him. “Some luck, huh? Happy holidays, Nick.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Some luck, indeed. Happy holidays, Piper.”

They opened at the same time, Piper saying, “Oh, this is a new one,” at the same time Nick said, “Well, how classy.”

They held their gifts up in sync for sole to see, though Piper was still reading the label of her perfume.

“Citrus, huh? This’ll be nice for a change of pace. I haven’t had anything citrus-y before.”

“It’s been a while since I got a new black tie,” Nick replied, examining it. “I like the pattern. It’s subtle.”

“I can’t believe you both drew each other,” sole cut in, though they didn’t seem disappointed. “I bet you’d already planned to do gifts anyway.”

They nodded in unison.

“This does make things a little easier, though,” Piper said. “We didn’t have to set our own date this way.”

Sole shook their head. “Preston, we’re to you.”

“Sure. Here you go, Ada.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I have tried to predict what this would be, but had some difficulty, especially in the situation where you were the gift giver. I am curious, to say the least.”

“Well, I hope you like it.”

She cracked it open, albeit with some difficulty, before declaring. “This was not among the options I predicted.” She drew it from the box to examine it better. “How thoughtful. It even appears to be designed to work in tandem with my current storage.”

“That’s the idea. I know it’s not much, but I hope you can at least get some use from it.”

“To the contrary. You designed this yourself, and took the time to create it. I can see you’ve even stitched my initials along the straps, as well as the initials of those formerly in my caravan. The details and the effort make it quite touching.”

Preston knew Ada well enough to know that he had gotten the best possible response, emotion-wise, and turned to X6 with everyone else.

“Well, you all already know who this is for.” He carefully passed the box over to Curie, who beamed.

“Merci.”

He nodded, not entirely coldly, and she began to remove the paper with a surgeon’s precision, letting out a gasp when she’d opened the box.

“Oh, Monsieur! This is- I have not seen such fine materials since before the war. Where did you find them?”

“They’re top quality, designed for Institute scientists.” A hint of pride lingered in his voice. “I knew you would like them.”

“Yes, I like them very much! I cannot wait to work with new glassware again, it has been so long.”

Sole sighed contentedly from their chair, drawing their attention. “I’m so proud of you guys. I knew it was a risk asking you to do this, but I’m glad you could put aside your differences, at least for a while. Honestly, this has gone better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Anything for you, General,” Preston replied. “You’ve been more than helpful in putting us on the right track.”

They shook their head. “I was happy to do it. It showed me you were all really trying, when I thought we’d be seeing nothing but boxes of ammo. You all went above and beyond, and for that, I salute you.”

They picked up their glass and raised it to the room, smile still lingering on their face. “To all of you, for taking the time and energy, both physical and emotional, to indulge me. I’m beyond proud to call you my friends, and more proud to call you my family.”

“Happy holidays, everyone.”

[maandags]

I don’t know if it was ever confirmed, but imagine being the one to find Sokka’s Meteor Sword (that he lost in the final battle) and returning it to him.

two more days.

two more days’ walking, and you’ll get to the Capital. two more days’ walking, and your weeks-long journey will finally come to an end.

you nibble on the piece of carefully wrapped bread that you purchased in the last village you passed through. it’s a sunny day, so you found a tree casting shade to sit and rest in. beside you sits your backpack, your bedroll, and tied to your pack the dark metal sword.

it was an insane idea, at first. after scouring the battlefield -- burned, then flooded -- for survivors, or corpses, or anything salvageable at all, you found the sword sticking up from ash-covered soil like it was a thing from legend. black blade against a blackened background, it gave you chills the first time you laid eyes upon it.

a rare sword, it is. not many weapons are that well-made, and made of this particular material. you took it home, cleaned it, polished it. never really knew what to do with it, to be honest -- you’re no swordsmaster. you’re a traveller. someone who knows people and places.

but you took it with you, wrapped in cloth and bound with twine. foolish, in hindsight; it could so easily have been stolen off of you. it still could be. but you did it anyway, not even knowing what to do with it, and by some sort of miracle you were still in possession of it when you ran into a few members of the White Lotus.

well-worn travellers like yourself know a lot of people in a lot of places. you’re no official member of the White Lotus -- though you’d say the relationship you have with them is one of understanding and respect. some well-known figures rank high amongst its members. you’ve had tea with General Iroh of the Fire Nation, as well as King Bumi of Omashu, and other such figures. 

but that’s none of your business, of course. you’re merely a traveller.

however, you had to admit that the small Fire Nation village of Bluevalley is not where you’d expected a White Lotus headquarters to be. 

“why, hello, Y/N. how nice that our paths cross again.” the General’s eyes twinkled. 

you tipped your hat in respect -- a bow without bowing -- and smile. “an honour, as always.”

“tea?”

“that only seems appropriate, doesn’t it?”

Iroh smiled. “indeed it does.”

it was a cozy yet functional headquarters, with a low table and no windows. you didn’t waste time looking around. that was not what you were there for. you were there to have tea; a traveller enjoying old friends’ hospitality.

none of the men asked you what you were doing here, and you did the same. you talked about small things; your recent discoveries regarding various flora and their applications, spiritual talk; vague enough for there to be no real substance to the conversation, yet enough to keep it going nonetheless.

but your attention was focused on Master Piandao. known master of swordfighting, teacher only to those he deems worthy. you thought he might be interested in the blade you carried. 

“master Piandao.”

he slowly took a sip of tea, then looked at you. “yes, Y/N?” 

“I have something I’d like you to take a look at.”

Piandao raised an eyebrow. “do you, now?”

you nodded, gingerly setting your teacup on the table and turning to retrieve your bag, which sat against the wall, next to the door. sticking out of the flap was the sword, wrapped in fabric to conceal and protect the blade. you heaved it out, walking back to the men and laying it out across the table, working to untie the knots. you watched Piandao’s face carefully as the fabric fell away, trying to gauge his reaction.

but he was not a high-ranking member of the White Lotus for nothing, and his expression revealed nothing – until his lips curled into a faint smile. “yes. I know this blade.”

it surprised you, because in reality you hadn’t expected him to know this particular sword out of every sword he must have encountered in his life. but he apparently did, and you leaned forward, interest increased tenfold. “you – you do?”

Piandao lifted it, inspected corners and balance, before gently setting it back on its fabric encasing. “yes. and I’m sure you have heard of him too.” he smiled at you, eyes twinkling. “he is part of the Avatar’s closest friends, after all.”

you stare at him blankly. “you’re not serious.”

“I can assure you I am very much serious.” he cast another look at the sword. 

on the other side of the table, Iroh nodded. “Sokka is very skilled with it. however, I was under the assumption he lost it during the Battle of Sozin’s Comet.”

you shrugged. “I think he did. I just found it, cleaned it. figured I’d try to find its owner.”

Piandao looked at you, estranged. “that is very noble of you, Y/N. not many people would have done the same thing.”

you winked at him. “I’m not like most people, Master Piandao.”

he laughed softly. “that, you aren’t.”

that had been weeks ago. you’d figured you’d just make for the Fire Nation Capital, since that’s where the Avatar and his posse reside at the moment. what to do when you get there – how to actually meet Sokka, actual war hero and probably bearer of a bunch of other titles by now – was a whole other problem, but you’d cross that bridge when you got to it.

two more days, and you’ll get to the wall.

you knock back the last of your water – you’ll have to find a pond or a spring soon to fill it – and stand, swinging your pack onto your back, heaving a sigh. two more days.

the walls of the Capital are even taller than you imagined them to be. inside, you can tell city life is buzzing, people bustling around, shouts and laughter drifting through the air; they’re celebrating still, despite the defeat of Ozai and the ascension of Fire Lord Zuko being a solid two months past already. you’ve heard that the Capital has never been this alive.

“halt.” four guards at the gates, stopping people, exchanging a few words with them, then sending them on their way. you tilt up your hat, putting on your least mysterious smile. 

“what is your business in the city?”

“I’m merely a traveller, sir. just passing through. my cousin has a tea shop here.” the lie flows from your lips with ease. 

the guard looks you up and down, not looking entirely convinced. “anything to declare?”

“no, sir.” you’d tried to conceal the sword as best you could. now, barely the tip of the blade was sticking out of your pack, and you’d managed to cover that up pretty well with your bedroll. they’d have to go rummaging through your stuff to find it.

the guard looks you over one more time, then shrugs and steps aside. “all right. enjoy your stay.”

you smile at him. “thank you. I will.”

it takes you another day to reach the inner Capital inside the Capital. hm. here was where you’d need to either be creative, or ask to meet Sokka. how successful of an endeavor that would be, you weren’t sure of. you’ll just have to… figure something out. 

okay. attempt one. you leave your pack at the cheap inn you stayed at the previous night – it stings a little, but also, there’s nothing in there you can’t get in the city. life as a traveller taught you to not get too attached to your pack or its contents. except, of course, for the sword, which you strap across your back. it’s wrapped in one more layer of dark green cloth, to better conceal its shape.

a walk around the wall tells you it is… very well guarded. there are two points of entry, both gates watched by four guards. the shift change is well coordinated, so sneaking in during it is not feasible either. and even if you did manage to slip past the guards, the gates themselves are bolted shut from the inside. 

there is simply no way for you to get in.

as you’re racking your brain, wondering if you’re really going to risk getting arrested for this sword and this man you don’t know and you’re being so dumb and such an idiot – the gates open, and there he is. just stepping out of the palace grounds, like it’s no big deal. like there aren’t countless youths stood outside the gates, just waiting for him to appear, maybe smile at them, give them even the tiniest bit of his attention. 

you stare at him, because the coincidence is just too hysterical. he’s giving the people around him awkward waves and even awkwarder grins, clearly having no clue what to do with himself around all this attention. he’s flanked by two guards – not surprising – and slowly makes his way across the square. you follow him with one eye, frantically scribbling a note at the same time.

you can’t just walk up to him. hi, hello, you don’t know me, but I have a sword to give you. the guards would be mad to let you approach at all; they’ve probably been trained to shield him from any human interaction that isn’t with his trusted friends – all of them just as unreachable for someone like you.

but a note… you can slip him a note. he doesn’t look like someone who would shy away from a cryptic message asking him to meet you in the park an hour after sundown. does he?

so you get up and hurry after him, eyes latched onto the blue of his clothes, tracing the lines of his body and observing the spring in his step with a crooked grin on your face. he doesn’t look like a war hero, that’s for sure. 

but you often found that looks can be deceiving, and that those who might not look like much have the most to offer.

you catch up with them in a busy street – even busier, after Sokka’s arrival – and manage to sidle up to them unnoticed. 

one of the guards looks around, disapproval clear in his expression. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just take the carrier. someone of your status –” 

“no, no, no. the carrier – are you serious? that’s, like, Zuko levels of pretentious. I already feel super awkward with all this – uh – attention –” you roll your eyes – “I mean, not that I don’t enjoy it, but, you know –” 

his voice gets drowned out by the noise of the crowd, and you shake your head, shuffling forward, waiting for an opening that’ll allow you to slip the note in his pocket. you don’t have to wait that long; it’s easy enough to pretend you trip and fall, having to grab onto Sokka’s arm to keep yourself from crashing down. the guards raise their hands, alarm sparking in their expression; but Sokka ignores them, helping you up. 

“you okay?”

you nod, tucking the folded piece of paper between the folds of his clothes. “yes, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“don’t worry about it,” he says airily, with a smile that makes you understand all of a sudden why so many people are fawning over him left and right.

he frowns, opens his mouth, and you duck your head down, grateful your hat conceals most of your face. someone calls Sokka’s name. he looks up, and you use the moment of confusion to slip away into the crowd.

you’re sat on wall surrounding the parks, watching the twinkling lights spreading far into the city, waiting for him. the sword is still strapped to your back. one knee is drawn up to your chest, and you keep an eye out on the park gates.

sure enough, after a while, a figure enters the park that can only be him. you grin, waiting until he’s passed by you before you drop to the ground and clearing your throat.

he whirls around, hands moving to grab the hilt at his side – a sword. you smile. “hello.” 

“do I know you?”

“no, I suppose you wouldn’t.” you tip your hat. “you don’t have to be so nervous. I’m not going to fight you.”

“I don’t know that.” 

“sure. I’ll be gone before you know it, anyway.”

Sokka scowls. “why did you ask me to meet you here?”

you reach behind your back, shooting him an irritated look when his grip on his sword tightens. “relax. I just have a present for you.”

“if you try anything –” 

“what, your friends will jump out from hidden corners and murder me where I stand? come on, man,” you scoff, holding the package out to him. 

Sokka looks at it suspiciously for a moment before he sheaths his sword, accepts the package, starts to unwrap it. when the cloth falls away and the sword is revealed, his eyes go wide as saucers, and his knuckles go white around the hilt of the blade. he looks at you, then at the sword, back at you, back at the sword.

“this is – this is my spa – I mean – my meteor sword,” he stammers. “I – I lost this. months ago.”

“and I found it. and got it back to you.” you shift your weight, cross your arms. “Master Piandao says hello, by the way.” 

Sokka is looking more and more confused. “you know Piandao?”

“something like that.”

he exhales shakily, holds the blade to his chest. “who are you?”

you smile, already planning to make your mysterious exit and never see him again – or something like that. maybe you’ll stay a bit. Sokka intrigues you. 

“a traveller.”

[backtothestart02]

Remember That Night - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Yes, another new fic...but this one I’m rly inspired for and might write more of this weekend if I get some genuine feedback! It’s based off the song of the same name by Sara Kays. I’m going to go beyond where the song ended, but it is my jumping off point and a good portion of the story. I hope you enjoy it!

...

Synopsis: AU - The mysterious cowboy walked out of Iris’ life without a second thought, wracking her entire world just as much when he walked back into it again.

...

Chapter 1 - Gone

The morning started like any other. A mixed ray of colors in the sky morphed into blue, clouds parted and birds flew overhead. The West ranch was still quiet in the early hours of the morning, though any minute now Uncle Jesse would emerge from the main house to tend to the horses in the barn. His wife, Aunt Cora would be cheerfully making breakfast – pancakes and eggs with fruit, as was her usual.

But in the guest house on the far side of the property, all was still silent, completely unaware of the onslaught of emotions that would bombard its interior within minutes.

A vision on the king-sized bed, Iris’ dark eyes finally opened into the morning light with a flutter of her eyelashes. Her first instinct was to curl into the reason for her pure ecstasy all summer long. Barry Allen, ranch hand for her uncle for the summer.

He’d first appeared at her birthday party two months ago. While they’d shared little more than small talk and a hand shake at the event, Iris couldn’t help but feel there was something between them instantly. A magnetism that she couldn’t ignore even if she wanted to. And she didn’t want to.

He was twenty-one, and she was nineteen. She had a little place in the city, but she found excuses to drive out almost daily to visit with her family – really, to spy on Barry and see if there was something there.

There was.

Within days they were wrapped up in each other and hardly apart except for when he had to tend to his work. And even then she lingered just to be near him. Sometimes she helped out too. Something she’d sworn she’d never do again after a summer at her uncle’s when she was 13 proved ranching was hard work too. She was convinced it was worth it this time though.

As the hot months started to dwindle down, a feeling of dread settled in Iris. She’d be going back to college soon, and then what? Barry would stick around? He’d only signed on for summer employment. Would he stick around for her?

He hadn’t even told her he loved her yet.

Iris had told him though. He’d responded by kissing her, and then making love to her. It was such a magical night that it wasn’t until much later that Iris realized he hadn’t said it back.

She figured he would in time. Maybe he just wasn’t used to opening up like that.

But time was ticking away, and she worried maybe he never would. Maybe he’d disappear from her life as if he’d never been there and hadn’t completely changed her entire world.

No, he wouldn’t do that, she tried to reassure herself.

Would he?

Finding him absent from the bed when she woke up set her emotions into high gear, but she ordered herself to calm down. She sat up, pulling the sheet up over her bare breasts and called out for him.

There was no reply.

Frowning, and more than a little worried now, she pulled the sheet with her as she got up and went to his dresser, searching for one of his t-shirts that more or less drowned her because of how tall he was compared to her petite size.

There was only one left. The rest of the dresser was bare.

Her heart started racing.

She put the shirt on over her head, and sure enough, it fell to mid-thigh, the short sleeves hovering around her elbows.

She turned to look out through the open doorway and heard the slight commotion of dishes in the kitchen. She breathed a sigh of relief, figuring it probably wasn’t a robber out here in the wilderness.

“Barry?”

“I’m out here, Iris,” he responded somewhat impatiently.

Her brows furrowed, but she tip-toed out into the hall and found her way into the kitchen. The sun was streaming over the breakfast he’d prepared for them sitting on the table. It looked like he’d just finish washing the dishes as he’d waited for her to get up. Which was kind of backwards thinking to her, but she decided not to mention it and walked over to him, tipping her face up for a kiss.

He obliged her, then gestured to the table, where they sat and had their meal in a cozy silence, sharing almost no words till they were almost finished.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Barry said, relieving her of her dirtied plate, so he could wash it quickly.

Iris was amused, and now couldn’t help but commenting.

“You know, I’m all for efficiency, and I love that you cook and clean, but uh-”

“What?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“You seem a bit…rushed this morning, even tense.”

He laughed shortly.

“When have you ever known me to be tense?”

That was true, Iris admitted to herself. He’d always been particularly casual, laid-back, easy-going.

“Rushed then.”

“Because I don’t want to see dirty dishes sit all day long?”

“Barry,” she said, softly.

He finished the dishes, put them away, and returned to her.

“It’s a busy day, Iris. That’s all.”

She was doubtful of that, and watched him steadily as he put the food away in the refrigerator.

“Working today?” she asked, scanning the room for any sign of something different. Unease was creeping up in her, and she couldn’t shake it.

His next words tumbled out the minute she saw bags packed up and his cowboy boots sitting nestled beside them with his cowboy hat on top by the door.

“I’m leaving.”

She spun around, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry… what?”

He sighed.

“Today. Now. That’s why I’m making sure everything is clean and put away. I’ve already let your uncle know. He says I’ve reached enough days in my contract, and I can go now if I’d like to.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

Her heart fell. So much for thinking he might ask on to stay longer so he could be with her.

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But what about… What about-”

“Us?” he finished for her.

“Yeah!” she said, starting to panic.

He came closer, almost setting his hands on her arms to calm her but pulling back at the last second.

“Iris, you knew this was never going to last.”

Her jaw dropped.

“You’re in college, I’m in-”

“What?” she spat.

“Life,” he said simply. “I have to go. That’s all there is to it.”

He walked around her to start putting on his boots.

“Were you even going to tell me? If I hadn’t gotten up now, would you have even-”

He straightened.

“I probably would’ve left the food out for you with a note.”

A note?! She seethed.

When he approached her, this time she backed away, and he sighed.

“You know I don’t like to wake you when you’re sleeping. You always look so peaceful.”

Her eyebrows narrowed.

“I can think of a time or two when you woke me to serve your own needs.”

His lips thinned, then he took two steps forward, so they were inches apart.

“As I recall, you didn’t mind the wake-up call.” He smirked slowly.

She wanted to scream. Here he was seducing her as he walked out the door!

“It’s been fun,” he said, his eyes dipping to where her nipples pressed against the fabric of his shirt she was wearing.

“Is that all it was?” she said, anger turning to tears welling in her eyes.

Sadness filled his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“I’ll never forget you, Iris West.”

I love you was stuck in her throat. She couldn’t push it out.

The next minutes passed by in a blur. She watched, her eyes glazing over as he walked away from her and loaded up his truck with his bags and finally got inside. He hesitated for a moment, and that moment was enough to jar Iris out of her trance and get her to run outside.

“Barry!”

He turned to look at her just as the keys turned in the ignition.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded.

He looked at her sadly, and then, instead of saying goodbye, he said what he always did when it was too hard to say what he needed to.

“You look beautiful in the sunlight, Iris. Did I ever tell you that?”

Her lips parted in disbelief.

He tipped his hat to her, then drove away, down the long driveway and onto the highway. Out of her life. Forever.

At least she had thought.

...

*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

[fizzingwizard]

Frantically playing catch up because I’m gone the rest of the weekend so here’s day 6 after all! Blatantly Takari. This one surprised me by how easy it was to write so it got a bit longer than the others. I’m sure there are many typos, please overlook. Also has two quotes, one in the text and one at the end, from my long-time favorite poet, Walt Whitman. BTW, I don’t really get everything that went down with Ordinemon, but I did my best to fit canon.

One month post-Bokura no Mirai, Takeru and Hikari go on a date and Hikari encounters something unexpected, which leads to a very overdue conversation with her brother.

Warning - there’s mention of the death of sick baby. It’s not huge but it matters to the story. I don’t want to shock anyone.

---

Tri week day 6 - Journeys - Death of a Comet

"How are you?" Takeru asked, watching her carefully.

Hikari only smiled and pretended not to notice. "I thought we'd known each other long enough to skip the niceties, Takeru-kun," she quipped. It was a far cry from her old playfulness, she knew, but she also knew he wasn't going to call her out for it it just yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Takeru rolled his eyes with an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. "I didn't realize relationship length was proportionate to amount of shits given."

"It is, at least when the last time we talked was an hour ago over text."

"Duly noted."

"Let's go?"

He nodded. He was wearing another hat she'd never seen before, a dark blue beret that looked about to tip off the side of his head with a light breeze. She wondered if he went out and bought a new hat each time before they went out together. Like how a girl shouldn't be caught in the same outfit twice. He probably did. That was Takashi Takeru, vain as fuck. But there was also something kind of adorable about it.

They'd "officially" been dating for a couple weeks, and Hikari wasn't sure yet how she felt about it. Of course, she'd agreed to it when he asked her. What else could she do? They'd been flirting and toying with each other off and on for years, in a childish way, but she couldn't pretend she didn't know full well what she was doing. She'd even sometimes daydreamed about what dating him would be like. Mostly she imagined it would be a lot of sitting in the bleachers at his basketball games.

She didn't consider Takeru the most mature of the boys in their year, but he wasn't as bad as some. Plus, they'd been through a lot together, so she knew what he was made of. And he really liked her. And she liked him. It seemed unavoidable. She'd said yes because she had no good reason for saying no.

It still felt a bit weird when he reached to hold her hand. Two weeks in, and they had yet to kiss. For the most part, it felt like nothing much had changed between them, except that Takeru no longer tried to hide his excitement when she was near. That was... flattering. And she had no qualms with taking it slow either.

They got on the Yurikamome train and stood together by a window, watching the Odaiba waterfront speed by as they traveled over the Rainbow Bridge. The sky was blue and cloudless. It was the kind of weather Tailmon loved, but Hikari had already talked to her about why she sometimes couldn't come along when she and Takeru went on an "outing." Tailmon had blinked lazily and said that was alright, and given her claws a long, purposeful lick. ”But if he ever hurts you, don't you dare hide it from me.”

Hikari promised, but thought the reverse scenario was far more likely.

Takeru had a more difficult time explaining it to Patamon, she'd heard. Supposedly, after Takeru had given his spiel about how growing up meant needing more time to oneself, Patamon had blurted out, "Are you going to kiss Hikari!? You've got to kiss her, Takeru!" loudly enough that some boys at school had overheard, and as a result everyone knew that they were an item before they'd even been out on a single date.

Such was life with Digimon.

"You know where it is, right?" Hikari asked as they got off the train.

"Yeah, I've come here with my mom for other exhibits," Takeru said, leading her out the exit and onto a busy street. "Mom's really into modern art. We've gone to see Kusama Yayoi's sculptures on Naoshima like four times. I'm pretty sure she goes whenever she breaks up with a boyfriend."

Hikari laughed. "Wait, really?"

"Well, she never introduces them to me, but I can tell when she's seeing someone. She touches up her roots more often."

The art exhibit they were going to see was some sort of interactive light show. Hikari had seen pictures online and thought it looked beautiful. Her father was of the opinion that they only ever put the best pictures on the website, and the rest of the exhibit was probably in some big, white-walled room that smelled like someone had microwaved fish for lunch. Her mom had been more enthusiastic, and added that, if the art did turn out to be a dud, it was as good an excuse as any to sneak off somewhere quiet with her Romeo and, you know, romance him.

Hikari was definitely not going to do that.

She'd timed things with care. Taichi had morning soccer practice until ten. After that he'd come home for lunch. The exhibit opened at eleven, but her concerns about there being a line fell on deaf ears, since Takeru claimed he knew this museum and it was never crowded. (Which didn't do much to mitigate her concerns about the exhibit being any good.) So the earliest she could convince him to catch the train was ten fifteen. So if she left right at ten and headed directly to the station, she ought to be able to miss her brother coming home completely.

It felt like fate was laughing in her face when she ran into him on her way out.

Her shock was mirrored on his face as they both stood in the doorway, staring at each other as if unable to understand why their biological sibling would be there, in their childhood home.

Taichi spoke first, if speech it could be called. "Uh," he said.

"Oniichan," she stammered back, "why - how - you got home fast."

"Yeah... Yamato was having band practice and he gave me a ride on the scooter," Taichi replied.

Hikari kept her mouth shut. Had Yamato orchestrated this? Was Takeru in on it? She knew it wasn't likely in either case, but her hackles were raised. "Oh," she said.

They continued to stand in the doorway. This was, Hikari reflected, the longest conversation they'd managed to keep going in almost a month.

"You... going somewhere?" Taichi asked after a while, tilting his head and looking up and down.

"Museum. With Takeru-kun."

"Oh. Well, have fun."

"Thanks."

As if suddenly realizing he was blocking the exit, Taichi stepped to the side, and Hikari barely restrained herself from running down the hall. The damage was done, though. The minute the elevator door closed, the tears started leaking down her face. Dammit. She'd been so careful.

She'd had to stop off at a nearby convenience store to hide in the restroom. She splashed her face and dabbed her eyes with her hand towel until they were less red, until the evidence of the havoc wreaked just by seeing her brother was hidden under a fresh layer of make-up. She never even wore make-up much before - after all, she was fourteen and blessed with good skin. Dating Takeru had been a convenient excuse to explain to her mom why she suddenly needed extra allowance for concealer, despite having no acne.

She wound up ten minutes late meeting Takeru and still, he could tell right away that something was wrong. She'd managed to deflect, but...

Hikari had never been any good at lying, even to herself. But she was surprised by her own cruelty, dating Takeru because she needed the distraction, an excuse to be anywhere but home. His feelings for her were genuine. She was a monster.

"Hikari-chan?" Takeru gave her a nudge that jolted her into the present. There was, indeed, no line to get in at the art show, and Takeru was trying to hand her a ticket. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She nodded resolutely. "Yeah, of course."

"It's just, you're being kind of quiet."

"Well, sorry but I'm not a professional entertainer."

He didn't reply to that barb. Hikari felt even more miserable. If only Yamato's stupid motor scooter had broken down on the road...

They handed in their tickets and went through a pair of double doors, into a wide room lit by myriad streamers of blue and purple lights wafting on the air like strange, hypnotic jellyfish. No pictures were allowed, so Hikari kept her camera stowed, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Any pictures she tried to take while in such a stormy mood were bound to end up in the trash bin anyway.

They followed the path laid out through fiber-optic tallgrass in silence. Takeru was still gripping her hand, even though her own hung like a dead fish. The next section was a blacklight room with an even more obvious sci-fi vibe, bright cables painted brilliant colors in the impression of sea snakes creating circuitous archs on the walls and ceiling. The heat-sensor flooring lit under their feet as they walked.

Takeru leaned towards her, the blacklight setting his white T-shirt aglow. "This is like some disco-era alien planet," he joked, offering her the olive branch.

Well, she owed it to him not to let this date be a total disaster. "The room before reminded me of the tree in Avatar," she said.

"I bet the next one's gonna be something from Fifth Element."

"No way."

"Could be."

"Completely different aesthetic."

"It's gonna be that giant McDonald's sign made of stained glass. Wait and see."

It wasn't, of course. Takeru continued to insist they'd see the sign in the next room, and the next, until they reached the end of the exhibit, where he finally admitted defeat. At least room four had clearly been lifted from Finding Nemo, he said.

The final room was, in fact, an open space with white walls, but Hikari didn't notice any stomach-turning smells. A combination of 2- and 3D works of art were mounted around the room, and they took their time browsing, continuing to try to outwit each other with their increasingly outlandish, and even somewhat insulting, art critiques. It was a lovely show, Hikari thought. If she'd come to see it in a better frame of mind, she would be raving just now. But though she'd recovered her ability to match Takeru quip for quip, she still felt heavy with gloom. Geez, why did he want to date a rain cloud like her?

"Want to go for lunch?" Takeru asked as they took in the last piece of art, an abstract mosaic made of vibrant, blinking lights laid into a glass frame on a large tabletop. Hikari circled it slowly, watching lights ripple across the frame, stitching the full picture together bit by bit.

"Sure."

"There's a cafe my mom and I go to nearby. It does amazing pancakes."

"Sounds good," she said vaguely, her brow creasing in thought. She took a step back, gazing at the table from what she'd discovered was meant to be the foot, where you could see the picture in full if you craned your neck just so.

It wasn't abstract art. It was Ordinemon.

Her whole body stiffened.

"The orange marmalade pancakes are my favorite - you listening?" With a confused look, Takeru glanced from her unchanging expression to the table. His eyes went wide. "... Let's leave, Hikari-chan."

He gave her arm a tug. She didn't budge.

"Hikari-chan, there's no need to stay here. Come on."

"Why," she said. It came out in a harsh whisper, like a frozen wind. "Why would someone make art of... that."

Takeru didn't answer for a minute. "Because... they saw it," he said after a while. His grip on her arm tightened, as if expecting her to try to break away. "So they want to express what they saw."

"It's an abomination," she choked out. Humiliating tears welled up in her eyes.

Takeru seemed to hesitate. Then he stepped back, and his arms circled round her shoulders, locking her in a tight hug from behind. The warmth of his body flowed into her ice cold one, solid, real. Her mind flashed to another day, with a roiling sky black as night, when she'd come to in an unfamiliar bed with Takeru at her side and known, with a rush of deadly certainty, that she'd destroyed everything she ever cared about.

Her brother. Her beloved partner. Her friends.

By her own will.

She didn't know what she'd done. Or how. That almost made it worse, the not knowing. Her heart broke, watching her brother disappear in the earthquake. That was all. Her heart broke and she... stopped. And when she started again -

It was too late.

Tailmon had told her she didn't regret the fusion with Meicrackmon, that she'd been able to hold poor Meicoomon together, just a little longer. There was nothing for Hikari to regret, she said. Powers beyond her control. Yggrasil and Homeostasis felt they could wage their little war and pick their champions, and dispose of them when they felt like it. No sooner had she shaken off Homeostasis's hold over her that Ordinemon happened.

Hikari hated that once upon a time, she'd believed Homeostasis was a benevolent presence. That she'd willingly let her into her mind.

Now she didn't know what to believe.

Rage flared, hot as ice. Her whole world, none of it made sense anymore. She was adrift, she was unmoored, there was no safe harbor, not even in the brother who she loved like no one else. He could make a choice like that, to kill Meicoomon, to kill their friend's irreplaceable partner. The one person who deserved the most to be saved. And she'd helped, because that was what you did, on a team, at least, if you couldn't come up with a better plan yourself.

She realized she was shaking. Takeru only held her tighter, his nose buried in the crook of her neck.

"Hikari-chan," he said, and he sounded - terrified. "What if - what if it's not, though. What if it's not an abomination. What if..."

"How can you say that," she hissed frostily.

"I mean - I'm not saying it was good. I'm not saying I don't wish none of this had happened. But - I think - Ordinemon, she was created from despair, yours and Meicoomon's. She was used, and it tortured her. We freed her from that. She would have destroyed everything, even though it's not what she wanted, and she was in so much pain -"

"Stop!" Hikari yelled, pushing away from him. There was enough strength behind her need to get away and he was not expecting it, so he toppled to the floor while she raced out the exit. She kept running, hardly aware of dodging people on the sidewalk, and ran until she found herself in a small park with nothing but a two-seater swing set and metal slide. She sank into one of the swings and dropped her head in her arms. And cried.

Cried for Meiko, for Meicoomon. Cried for the future they would never have.

Cried for her brother, who had changed, and she understood why, but she still missed the way he used to be. Her guiding star.

Cried for herself, a lost comet streaking through an unfamiliar galaxy, wondering if she would vaporize shooting too close to an alien sun, or if she'd putter out slowly until she was nothing but lifeless, crumbling stone.

Her phone buzzed in her purse - Takeru, surely, trying to find her. On top of everything else, she'd ditched the boy she was stringing along, who cared about her, and who had tried so hard to let her know she wasn't alone. She didn't deserve Takeru. She would break up with him - she had to. He should be with someone stronger than her, who wasn't going to fall apart at the seams just from a silly piece of art at a museum gallery.

After a while the sobs let up enough that she could see without tears clouding her vision, and she figured she should at least let him know she was okay. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to upset you.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: where did you go? someone said you ran past the 7-11 but I have no idea where you went from there

12:37: Takaishi Takeru: please tell me where you are. If you don't want me to come, I won't. I can call someone if you want.

12:38: Takaishi Takeru: I just want to know you're okay

12:40: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan PLEASE respond

12:45: Takaishi Takeru: I asked at the 7-11 but they said they didn't see you. am walking around aimlessly now. no idea where to look.

12:48: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan if you don't reply soon I'm gonna have to call Taichi-san

12:52: Takaishi Takeru: wound up back at the train station, if you want to meet me here.

12:55: Takaishi Takeru: if you don't respond in five minutes I'm calling Taichi-san, I mean it.

12:58: Takaishi Takeru: I love you, by the way. think I always have. thought you might want to know

Fresh tears pricked her eyes. Leave it to Takeru. How could he pick now to spring that on her?

She should be happy. She wanted to be happy.

13:02: Me: I'm okay. I'm sorry. Go home. I'll talk to you soon.

Her finger hovered uncertainly over the keypad. She typed:

The real abomination is me.

Then she deleted it, and pressed Send.

---

Little though she wanted to go home, Hikari didn't have an excuse for staying out past dinner. She stayed in the little park until it started to get chilly. A couple times, the occasional grandma stopped to ask if she was alright, but she smiled and waved away their concerns. Finally, when twilight fell over the park in a gossamer curtain, she stood and stretched out the kinks in her back before heading back to the station. It felt like she'd been out much longer than a few hours. She thought briefly of asking a friend if she could spend the night, but didn't like the idea of needing to pretend to be peppy and cheerful.

On the ride back, she did a search on the artist who'd made the Ordinemon mosaic. Why, she had no idea. Some self-hating side that wanted her to hurt, she guessed.

The artist's name was Matsuyama Risa, a Tokyo-based sculptor, whose partnership with Fujii Fiber-optics had given birth to the displays they'd seen today. Hikari let her eyes skim the article, categorically uninterested in the number of lights used or how they were installed. What she wanted to know appeared like magic, tacked on at the very end of the article.

Art of Nippon Now: The last room in the showcase features a magical light-up mosaic of a subject that could be disconcerting for some viewers. What led you to recreate the monster that much of Tokyo watched terrorize the sky last month?

Matsuyama: I put that piece together in a feverish rush. Most of these installations took weeks to install, but I insisted on this one, even though it was such short notice. I had to have it. I heard that many people never saw more of her than her massive wings, but I happened to have a very clear view at the time. It made a huge impression on me.

ANN: You said her?

Matsuyama: It was a she. Or, perhaps it's better to say she might not have a gender,  but she deserves better than the pronouns we use for inanimate objects, things without personality.

ANN: Are you saying this monster was a person?

Matsuyama: I don't know if you heard her cries, but they were deafening. They reminded me of how my son wailed in the night when he was first born. We didn't know why he was so colicky. Nothing we did calmed him. I was so afraid that he wasn't getting enough sleep. It turned out he was very sick and we just didn't know. The illness was hidden. We spent many nights in the ICU, holding out hope that he would be alright. I remember thinking, if he wasn't, it would destroy our marriage.

ANN: That sounds like a terrible experience.

Matsuyama: When our son died, it was terrible, but it also came as a relief. At least we knew he was no longer suffering. I was depressed for months. I couldn't make any art. Every day I expected my husband to leave me. The first day I pulled myself together enough to sketch something, he said I should sketch our son sometime.

ANN: So your husband didn't leave?

Matsuyama: No. He stayed by my side. When I cried that he deserved a woman who could make him happy, who would give him healthy babies, he told me I was the strongest woman he knew, and that I'd given him the best son in the world.

ANN: Wow - would that we all meet men like that.

Matsuyama: And women. That's why, although the creature that appeared over Tokyo was very frightening to look at, when I heard her cries all I heard was suffering. I thought, that is a real creature, who wants her pain to be understood. She represents something. Perhaps she was sent to show us the harm we do when we choose not to act to help others. She shouldn't be forgotten.

ANN: So you memorialized her in this mosaic?

Matsuyama: Yes. It was the right moment, even though I had no time. I wanted to recreate her likeness using lights. I set her into a table, because I felt that putting her on a wall would be too imposing, and viewers would only remember the fear she engendered. Lying down, it would seem as if she were in a coffin, finally laid to rest. But she's lit from within, and it's the light of life, desperately clinging on till the final moment, the same as any being with a soul.

ANN: Did you ever complete the sketch of your late son?

Matsuyama: No. I never did. But I think I will soon. I want to lay him to rest in my heart.

ANN: It's interesting that when you say 'lay to rest,' you seem to mean we should remember them.

Matsuyama: Our memories make us who we are. The past is always with us. My son, that creature, they are both part of my journey, as an artist of course, but also as a person in the world. You could say my son is the light of the world and that creature is the darkness, but I hold both light and dark in me, just by existing and being human.

ANN: You added a quote to the piece that said something of that nature.

Matsuyama: Yes, from a Walt Whitman poem, 'Song of Myself.' The quote reads: "I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also."

ANN: Maybe Whitman never expected his poem to be used in this way.

Matsuyama: That's the nature of art. It is a journey in and of itself. It fluctuates and changes to nourish the times. I hope everyone who sees my art understands that they are on a journey as well, and everything they do creates the work of art called "the future."

ANN: Thank you for your time, Matsuyama-sensei.

---

Her brother was home, but her parents were not. The arrangement of shoes in the entryway said as much. Taichi was seated at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of noodles and reading something. He looked up when the door opened and pushed his seat back.

"Hikari - you okay?" He peered at her, concerned. "Takeru didn't do something stupid, did he?"

So Takeru hadn't told her brother that she'd run off. Gratitude flooded through her. "No, of course not."

"Good." Taichi's hand rifled through his hair, the other planted on his hip, and he looked perplexed. "Then why do you look like you've been crying all day?"

Hikari walked inside and sank down on the couch. "Because I have been crying all day."

She could feel his hesitance as he wavered in the hall, trying to decide if he should press her for more. If that was still something he was allowed to do. She knew he would try. He wouldn't be Taichi if he didn't.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, but he didn't relax, as if expecting her to tell him to leave her alone.

"No," she replied.

He nodded. "Okay." There was a pause. "You're sure Takeru didn't -"

"No, Oniichan."

"Okay, okay."

She sat there for a few minutes, staring blankly at the black TV screen. Soon Taichi slid off the arm into the seat beside her, allowing several inches of space between them. He didn't try to talk anymore. Didn't even get up to bring his bowl of noodles over, even though it was going to get cold.

Hikari tilted her head ever so slightly to peer at him. Dark circles ringed his eyes. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well. Something about his face looked more defined, less roundness to his jaw, starker cheekbones. Hadn't been eating much either, she guessed. It gave him an oddly grown up look. She would have to call him on losing weight from not taking care of himself, but that could wait for later. She was struck by how little he looked like their father. Everyone always said Hikari was the spitting image of her mom, so it seemed natural that Taichi should take after their dad, but though she searched she couldn't find many similarities. Taichi was just Taichi.

He gave a start when she leaned toward him and settled her head on his shoulder, but didn't say anything.

Hikari thought about many things.

How unbearable it was to feel helpless. How much she wanted everyone who cared about each other to be together, and for no one to suffer who didn't deserve it.  How deeply she loved her friends. How easy it was fall apart.

Maybe all that meant was her worldview had been too delicate to begin with. A painting on a porcelain vase wouldn't stand the test of time unless handled with the best of care. The real world was too chaotic, too disordered. She could wrap her dream in newspaper, cover it in packing peanuts, tape it into a box marked "Fragile," and it would still end up in shards. She would try to put it together again, but the pieces were sharp, and she kept cutting herself on them.

She still wanted it. So, so much.

"You stay that way. You can hate me if you want," her brother had told her. Trying to put everything on his own shoulders, as usual.

"I will probably never forgive you," she'd said, and wouldn't let him. "But that's why I'll fight with you."

"Oniichan," She slipped off his shoulder, buried her face in his chest. She didn't know how she could still have more tears, but they darkened her brother's shirt as her hands hugged him tight. "I'll always fight with you."

Surprised, he didn't move for a moment, but then his arms wrapped around her the same way they always had, ever since she was small. His grip was sure, but not out of naivety. Yes, he'd lost his innocence. It wasn't coming back. But what grew in his place, she realized, was his choice. And she got the feeling he'd already decided.

"That's good to know," he murmured softly, lashes brushing her cheek, and she thought they might be wet as well. "Because I'm never going to stop fighting for you."

They held each other for a long time.

---

The next day, Hikari showed up at Takeru's door with flowers and a box of chocolates. He made a funny face, looking her over.

"Flowers and chocolates? Shouldn't this be reversed?"

"Didn't know you were such a traditionalist," she joked. "But I'll eat these myself if they hurt your manly pride."

A hesitant grin spread over his face. "To hell with convention. Those are my chocolates, keep your paws off them."

It was silly, and cliche, but this was her life. She could be as silly and cliche as she wanted. She pulled his shoulders down and kissed him. It was light and quick, but he still looked flustered when they parted.

"My mom's home," he said with an unmistakable note of regret.

Hikari only nodded. "Figured. Video games and chocolates?"

The grin unfurled for real. "Yeah, that would be great."

Nothing had ended. She hadn't gotten over anything. But she felt, for the first time, that now she could accept it. It was a piece of who she was, and it would be a piece of who she became. But just who that person would be, she intended to decide for herself. Even if her path got buried under mountains of broken shards of glass, that was just a part of being Yagami Hikari.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes)."

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch19 Paintings By Ghosts

(It took me A LONG time to research and find out what all the paintings in Hat Kid's gallory looked like. If I missed any or got any wrong please let me know. All mentioned paintings can me seen in the painting room through the green door in the machine room of the ship.)

Lunch breaks were nice.

She was starving so before anything else she wanted to get somethin' in her stomach. Looking in the lil gal's fridge, there really wasn't too much of anything. It was all pretty empty except for a basket of apples, half a cheese wheel, and what looked like a carton of eggs. Well, she wasn't about to not get something to eat, and down at least three of those apples she had. They weren't as sweet tasting as she remembered the ones her father grew on their farm were, but as if this person was going to start complaining about food at this point of her life. Sure her life was REALLY crazy up to this calm point, all of it sounded like a really bad story, she was going to have to learn a whole knew pecking world different from her old one, and she was going to have to deal with her past. But if there was one thing she needed to do now was take that darn ghost's advice.

"The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you. But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers."

He was right. What had happened happened and there's no way she was going back there anyways, so it looks like she'd just have to start where she left off way back when. Hard work. Save up enough pons. And get that flower stand! May not seem like a giant grand idea like some would expect, but that's what she always wanted. A life where she could surround herself by precious beautiful flowers admiring their beauty and scent and give them all to people who enjoyed them as much as she does. Her blue eyes reflected in the gold coloring of the bracelet that was still tight around her wrist, bringing her other hand up to clamp around it to herself. Her business may have never taken off if that one fateful encounter with the handsome and kind prince from the neighboring kingdom hadn't taken such interest in the way she grew her little babies. He never said one bad thing about them. Complimenting on how deep a red her roses are and surprising him when she said they didn't just come in red...She chuckled remembering that silly surprised face of his.

The prince stared at her shocked, brown eyes blinking as she held out the white and red rose bouquet to him. "Wow. You're telling me they really come in more than three colors?"

She nodded  back at him. "Yep! How many colors did you think they came in?"

He figeted fiddling with the soft petals of one white rose nervously. "W-Well. I knew there was a whole bunch of red ones, and I knew there was white ones because my mother always uses then for balls. A-And I saw black roses at my grandmother's burial. May she rest in peace.....Wait." His brown eyes widened as he stared at her. Poppy blinked when he suddenly put his hands on her stand leaning forward a little. "H-HOW MANY COLORS OF ROSES ARE THERE?! I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW!!"

After a moment, the red head smiled and gestured to a whole slew of potted roses behind her he didn't seem to notice and his jaw dropped at the sight of them all. "Well, you sure like to learn things, so let me tell ya a thing or two about roses. There's all different breeds of roses, but all of them fall under one of the eleven color catagories ya hear? There's red, white, n black like you're used to seein'. But then there's yellow, blue, pink, purple, orange, and even green!"

His eyes landed to a beautiful batch of emerald green roses Poppy pointed out and his eyes widened more. "Those would be perfect for Vanessa! They match her emerald eyes so perfectly." He smiled and turned to Poppy. "I'd love to have some....But wait." He counted on his fingers. "Red, white, black, yellow, blue, pink, purple, green, orange-....That's only nine. I thought you said there was eleven."

She giggled. "You caught me! You see. Some are different shades of blue or pinks, but they'd still be classified under those colors, but some roses have two colors on them."

"You're KIDDING!"

"Nope!" Turning around. She spotted one of her hanging planters and reached up to pluck one of the ones near the top, carefully minding the thorns and brought it down to him. He stared at it in amazement. IT REALLY DID HAVE TWO COLORS!! It was a yellow rose but the tips of the petals were a dark pink, almost red as Poppy smiled at it. "This is what you call a Bi-Color pattern. Some breeds of roses have two colors like this. They're really popular at birthdays. But...If you want something real purty like." She set the single rose down and looked at him. "I got one more surprise for the history books."

"And what would that be?"

"Rainbow roses." He blinked confused so she held up a hand and bent down to rummage around under her stand. "I wanted to keep these hidden for the time being because I wanted to sell my over stock of other roses first since an unexpected amount bloomed this year. And you know how everyone's gonna be itchin' to buy their loved ones flowers on Cupid's Day. I wanted to sorta save these for special customers." She grabbed a small pot of something and stood up. Holding the pot just enough to be seen by him leaning over the stand and no one else passing by. His. Jaw. DROPPED. THEY WERE RAINBOW!!! Every color save for black and white was on there. All in different places on the petals and some petals being full different colors along with blended petals with two different colors mixed on them. They almost didn't look real. As if someone painted on them blindly with multiple paints. Poppy gazed at them lovingly. "My Great Great Granddaddy Willow 'Tree' Bloomington was able to cross breed all kinds of roses together until he made them. "

"I heard of him before. He used to be the Royal Gardener for the Old Owl King didn't he? They say the gardens were never more beautiful than when he was in charge."

She nodded but frowned. "That's right. That ol' birdbrain wanted my great great granddaddy to never share his masterpiece with anyone else. Wanted them all to himself, but that's like askin' an artist to not show off his art. So when he retired, he stole a few clippings and fled the country. Since then these beautiful little guys have been my family's birthright. We're extremely picky about who gets them...Or at least I am. Papa thinks I should've just stayed on the farm and become a milk maid like Mama." The prince's eyes softened at the small frown on her face but she was quick to smile again for an important customer. "So! Will it just be the one bouquet for ya, Princey? Or were ya'll still interested in those pretty green ones?" She asked as she tucked away the beautiful colorful ones again.

"I..." he glanced over to the emerald green ones then to the giant one he was already holding....And smiled again. "You know I think I will take another lovely arrangement of those too. Equal size."

Poppy smiled. "Coming right up, Your Highness!" In a few moments, she held out a pretty arrangement of green roses the shade of Vanessa's eyes all wrapped up in pretty white paper. "Two extra large bouquets will be eight pons please-" She paused and blinked when the white and red rose bouquet was held out to her and eight tiny green diamonds were dropped to the stand. "Oh. Do you need me to hold that?"

"N-No. T-they're for you."

"Me? Why? I thought you wanted to give Princess Vanessa double flowers."

"Uh.." He quickly gave a nervous smile. "W-W-Well, on Cupid's Day people give their friends and f-family too. It's all about spreading love to those you care about. It doesn't have to mean romanticism at all! Especially because I consider you a close friend!" He grinned wider nervously and wished he could push himself for how weird he must've looked. But Poppy just smiled.

"Well aren't you sweet?" She happily took the roses from him. "Now I can see why so many people like ya! And why Princess Vanessa took a likin' to ya! Such a gentleman to everyone! But are you sure you're not givin' me my own flowers?"

"Hey. I paid for them, so technically they were my flowers to do as I pleased with, and I w-wanted to show my appreciation to my.....f-friend."

"Aw. Ya'll just too kind. If that's the case, then you don't need to pay for mine."

He held up his hand and grabbed the green rose bouquet. "No, no. You did the hard work growing them. I ordered them in the first place. And they're already cut. The least I could do was pay the four pons for them. B-Besides. I don't believe in special treatment."

"Well alright. If ya insist. But here." She looked back down to the yellow n pink rose she had picked to show him and picked it up again, minding the thorns and holding it out to him. "Here! A small token from one friend to another too! On the house!"

He smiled and slowly took it from her. "Well then...Thank you, friend....I-I..Should probably be getting these to Vanessa."

"That's a fair point. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting on Cupid's Day. It's the most romantic day of the year!"

"Heh. Yeah....L-Love."

Sells really did increase after word of the prince buying her flowers went around. That day alone must've been her best Cupid's Day ever cuz right after he left with those green roses a woman came up to her and asked for five purple roses for her parents and sisters followed by others. She sold her normal quote for flowers that day plus lots of extras! She was able to get lots of work providing for small weddings in the town square, parties, and other festive times. All because of one friend's kindness. She felt guilty now that she only got so much business from his reputation but this time she'd have to really work for her dream! And she was totally going to be the best florist anyone's every had in a thousand years! For now she'd just rest a little while and help out with whatever that purple onion jack o lanturn had in mind, and wait to see what he was planning. She wasn't sure what to expect from a giant ghost but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Poppy made her way back out the kitchen's double doors after dipositing her third apple core into the trashcan in the corner, and the scene in the control room made her smile. The two girls were sitting on pillows a little ways from the television playing with the gold castle, it looked like a game of princess since Bow was making a princess doll scream help from the tower and Hattie was acting out the villain with that golden mafia man. The other old things like the gold pencil and cookie was all in a small random pile a few feet from them both.

"You will never have the princess! She'll be locked away forever and the kingdom of gold will be mine! Muahahaha!!," Hattie said in a fake deep man's voice.

"Oh yeah! Well I, Sir Cat-o-lot, will save her!," Bow threatened back holding out a small black cat plush. They must've heard her giggling when she came down cuz they both looked up at her as she came in and Bow waved at her. "Hi, Poppy! Wanna play?"

"Yeah! You can be the giant who comes and steals the gold up the apple tree in the sky!...Or was it a bush in the sky?"

"I'd love to, Pumpkins. But I still gotta job to do, don't you remember? I'd rather finish it and then relax a lil bit. There anywhere we missed?"

Hattie shook her head. "No. Rumbi already swept everywhere, the painting room was so small and easy. He's still sweeping the engine room."

"What about the mail room?,'' Bow asked pointing to the yellow tunnel entrance poking out from the wall near the engine room door. "It has junk mail all over the place after Mayor Mafia Glasses read through them all."

Mail room huh? Well she didn't know who this Mayor mafia ..glasses?? was, but if it was the last room she needed to clean then she might as well get it all done. Then she could finally relax for the day. Walking over the yellow entrance, the children went back to their little game giggling. Great. This entrance looked small too, she'd probably have to crawl through there as well and drag the broom behind her like last time. Leaning down, she peeked inside....And fell backwards with a yell. Both girls flinched and looked up at her loud yell as Poppy stumbled before landing on her behind at the sight of two yellow glowing eyes and mouth smiling at her from the darkness. A high pitched raspy laugh rang out and two clawed hands reached out to grab the outside of the yellow tunnel, before the darkness pulled himself out smiling and revealing himself to be non other than the famous snatching ghost himself. Poppy's scared and confused face quickly turned to one of anger as she scowled.

"I should have known!"

"AHAHAHAHA!! You should've seen how utterly scared you looked! That's a feeling I never get tired of seeing any day," he rasped out and looked down smiling at her as Poppy stood up and dusted herself off. Giving him a scowl.

"So is THIS one of the pranks I heard about? Y'know for 'the most powerful ghost on this measly planet' that sure wasn't very impressive."

"HEY!" He scowled back and crossed his arms. "There's NOTHING wrong with a classic hide and go boo routine! Works almost a hundred percent of the time! And you're one to talk about not impressive work." He jabbed a claw over at the watching girls. "Playing and walking around when there's work to be done? That's not productive at all."

"We're already finished."

".........WHAT?!" It took him a few moments to register what she said but when he did his head snapped to her so fast she was afraid it was going to float off and faze through the wall. "You couldn't have cleaned an entire ship in one day?!"

"Well, to be fair we aren't all the way done." She pointed behind him with a deadpanned look. " We're waiting for Rumbi. An' I still need to go fix up whatever's up there and I need to hammer a plank of wood back in place upstairs since we found gold buried under it. Now excuse me." Snatcher gave off a confused noise when Poppy just pushed his tail aside and went back to peer back up into the yellow tunnel. She could see a light and some kind of papers floating around everywhere. "Hey! One of yall get me the broom and somethin' to catch a bunch of flying paper." Bow nodded dropping her toys in favor of running off to the kitchen as Poppy turned back to the tunnel and started crawling her way up it towards the light.

"You found what under what?!" Snatcher turned back as Poppy disappeared into the yellow tunnel. "H-HEY! Don't you know it's rude to walk away from your boss when he's talking to you about your contractual obligations!?" When he didn't get an answer he stuck his head in the tunnel entrance. "Yes? No? HELLO!! Why aren't you saying anything?!"

"Y'know, for a dead guy you sure have a loud mouth!," she called back smiling when she heard him sputter.

"WHAT?! The peck I'm not! You're the one ignoring me!" He floated through the walls after her snorting form.

"Maybe so but I think your bark is worse than your bite, Purple Onion! What are you doing here anyways? I thought ya were busy." Her face popped up out of the entrance just in time for it to get smacked by a very old envelope, to which she shook her head and got it off to gawk around. Papers were flying around alright, they were laying all over the place if they were flying about or in a big pile on the other side of the room. In the middle of the room was a desk with two pans on it. One was green and said IN and the other was red and said OUT. There was also a few pole blocker things in front of the desk like the ones around those metal table things she'd been seeing around. A small coffee table stood off to one side of the room with two blue seated cushioned seats, near the entrance was two metal deviders and a giant wooden dresser, and to her far left was a giant basket filled with more old letters, a fan, and a pale carpet stood under the desk. She gazed up hearing a snicker and Snatcher was there probably because of the letter smacking her face. Before giving a grunt when a piece of paper smacked him in the pace making her snort again. "Not so funny yourself Mr. Meany."

He swiped the letter off his face scowling and staring at her. "HEY! I'm not completely heartless you know. Every so often I steal letters from others and deliver them to my minions as if they were getting something. It helps lift their spirits so to speak. And to answer your question." He threw the paper away which fluttered to the ground. "I often come back and check on new employee's progress every few hours or so, this is no different. But I have to say I'm suprised with how reliant you were for this tack."

"Well I did have the two best helpers in the world." She smiled and finally got to stand up in the room looking around with a hum. "This one might be a little tricky, but can't be worse than a room of snow. And I still have to hammer that bourd back. Bow tugged it loose after that gold."

"Where the peck did you all get the gold? Im pretty sure I don't pay you until after the job is done, as I'm not legally obligated to pay for unfinished work."

"From the Roach King."

"The Roach what?!"

"Ask them if ya'll want some answers." She turned hearing some footsteps behind her and smiled seeing Bow in the entrance to the yellow hallway. A broom and dustpan in one hand and a trashbag in the other. "Well, why thank you honeybunch!" She reached over hand out for them and Bow handed them over.

"I couldn't find any nets, so I thought you could use the bag to catch them?"

Poppy smiled standing back up and looking over to the mail floating around and sighed. "Actually I think we'll be needing a lot more bags if we want to clear all this mess out." She pointed towards the giant pile of letters along the wall. "That spinny thing there is propellin' these here letters up and then they're blown all 'round the room makin' a mess. We'll have to just get rid of all this junk."

Bow scratched her head. "How? I don't think they'll all fit in the trashcan."

Poppy smiled and looked up towards Snatcher who after staring a couple seconds back to her finally got a sense of what she was thinking. "HEY! Just a pecking second here! You're not pawning them off on me!"

"I'm not. You can just take 'em and give them all to those precious lil helpers of yours can't ya?"

"Well...Yes. But who are you to decide what I DO with my time?"

"Oh c'mon. it'll be so sweet of ya." Her big blue eyes shined at him as she smiled up towards him. "Won't ya just help a gal out with this just once? You're other uh...'employees' would really get a hoot from it too-"

"OH ALRIGHT!!" He turned his head away. Anymore staring at her smile and he'd start feeling mushy which he hated. "But I expect YOU to get them all ready to go for me! Since Im not legally obligated to help with cleaning."

Poppy eagerly agreed and sent Bow back to grab more bags from her as she got to work picking up a few of the letters scattered about on the floor at her feet. Snatcher having nothing else to do at the moment decided to leave the mail room and fazed through the wall back into the control room in time to see Bow slam open the kitchen doors and run in. At the sight of her ghostly BFF, Hattie sprung up and bounded up to him. Chattering about how much of a good helper she had been and how she was STILL a better helper cu technically she was still cleaning....Well really Rumbi was the one sweeping away at the engine room but she put him there in the first place. And then when his yellow eyes looked over at all the random gold objects laying in a pile, he pointed a claw and asked about it. Her face lit up even more and she went on a long spree about how she found these mysterious notes in her room and then Poppy found a whole bunch more while cleaning and then they followed them up all the way to the attic. And then Hattie went on to tell him about how Bow busted open a plank of wood from the side of the staircase in the attic and it turns out there was gold in it! Speaking of Bow, she had burst back out of the kitchen sometime during her ramble and dragged a good number of black trash bags behind her disappearing into the yellow entrance most likely going to delivery them to Poppy. In the mean time Hattie told him all about how this roach stole her gold potion and turned all this stuff and the gold potion itself into gold. Holding up the objects one by one up to him. The cookie, the gear, the potion, and her most proud posession the gold castle which she beamed with happiness eager to show it off to him. If he was anyone else he would've called her reaction cute, but all it got was a small half smile from the ghost before the hatted child had the brilliant idea he should come and see the notes for himself. Eh...Why the peck not right? He had literally nothing else better to do while waiting on the cleaning duo up there, and he was sure Minion Number 47 could run the place for a little while longer in his absence. She WAS head of the manor staff when she was alive so she'd have no trouble giving orders to lots of people on a tight scheduale. He saw the notes alright, and this mysterious Roach King they were all talking about. The gold roach statue sat ontop of the papers he apparently left out for them to follow and Snatcher couldn't help but read through them all not that the child seemed to mind at all. She left in the middle of him reading through them, saying something about needing to check up on Rumbi but he didn't care. He was honestly surprised at the letters addressed to the girls, having such kind words to say about them both, but they weren't wrong either. In fact they were very accurate to their positive nature, but if he could add a few things it'd be childish, sassy, and a whole bunch of other things to describe them then just having a gold heart. As they were much more than a gold heart, but hey. The guy turned himself into gold. What was he supposed to expect from him? Placing the notes and gold statue of the roach wearing a crown, he decided it was about time he headed back and see what was up. Imagine his slight surprise when he popped his head through a wall and saw what looked like a large round black ball stuck in the entrance to the slide. Which gave way a moment later and tumbled to the floor revealing itself to be a full trashbag and Hattie tumbling after it landing on her stomach with a thud. The hatted child pushed her self up pushing the comically large hat off her face and scowling at the bag. Snatcher could only watch in amuzement as she rolled it over towards four other full trashbags near the control panel.

"Sheesh, Kid. That's a lot of mail," he commented.

"There's three more bags," Hattie groaned before hanging her arms and stomping her way way towards the slide entrance as yet another bag was having a hard time exiting. Most likely by Bow shove it. "Cleaning is so BORING! Why do I gotta do it?"

"You're not the only one, Kid. And by the sound of things, you've never would've found that gold if you didn't clean up," He pointed out just as Bow popped her head out as the bag shot out.

"Yeah. But now we found it and now it's boring!," she whined back heading to the slide.

"Aren't that robot and Poppy the ones who've done most of the work?"

"WE HELPED!!"

"Then you should have no problem helping her with one last teensy tiny room." He glanced at Bow running back with a smile on her face. "By the looks of things you're practically done already."

Hattie groaned but followed Bow back up the slide towards the mail room, followed by Snatcher who fazed through the wall after them. "Anyone ever tell you, you work too hard for you're own good," he asked popping his head just above the slide exit.

Poppy chuckled wiping down the desk before looking over her shoulder at him. "Lots of times. But I aim to please, and I learnt a long time ago that hard work comes good rewards." She watched the two girls dragging the last two bags away and smiled. The mail room didn't have to be that clean to be honest. There was barely even any dirt on the ground. A quick sweep, bag the useless mail, wipe down these tables, and she even dumped those blocker rod things in the empty giant basket over there outta the way. "The place is mighty fine looking without paper smackin' your face. I didn't know aliens had a mail room...Well to be honest I didn't know they could have a painting room or anything else either."

Something about that sentence made Snatcher freeze for a moment and stare at her. " You...saw the paintings?"

"Well....No. But Hattie told me she already had the place swept so it's already taken care of ain't it?"

"Would you like to see it?," he asked a small feeling of excitement bubbling from his chest.

"I would  but I have the attic to fix don't I-" She jumped when Snatcher grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

"That can wait! You're taking your once a day fifthteen minute break and coming with me. What's the point of living here if you don't see the entire complex?,'' he said with an almost cheery voice and looked down to the small girls pushing the last of the junk down the slide slowly. "Get good Kids! We have some real work to see!"

At one point, Hattie fed up with everything took a few steps back, before tackling the bags and Bow along with them. They all unstuck pretty quickly tumbling down into the control room with the kids landing all in one giant heap on the ground. Well ....That certainly did the trick didn't it? Snatcher seemed to be please as he tugged Poppy along and only stopped when she yanked her hand out of his grasp. He froze as she gave him a stern look for a couple seconds, before willingly going down the slide entrance herself. Oh if only he could punch himself for that. Poppy emerged a moment later in the control room and glanced up at Snatcher with narrowed eyes.

"I understand you're excited, but trying to yank me through a wall isn't an option. I would've bashed my head into that wall there!" Those yellow eyes glanced to the wall for a moment seeming to register what she was getting at. Oh. Right. Walls and humans don't really mix all too well huh? "Now don't you go doin' that again."

"Uh....Sure."

.....She gave a small smile again. "There. That wasn't too hard was it? Now whatcha going on about paintings for?"

"The painting room?" Hattie struggled out of the small pile her and Bow were in with protests from Bow but managed to squeeze out of there and up towards her dusting herself off and up to them. "I can show you! It's right by the engine room through the green do-"

"Whoa! Hey! That's MY thunder you're stealing kid!" A giant purple claw gently grabbed Hattie around the waist and pulled her back as the giant ghost leaned down to give her a look. "You have you're fun and now it's my shot. Don't be a rude little lady." Hattie gave a small pout and huff but didn't say anything else much to his delight as he put her down and patted the top of her hat before turning back to Poppy. "Well that seals that deal! Why don't we just go see those paintings?" he pointed towards the engine room door. "Trust me when I say this is the best part of the breaking experience."

"I reckon I don't have a say so to your looney persistance don't I?," she asked smiling at him but slowly followed behind none the less.

"NOPE!!"

A feeling of excitement welled up in him again as he smiled and shot through the wall faster than a bullet in one dark purple blur. Making her blink and shake her head. Well....She really ought to see the entirety of this ship then shouldn't she? One last room wasn't gonna hurt her. Leaving the girls to bicker over whatever little girls bickered over she followed right after the ghost through the tunnels. A moment later she saw himself sticking out of the walls of grinding gears above a green doorway and gestured for her to follow as he ducked back into the wall. And of course, she followed, side stepping Rumbi who was still sweeping around, wanting to see what he was so excited over. The hallway there was a little darker than the others but there was enough light for her to see that it also was littered with excellent gear designs but this time it was a very dark green. These aliens must be very rich to afford a weaver to make such excellent carpets. When the door opened on the other side oh boy she was in for another surprise.

"There you are!," Snatcher called from the ceiling below with a smile. That ghostly hair n fluff of his hanging down towards the floor as he grinned. "Took you long enough! Get in here and see what you've been missing!''

She did so and was thankful the room despite being small was big enough for her to stand in, it had red flooring and a green plain carpet running it's length. At one corner of the small room she saw yet another metal table thing with these 'relics' as Hattie had called them. This one was a UFO mobile and under it attached by strings were three cows that looked the same but were different. One wore glasses and a tin foil hat, one wore just green sunglasses, and the other one didn't wear anything and looked totally normal. But it wasn't that that caught the attention of the red head. PAINTINGS!! There were paintings of different sizes, lengths, and styles that she had never seen before. She gawked at the meer sight of them all looking at each wall slowly taking it all in. At the very back wall was the fist thing she saw when she crawled in and her eyes lazer pointed on the largest of the six paintings that were on it. Why..It was Hattie herself! She looked might sweet standing in a field holding her umbrella open, her yellow cap and hair blowing in the breeze. If she hadn't known better she thought the painting would've giggled at her funny expression. Next to that one was a city shrouded by night, the only lights coming from the windows on the tail buildings and the cresent moon painted under it. The one directly under it was a bit strange. It was the face of a gold tribal man on a grey background and he wore pure black glasses. How odd. The other three were realitively small compared to those three. One being a close up of a plant's green leaves, a baby crow leaning against a wall next to toy blocks, and a pretty forest landscape. She could see a few trees and mountains in the distance of it. Turning her head to the right, Poppy noticed the right wall had only five. The tiny rectangle one in the top corner of the right wall was a burly looking man riding on top of a ...giant slab of meat? Below that was a picture of Hattie's face. Well, four pictures of Hattie all looking alike but with different color pastels. The entire square painting was divided into four smaller squares and each one had a Hattie of a different color tone. How strange. Then there was a giant portrait of a man with a mustache and beard. He wore a red suit that looked quite expensive. And next to that was two others, one was a black background with nothing but red thorny vines painted on it, and the other was a bit more stranges. It was divided into three background colors (red, green, and yellow) and had a bubble with different items in each. One was a heart, another a giant green diamond, and what looked to be a small king's crown.

"What do you think of work?," Snatcher asked proudly crossing his arms and looking pleased with himself.

Poppy leaned to the right wall and gently laid her hand on the frame of the red suited man in wide eyed wonder....before turning to him. "YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him.

His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you."

Poppy looked behind her and took a few steps back from the doorway she had crawled in from to look at the six painting hanging above the doorway. Two were big. One was of two burly men who looked exactly alike and they looked to be farming folk like her parents were, the other one was of the famous Snatcher himself, with some king of background she didn't recognize. Maybe a bridge? He was in the middle holding his face in what looked like a very shocked expression. The others weren't grand scale but interesting anyways. Three of them were again Hattie but one looked more like a sketch that had her with double arms and legs. How bizarre. The one of Hattie next to it was her from her shoulders up but wearing a strange mask. It was green and red with black polka dots. The one of Hattie above those two was a much more normal one. It was of Hattie sitting down with her hands in her lap and behind her was a BEAUTIFUL background of mountains, a wide lake, and forest. The last one in the corner was another strange one. It was the man in the red suit again sitting on a throne, and a whole bunch of the burly men who looked a like bowing to him as if he was a king.

"These are...A-AMAZING!!"

She looked over to the last wall which had the biggest paintings on it. The strangest one was also the biggest. What looked like some desert landscape with a single dead tree and melting hour glasses all over it. Above that was another one of you guessed it, Hattie. In outerspace wearing an astronaut suit and connected to her spaceship. She looked so cartoony and adorable! A red boat sailing alone on a stormy sea, she could almost smell the sea air. One of the smaller large ones was just a beige background and just Hattie umbrella painted on it. And the the very last one was an abstract orange portrait of some man wearing sunglasses and a flower shirt. Snatcher however was looking VERY pleased at all the praise he was getting stroking his already huge ego as the smiling red read looked back to him with a wide smile.

"I can't believe you painted all of these!"

"Well you better, Red. Because I'm taking full credit for what you see." He 'polished' his claws against his neck fluff and examined them. "I don't usually do it, but sometimes if I'm bored and don't have a new supply of books to read I'll start on one and work on it a bit at a time. One of my lesser known talents." He then pointed at the room around him. "Couldn't really have these in the forest. Too many ways they could be damaged, so here was more ideal."

"I can see why." She turned her gaze around the room again before giggling and giving him an almost smug look. "Ya'll must really adore that little girl. There's six paintins' with her sweet lil face on 'em. But strangely I see none with the other one."

He paused for a moment looking at her...before coughing and looking away embarrased. "Well. Yes. I'm proud of them. In a way.....But we learnt the hard way the kiddo was allergic to paint and she wasn't too fond of the idea of her being painted."

Poppy guessed he was referring to Bow and hummed. "Poor thing. I can understand how that feels. But still." Her smile became all the more loving to him. "You have acceptional talent for this king of stuff. I reckon now I can say I was abducted by aliens and saw paintings by ghost. Hehe!"

He felt a warm feeling bubble up at the giggle but he cleared his throat and looked away again crossing his arms. "A-Alright! W-Well I think your legal fifthteen minute break is over, Red. Didn't you have something else to do today?"

"OH RIGHT!! The attic. I wonder if that girl has a hammer and nails?"

"Pretty sure she does since she literally has everything around her-......" He stopped midway through his rant and stared at her. Or more acturrately the bottom of her dress with all the rips and hole in it and pointed it out to her. "What the peck happened to you?"

She blinked and looked down to where he was pointing. "Oh. This? I think I got it all ripped up crashlandin' through those trees."

"You look like a homeless maid wearing that." He grunt and rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to fix that too."

Her red brow rose in surprise. "You sew too?"

"Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." His hand proudly pointed to himself. "I happen to be a powerful being with unlimited hidden talents." ..........Poppy's face suddenly turned into one of amuzement and she snorted again hand shooting to her mouth while the other went to her gut to try and hide the laughter. Which Snatcher flabbergasterdly got angry at. "WHAT'S WITH THAT LAUGHING!? WHAT?! YOU DON'T THINK MEN CAN SEW!? THAT'S LOW COMING FROM YOU!!" She snorted again sounding like a pig doubling over a bit and smiling wider behind her hand making Snatcher give a small growl. "HEY!! DON'T LAUGH AT ME YOU DOTTED FACE!! IM THE SNATCHER!! KING OF SUBCON AND TAKER OF SOULS!!"

She snorted again and in a strained voice said. "Oh yes. *Wheeze* T-The great and horrible monster ghost. Daddy of aliens, Painter of...HMHM! HAHA!! D-Daughters. And tailor of dresses."

Snatcher let out the biggest flustered peacock sqawk she'd ever heard and she lost it. Doubling over onto her knees, both hands gripping her sides as she leaned over and laughed hard, snorting a few times. Snatcher's cheeks lit up with a bright yellow flush and his fluff floofed out of embarrassment as he just kinda sputtered and stared at the laughing woman on the floor at a loss for words. Eventually forcing something out.

"OH YEAH!! W-WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A POOR MAID!! JUST-.....GO CHANGE OUTTA THAT RUINED DRESS BY THE TIME I LEAVE IF YOU WANT IT FIXED!! A-AND GO FIX THAT STUPID ATTIC AS PUNISHMENT!!"

He dissappeared back up into the ceiling leaving the wheezing and laughing woman hugging her sides through her laughing fit. Coughing when she couldn't get enough air. Oh boy. Was he gonna be sour for a while.

[theoriginalladya]

For Rhys: 18. playing with hair

from this list

On AO3 here

Finally got these two to talk about this one!  Whew!  Thank you so much for asking!!!!!

~~~

Rhys is pretty sure it’s bad form to yawn while Kaidan is in the middle of explaining the changes of the layout to the Normandy as they walk through the CIC.  In fact, he knows it is, but there’s not much he can do about it as tired as he is. Still, he’ll put forth the effort to push through as long as he can and then, maybe once they’re on the elevator or someplace where so many pairs of eyes aren’t focused solely on him or the two of them, he’ll ask the commander where his bunk is.  But for now, he plays his part, which requires him to tip his hat and smile in greeting at the young comms specialist who keeps glancing over at him while she runs through the most important messages that have come in for Kaidan.  Another yawn pulls at his jaw and Rhys has to turn away this time and cover his mouth with his hand.  

Kaidan’s hand knocking gently into the upper part of his left arm brings him back around sooner than he’d like.  There’s a knowing twinkle in his eyes, the kind that leaves Rhys now dreading being alone with him.  He hasn’t been sneaky enough hiding it.  You know, don’t you?  Dammit!

“Come on, let’s get you settled.”

It takes a minute for the lift to arrive, and during that time, Rhys glances around the CIC.  The color scheme is better – no more of the gold and black and overly bright lights – and Traynor, while as enthusiastic as Chambers once was, appears to be a bit more pleasant to deal with.  When the doors open and she glances over at them, Rhys tips his hat once more and enters.  

Kaidan chuckles as he follows inside.  “You sure you should have left the hospital so soon?” he asks as he fiddles with the control pad to set their destination.

Rhys growls.  “Hell, yes!  I swear if that doctor made me drink any more of that stupid concoction she brewed up, I’d –!”

Kaidan’s brow arches, but there’s a hint of a smile at his lips.  “The same ‘concoction’ that helps with your migraines?  I would think you’d be glad of the relief.”

“I was… until I tasted it.”  He can’t hold back a shudder.  “The benefits aren’t worth it, trust me.  Just be thankful you got new hardware on your return, otherwise she’d probably be chasing after you as well.”

It’s only as the lift comes to a stop that Rhys suddenly realizes where Kaidan has brought them.  “Your cabin?”

Kaidan, already two steps out of the elevator, turns back with a nod.  “Though you might want something a bit more private than the crew’s quarters.”  He frowns for a moment, then walks back over. “If you’d rather –?”

“No,” Rhys interjects immediately, cutting him off. In all honesty, he’s uncertain how he feels about it, but he also doesn’t want to completely shut off the possibility. “It’s… okay.  I guess?  I just… I didn’t think about this as an option.”  Because I haven’t figured out yet where we stand with one another.

“Rhys, you don’t have to stay up here if you don’t want to,” Kaidan insists quietly.  “I just thought you might find it more comfortable.  The crew aren’t Cerberus this time, it’s true, but they are just as curious.  Remember what it was like back on the SR1?”

Rhys nods.  He meets Kaidan’s gaze, stares at him for a long minute, and ponders what to do. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to be here.  In fact, truth be told, he’s thankful for the possibility.  Still, things are, or at least were, awkward on Mars, and he doesn’t wish to be put into that sort of relationship with Kaidan again.  He has no desire to ruin any friendship they might still have.  

Running a hand over his face, Rhys steps off the lift, moving past Kaidan.  As exhausted as he is, this probably isn’t the best time to think about such important decisions, either.  Best to go with his idea for now, at least.  “This is fine,” he repeats around another yawn.

Kaidan doesn’t challenge him on it any further, and they head inside.  The décor is different, but without a major overhaul, there is little about the structure that is changed except for an added display case for the models.  It doesn’t surprise him that Kaidan already has it half full.  As they move further inside and Kaidan steps over to his office, Rhys wanders over to the fish tank.  There are a few swimming around inside, and when he lightly taps his finger on the glass, they scatter wildly before making their way back to investigate the disruption.

Kaidan chuckles again and Rhys glances over his shoulder to find him watching.  “Some things don’t change, I guess.”

Heat fills Rhys’ face, but he smiles.  “You know me and critters.”

Jerking his thumb in the direction behind him, Kaidan replies, “That I do.  Hammy’s still with us, too.”

It takes a moment to focus, but Rhys finally finds the hamster cage on the shelf where it had been the previous year.  “Good to know.”

They descend to the lower level where Kaidan identifies a couple of places where Rhys can store his belongings.  “Are you going to want to come out on missions with me again?”

Rhys shrugs.  “Depends on the mission, I suppose.  I can take care of myself; you know?”

Kaidan huffs.  “Sure, if infiltration units aren’t involved.  Oh, and speaking of, you should know that EDI now inhabits the one we took off of Mars.”

Rhys blinks.  “The one…?”

Kaidan nods.  “The one that injured you, yeah.  Doesn’t look quite the same, and it’s definitely EDI inside it now.  Just thought you should know since she sometimes comes out into the field with us.”

Inhaling deeply to steady himself, Rhys drops onto the sofa.  “Wow. Okay, good to know.”

“Hey, you okay?”  Kaidan drops to sit next to him, concern etching his features.  “I know this is a lot to take in and you’re still on the mend, but –”

“No, no.  I’m good,” Rhys hurriedly assures him.  “I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I guess.  Strange to think the Reapers really are here.”  He shakes his head back and forth a few times.  “God, I wonder how my grandparents are.”

Kaidan makes a soft sound of agreement.  “From what little I’ve been able to find out, the Reapers are mostly sticking to populated areas.  I’m hoping they, and my family, are staying safe enough.”  

Rhys looks over at him.  “Your folks are okay?  They made it to the orchard?”

“They did,” Kaidan explains.  “Dad saw Mom there safely, then he headed back to Vancouver to help with the fight.  Last I heard, he was listed MIA and presumed…”

Groaning, Rhys reaches over and squeezes Kaidan’s leg, a simple and gentle reminder his isn’t alone.  “Your dad is pretty smart.  I bet his communications have just been cut off or something.  Maybe he’s hiding out until he can regroup with Alliance forces.”

Though tight, Kaidan smiles.  “Heh, yeah.  That’s my hope, anyway.”

As he pulls his hand back, Rhys has to cover yet another yawn.  “Sorry,” he mutters.  “I promise, it’s not the company.”  

With a laugh, Kaidan rises to his feet.  “Come on, let’s get you lying down.  You’ll feel better after a nap.”

Rhys follows him across the room to the bed, somewhat reluctantly, but too damned exhausted to care at this point.  When he gets there, he sits on the edge of the bed and toes off his boots.  Or, at least he tries to.  Kaidan plucks the cowboy hat from his head and sets it on the shelf behind the headboard before assisting with the boots.  Rhys can’t even find the energy to protest.  As he lies back, sinking into soft pillows and comfortable bedding, he’s only a bit surprised when the bed dips slightly to his other side.  Turning, he finds Kaidan settling in next him, a couple of datapads in hand.  His thoughts drift back to the previous year, to the times they’d spend together up here together, a refuge from the Cerberus personnel, and he can almost get that same sense right now.

“Relax, Rhys,” Kaidan murmurs.  In the next moment, his hand drifts over and starts combing through Rhys’ hair in a slow, steady, rhythmic motion.  “Get some rest.  You can get caught up on the worries of the galaxy later.  Right now, you need sleep more than anything.”

“Quit treating me like a child,” Rhys manages around yet another yawn, and this time his eyes remain closed.  

Kaidan’s laughter, soft and gentle, is a balm.  “Then stop acting like one.  You’re worse than a baby when it comes to fighting off sleep, I swear!”

“How would you know?”

Nothing but silence is returned, but it’s just as well. Oblivion beckons far too temptingly, and Rhys has no ability to refuse.  For the first time in months, he trusts someone else to watch his back for him as he sinks into oblivion….

[aadmelioraa]

Merry + Bright 

for @tsukkinami​‘s TLK Monthly Challenge: Osferth, Boxing Day, Lights, Affectionate (aka, Holiday Fluff with the Cookham Crew)

“D’ya know where my keys are, Osferth?” Finan shouts from the next room over.

Osferth trips over a pile of laundry that, judging by the number of black t-shirts, belongs to Sihtric and falls backward.

“Jesus, lad.” Finan bounds into the room and pulls him to his feet.

“What on earth is that?” he asks, gesturing to the box that Osferth is clutching to his chest.

“Nothing, just some things I need to drop off at the church. Father Pyrlig is collecting donations.”

Finan lifts his chin to peer into the box. “That’s the sweater I gave ya last Christmas.”

He’s right. It’s a particularly ugly sweater. “Yeah, well…I grew out of it.”

Finan laughs. “I won’t take offense. But ya’ve quite a lot of clothing there, ya sure ya won’t be wandering naked come laundry time?”

“I have more than enough clothes, thank you.” Osferth follows Finan back into the room he and Uhtred shared. “Do you have anything you’d like to donate?”

“D’ya think they’d accept my warm wishes, particularly for any young ladies in need?”

Osferth grimaces and wraps a scarf around his neck. “I don’t know that anyone would find that particularly helpful.”

read the rest below or on ao3

“Pity. I have a few hats in that drawer there, I only really wear the one.”

Osferth gingerly hands Finan the worn black beanie he’s not often without this time of year and adds the remaining hats to his donation box. Finan pulls the hat down over his ears with a grin.

“Now you’re telling me that you’re helping Father Pyrlig out of the goodness of your heart, and not, say, a desire to get closer to the cute girl with the braids I’ve seen ya making eyes at?”

Osferth meticulously folds the top flaps of the box over each other, making sure the envelope of cash tips from his restaurant job doesn’t get lost in the mess of textiles. “I’ve no idea who you mean.”

Finan laughs and shakes his head.

To be honest, he isn't too far off—except that Osferth and Willa have been dating for weeks now. He’s planning to bring her to the house and introduce her to everyone next term. For now, he’ll let Finan think he had the upper hand even though Finan himself is pining over a girl he’d spoken to about twice.

“You’re headed to the church now then?” Finan’s coat makes a slight jangling noise as he pulls it on. “Ah, found my keys.”

“Yes, they’re serving dinner in about half an hour.” Osferth glances at Finan from the corner of his eye as he puts on his own coat. “Eadith will probably be there, she’s been helping Prylig organize the donations.”

Finan pulls the corners of his mouth down and nods casually as if that information is virtually meaningless to him. Osferth chuckles into his scarf as they make their way down the narrow hall and into the kitchen.

“Where are you two headed?” Eahlswith asks from her perch on the counter. She’s licking icing off a spatula while Sihtric decorates yet another batch of sugar cookies. He’s bent over the slightly lopsided kitchen table wearing a thrift store apron, meticulously applying sprinkles. Sihtric, for what it is worth, is the only member of the house with anything resembling a normal, stable love life.

“Church supper,” Finan answers as if it had been his idea. “Sihtric, are ya going to take a break from that? You've been baking for half the day now.”

“He’s got to finish decorating before the icing dries,” Eahlswith explains, rolling her eyes, as Sihtric mumbles, “I’ve only got thirty seconds per cookie to make it look really good.”

Osferth snatches an un-iced cookie off the tray and pushes the whole thing in his mouth before Sihtric can stop him. “I didn’t take one of your fancy ones!” he says defensively as Sihtric throws a dirty look in his direction and picks up the piping bag.

“We’ll see ya soon, then?” Finan says to Eahlswith.

“We may still be here when you get back,” she sighs, picking up her phone. Sihtric waves a hand at them distractedly as they step outside.

The winter chill is refreshing after the stuffy sugar-filled air of the kitchen. Osferth shoves his hands in his pockets and bumps Finan with his shoulder as he catches a glimpse of Uhtred on his way towards them.

“Boys!” Uhtred calls with a grin. “I was just coming to find you. Finan, Eadith was asking about you.”

“Was she?” Finan asks, slightly more flustered than he probably would have liked to appear.

“Well, she asked where my mates were, I can only assume she meant you.”

Finan mutters something unintelligible under his breath as Uhtred and Osferth exchange an amused glance.

“I didn't know that you were allowed in church, Uhtred,” Osferth says, stomping one boot against the ground to keep warm. “Didn’t Father Beocca ban you for stealing the communion wine?”

“Yes, but in my defense, it hadn’t been blessed yet,” Uhtred grins. “I got roped into helping Hild clean, then she sent me to find you two…and where is Sihtric?”

“Finishing his cookie decorating,” Osferth says.

“He may be several more hours,” Finan adds. “There were nine types of sprinkles on the table when we left—they seem to multiply every time I turn ‘round.”

“The man has hidden talents,” Uhtred shrugs, heading down the street. “I’ll meet you back at the church, I have to drop something off at Gisela’s first.”

It’s Finan and Osferth’s turn to exchange a glance. Whenever Uhtred has to “drop something off at Gisela’s” they usually don’t see him until the next morning.

Uhtred ignores them, merely calling over his shoulder that he’ll return soon.

The snow begins to fall by the time they arrive at the church and carefully make their way down the side entrance into the basement.

Young priest Father Beocca and his wife Thyra (Uhtred’s older sister) had begun the Boxing Day dinner tradition four years ago on a whim. They’d invited all the students who remained in town during the holidays to dinner at their house on the 26th and in return asked for donations to local families in need, but by last year it had become such a popular event that they’d had to begin hosting it at the church. This year, several students had returned for the day after spending Christmas at home. It’s always a casual but comforting affair.

The basement room, which smells like freshly baked bread and Beocca’s famous lentil soup, is crowded with folding chairs and students who have gathered in small groups to sort donations into the designated bins. Osferth drops his box (and Finan) with Eadith and makes his way over to Willa and Thyra who are preparing the buffet. Willa gives him a quiet smile which he reciprocates as subtly as possible.

“Sihtric will be here with the cookies soon,” Osferth explains, hoping it isn’t too much of a lie.

Thyra smiles cheerfully and hands him a stack of mismatched bowls. “Set those out, won’t you?”

Osferth does, making note of how many more students were in attendance this year. The energy in the church basement is anything but cold and dim—Father Prylig has set up an artificial tree in one corner, and Hild and Mildrith are stringing some colorful lights up above the door.

“Better late than never, right?” Aethelflaed asks, appearing beside him.

Osferth glances down at the cheese board she’s holding. “You don't think that’s overdoing it a bit for this ragtag group?” he asks affectionately.

She laughs and set the platter down. “Maybe, but I didn't want the leftovers from Mum’s Christmas party to go to waste.” She begins to arrange toothpicks for serving, her brow furrowing just slightly. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it, by the way. Maybe next year?”

It’s an awkward situation, trying to connect with a half-sibling you’d only known about for the past few months, but she’s doing her best.

“Yeah, maybe next year,” Osferth agrees.

She gives him a small smile and glanced across the room. He follows her gaze to where Aldhelm and Edward are arranging half a dozen mismatched tables into two long lines. Edward hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea of a half-sibling yet, so things are a little more awkward between them.

“He’ll come around,” Aethelflaed says confidently. Osferth wishes he shared her optimism, but he won't dampen her spirits.

“Oh, here—“ Aethelflaed offers him a small package wrapped in brown paper. “I was going to give it to you yesterday, but…” she trails off, a bit nervous—he hasn't seen her nervous before.

“It’s just something silly. You can open it later,” she adds, with a look towards Edward who now has his back to them.

“Thanks,” Osferth says, smiling widely, as he slips the gift into his pocket. “I didn’t get you anything—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Aethelflaed replies, eyes now fixed on Aldhelm who’s making his way over. “Next year.”

Aldhelm nods a greeting to Osferth and then begins to ask where to find tablecloths, which to Osferth appears to be a thinly veiled pretext to talk to Aethelflaed. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Your housemate is making quite a mess of the donations.” Hild is on his left now with a stack of napkins.

“Yes, but better that than the food,” Osferth points out.

Hild chuckles quietly. Finan has an unfortunate talent for making even the simplest dishes inedible.

“I see you and Willa are still keeping things a secret,” she adds, one eyebrow arched.

Hild is the only person who knows they are dating, and it was entirely because she’d accidentally walked in on them making out one day after choir practice. Osferth isn’t worried she’ll tell anyone, but the fact that two days later he ran into her on the way out of Willa’s hall one morning is an extra layer of security. Hild and Iseult, Willa’s RA, aren't “officially” dating yet either.

The tables are ready, the food all laid out. Brida, Thyra and Uhtred’s sister (who, to be honest, scares Osferth a bit) yells for everyone to make a plate.

“Thanks,” Osferth murmurs to Willa as she pulls a book off the chair next to hers.

“I think Thyra is on to us,” she whispers back, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Thyra is indeed beaming at them from the other end of the table.

“She’s a lot smarter than Finan,” Osferth whispers back, and Willa laughs.

Sihtric bursts into the room now, carefully balancing two large trays of sugar cookies. Eahlswith enters on his heels with another tray.

“Finally!” Finan shouts.

“He’d still be decorating if I hadn’t taken away his sanding sugar,” Eahlswith says to Thyra, somewhat apologetic. “Yesterday I didn’t even know what sanding sugar was.” She sounds like she wishes she could go back.

Sihtric oversees the display of his cookies with great pride, then he and Eahlswith manage to squeeze two more chairs around one of the tables.

Thirty minutes later nearly everyone’s plate is empty. Every year Thyra tells Beocca he’s made too much food and every year she’s proven wrong. Finan, as usual, starts the singing, and nearly everyone has joined in by the time Uhtred and Gisela join them.

It’s getting late, and everyone will probably head back to Uhtred’s house to drink after cleaning up, so Osferth helps clean up his table, thanks Beocca, and heads back to the house, taking a few bags of trash out on his way.

He lingers a block away, scarf pulled up around his ears, where Willa meets him.

“Hey,” she grins, and rises up on her toes to kiss him. Snowflakes catch and melt on her eyelashes, making her brown eyes sparkle even more.

He interlaces his fingers with hers as they make their way back to the house, carefully sidestepping patches of ice and hard ridges of snow.

“Everyone will probably head back this way soon,” he says, glancing behind them as if Finan and Uhtred would be barreling down the street any moment.

“I figured,” she says, lightly squeezing his hand. “It’s not the worst day for them to find out you have a girlfriend, right?”

Osferth grins. “No, definitely not.”

When, an hour later, Finan finds out, he exclaims “I knew it!”

Osferth lets him have this one.

[sdktrs12]

( Days 1 - 8 ) ( Days 9 - 16 ) ( Day 17 ) ( Day 18 ) ( Day 19 )

I apologize profusely for being late yet again and this lengthy chapter! Ratings bump - E (smut, smut, smut)

Beth watches from the doorway of her office as Annie takes an extra roll of white streamer and wraps it around Mick’s arm, slapping a piece of tape on it to hold before moving on to the other arm.  

He’d shown up to the Halloween party almost half an hour ago, sans costume and Rio, and Annie had pouted for all of five seconds before deciding she would just DIY him a costume instead.  

Apparently, he was going to be a mummy.

Beth bets he’ll probably rethink showing up costumeless next year.  

Or coming at all.  

She’s itching to ask him about Rio, but she’s also refusing to give in to temptation.  

He’ll show up when he shows up.  

If he comes at all... 

Beth smiles as Annie moves on from Mick’s arms to his neck and head and he tries to shake her off.  

She bites her tongue on yelling for her not to be wasteful, because they could recycle the Halloween decorations that didn’t get used for other holidays.  

But it’s just too much fun watching her little sister struggle to wrap up this surly, stocky, fairly intimidating man.  

She’d forced Annie to come in earlier to help her decorate for this party, grumbling the whole way even though she was the one who’d wanted to throw the damn thing, and they’d even roped Ruby in to help as well.  

They’d set up orange, black, and white balloons, streamers, banners and backdrops. Beth had added flashing lights, a fog machine, and a rented photo booth opposite the snack and drink table.  

And Annie had at least proven more than useful in that department, conjuring up some “potions” into shot glass tubes labeled ‘snake venom’ and ‘vampire blood’ and ‘witch brew’. 

Beth hears a loud laugh and looks over to her left, already knowing who it is before she even sees him.  

Dean’s standing by one of the hot tubs with Eric, talking to one of the new hires, Jessica.  

Jessica’s perched on the side of the hot tub, perky and cute and smiling up at Dean as he animatedly tells some story, flinging his arms out wide, almost hitting someone behind him and then he brings them in close again, pulling a truly goofy face and oh—Beth knows this story.  

She knows this facial expression and these wild gestures and she smiles as she anticipates the punchline, two seconds before all three of them start laughing and—

God, it’s...strange, being on the outside looking in at these jokes now.  

They’d come to this party separately, haven’t even interacted much since it started, but she still feels his presence, still knows exactly where to look to find him at any given moment and—

There he goes, head turning, eyes searching her out now that he’s finished his story, almost on instinct.  

He smiles and nods when he spots her and she returns the gesture and then he’s turning back to the small group and she wonders if that habit will ever fade. 

Beth steps away from the office door, moving further into the store, toward the drinks.  

She smiles and greets people as she goes, a little self conscious as she adjusts the hem of her dress, pulling at it a little.  

Honestly, she should never have let Annie have any say in her costume, but she’d been feeling desperate, this being the first Halloween party she’d been to in years that wasn’t just for the children.  

She’d spotted the witch hat while shopping for Annie’s Halloween costume and had immediately thought of Mick and known it was perfect for the party. She’d originally planned to wear it on its own, but then Annie had come swooping in, talking about some black dress she’d just seen that would be perfect for it.  

Said black dress turned out to be skin tight.  

But it at least covered a fair amount of skin, with a fairly decent length and covered chest, but it had an open and plunging back.  

When Mick had shown up, he’d taken one good look at her and turned away, but Beth swears she saw a smile before he did.  

Beth grabs a tube labeled ‘poison’, trying to remember what Annie said was in each one.  

She thinks this one might be vodka and...lime juice?  

Beth glances over in Annie’s direction, hoping to get her attention, and freezes, her heart skipping a beat because...

There he is.  

He’s leaning into Mick, trying to tell him something and Beth wonders what, how important and private it must be that he doesn’t want it shouted over the music playing.  

Annie’s talking to Ruby and Beth briefly wonders where Stan is before her attention is turning back to Rio.  

He’s wearing a deep blood red henley and dark jeans and she rolls her eyes because of course he didn’t dress up—but then he’s moving away from Mick and Beth’s mouth drops open slightly as she sees him fully, because there on his head are two red devil horns.  

Beth turns away quickly, biting back her grin as she tries to focus on the tube in her hand and the pale green liquid inside. She brings it up to her lips and quickly drinks it, tossing the empty tube into the recycling bin as she glances back over her shoulder at Rio...

Except he’s gone.  

Beth turns fully then, neck craning as she tries to see through the crowd and find him again.  

She moves slowly around the outskirts of the party, eyes on the crowd, so when she reaches the photo booth, she almost screams when a hand reaches out and grabs her wrist and yanks her in.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She hisses, shoving at Rio as she straightens herself up from where she’d been practically laid out across his lap. 

He ignores her question, eyes raking over her from head to toe and Beth pulls down at her dress where it’s ridden up, suddenly realizing how very small this photo booth is.  

“You look good mama. Suits you.” He observes with a smirk, still entirely too close for her brain to function properly.  

“Could say the same for you.” She retorts, reaching up and poking at his horns and he grins as he snatches her hand and brings it down to his mouth, biting at one of her knuckles and Beth yelps as she yanks it away from him.  

“Or maybe a vampire would’ve been more on brand.” She corrects, rubbing her finger over the mark he’s left and then she sucks in a sharp breath as he leans in close, mouth right next to her ear. “I can be both if that’s what you’re into, sweetheart.”  

“You know what I’m into—”  

“Lemme guess, people who knock?”  

And he has the nerve to laugh, because of course he would think his own jokes are just hilarious.  

“Why are you even in here? Do you actually show up in pictures or do you ghost out of those as well?”  

And there he goes, laughing again and making her want him so badly she can taste it.  

“I don’t know, ma, why don’t we find out.” He says it like it’s a challenge and she furrows her eyebrows, biting at her bottom lip because she’s serious...

“I’m serious, you have to take pictures like a normal person.” She says slowly and Rio rolls his eyes as his jaw clenches.

“I take pictures like a normal person, you let me bend you over that desk.”  

And just—what?

“No one said this was a negotiation.”  

“But ain’t it more fun if it is?”  

She glares at him and he just stares right back and she feels a flush creeping across her chest the longer she lets this silent battle stretch out.  

“Fine.” Beth reaches over and slaps her hand down on the button to start the pictures.  

The booth lights up in a soft glow, a voice coming over the little speakers to give directions and tips for the best pictures, but Rio and Beth are just staring at each other, still caught in this moment, neither one willing or able to break it, and Beth’s already cataloguing every detail, right down to the lick of his lips and the slow blink of his eyes as he brings his hand up, brushing it over her cheek just as the flash goes off for the first picture.  

And then Beth is practically crawling into his lap in the already limited space, and her skirt is too tight, she can’t position her legs the way she wants so she just ends up sitting in his lap as she slides her hands around to the back of his neck, gripping it tightly as she pulls him into a kiss.  

She pushes down on him, smacking his head against the wall as she grinds her ass into his lap and he groans against her mouth, arms coming up to wrap tightly around her and squeeze.  

The flash keeps going off until the pictures are all done and they have to pull apart to come up for air.  

And then there’s a knock against the side of the booth and a tentative question of whether they’re done or not and Rio shifts Beth off his lap, moving past her to exit the booth first, leaning off to the side and then reaching in and tugging her out by the hand.  

He makes a beeline straight for her office and Beth feels like her whole body is on fire with the way he pulls her through the crowd, the sense of urgency he always seems to feel when it comes to—this, to them, makes her chest ache with want.

He steps aside so she can go in first and then closes and locks the door, going around to each window and shutting the blinds and Beth laughs as she takes her witch hat off and tosses it aside, running her fingers through her hair. “You’ve never been very subtle.”  

“I’ve never been a lot o’ things before you, darlin’.”  

Beth glances over her shoulder and sees he’s done with the blinds, just standing and watching her now, and the laser focus he has, has her feeling a bit bold as her hands find the hem of her dress, fingers hooking in to shimmy the fabric up and over her ass as she leans over the desk, planting her hands firmly on top and she sucks in a sharp breath when he’s instantly on her, hands sliding over her ass, down her thighs, swiping between her legs like he craves every inch of her skin and he doesn’t know where to start first.  

Her breath quickens, breasts straining against her dress as her chest heaves a little and then his mouth is biting at her shoulder as she rocks back against him, and he’s plastering himself to her back, pushing her down with his body as he shoves things off the desk, until she’s pressed flat against it.  

He rocks himself against her a little, grinding into her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing over the silk of her underwear and jesus, Beth really thinks she could come just like this.  

He continues his slow assault on her senses even as he lifts up, his fingertips trailing down the expanse of exposed skin at her back. He leans down and places a single kiss along her spine and Beth shivers as she pushes back against him.  

She thinks he can sense her impatience, because he slows down even more and she whines in frustration.  

“You need something, baby?” He asks, laughter in his voice and Beth pushes herself halfway up. “You are so annoying.”  

But then he’s placing a flat palm against her back and pushing her back down, growling out a “Stay.” that has wet heat shooting low and jesus, she thinks she’s soaked through her underwear already and he’s barely touched her.  

He reaches down and yanks her underwear off and then he’s bending down and biting one of her ass cheeks and Beth jerks against the desk as she gasps. 

She swings her arm back to smack him and he grabs her wrist, pinning it against the small of her back as his other hand unzips his jeans and Beth tries to pull her hand away, but his grip just tightens and then he’s kicking at her feet, spreading her legs further apart right before he pushes into her and Beth bites down on her lip to stop from crying out, her free hand smacking against the top of the desk.  

“Fuck, Elizabeth...drive me fuckin’ crazy.” He husks, pressing into her wrist harder as he pulls out slowly and then thrusts back in just as slowly, repeating the motion again and again and again until Beth feels like she can’t take anymore.  

“God, Rio please...” She breathes out trying to pull at her wrist once more, and this time he lets her go, pulling out of her and yanking her up and spinning her around, dropping her right on top of the desk before pushing into her again just as his thumb swipes over her clit and Beth sees stars, eyes closing as her hand yanks at Rio’s shirt and he kisses her, swallowing her moans as she comes. She slumps against him and he slows his thrusts into short shallow ones as he places soft kisses along her neck and collarbone and lips.  

And then he’s gathering her up close in his arms, holding her tight as he fucks into her fast and hard, chasing after his own orgasm, and she strokes her hands over his hair and neck and shoulders, shivering a little when she feels him come inside of her.  

They stay like that, clinging to one another, for awhile and Beth thinks this might be her favorite part.

This part right after, when he’s still inside of her, the hard, sharp planes of his body pressed so firmly, so surely, against her soft curves, breathing heavily against her skin as he presses open mouthed kisses there.  

This part when he’s soft and pliant and trembles beneath her gentle touch.  

He gently pulls out of her and she lets out a shuddering breath as she keeps a grip on his arm, keeping him close and he chuckles as he pulls his clothing back into place and reaches over, grabbing a few tissues from the box that’s knocked over next to her, gently wiping between her legs, and then tossing the tissue in the trash bin.  

Beth looks up at him and laughs as she realizes he’s still wearing the horns, although a bit more lopsided now.  

He grins as he reaches up and takes them off, slipping them onto her head instead, hands sliding through her hair, tugging her head back as he pulls her into another kiss.  

“Diabla...” He murmurs against her lips and Beth thinks she can probably guess what that means.

He pulls away from her, reaching down to grab her underwear and help her slide them back on and then he helps her off the desk to pull her dress back into place.  

“You go first.” She says, still feeling a little wobbly on her legs as she pats at her hair, and swipes at her eye makeup.  

She turns around, surveying the mess scattered across the floor and she’s about to bend down and pick up her witch hat when she feels him behind her as he presses his hand into hers. “See you out there.” He whispers in her ear, lips brushing against her shoulder and then he’s gone and Beth lifts her hand up, unfurling her fingers to look at the slip of photo paper he’d pressed into her palm— the top half of the pictures of them from the photo booth.

[littlekatleaf]

Buried in a burning flame is love and its decisive pain (end)

Holy shitballs. Pretty close to exactly a year ago I got this idea - Junkrat and Roadhog have Christmas with some of the Overwatch crew. It was gonna be short and sweet and fluffy. I started writing in... February? 10 months and 21K words later I ended up with something almost entirely different. Oops? Thanks for joining me on the ride!  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Meds and tea and whiskey and food and mitten and probably a bit of fever still and the lingering feel of Roadie’s hand on his forehead all swirled together into an edgy excitement that made his blood fizz in his veins. Twitchy, itchy. Been looking forward to setting off the fireworks for months - been working them up that long and planning even longer. Had to get it all just right, then combine it with Lucio’s music, get the timing connected to the right shapes, the explosions to the right second… had to be focused, had to be precise and he loved the challenge. The sparks of thrill tingled along his spine and the fire they ignited burned away the lingering crud of sickness leaving him sharp and clear.

He enlisted Hana and Lucio to round up the others, betting they’d be able to convince anyone who was reluctant much better than he would. Even so, he was urging them down to the lake, torches bobbing through the dark, throwing odd shadows between the trees. Maybe talking a little faster than usual but how else was he going to impress upon them how exciting this was? 

“Know it’s cold - hadn’t really thought about that when I was planning. I mean, hadn’t planned to be here at all, just thought we’d be at the Watchpoint. Course, this is better, discounting the cold. Which is hard to do, but Roadie’s getting the bonfire goin’ - he could light a fire in the middle of a monsoon so no worries on that count. An’ Hana brought some whiskey to help so she’ll be right. Ya need to stand here, no closer. Gonna be over the water.  Safe as houses, but can’t be too careful - least according to Morrison, ha! Now turn off the torches. Better the darker it is. Lucky ain’t moonrise yet…” 

“What are we doing out here in the middle of the night when we could be curled up on the couch?” Mei asked no one in particular.

Junkrat ignored her. She’d see, they’d all see and he knew they’d love it just as much as he did if they gave it a chance. Lucio had been kind enough to not only have his sound system set up, but also brought out the box of fireworks so Junkrat didn’t have to lug it himself.

Didn’t take but a minute to set it all up, music on automatic once he started the program. All he had to do was hit the power and light the first fuse.

Music came up slow, soft, bit of piano, then edge of something electronic, rising bass and the first firework streaked up to the center of the sky and as the beat kicked in it exploded in a rain of silver and gold. At the crackling boom the others fell silent, faces tilted to the sky. The sparkles reflected in their eyes and Lucio’s soft ‘oh!’ and Hana’s squeal of delight made even the cold worthwhile. 

Let it start slow. Basic colors, red, blue, green, as well as the gold and silver. Usual shapes, circles, stars, ones that looked like fountains or willows. Then the music shifted, became rhythmic and complex with a minor edge and he sent the first special rockets. The streaks crisscrossed, intersecting like Satya’s hard light shield, like one of her knit shawls and around it burst snowflakes, all in shades of blue and silver. 

Music shifted again, bright and quick - and the second set of his own rockets split the air with a whistling crack then exploded in a crackling red heart, then a gold arrow streamed through. Lena bumped Emily’s hip with her own as their names twined through the heart. Another shift, one of Lucio’s songs, written for Hana and the rockets burst into pink bunnies and green frogs that seemed to bounce up the mountains ringing them and into the stars. 

As the music shifted a final time, setting a beat with a swing, Lena grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into a twirl, hands clenched firm but light, feet moving quick, spinning each other in and out and then they were dancing and so were Hana and Lucio and even Mei tugged Satya into the group. 

And then - perfect timing, as the music sang “Seeing’ stars, I’m seeing stars” the final bursts of fireworks - his favorite of the bunch - exploded overhead and Junkrat couldn’t stop his grin at the stars he’d created. Spread above him and Roadie was their night sky. The Saucepan and the Crux. Looking right, looking perfect, not upside down like here.

For a long moment Roadhog said nothing, just stood with his face tipped up, sparks reflecting in his mask as the fireworks cracked and popped and the music thumped and the others laughed and danced.

“Thought ya might like a bit of Straya,” Junkrat said finally, unable to wait for Roadhog to say something. Anything. Maybe he hadn’t recognized it after all. Or maybe it wasn't anything like he’d hoped. Maybe it only looked like home because he was remembering it so clearly. Imagining it. Making it all up again. He shoved his hand in his pocket as a gust of wind swept over them and a sneeze slammed into him, followed quickly by two more. “Huh-r’isssh! Isshh! Ishhew!” 

Didn’t even hear Roadhog move, but suddenly he was right there, shoving his hat down over Junkrat’s head and then wrapping his scarf around Junkrat’s neck. “Stay warm, idiot.”

“Trying,” he said, shivering still. He let Roadie lead him over to the fire which had grown to a roaring height, pouring out a welcome heat. Pine logs crackled and spat sparks swirling into the sky to swirl with the real stars and their backwards constellations.

Lucio cranked his own mix and the bass echoed off the mountains and Lena and Emily still danced with him and Hana. Mei and Satya huddled together, passing a mug of something between them and for a moment, just for a minute, everything felt fine. Felt good.

Junkrat glanced at Roadhog, and though the mask obscured his expression, there was a looseness in his shoulders, something in the tilt of his head that seemed to speak of relaxation and calm. Made the cold and exhaustion worth it. “Happy Christmas, Roadie.” 

“Happy Christmas, Rat.” The warmth in his tone did more to drive away the chill than the fire and Junkrat leaned against his side, letting himself enjoy the closeness. 

After a bit, the others joined them around the fire and Lena passed a joint around, “For everyone except you, Junkrat. Sorry.” 

He shrugged, pulled a flask out of his pocket. “Not gonna share my plague. Got this anyway.” The whiskey left a warm curl in the center of his belly, his muscles loose and easy. Satya told a story about a Snow Queen whose frozen heart melted with the love of a peasant girl, and though Junkrat wanted to roll his eyes, he understood the feeling. The desire to have one’s own story told in myth - to be connected to something bigger. Lena told a story about Father Christmas. Mei about a Chinese hunter, Jia Deng, who hunted with a pet wolf and left gifts of his hunt with the poor during the cruel months of winter. Then Roadie exhaled a long puff of smoke and said,

“Bet you never heard of the Holiday Boar.”

Junkrat giggled into his scarf. “Ain’t gonna tell that one to this lot, are ya?”

Lena cocked her head quizzically. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well. Long before the Omnium exploded, before the Omnics were even an idea someone had, the Outback was still a hardscrabble place. Dusty and hot and many were desperately poor, trying to eke a living out of land that wasn’t easily giving. One day a wild boar appeared in a village, ribs showing through its skin, hair falling out in patches, it was the most pathetic excuse for a creature the villagers had seen. Most tried to chase it away with kicks and shouts and stones thrown. 

“At the edge of the village there was a farmer. He lived alone on the land. When the boar came to his homestead, the farmer’s first reaction was the same as the others - he wanted to chase it away. Nothing good could come of bringing another mouth to feed into his life. But as he raised a hand to throw a stone, he caught a glimpse of the creature’s eyes and his long dead daughter’s voice spoke in his heart. ‘Papa, please.’ His hand fell and he sighed and the boar stayed.

“In the beginning he found it annoying, an intrusion on his solitude. Still, he fed the creature, sharing the little he had, and in return it kept him company, following him like a dog and seeming to listen when he spoke. Come winter the boar was healthy and grown to a surprising size. Villagers who saw it walking with the farmer nodded knowingly - at the first cold snap he’d likely kill it, and the meat could feed them all.

“But the cold came and still the boar walked with the farmer. The villagers eyed them more than a little oddly. Finally, on the longest night of the year, the farmer was sitting by a fire with the boar at his side as usual. The farmer was lamenting that the land had been even more reticent than usual, and he was likely to lose his home to the mortgagers. 

“The boar’s stomach gave a great rumble, then it leaned forward and puked up a pile of gold coins onto the ground. The farmer never went hungry again and the village prospered.”

Junkrat couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. 

Hana laughed too, shook her head. “There’s no way that’s a thing.”

“It’s Australia,” Roadhog argued, deadpan voice. “It absolutely is.”

Lucio nodded, took a drag from the joint. “I could see it.”

They told stories and Lucio led them in carols and the warmth of the fire and the whiskey and Roadhog at his side and Lena’s jokes “What do you call a dinosaur fart? A blast from the past! Why does a duck have tail feathers? To cover his butt quack!” and Emily’s laughter lulled Junkrat into a doze.

“He snores louder than a boar,” Satya said, irritably. Lena giggled.

“You gave him your scarf,” Hana said to Roadhog and her tone was equal parts teasing and curious.

Junkrat felt Roadie’s shoulders move in a shrug. “Never takes care of himself, even when he’s sick.” But though he was more than half asleep, he could hear the tight coldness of the comment. The relaxed ease had gone. Junkrat wanted to sit up and interrupt, but he was just so tired.

“Gave him your cold too, huh.” Still that sing-song teasing tone, but it cut at Junkrat.

“Maybe.”

“Come on, Roadhog. What’s up with you two, anyway? He won’t give us a straight answer.”

Felt like everyone’s eyes were on them, staring. Junkrat tensed. Sit up, he told himself. Stop this. But he didn’t. He wanted to know what Roadhog would say, even more than he didn’t want to know.

Roadhog’s shoulder moved in another shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep him from offing himself on accident.”

Mei laughed; least no one else did.

Ice through his body, through his stomach, his mind, his lungs. He coughed against it, but it didn’t move. The fire had burned down to little more than embers and even scarf and hat, mitten and whiskey weren’t enough to keep him warm. He forced himself up then, away from Roadhog. Faked a yawn like he just woke up.

“Knackered. Gonna call it a night. Happy Christmas all.” Forced the words past lips that felt frozen and barely heard the others saying goodnight and thanks for the fireworks. 

The moon glowed on the snow, lighting the way back to the cabin enough to keep him from stumbling on tree roots and rocks. His foot crunched softly on pine needles and he heard Roadhog’s louder footfalls behind him. He walked faster. Just wanted to be inside, to be alone, to be warm, to be silent. Even the light of the Christmas tree seemed to mock him with its fake promise of coziness. He’d take a bath, let the water warm his bones, soothe the chills, then sleep. 

“When I said ya ain’t gotta babysit me no more, I meant it,” Junkrat said stiffly as Roadhog followed him into the bathroom. “Promise I ain’t gonna drown in the bath. Even I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

“How’re you going to get in and out?” Roadhog asked bluntly.

Junkrat turned to look and of course there were no bars to let him navigate it himself. Once he took off his prosthetics he’d be screwed. Fuck. He pushed past Roadhog and out of the bathroom. Wasn’t worth it.  

But the bedroom was just as bad. Wanted to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a century or ten, but Roadhog was standing there in the middle of the room taking up all of the space and all of the air and Junkrat knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with his… looming. Instead he shoved the pillows to the head of the cot and sat against the wall, wrapping a blanket around himself. Just barely resisted pulling it over his head, too. Knew Roadie would stare and it was making him jittery. Not in a good way. His head ached again, skin tight with the too hot too cold feeling of returning fever. Should have asked Lucio for more meds. He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing for relief. Wishing for Roadie’s hand on his forehead again, cool and firm and steadying.

“Gonna tell me what’s eating you?” Roadhog asked, finally. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked down at Junkrat from his full height. Not exactly the most inviting posture. 

“What are we?” The question spilled from him like he was vomiting. “An’ don’t give me some stupid shit like you don’t know what I mean. Hana asks and Lucio asks and you avoid the question.”

“Why do we need to put words to it? Why do they need to know anything?” 

Junkrat shrugged. It wasn’t for them that he needed words. It was him. He needed a foundation, an understanding. Because things were slippery and they could slide away from him before he had a chance to catch hold. “It’s me askin’. Now that ya ain’t my bodyguard. What are we?”

A long pause, a silence full of all the things Roadhog didn’t say. 

“Morrison said I could leave,” Junkrat blurted, unable to stand it.

Roadhog waited.

“Said if this do-gooder shit was too bloody difficult he’d have Lena turn me in. Serve my time and then whatever came next was my choice.”

No response.

“Told him I’d have to talk to you about it, but he said just meant me. I been thinkin...’ we should do it. Could probably convince him to let you go too. Then when we were far enough away could hijack the Orca, dump Lena and head back to Straya. Head home. Get the treasure, sell it to the Queen and find a place to just… live.” He blinked and the after-image of fireworks burst across his vision, constellations in all their permutations. Home. Was it? Didn’t really know anymore… But maybe there it wouldn’t be so hard, maybe there it would be like it had been.

Still no response, no movement at all. Like Roadhog’d turned to stone. Mountain. Felt his gaze go cold, measuring, calculating. Had seen Roadhog turn that gaze on others, size them up, find them lacking… but not on himself. He froze. Utterly still. Waited for the judgment to fall. Then Roadhog laughed. Not like something was funny, or maybe like he was funny and the sound was brittle and sharp in his ears.

“What’s so bloody funny, mate?” and his own voice held an edge.

“The idea that I would want to leave this,” he gestured around the room, taking in everything, “give up the good thing I got going here to… what? Live out some tiny shit life in that hellhole with you? Why the fuck do you think I’d want to go back to that? And with you?” He positively roared with laughter. “You are thick as a rock. Batshit crazy. A complete mess. Sure, when there wasn’t anyone else around who wasn’t trying to kill me, you were good for a laugh. A way to get my rocks off. But in the real world? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you too.” The words scraped his throat and he wished he had covered his head because he had that ominous prickling behind his eyes like he was going to fucking cry, or sneeze, and either way he was fucking well not going to give Roadhog the satisfaction.

“You want to know what we are, Junkrat? We ain’t shit. Nothing. Do what you want, stay or go. I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit.”

“Well that’s fuckin’ clear as crystal. Why don’t you fuck off then an’ let me sleep.” He grit his teeth, bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tasted iron. Not going to crumble. Watched as Roadhog turned and crossed the room. Watched the door click shut behind him. Watched the blank wall and refused to let himself crack. Silence then, that he’d wanted. But no warmth. Even wrapped in blankets felt like he was sitting in a snowstorm. Everything muffled and frozen. Freezing.

Then that chuckle in his head. You got an answer. Might not have been the one you wanted, but really Jamison, what did you expect? Did you honestly think he would go back to an irradiated waste land and a criminal life to be with you?

He thumped his head back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his fist so hard his nails bit into his palm. Shut it. Ain’t real.

No? So make me be silent, then. More laughter. Oh Jamison. How do you think someone would want to be with you when your own mother couldn’t stand to be with you? 

You don’t know nothing ‘bout my mum, he told her. Nothing. But a couple tears leaked free, and the tingling prickles made him sneeze and he buried his head in the blankets and let himself go until he fell asleep, her laughter and Roadhog’s laughter still ringing in his head.

Sleep was restless, part of him kept jerking awake thinking he heard the door open. He hadn’t. When he finally woke completely he felt like he’d been hit by the ute, then had it back over him again. He stumbled out to the living room where he found Hana and Lucio playing a game with Emily, and Mei and Satya watching. 

“Morning, Junkrat,” Lucio said.

“More like afternoon,” Hana corrected.

“Potato potahto,” Lucio shrugged. “Wanna join? You can play winner.”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, tried to sound nonchalant. “Where’s Roadie?”

“Apparently Morrison sent him on some mission. Something going on in Australia. Lena took him early this morning,” Satya said. “Guess you didn’t go ‘cause you’re sick?” Hana asked.

“Yeah. Something like that.” His head went light. Hadn’t thought Roadhog would actually leave. Take the treasure for himself and go… but there it was. He made his way into the kitchen on a floor that seemed to rock like a boat. Opened the sat comm with numb fingers. 

“Morrison.” “It’s Fawkes. I’ll take your offer. I want to turn myself in.”