#i wrote this instead of doing the dishes like my dad reminded me a good five times

[specialgrades]

Not really a request but what are your headcanons on the JJK men's dick sizes?

OHOHO cracks knuckles i can do that. going full in like nanami should be in me rn dick-scriptions time

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, sukuna, choso, atsuya kusakabe

GOJO SATORU : a bit above average, a good 6.5 ~ 7in. slight curve upwards. a good 2.5 ~ 3.5in thick. pretty pink flush on the tip, shaft a few shades darker than his skin tone. cut. carpets match the drapes of course, he keeps it trimmed. fun trail tell me i'm wrong (i'm not). super sensitive vein on the underside. sensitive thighs too. grower.

GETO SUGURU : honestly, average cock size. he rounds up to five inches but we all know it's 4 3/4. two inches thick. like gojo, a nice pink flush and a few shades darker. no curve. for sure has a piercing, prince albert probably; silver jewelry. uncut. not a jungle, mildly maintained. sensitive head, especially with the piercing. shower.

NANAMi KENTO : nothing overwhelming, though still impressive. 7.5in long, 3in thick. cut, duel toned because of it. top half is more pink than the rest. short trim. curve to the left. right under the head is the key, he'll bite back a really embarrassing noise if you focus there. grower.

TOJi FUSHiGURO : i pray for y'all toji simps for real, cause fuck. 8.5in easy. 4 inches thick minimum. man built like a tripod. uncut, darker with red undertones. upwards curve. jacob's ladder. three of 'em. this man doesn't shower i'm so sorry. two prominent veins when you pull back the foreskin, sensitive but he'll never show it. shower.

SUKUNA : i pray for y'all as well. find a pringles can. it's bigger. ten inches long, four inches thick. curves upwards and a tad to the right. cut, pale so it gets a nice flush. his tattoos make an appearance, wrapping around the shaft a few times. grower thank god.

CHOSO : average length, 5.5in but thick. four inches. curve to the right, uncut. darker than his skin tone by around four shades. not super trimmed, a delicious fun trail leading to a mild bush. mildly sensitive head, though go for his navel and you'll get a lovely show of him getting all breathy and twitching. shower.

ATSUYA KUSAKABE : i've only just met this man but i want him. carnally. so... six inches in length and 2.5 in width. cut, duel toned though you can't really tell until he's flushed and the top half goes a pretty dark pink. like choso, tasteful amount of hair with the fun trail. one prominent vein that's sensitive, under the head too. grower.

[delacyrose224]

A Sky Full of Stars

-Pairing: Dad!Jin x Mom!Reader

-Premise: Your daughter asks for a bedtime story, and Jin tells the story of how the two of you met...as a fairy tale.

-Genre: This is just straight up domestic fluff, y'all. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

-Word Count: 2.2k

-Warnings/tags: SFW, tooth-rotting fluff, reader is pregnant

-Author's Note: This is based on A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay...this type of domestic fluff is not usually my thing, but @hyungieyoongi is an enabler and too many ideas took hold that I needed to get out of my brain. Who even am I, writing a dad fic? Hope you enjoy!

“Lemonade, it’s time for bed!” Jin singsongs down the hallway. You smile to yourself in the kitchen as you hear the pitter-patter of tiny socked feet echo across the living room. You turn to see your five year old daughter, hiding behind the curtains, her toes peeking out and wiggling in excitement as she hears her dad coming down the hallway behind her.

“Now where can my daughter have gotten off to?” Jin stands in the middle of the living room, seemingly perplexed. He begins to look behind furniture, lifting couch cushions to call into the dust and crumbs that have fallen by the wayside, as if the five year old would suddenly appear. You hear her giggles again when he opens the coat closet.

Jin turns to you instead of towards the noise. “Excuse me, pretty lady...have you seen a small girl about this high-”, he motions just above his knee, “-dark brown hair, answers to the name of Lemonade?” He grins at you, just as the girl in question bursts out from hiding, flinging her arms around her dad’s knees in a giant hug. He quickly scoops her up in his arms amongst a flurry of giggles from both you and her.

“Daddy, that’s not my name!” She laughs, smacking Jin’s chest with her small hand.

“What’s not your name?” He responds, pretending to be clueless.

“Lemonade...it’s Adelaide, Daddy.” She rolls her eyes at him.

Jin chuckles. “Well, you could’ve fooled me...I thought you were named Lemonade because you’re so sweet.” He smacks his lips against her cheek in a wet kiss and puts her back down on the ground.

“Can you tell me a story before bed, please?” She tugs on the hem of his shirt as politely as she can manage, though you can tell by the look in her eyes she’s desperate for your husband to say yes.

“Since you asked so nicely, I’d be happy to...Adelaide.” She grins widely and runs off to go brush her teeth and change into her pjs.

As she leaves the room, you turn back to the dishes you were cleaning from dinner. It’s not long before you feel Jin’s hands on your waist as he peers over you at the dishes you’re working on, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hi, you.” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down your sides.

“Hi yourself, handsome.” You smile as you twist your head to give him a peck on the cheek.

“You need any help? I’m sure you’ve been on your feet all day...I’m happy to give you a massage later after Lemonade goes to bed.”

You let out a small laugh at his nickname for your daughter.

“I would love that...but when are you gonna stop calling Adelaide that?” You shake your head.

“Oh, never...it’s too funny, and you know she secretly loves it. You do too, I think.” You look up to see him smirking at you.

“You know, whenever we have another kid, I’m going to give it the weirdest nickname ever, no matter what you name them!” You threaten, turning around to face him once you set the last cup out to dry. Jin raises an eyebrow at you.

“...whenever? I think it’s a little too late for that one, love.” You can see a mix of mirth and warmth in his eyes as his hands slide from your waist over your stomach, which in the last week or so has started to show signs of a bump, much earlier than in your pregnancy with Adelaide.

“You know what I mean, Seokjin!” You glare at him, even as you bring your hands over his.

“You can call them Tteokbokki for all I care, I still get to name them. Both, if my hunch is right and you’re having twins,” he caresses your stomach as he leans forward and kisses your forehead softly.

Before you can reply, Adelaide is shouting for Jin from her bedroom, impatiently awaiting her bedtime story.

“You coming to storytime, Mama?” He asks, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

“I’ll be there in a minute, just let me go change into something more comfy,” you reply, heading for your bedroom as Jin smiles as your retreating figure.

After throwing on a pair of sleep shorts with a ratty old hoodie of Jin’s, you head over to Adelaide’s room, where Jin is on his tippy toes, retrieving a book of fairy tales from the top shelf of Adelaide’s bookcase.

“Not that one, Daddy...you’ve read those like a hundred times!” She exasperatedly proclaims, arms crossed.

“Okay-”, he goes on tiptoe again to place the book back on the shelf, “-what kind of story do you want to hear, then?”

“A new one, that’s all!” She smiles as Jin sits down on the bed with her, burrowing under his arm for warmth.

“Hmm...okay, I think I have one you’ll like.” He smiles sideways over at you in the armchair across the room. Where he’s going with this, you’re not sure.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom not too far from here, there was a beautiful princess. Her parents, the king and queen, wanted to make sure that she was married to a prince that was worthy of her. For you see, not only was she the most beautiful in the land, she was also very smart, and very funny. Not just any prince would do for her.” He looks over at you and smiles fondly. You smile in return, realizing he’s telling your daughter your story-how the two of you ended up together, thinly disguised as a fairy tale.

“One day, a prince from a faraway land arrived on a visit. The king and queen thought he would be an excellent match for their daughter, and so they arranged a meeting between the two of them. The princess got along with the prince, and they became friends quickly. The prince also introduced the princess to his court jester, who traveled alongside him for entertainment. The three soon became inseparable.” Your smile grows bigger the more the story goes on...you realize that the prince is Jungkook, and the jester is your husband.

“However, the princess didn’t show any interest in the prince other than friendship-”

“I think you forgot a part of the story, babe,” you interrupt before he can get much further. Adelaide looks across the room at you in wonder.

“What did he forget, Mama?” she whispers, clearly enthralled with the story. Jin raises his eyebrow at you, interested in what you have to say.

“The prince did ask the princess to go on a date with him, and it was very romantic,” you start. Jin’s eyes go wide, this information new to him. “He prepared a picnic for the two of them, and they went on a stroll through the neighboring town. The prince told the princess of all his foreign travels, and they talked for hours. When the night grew dark, he walked her home and kissed her goodnight.” Jin makes an indignant sound, quickly covering it up with a cough.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Adelaide’s little hand pats his back as he continues to choke.

“I’m...fine, fine. Where was I in the story? Oh, yes. After this date-”, he makes pointed eye contact with you, letting you know he will be asking about details later, “-the prince was called to go on an important trip far away from the princess. The court jester had to go too, to make sure the prince never became too sad while he was away. The princess was sad that they had to leave, but they promised to come see her when they returned and said they would exchange letters while they were gone.”

“Did they come back? What happened?” Adelaide pipes up, wanting to know what happened next. You begin to speak again, picking up the story from Jin.

“The three kept their promises to each other. They all wrote to each other while they were separated, but a funny thing started to happen...the princess started to realize that she missed the court jester more than the prince. She missed the way he would make her laugh, how he would make fun of her for small, goofy things, and she missed his smile when she managed to make him laugh.”

Jin lets out a breathy laugh at this, the sound sending serotonin through you, and you can’t stop the smile that takes up what feels like your entire face.

“The jester felt the same way. He missed the princess’s laugh, her wit, her...everything.” Jin looks at you with such fondness, your face starts to heat and you have to look away.

“So what happened?! What about the prince?” Your daughter demands, and Jin pulls her in closer.

“When the two returned from their trip, the jester shared with the prince his feelings for the princess. The prince understood, and had begun to notice the jester’s feelings himself. He gave the two his blessing, and the jester and the princess shared their feelings with each other and kissed. They eventually got married, and they lived happily ever after.”

Jin smiles down at his daughter. “How’s that for a bedtime story?” She grins sleepily up at him.

“That was good, Daddy...the princess reminded me of Mama.” Jin leans down to press a kiss to Adelaide’s forehead as he tucks her in.

“Well, your Mama has always been a princess to me,” he smiles over at you as he straightens up and takes your hand as the two of you walk towards the door.

“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy.” Adelaide calls softly from her bed.

“Night, Adelaide.” “Night, Lemonade.”

As you pull the door closed gently, Jin pulls out his phone and begins to FaceTime Jungkook.

“Jin, what-” Before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook appears on the screen.

“Jin hyung, Noona, hi! What’s up?” Jungkook smiles brightly through the screen.

“Did you, or did you not, take my wife out on a date and kiss her?!” Jin whisper yells through the phone, careful not to disturb your daughter.

Jungkook’s face scrunches in confusion. “What? Hyung, she’s your wife, that doesn’t even make sense-”

“Before we started dating, did you take her on a date and kiss her?!” Jin repeats.

Realization dawns on Jungkook’s face, and he starts to laugh. You can’t help it, you join in as well.

“Yeah, we did. It was a nice date, if I remember right, Noona? I made us a picnic and we talked a lot. And yeah, I did kiss her.” Jungkook smirks at the memory.

“And you just neglected to tell me this, all these years? What am I to you, nothing?” Jin is incredulous at Jungkook’s nonchalance.

“It wasn’t that important, hyung. It became very apparent soon after that that she was swooning over you, not me. Can’t see why with all the dad jokes, but to each their own. Speaking of dad jokes, how’s Addie doing?”

You chime in before Jin has a chance to respond. “You can see for yourself, I’m sure she’d be happy to see Uncle Kookie for a sec.” You push Adelaide’s door open again, calling her name softly to see if she’s still awake.

“Yeah, Mama? What is it?” She sits up in bed slowly as you turn on the lamp on her bedside table.

“Someone wants to say hi to you,” you smile as you turn Jin’s phone around to face her.

Adelaide’s face breaks out in a smile when she sees Jungkook, as well as her cheeks turning slightly pink. You’re pretty sure that she might have a tiny little crush on her Uncle Kookie...and who could blame her? You used to think he was cute too, once upon a time-before a certain jester stole your heart.

Speaking of the jester, he has sat himself down in the armchair across the room, a slight pout on his face. As Adelaide hangs up the call with Jungkook, he speaks.

“Aigoo, what have I done to deserve this? The women in my life all love Uncle Kookie more than they love me,” his pout becomes more prominent as he talks.

“No, Daddy!” Adelaide pipes up from the bed. “It’s like in that song you always sing to me and Mama about all the stars...Uncle Kookie’s great, but in all the stars, we see you.”

You both look over at your daughter, recognizing the song she’s referring to as A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. Jin had begun absentmindedly singing that to her as a baby as a sort of lullaby, and it had stuck. He now sang it almost every day to the two of you in some form or fashion.

“We see you. Forever.” Your daughter adds emphasis, trying to convey how much she loves her father.

Jin walks over to her, the partial darkness hiding the mistiness in his eyes from Adelaide.

“And I see you forever, Lemonade. I love you so much, and your Mama so much, never forget that. Ever.” She laughs and nods in agreement, before burrowing down in her covers again.

You turn off her lamp, and the two of you walk out to the hallway, closing your daughter’s door for the second time that night. You turn to your husband.

“You know, we do see you forever. Me, Lemonade, and Tteokbokki.” You laugh while gazing into his eyes, placing his hands on your bump again.

He leans forward to place a gentle yet firm kiss on your mouth.

“I know.”

-----------------------------------

Taglist: @alpacaparkaseok @hyungieyoongi @derinxfam

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[maria-scribbles]

cocoa

sick of hearing his parents fight day after day, reggie goes to the one person who knows exactly what he's going through: the pretty violinist who lives next door.

fandom: julie and the phantoms

ship: alive!reggie x reader

word count: 1.5k+

featuring: swearing (as always), fighting, allusion to an abusive relationship, general sadness, mention of a family member’s death

a/n: day 2 of my holiday challenge: hot chocolate! this is kind of depressing and i'm sorry, sad!reggie was stuck in my head and he wouldn't leave until i wrote this but it has kind of a hopeful ending tho so i guess that counts for something? this is also my first time writing for this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. as usual, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1994

They were fighting again. It was the same old story: his dad being an ass on purpose, his mom taking the bait, wash, rinse, repeat. Their shouts rang harshly throughout the house, gloomy and miserable despite the cheerful decorations strung up in every room and the massive Christmas tree downstairs, dressed in its festive best and looking like it came straight out of a seasonal catalog.

Reggie had gone to them at the beginning of the month, begging them not to fight, please; his everyday life was already ruined by their screaming matches and the only thing he wanted for Christmas was some peace, quiet and civility to celebrate his favorite holiday. His father had pretended not to hear his son's pleas, ignoring him completely like he always did while his mother offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We'll try, honey." She'd said and he knew it was a lie. His mother always lied, his father always threw a plate at her head, Reggie always wished he had the courage to run away for good, like Luke did. But he wasn't Luke, he never would be, and he just didn't have it in him to leave them, even though he was the one who came out worse for wear after each fight.

The distant shatter of ceramic drifting up the stairs was his cue to go until things cooled down again -he never stuck around after the first dish got thrown, not anymore, the scar on his arm the perfect reminder why- and so he jimmied open the window of his room and climbed down the trellis into the salty air, the crashing waves of the Pacific covering his escape like a blanket.

(He could've stormed down the stairs and slammed the door behind him and his parents still wouldn't have noticed he left but something about sneaking out and risking a broken bone made him feel alive, the same rush he felt when he was on stage, bass humming in his hands, performing alongside his bandmates and knowing they felt it, too.)

Even outside, the echoes of his parents' angry voices still rang in his ears, haunting him all the way to the house next door, its sparkling lights shining brightly and guiding him through the darkening night like a beacon. The driveway sat empty, sans for one lone bicycle haphazardly lying on its side in front of the garage and he carefully propped it up on its kickstand before climbing the stairs to the front porch.

The faint sound of a slow, somber violin came to a stop as he knocked on the door, followed by a quiet, familiar voice Reggie knew like the back of his hand.

"It's open."

He found Y/N alone on the couch, eyes downcast and fingers fiddling with the strings of the violin on her lap and she glanced up at the tap of his boots on the hardwood floor, face brightening the slightest bit at the sight of her friend rounding the corner into the living room. 

The girl didn't speak as she gently placed the instrument aside and stood, meeting him halfway and throwing her arms around his neck to draw him into a crushing hug. His own arms wrapped around her waist and held her just as tightly, his head resting on her shoulder, and the warm vanilla scent of her soft hair tickling his nose helped calm the storm in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Reg." Her voice was low and soothing in his ear and he didn't know how he could possibly hold her any tighter than he already was but he managed as he replied, "I'm sorry, too."

While his parents fought like wildfire, explosive and loud and raging with the wrong type of passion, hers were like a deep freeze, icy and cold and desolate in the worst possible way. Too many times Y/N was left to her own devices, all alone in an empty house with her thoughts and a violin her only company (at least they had given her that, the gift of music and a beautiful, expensive instrument to prove their love was real, albeit superficial).

It was some time later before she pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and brushed a wayward strand of his dark hair back from his forehead with one calloused finger. "Okay, pity party's over. It's almost Christmas and we're not spending it being sad about shitty parents. Deal?"

She held out her pinky with one eyebrow raised expectantly and grinned when he nodded and hooked his pinky around hers. Reggie loved really liked that about her, the way she could just make all the heartache and pain and disappointment vanish from his mind like magic and replace them with thoughts of her and her sunny smile, her big heart, her touch that made the very blood in his veins spark like lightning. Y/N was his bright spot, his safe haven, and while Luke, Alex, and Bobby knew what he was going through, they just didn't understand like she did (they had their own problems to deal with, anyway, so he couldn't blame them).

"Good, now come on," She wrapped the rest of her fingers around his hand and started tugging him down the hall to the kitchen. "You're helping me make hot chocolate."

"Peppermint?" He asked, smiling when she glanced up at him with an offended look on her face.

"Duh. Only a heathen would make it without peppermint, Reginald."

Another thing he liked about her: she never did anything halfway; half-assing things, taking the easy way out, cutting corners just wasn't her style. It even applied to hot chocolate apparently, as he watched her flutter around the kitchen with practiced ease -heating milk and cream on the stove, measuring sugar and chocolate, slowly adding drops of peppermint oil- and despite her saying he was going to help, the only thing he got to do was crush some candy canes. Not that he minded, though, because while his hands could play bass like no one's business, they were a total disaster when it came to cooking and he knew Y/N was well aware of that fact, considering it took a week for the burnt popcorn smell to fade from her microwave the last time he tried. 

The violinist smiled and proudly handed him the finished drink, whipped cream piled high and candy cane bits almost overflowing from the edge of a red mug. "This is my grandma's recipe," She said, one hand holding a purple mug for herself and the other reaching to grab onto his wrist and pull him out the front door. "She'd always make it when she came to visit for the holidays and we'd sit out on the porch and watch the ocean, each and every year." 

"She was the best," Reggie said as the two sat together on the porch swing, his right side flush against her left. "I still have dreams about her cookies and wake up drooling."

The cool ocean breeze ruffled Y/N's hair and carried her laugh off down the beach. "She loved you, you know that? She was always talking about 'that nice boy next door.' Pretty sure she wanted us to get married."

"I loved her, too." He took a sip of his drink in an attempt to hide the blush that was taking over his entire face. "And we still have time for the whole marriage thing."

"I'm still waiting for my ring." She laughed again before looking down at the mug in her hands, voice becoming quiet as she replied, "I really miss her. She was the only person in my family who actually cared about me 'cause my parents sure as hell don't."

He wanted to tell her she was wrong but he knew it'd be a lie and he never did that, refusing to become a pathological liar like his mother, so instead he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. "Hey, no more talk about shitty parents, remember?"

"Sorry, I know," She took a long sip of her cocoa, then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I just feel alone sometimes when you're not around. I mean, you have your band and I always had my grandma to talk to but now she's gone and I'm kind of...lost."

"You have the band, too, Y/N! Alex and Luke love you and Bobby, well, he's Bobby. No one really knows what goes on in that guy's head but I know he thinks you're cool. We all do, especially me, and you should know you're never alone 'cause you'll always have us."

The girl abruptly sat up and grabbed the mug from Reggie's hand before he could blink and placed it alongside her own on the floor, then threw her arms around his neck in another one of her fierce hugs.

"Has anyone told you how fucking amazing you are?" 

"You just did." He buried his blushing face in her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist once again. "I'm serious, Y/N. You'll always have me."

"And you'll always have me, Reg. No matter what."

And as they sat there on the porch swing, wrapped in each other's arms, Reggie knew as long as he had Y/N in his life, things were gonna be okay.

[boysandgirlsandbabes]

for the ask meme: 7 and 10 ✨

(from this ask meme)

7. what books have shaped the way you think about writing the most? why?

kind of a sidestep answer (to hide the fact that i haven’t read a book for [redacted]), but i actually think theater as a medium has influenced my writing a lot! i’ve always been really interested in playwriting because i used to love writing dialogue and HATE having to write any character/setting description or action, but i think designing/directing shows in college forced me to be a lot more intentional about how an actor or a character’s blocking and movement during a scene does so much heavy emotional lifting, and made it a lot easier/more fun for me to try and incorporate more physicality into my writing (if u ever read a scene i wrote where two characters are having a conversation and one gets up to wash dishes, and the way they wash dishes mirrors the tone of the conversation, u can thank the first director i ever stage managed for, who was allergic to having characters stand still for more than two lines of dialogue if they could be doing something thematically resonant instead). 

more broadly, i also think plays do a better job than a lot of fictional media of just, like, refusing to answer questions that they raise? (something like wolf play by hansol jung (which is like, almost bar none, my favorite play of all time) come to mind - they feel less like the playwright is trying to send you a message, and more like they’re documenting field notes on human behavior, and handing them over to you to draw whatever conclusions you want from them.) i feel a really strong compulsion when i write to tie things up very neatly (not necessarily happily, but to account for all the loose ends and make sure that all the lingering questions are answered), and i think theater is a good reminder to not just accept the easy, straightforward answer, but to let stories and people be more complex and messy and unfinished than my instincts want to allow them to be.

(putting the second answer under a cut for brief mentions of suicide)

10. which patterns keep popping up in your projects/characters?

LMAO which patterns don’t??? i am nothing if not a one trick pony 🤪

(but actually though lol: i think a lot of the fic that i write (both in and outside of hockey fandom) is about recovery – what happens when the worst thing u can imagine ever happening to u happens, and then...you wake up the next morning and the world hasn’t ended or anything? everything just keeps going? and u just have to, like, keep living thru it, i guess? that makes it sound very dramatic lmao but as someone whose number one coping mechanism for the past decade has been “well if [X] goes really badly and i fuck up my entire life i’ll just kill myself!” it is honestly like...a useful mental exercise for me to put characters in a situation where the worst case scenario does happen to them, and then be like: okay. what happens next? how do you survive this? and like, sometimes the worst case scenario is like, “i have a chronic illness and it isn’t gonna go away,” and sometimes it’s “this thing that i used to love no longer makes me happy and i don’t know where to find things that will make me happy again,” and sometimes it’s “my hometown burned to the ground and i watched my dad kill a man in front of me,” and sometimes it’s “i told my boyfriend i wanted to slap him in the face and he laughed at me.” the last one is mostly facetious but the point is like! it’s about proving to yourself that there is always a way out, and it’s worth it to try and find that way out, even if the road getting there is hard and long and scary.)

in terms of less serious things lol – you might be in a cloudsandpassingevents fic if: 

you spend a lot of time thinking about your body, or what you’ve been taught your body can and can’t do or is/isn’t good for, or how much control you do or do not have over your body, or The Body™, in general

you cannot verbally express care for another person to save your LIFE so you’re relegated to constantly using acts of service

you keep doing things “after a second” 

there are weirdly detailed descriptions of your phone use

you have a sappy thought about another character and then immediately have to do or say something incredibly blunt to get rid of the feelings cooties

you commit a food crime and/or are forced to wash dishes at some point as a metaphor for your internal emotional state

you are named nick

[hildagirl99]

I will follow you

(part 4)

In the evening, Marilyn would wait in front of her store, hoping that Jimmy would come and get her. She was dressed in her most beautiful yellow dress with white lace.

"Marilyn?" Call a voice.

"Jimmy! Is that you?"

"No it's me, my daughter." Replies the voice of Bill, his father.

"Oh oops, sorry, I…"

"But who is this Jimmy?" He asks.

"He's a friend…" Marilyn answers in a weak voice.

"Pfff hehe, look how you are dressed, I know that when you put on your yellow dress it's a very special occasion, a date? I know the girls, believe in my experience." Bill said with a sneer.

"Dad… please…"

"Ooh alright, I'm going to leave you, I wanted to give you a little good night, then I could enjoy my daughters for tomorrow!" He said walking away.

Marilyn catches her breath when she sees Jimmy in the distance.

"Oh I knew you would come!" She said running towards him.

"Obviously, why won't I come?" Jimmy asks.

"If I'm a little… weird or…"

"No! You…" he wrote to himself.

"Mmh?"

"You are not weird, you are a great girl." He said smiling.

"Oh you're saying too much, hehe. Shall we go?"

Along the way, she looked at Jimmy's outfit, he was not wearing a dedicated "correct" outfit for a romantic evening.

"Yep, let's go."

"Maybe he could have dressed better… but that's okay, he might have his reasons, it's just a date." thinks Marilyn.

Once back in the Saloon, they took their places in a secluded corner, thanks to Barbara.

"It's cool here. We can get along. Hehe." Said Jimmy.

"It's my favorite place, we are out of sight, it is often a space reserved for lovers." Chuckles Marilyn.

Jimmy couldn't help but laugh with her, he had never had this urge before. Each of her laughs made him fall more and more in love with her.

"So? Do the lovebirds want to eat?" Barbara said sharply as if she had appeared under the table.

"Lovebirds?" Jimmy asks, he doesn't understand the meaning of that word.

"No, we came to sunbathe." Laughs Marilyn.

"Pfff I'm going to put you a spicy lasagna that will calm you down." Barbara growls.

"Haha! Just a normal lasagna with salad and water."

"Noted! How about you?" Barbara asks Jimmy.

"Uh… do you have any bread?" He asks.

"Uh…" The two sisters look at each other, embarrassed.

"Uh yes but… Don't you want a hearty meal? You have the right to take what you want!" Said Marilyn.

"Here, look on the map. Take what you want."

"Burger fries?" Jimmy had never eaten this, for once he could eat his fill.

"I'll take this." He replies.

"It's working, I'm coming back. With a glass of water." Said Barbara leaving for the kitchen.

"Why did you say you wanted bread?" Marilyn asks, curious.

"Uh… I… I don't know. I'm not used to eating in restaurants." Jimmy answers.

"Oh why ?"

"I don't like crowds."

"But yet, when you play in nightclubs, you have to see crowds."

"Yes, maybe, but that's my nature. But I'd rather be with you." He said to change the subject.

"Oh Jimmy, me too." She said blushing.

"You can call me Jim."

They hadn't noticed that their hands were on top of each other.

"Your dishes are served!" Barbara writes while serving their meal.

"Oh thank you, let's eat before it's cold, hehe."

Half an hour later, while waiting for their dessert, Marilyn wonders about Jimmy's family.

"I was wondering… I talked about my family, but… you didn't tell me yours! How are they?" She asks.

Jimmy didn't expect this. He looks down, scratching his head.

"Well… I… it's a little difficult."

"Oh… are you… alone?"

"No, no. My family is not good company. I live with my sister and my father."

"And your mother ?"

Jimmy was silent for a moment, talking about his mother was forbidden, that's what his father said.

"She… she died when she gave birth to us." He replies.

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"You had nothing to do with it, don't apologize."

But in the next second he started to cry. Marilyn looks at him, empathizing, she puts her hand on his.

"I know it's hard… sorry to remind you of this hard ordeal."

"My dad says it's my fault…"

"What? But what a monster! Uh… I mean… he's your dad, I don't understand why he's telling you that?"

"I never had the feeling that my father loved me, he prefers my sister. Sometimes I seriously think about leaving, but I depend on them, I want to go far, to go around America, to become a famous musician. "

"I understand why you are very reserved, but loneliness is never good, know that I am here, if you have any problem, my family and I, we will be there to welcome you." Said Marilyn.

"Really? But I… I don't want to burden you."

"Shhh… you will never disturb us." She said whispering.

"What would I do if I hadn't met you… you're the only friend I have," he said smiling, wiping away his tears.

"Friend… yes. Do you want to go out? I know a good place."

"Why not." Said Jimmy getting up.

After paying, they exit the Saloon and head out of town.

"Sit here, the moon is so beautiful tonight." Said Marilyn settling down on a flat stone.

He joins her and sticks to her. She lets out a little moan.

"Oh sorry… did I run over you?"

"Pfff hehe, not at all." She said blushing.

Slowly, she rests her head against his shoulder.

"Could you play me a little piece of your banjo?" She asks.

"Really? No worries. I'm warning you, she's not overly tuned." He responds by grabbing his banjo.

"Whatever, I want to listen."

Jimmy snaps into place and places his fingers on the ropes. A soft sound came from it as if the wind was brushing the strings. Marilyn was in heaven.

"I Love it, it's a shame your family doesn't see your potential, you deserve so many good things."

"It's so nice to tell me that."

"It's only the truth, Jim."

After finishing his piece, he notices that Marilyn is dozing on his shoulder, which made him smile. Slowly, he gets up, trying not to rush her.

"Are you leaving already?" Marilyn whispers.

"Yes, sorry if I woke you up."

"It's okay, I'll go home too."

"Let me take you home."

He walks her back to her house. Once in front of the door, she turns around.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Jim."

"Thanks to you too, if I hadn't come I would be at home, drowning in my scores."

Marilyn smiles tenderly at him and takes him in her arms. Jimmy remains stuck in place, red as a tomato. He did not know this gesture which seemed new to him. Marilyn steps back, touching her hair.

"Hope to see you again soon for better times like this."

"I'll only think of you to get them." Jimmy said shyly.

Abruptly, she places a kiss on his cheek. Jimmy gasps.

"Huh? What…"

"Oh sorry I… I don't know what got into me, thanks again for tonight… ahhhh !!" Marilyn writes as she quickly enters the house.

Jimmy remains stuck in place, not understanding what happened to him.

"Already back sweetie?" Penny asks.

"Oooh it's a shame !! I kissed him!" Writes Marilyn, completely hysterical.

"Kissed who? Your date?"

"Ooh let me die in shame!" Said Marilyn running to her room.

"Hehe, that reminds me of someone…" Lorelei sneers, looking at Penny.

"Oh no… I wasn't that… hysterical after kissing you." Penny sulks, blushing too.

"Hehe, but you were making so many movies in your head. Just for a kiss."

In the twin room, meanwhile:

"Get out of under your quilt… how did it end?" Barbara asks, shaking her.

"Leave me! I'm the queen of idiots!"

"Did you kiss him? On the mouth?"

"No… on the cheek…"

"Did he kiss you back?"

"No… that was awkward of me." Marilyn answers, taking her head out of the blanket.

"Roooh just for that… as long as you had a good time together. Tell me what you did after dinner instead."

Marilyn sits on the edge of her bed and looks at the ceiling.

"We talked, he played me a piece of his banjo, we looked at the moon."

"Exciting. There are better dates but it's original, you are definitely his first date with a girl." Barbara said, smirking.

"No but! I won't let you… I liked it a lot. But now how am I going to do if I see him again?"

"You do as usual. And to let him to kiss you, it's up to him."

"Ahhhhh… I love him." Said Marilyn lying down on the bed.

Outside, Jimmy kept touching his cheek, the feeling of the kiss was completely new and pleasant to him. What did this mean?

To be continued...

Part 3 :

[hydrangeasimagination]

Bentō

Pairing: Platonic! Big Bro Bakugo & Younger Sib! Reader

Summary: Katsuki is started to make an extra lunch, something of which his mother takes notice. She’s at first elated when she thinks that he’s finally found someone he likes. But later finds out that’s not the case at all as you appear before one night

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of Physical Abuse. 

A/N:  Based on all the familial Dad Might Family Unit asks. Still trying to fix writing, still feel bad about it. Just have this platonic stuff for now, I got some other parts too… I’ve been feeling all sorts of bad so I wrote this out. I hope this is okay? IDK, I’m dyin’ Scoobs - just trying to get back into the groove. I’m not the best at writing sensitive subject matters so, I think this is my kind of start into delving into it?? Feel free to give me feedback, I want to portray everything as accurately as I can.

Under the cut for space and because of the warnings

[Part 2]

The sight of a bento wrapped in a pastel furoshiki caught Mitsuki’s sight early Monday morning as she started to pack up for work. The pretty fabric was clearly new as she didn’t remember ever having one like it. With the clouds that decorated it, making the blue look like cotton candy. It was set beside her son’s usual red, the stark difference making her wonder where it had come from.

It was pretty, there was no question.

Just out of place on the dark marble of the kitchen counter, out of place tucked into the arms of her son.

She had a half a mind to go and interrogate Katsuki, having seen him make quite a bit of food for lunch the night before. But he grabbed his things and left before she could say anything, the delicately made bento wrapped in pastels came with him.

Mitsuki was curious, but saved it into the back of her head.

That was Monday.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday followed the same pattern.

The same pretty furoshiki was used again and again, wrapping up the extra lunch he continued to make. The food items varied, changing and differing from his own and making it clear that he was adapting to cooking for someone else’s tastes.

Many of the options were meant to fill and satisfy, full of what seemed to be proteins and vitamins. The dedication he had to making the second lunch was admirable.

She was sure at this point he had some type of crush. That he’s met someone that’s finally caught his attention.

Especially when she noticed that the manner in how he packed up the food was way too uncharacteristic of him. Packing onigiri into shapes, frying sausages into octopi, even the vegetables were cut into flowers.

Her son was pining, Mitsuki was sure of it.

So when he came home on Friday night, she was dying to finally worm the secrets from him. Eyes trained on the door, she watched as the water on the stove boiled in the background. The droning of the TV show Masaru was watching distinctly heard over the sound of the lock clicking.

The door swung open and Mitsuki felt her voice stop in her throat when she took notice that he wasn’t alone.

Your fingers were curled into the edge of his blazer, remaining behind him as you hid your face from view. She watched with baited breath as his hand drifted back to grasp at your’s, holding it with such care she hadn’t ever seen him display towards anyone else.

He kicked the door shut and turned to you, still shielding your face from her line of sight and quietly said something to you. Something unheard over her own speeding heartbeat.

Wordlessly, you toed off your shoes and he led you into the living room.

His voice seemed uncaring but Mitsuki knew much better, his eyes betrayed him as he spoke, “Is it alright if… My friend stays the night?”

Mitsuki nearly choked.

He was asking if you could stay over, before he even introduced you to them.

On top of referring to you as a friend?

Masaru was equally shocked, if not concerned. You weren’t even looking at them, hiding behind him the way you were. Whether it be because you were scared or shy, they couldn’t tell.

“Is it alright with —”

Katsuki seemed to tense, baring his teeth.

Shoulders squared as he practically barked, cutting his father off completely, “Why the hell would I ask if it wasn’t?!”

The fierceness he displayed wasn’t at all surprising, as losing his temper quickly was something they were used to. But with one look at you, shaking like a leaf behind their hotheaded son; dread filled them both.

He noticed too, only holding your hand tighter and giving another scoff, “We’re goin’ to my room.”

Carmine clashed with a matching pair before he dragged you away, leaving two parents staring at your retreating forms before they disappeared up the stairs. Mitsuki met her husband’s gaze, who peered back at her with concern.

“There’s something wrong.” Masaru said quietly, as if he spoke too loud you both could hear him.

She slowly nodded in agreement, a pit forming in her stomach. Pushing her hair back, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

Mitsuki was doubly worried as Katsuki had only come down three times over the rest of the night. The first was to ask her where the extra blanket was, the second to bring plates of food up the stairs, and the last was to bring the dishes down to be washed.

Only a gruff thanks for the food was given through his trips up and down the stairs. He was uncharacteristically quiet, barely meeting their gazes throughout the duration of his time on the first floor.

At last, he came down once more, dressed for bed.

She stopped him before he had the chance to leave the kitchen, frowning deeply as she asked, “Alright, brat, what the hell is going on?”

Katsuki was silent, gripping at the glass of water he had gotten. He refused to meet her gaze for the longest time, his jaw tightening as he was clearly trying to find the words to say. To explain his behavior, to explain why that you were here.

Her heart squeezed at the unsure look on his face and her eyes softened, the tight frown loosening. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah.” He muttered, flickering his gaze to the glass with contemplation. “But… Right now, it s'not my place to say anything.”

Confusion was all she felt for that moment, tightly pursing her lips together at the sight of his rather grim expression.

Mitsuki didn’t know how to feel.

Many emotions flooded her at once.

Concern.

Guilt.

Fear.

What the hell was going on?

But only when she noticed that he seemed distracted by something behind her, did she turn her head.

Her chest felt tight, breath no longer being able to draw into her lungs. Her mouth dropping open at the sight of you, the first good look at you.

Oh, god.

You were pretty, there was no question about that.

Just out of place, the bruising that bloomed from your left eye made it clear why you hid.

Seeing your collarbones prominently over the collar of the shirt he allowed you to borrow, the realization struck her made her skin crawl.

A cold chill turning her blood to ice as she noticed the scars that wrapped around your arms like spider webs.

Katsuki breathed your name, voice full of something akin to anxiety.

“It’s okay Katsu.”

She nearly choked yet again at the affectionate pet name but found she couldn’t make a sound

Your eyes met her’s and she felt every inch of her body seize. They were glassy, tired, almost hollow as you peered at her. There was so much pain, complete exhaustion painted your face and twisting the innocence into something terrible.

Her stomach was drawn up in knots.

“You sure?”

Mitsuki didn’t even notice that Katsuki was already at your side until he spoke, his shoulders tensed.

Slowly nodding, you turned to her. Making the ache in her heart return at the deep pain in your soft eyes.

“My parents aren’t good people.” The melodic of your voice too sweet, too pure, for the words falling from your lips. “So he wanted me to be here instead of being…”

Trailing off and gripping at her son’s hand, you looked so tired.

As if you wanted to fall asleep and never get back up again.

A tightness welled in her throat, the sudden urge to cry came as you lifted your scarred fingers to touch the bruise. It marred you like a reminder, a reminder that not all children are blessed with good parents.

“Here.” Katsuki pressed the glass into your hands, touch so light as if he was scared he was going to break you.

Her aching chest could no longer take it, her lips trembling as she softly said, “Katsuki?”

He turned to look at her, moving in front of you. Making her heart warm yet hurt as it seemed like he was ready to protect you at any turn, even if it was against her. Even if he knew he didn’t need to, he felt the instinct to do just that.

“Bring your friend over whenever you want…”

Carmines met carmines as he held you, like you were something precious to him.

Which you were.

Just not in the way she thought.

A slight warmth filled her at the smile that pulled at your lips, eyes glimmering as you quietly thanked her. Speaking soft ‘good nights’, she watched your backs yet again as he led you up the stairs.

Katsuki was a good kid, despite his coarse front.

He found someone that he cared for.

He found someone he loved.

And you loved Katsuki too.

But…

There’s always different types of love.

Mitsuki was proud of her son and she was proud of you.

You were so strong.

[mcrmadness]

I’m just wondering about ADHD again and how the doctors here say that there’s no need for testing me for ADHD because I had “no signs of ADHD in my childhood”. Well, I was born in 1991. The whole terminology and the knowledge over ADHD was different back then.

I was talking about this with my mom a couple of days ago and she said that I had troubles with homework - not that I would have not understood them, I just had such a hard time focusing on them. She said that she constantly had to remind me that I need to focus on the homework and not draw doodles or do other stuff. She sais she asked even from the school how deal with a child who cannot focus on their homework and from school they just said “Make sure the table is completely empty so there is no distractions.” but my mom told them “Do you really think that helps? All they need is a piece or paper and a pencil.” and those were the tools I had - my school books and pencil. I didn’t need distractions on the table in order to get distracted from homework.

She then also said that back then no one even talked about ADHD. It was still known as MBD aka Minimal Brain Dysfunction Syndrome and since I was not “stupid” and definitely did not show signs of learning/developmental disabilities - in fact I was learning faster than other kids - there was no need to worry about this syndrome. (Nowadays it’s apparently removed from the Finnish list but can still be used as an umbrella term for things like ADHD etc.)

I was trying to google this term now, to understand when was the term replaced by “ADHD”. I only found that this was done in the US already in the late 80s but I could not find anything about Finland, but I know for sure that what comes to things like mental disorders and neurodiversity, Finland has always been running late when compared to e.g. the US... I could only find some sort of Finnish ontology and thesaurus website and it says that the article about MBD was created in 1986, but the article about ADHD only in 2000. That would mean I was 9 years old (and my social anxiety and selective mutism were starting to really grow), and ADHD was still considered very much the “disorder of hyperactive boys”. This website does not even know the term ADD so I have no clue when did they start using it for the first time (in Finland). I just know that my sister got the diagnose along with an Asperger’s Syndrome somewhere in the mid 2000s. Now I’m starting to feel like I want to go find some old books about psychiatry just to see when did they start talking about ADHD and ADD in Finland and how did they describe it as BEFORE they discovered it exists also in girls (and since I’m afab, I most likely have the inattentive version), because this is just driving me so crazy.

I just... I don’t know. I just feel stupid because why is it me who needs to read about the history of psychiatry? Shouldn’t it be the psychiatrists doing so? But I do wonder what would he say if I went to him and really said that “no wonder they never suspected AD(H)D in me as a child when the term literally did not exists in Finland yet”. I just feel like I need to start writing down something like a book about my experiences. Collect EVERYTHING I can find that I have written over the past 15 years in the internet and copypaste them into a file and print this out to him. My brain just empties itself when I’m supposed to talk to a doctor but then I just face these things in everydaylife 24/7. And he just wants to give me antidepressants for anxiety. Okay, he did offer me occupational therapy too but I am afraid that it will just... kill my creativity again. I mean, look at my “timetable” for one week if we think I’d have a random person visit me once a week, let’s say e.g. on Tuesdays:

Monday: Nothing - the resting day after weekend aka no way I’m gonna get anything done. Know that there will be occupational therapy next day - don’t get anything done because mentally trying to prepare yourself for that. Tuesday: Hypothetical occupational therapy. Not possible to get anything done beforehand. Afterwards you’re so tired and the day is done so just sit around the flat and feel like going crazy from bored but be unable to do anything because TIRED. Wednesday: Nothing - the resting day after the therapy. The next day is a grocery store day. Start mentally preparing for that. Can’t do shit because of that. Thursday: Grocery store day. Can’t do shit before or after. Before because can’t start anything in case unable to stop in time - and when having to force a hyperfocus to stop when it’s not stopped on its own, it makes me so irritable and absent minded because can’t think of anything else but that one thing I was hyperfocusing on. Friday: Nothing - rest day after grocery store day. Mentally prepare for the weekend on which I usually always visit my parents on both days. They live in the same city, just less than 2km away but I still can’t start anything before that really, and I come back home so late I won’t be able to do much. Weekend: Visit parents on both days.

And then repeat. So when am I gonna draw? Edit videos? Write? I always do the creative things at night because PEACE and because my brain just works better at nighttime - ALWAYS has. I even found a diary entry I had written when I was 13 or 14 and I had been fighting with my parents because I always did my homework so late and my dad didn’t understand that, and I was then screaming in my diary that they just don’t understand that I am not ABLE to do my homework earlier than in the evening/at night, it’s just not possible to do them right after school.

Already now as I have about 3-4 free days in a week, sometimes even 5, I feel like I need more free time from my free time. I’m constantly thinking about how I want to do this and that, like I want to draw, write, edit videos, write... they are on the top of my mind 24/7 but still it takes weeks or months to get anything started. I just wrote about this yesterday that I feel like I have two moods: either too little time AND energy or too much time but a plenty of energy. There’s no in between. Now I am lucky to have too much time for myself but it also means I have all the time in my hands so I can always procrastinate and do everything the next day because I have time. Which means I won’t do shit, because I have no deadlines, and I start doing those things only when everything lines up perfectly. It’s never a decision to take my sketchbook and start drawing. It’s more of an impulse - I just feel like now it’s the day for drawing and suddenly find myself holding the papers and pencils in my hand.

Same happens with chores, chores just never make me feel good unlike doing one of these fun things. Oh and chores are also something that will make it hard to do the fun things because I kinda... don’t let myself start doing the fun things if I have the not-so-fun things undone. Which means again procrastinating and postponing something like dishes for days. I am not sure where have I got this mentality. Because like... wouldn’t it be a lot smarter to let myself to draw instead when I KNOW I can’t start doing the dishes, instead of punishing myself with “no washing dishes, so no drawing either”? Because as a punishment it does nothing. It does not motivate me with the dishes. They will be there for days or weeks anyway and they will be done only when I get that impulse to finally do them. Or, usually it’s not an impulse even. It’s just me needing food and in order to get food, I need to cook and in order to cook, I need clean pots and pans and in order to get those, well, I need to do the dishes.

I think this mentality partially comes from my school time. I aways knew how to prioritise my homework so that I get them done the most efficiently I could. Which meant that I always made the less-interesting homework first and the homework from subjects I liked, the last. I did this because when I started with the stuff I had harder time focusing on, it made it easier to focus on the interesting stuff. If I had started with the interesting stuff, I’d have had a lot less concentration and energy left for the less interesting homework and the chances of understanding a word of what I read would have been very minimal.

I still pretty much use this with everything I do - work first, fun later. I guess for neurotypicals this is not a big deal and probably something they all do, but my brain really wants to do the fun first and the work never. (By work for myself I mean things like chores etc. When I was actually working, it actually went: work first, fun never - because I was so tired after work I could not do anything that involved brains.) If I start with the fun, I literally will never do the work part. So I have to have the work first, even when it means I will procrastinate with EVERYTHING else too. But that is the only way to get it done at least at some point. It’s just that I feel like my life is nothing but work. I always have to shower, do the dishes, clean the kitchen table or start cooking. (Let alone the rest of the stuff like cleaning the HOME.) It’s a neverending worksite. I barely have time for fun because I don’t let myself to do that because the work is not done yet. But it just... never ends.

I think the reason why I hate chores is because no matter how many times I do them, I still always have to do them again soon. I shower, but I need to shower again in a few days. So it feels like it’s a waste of energy and time! Why to shower now when I have to do that after a couple of days anyway??? I do the dishes but there they will be again in a few days as I keep eating from them! Washing a plate after every use is also not an option - then “it’s just one plate” so it’s easy to put it in the sink because it’s not a big deal to wash it with other plates after a couple of days. Until it’s been 2 weeks and there’s again the rest of my plates in there and I hate my life again because I never remember how much washing the dishes also makes my back hurt but I need clean utensils because food.

But when I create something or play a video game, there is always a finish line and once you get past that, you don’t need to start over UNLESS you want to! When I draw something and it’s finished, it will stay like that! It’s not going anywhere, it won’t fade, I don’t need to draw it ever again if I don’t want to! So it’s not waste of my time, it’s something that will last almost forever. And I love the dopamine rush I get when I look at a finished product, but I don’t have the dopamine rush when I look at my cabinet with clean plates because I know they won’t stay like that forever. They won’t stay like that even for a few days. And that literally kills my motivation with every chore I need to do.

[dayas]

1,3,20 and 25 for the writing ask, I wanna know it all!

First off, I wanna say thank you for giving me this ask because now I have something to think about instead of just being in a sad cloud ❤️ it’s nice to have a little break 💞

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it.

Not to expose myself but I have like 5 WIPS 😂

War Of Hearts (jiara reincarnation au), a not so secret combination Dimya fic (flower shop + mob au), an angsty gotham/the batman (fc wise djdjsjsn) BatCat one shot (selina meeting bruce after he left in a slightly unexpected way), and I’m trying to draft/spin ideas for a POTC Klonnie au (calypso and davy jones’ story). With WOH, I’m filling in the second chapter which is taking FOREVER (sorry y’all), but I’m actually super excited for it to drop! With the work entirely, I definitely love all the little hints and breadcrumbs. It’s gonna start coming together more in the second chapter and I’m super pumped to see what y’all think! I’m on Chapter 1 of the Dimya Fic and searching for my inspiration but I know how it’s gonna go and that makes me happy. I love the combo aspect of the fic and how it’s a mashup, plus there’s some not so subtle underlying themes that I think are cool to explore! With BatCat, I wrote some yesterday! It’s a songfic and I love that about it, but also just the angst and flashbacks included, I think it’ll be really cool! And for the Klonnie fic, I haven’t even started 😭 Someone was basically like ‘write this!’ so I was like ‘okay!’ but I don’t know them that well yet writing wise so I need to explore 😂 tbh it’s just a concept that I really, really love and I have some ideas for the melody that goes along with it. Unsure if it’ll be a multi chap or a realllyyy long one shot once it drops but I’m thrilled either way! The technical “fifth” wip is for everybody who asked me when Kie would find out JJ is Sarah’s bf’s friend so watch out for that 👀 y’all ask, I answer 😂

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

GOD! THIS! Okay okay okay I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write a Jiara break up scene but there’s SO MUCH WORK THAT GOES INTO THAT LIKE THE SET UP AND THEN BUILDING INTO AN EXPLOSION SO here’s a no context, cliche, dramatic af breakup scene for jiara thank you for giving me the freedom to write this 😂

“We need to talk.”

That alone stops what she’s doing. JJ and Kiara don’t usually ‘talk’. They can have serious conversations, but they tend to reserve getting deep for when they’re either really really high, or the issue around them has to be resolved. They’re not in high school anymore, but old habits die hard. Still, she shakes off the pause, drying another dish as she says,

“About?”

“... stuff.”

“Stuff. Real eloquent there, JJ.”

His eyes are practically heating the soapy water up themselves. The kitchen at the Chateau isn’t exactly prime real estate as far as cleanliness goes, but since they’re around here more often than not, Kie decided to make an effort to spruce it up a little bit and dragged JJ into it.

Something’s wrong. He’s fiddling with his rings underneath the water at a faster pace than normal, leaning heavily against the lip of the sink.

“Dude, are you okay?”

Her voice is soft as she dries her hands off, coming up to him and slipping her arms around his chest, cheek pressed into his back. He tenses underneath her, shrugging her off and backing away.

“JJ,” Kiara’s voice is concerned now, “What’s going on?”

“Weneedtobreakup.”

His sentence is a blur that knocks into her, rattling around her brain as it spins like a top. As all tops do, the spinning eventually stops, leaving her with the capacity to space out the miniature word flood that left his mouth a few seconds ago.

We need to break up.

“What?” Kie says, panic creeping into her system, “Why?” She begins to think of what could have gone wrong, what could have prompted this.

“It’s not you, it’s — ”

“If you try to feed me one of your bullshit lines that worked on the ghosts of hookups past, don’t.”

He has the decency to shut up then and there, turning instead to lean back against the cabinets, hands gripping the edge of another counter.

“Is this about what my cousin said?”

A few weeks ago, they’d been invited to a formal family gathering on her mother’s side. Some crazy expensive week in Hawaii. Well, Kiara had been invited, and she brought JJ for two reasons. One, he’s her best friend which legally obligated him to help her out in a spot. Two, they were getting pretty serious (or so she thought), and she couldn’t hide in the OBX forever, so why not kill two birds with one stone? At an extremely over the top event, one of Kie’s drunk cousins approached JJ and started spewing some nonsense. Kiara intervened, of course, but later, she remembers, another one approached. Completely sober. She hadn’t been paying attention to that conversation, occasionally glancing over to make sure JJ wasn’t floundering. He’d been restless the entire night and a few days afterwards. But when they’d come back home, all was well. Or, again, so she’d thought.

She should’ve just chucked the damn stone at herself.

He grimaces, and it’s to her horror that she realizes it’s true.

“What the fuck did she say?”

Her voice is low and dangerous, a tiny sliver of a hint as to what’s hiding behind her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” JJ shrugs, eyes everywhere but her.

“Of course it fucking matters, JJ! What did she say?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s a lie.”

“I already told you it doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter then just tell me!”

“Fine!”

They are two powder kegs on the verge of an explosion. Kiara lit the spark, jumping the gun to shouting. He followed, and and now they’re at a precipice.

“You really wanna know what she said? Fine. She said that I’ll never be good enough for you, and you know what? She’s right.”

They tilt on the edge, still caught in the middle, unsure of where to fall.

“No. She’s not.” How can he even say that, let alone believe it? Kie isn’t always a fan of the cheesy, but it’s a cold hard fact that the man standing before her is one of the best things in her life.

“She is, Kie. You know she is. You’re not a Kook, but your family... they can give you so much more than I can. Opportunities and shit, the chance to get out of here. What do I have going for me?”

“Everything! You know I don’t want any of that bullshit or the baggage that comes with it — I want you.”

“I’m not gonna be enough. One day you’re gonna look up and realize that you want out of this place. Or I’m gonna look up and realize I turned into my dad.”

A bitter laugh leaves him, slicing them both to ribbons in the process.

“You’re not him, J. You’re not your dad and you never will be your dad.”

“You don’t know that! I don’t know that!”

They step closer at the same time, spark relit on the fuse to destroy them.

“JJ — ”

“No, Kiara. We can’t keep doing this. I’m stuck, and I’m not dragging you down with me.”

“You’re not dragging me down if I want to be here!”

Four more feet and they are two steps away from each other. They’re both tired, oh so tired, yet neither one is willing to give up the fight for their cause. The frustration builds, coiling tightly around them as JJ steps forward and shouts,

“I’m gonna ruin your life!”

“Then ruin it!”

Kie’s scream is passionate, every emotion inside of her escaping in those three words as she steps up to meet him.

“Ruin my life, JJ Maybank. Because I’d rather be in ashes with you than anywhere with anyone else.”

He takes one look at her and the pause between them could stop a train. Then, his head ducks down and his lips crash against hers. She reciprocates, sinking both hands into his hair. He picks her up and she wraps her arms around his waist as he sets her against the counter. Dishes crash onto the floor but neither of them are even remotely half assed to care. His lips attach to her neck and she exhales sharply.

“Stay,” Kiara whispers. And she wishes he did. If she would have been controlling their story, they would have taken this to Big John’s room and the breakup talks would cease. But she put everything in his hands, as he’s making the decision here. So when she tells him to ruin her life, she watches him grapple with himself. For a second, she sees his head tilt ever so slightly forward. He reels himself back in a second later, and the fire in his eyes burns out.

“I’m sorry,” JJ whispers, shaking his head and backing away from her.

“JJ,” Kiara calls after him, “JJ!” She’s immobilized, feet stuck to the floor.

This isn’t happening. This is not happening.

Something inside her breaks and she runs, tearing through the house. He’s already on his bike as she gets to the front porch, and curse him, he looks back. He puts the helmet in his hands on (she bought him that for his birthday — “You’re not getting fucked up on my watch. Put the damn helmet on.”) and drives away.

Kiara doesn’t know what happens next. When her faculties return her knees are scraped up, blood trickling down. She’s still on the porch and her face is wet, cheeks marred by liquid pooling in her eyes. Someone is crying, loudly, like their heart was ripped from their chest. No, she thinks, like someone else’s heart was ripped from their chest, someone the person crying loved. Because if her own heart was ripped out, she would not be able to feel. What Kiara wouldn’t give to not feel a goddamn thing right now.

She calls Sarah. Her friend comes and picks her up, and they go to her place. Kie can’t bear to be in the Chateau or her own room. Sarah’s is devoid of memories, for the most part. She explains what happened through her tears as her friend holds her, gently carding her fingers through her hair comfortingly. They light up, and then get a little tipsy and Kiara doesn’t know if it’s better or for worse. But it’s something. She’s reminded of after the Phantom went down, that night on the beach when she discovered the freedom to be. In this moment, Kiara’s free to be something. Anything. Whatever she wants. But the one thing she wants removed himself from her life, so she settles for being a mess instead. Sarah settles in with her when they’re all worn out, falling asleep quickly. Kiara’s vaguely aware that the person next to her is not who she wants it to be, that this is wrong in the sense that someone else should be here. She’s too cold, unraveled.

“Stay,” she whispers, but this time to herself. If she can stay for tonight, she can stay for tomorrow, and the day after that until she eventually finds her way back to who she is without him in her life. She’s not the same Kiara as she was this morning. She’ll be a different Kiara when she wakes up tomorrow. The Kiara she is wraps her arms around herself to keep whatever’s left from pouring out. She will do what he refused to. When the morning comes, she will face the world. While the moon is out, she is free to dream.

She dreams one last dream of him.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Okay LOOK 😂 there’s so much I wanna say on this but it would be so spoiler-y BUT for War Of Hearts, do some scanning! There’s a lot to unpack there, some obvious, some not! It becomes more evident in the chapters to come. I wish I could say more and I totally would if all of it was published 😭😭😭 OOO but I do enjoy referencing my works in other works (literally did that in the mini scene above lmao) so there’s a good chance that I riff off of previous concepts or something else across the stories/one shots that I write! There’s so many references I throw in too. For example, the ‘I hope you care to be recalled to life’ part in It Wasn’t Special Til I Met you is from A Tale Of Two Cities. I definitely love exploring concepts in my work, which I guess is why it kind of reads as flowery when I dig into it 😂

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

To me, I really love when I’m able to come up with good dialogue or a good scene and I’m like ‘OOO YES THIS IS IT!” It’s super fun to explore the underlying themes and symbolism in pieces; I totally love and live for weaving stuff together like Blues Clues 😂 I also adore dropping references to various works or songs because people will catch them and be like ‘wait is that xyz?’ and I’m like ‘yeah! yes it is! you get it!’ And that’s just a wonderful feeling 😊🥰

That’s all for me! Thanks for asking!

[buckleysjareau]

baby you know i just wanna leave tonight

9-1-1 Week 2020, Day 5: “it’s okay, you can cry.” + hurt

If there was one thing that people knew about Evan Buckley, it was that he didn’t want people to know him.

or

People find out more about Buck than he ever wanted them to know when the Buckley's come to town.

read on ao3

tw; past childhood neglect, past emotional abuse, emotional abuse, mention of a car accident

If there was one thing that people knew about Evan Buckley, it was that he didn’t want people to know him. 

He wasn’t cold, and he didn’t shy from making friends, but his friends could count on one hand the things they knew about him. He trained to be a Navy SEAL, he tended bar in South America, and he had a sister named Maddie. The last one only came up because she showed up in Los Angeles one day. 

There are certain things that Eddie notices when it comes to Buck and personal questions. There was one time Christopher asked if Buck was going to make his dad a card for Father’s Day and Buck tensed up like he’d been asked if he was guilty of murder. His response had been simple enough for Christopher, just that his dad was in Pennsylvania, it’d be too far to send it.

He doesn’t mention that Christopher sends one to his Abuelo in El Paso. 

Another thing he gets weird about is his college education. He’s joked about not remembering what he wrote his college essay on, but that’s as far as that went. Karen asked him about it once and instead of answering, he deflects and puts the attention back on her. He notices the look Hen shares with Karen right after and he realizes he’s not the only one that’s noticed something off.

When the team learns something new about Buck one day, it’s brought up by Chimney. 

They’re at Eddie’s house for a team gathering, the Rams game on the TV. Bobby, Chimney, and Eddie have all of their attention on the game when Chimney looks over at Buck sitting on the loveseat, completely unenthused with all of their game day chaos. 

“I’m surprised you’re not more into the game, Buckaroo. Didn’t you play football?” 

Buck’s eyes turned to saucers. “How do you know that?”

“Maddie told me. We were talking about if we’d ever get our son or daughter into sports since neither of us are very athletic in that sense, and she told me you played all through high school and college.” 

That gets a reaction from everyone. It’s something new they’ve learned about Buck, so of course it’s exciting, but Buck looks like he’s ready to bolt.

“How is that relevant?” He gulps.

“You’re gonna be his or her uncle, so at least one of us is good at sports.” Chimney laughs, which was the wrong thing to do, because Buck stands abruptly.

“Maybe you should wait until they’re old enough to decide what they want to do instead of just putting them in a sport they might not wanna do.” After that, he runs out. Maddie follows after him with a sigh, guilt and anger written on her face.

No one talks about it after that. His friends noticed just how much Buck refuses to talk about himself, how uncomfortable it makes him, so they back off. He’d come to them on his own time, whenever that may be.

Little did they know that they’d all be finding out a lot more about Buck than they ever thought they would.

Eddie walks into the firehouse with coffee for Chimney and Buck at the beginning of his shift. He knows things are hectic for Maddie and Chimney seeing as her due date was a couple of weeks away, but he also knows Buck is not excluded from the stress. 

He’d been over Eddie’s the night before and after Christopher was put to bed, the random facts about pregnancy and due dates started spewing out. He knew most of them because of Shannon’s pregnancy books but the fact that Buck knew them most likely meant he fell down the Google rabbit hole. He really only does that when he’s stressed or can’t sleep.

Coffee would be a nice surprise. 

He finds Buck sitting on one of the couches in the loft, hands in hair, his phone on his lap. It’s obvious he’s not happy, maybe a little mad, but mostly he just looks scared. 

“Hey, Buck! I got you a coffee.” Eddie sits next to him and places the coffees in front of them. “You okay?”

When Buck looks up, the change in expression could have given him whiplash. He’s pretty fast at putting on a mask, he’ll give him that.

“Oh! Thanks, man, I definitely needed this.” He laughs. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

“Then why were you staring at your phone like it killed your puppy?”

“I don’t have a puppy.” Deflection. He sighs when Eddie gives him a look. “Maddie just told me… something.” 

“Something?” He knows he shouldn’t push, knows what the outcome will probably be but he’s gotta try. 

“Yeah. Something.” Buck has his fists tightly clenched. 

Eddie sighs. “Alright. You know I’m always here to talk, right? About anything.” He reminds him like he does every time. 

“Yeah, I know, thanks.” 

Do you?

The conversation turns to something normal for the two and Buck seems okay, seemingly content to just drink his coffee and talk to Eddie. 

Until Chimney walks into the loft. He looks apprehensively at the older man, like he’s going to say something he doesn’t want said out loud. It makes sense, Chimney must know more stuff about Buck than any of them through Maddie. He wouldn’t say he’s jealous, really, but he hates not knowing anything about his best friend. 

“I got you a coffee, Chim!” Eddie calls him over and whatever Maddie told Buck definitely doesn’t affect him because the man has a big smile on his face.

“You shouldn’t have!” He takes a sip. “You even remembered the cinnamon! If I wasn’t with Maddie, I’d marry you in a heartbeat just for this, man!” 

“You got him a coffee, too?” Buck gasps. “And here I thought I was special.”

“You’re special, Buckaroo. A special type of idiot.” Chimney grins but drops it as soon as he gets up and glares at him. “Cap! Help! I’m too young to die!” 

“Buck, stop chasing Chimney, he’s too young to die.” Bobby says without even looking up from the tomatoes he’s chopping. 

The banter and teasing seems to put Buck in a better mood and the look on his face when Eddie found him has long disappeared.

It doesn’t stay that way. 

They were having family dinner, passing around food, and laughing about a call they just had where a six year old ran off from her parents to chase a squirrel and ended up in a tree.

“The mom was telling me that her ending up in high places was a normal occurrence.” Bobby laughs. “Athena said May was the same way.”

“Those parents were so cool about it. My mom would have killed me for getting the Fire Department called.” Hen snorts. 

“My parents definitely would have just laughed at me once they knew I was okay.” Eddie can’t hold back a laugh at the memory it brings up. “My sister chased a stray cat and fell face first in cow manure and they still haven’t let her live it down.”

He looks over to Buck and sees the face he saw when he first came in. 

Eddie changes the subject quickly in hopes it’ll change Buck’s mood but he’s zoned out. 

They’re cleaning up when Chimney walks over to Buck, who’s cleaning the dishes, and asks him something that Eddie can’t hear. It’s not good, though, because Buck drops whatever dish he was washing back into the sink and backs away. 

“Why would I do that?” He snaps. 

“They’re your parents, Buck. I just wanted to know if you were coming.” It’s a quiet response but Eddie hears it.

Buck rolls his eyes and storms off, calling angrily over his shoulder, “you don’t know shit, dude!” 

Everyone turns to Chimney. “What the hell happened?”

Chimney sighs, guilt written across his face. “His, uh, parents are flying in tomorrow. I just asked him if he was going with us to get them from the airport.”

Hen’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You asked the guy who clams up at the tiniest question about his past if he’s going to pick up the people he refuses to talk about?”

He looks like he knows he fucked up. “I know, I know. It’s just, Maddie’s been reconnecting with them and I figured Buck was doing the same.” 

Eddie gives him a pointed look and heads off to find Buck. When he does, he’s already changed into his gym clothes and hitting the punching bag like it’s his worst enemy. 

“Don’t give me that look, man. I don’t wanna talk about it.” He huffs. 

“I’m not asking you to talk about it. I’m not one who should be lecturing people on talking about their feelings. I’m just here to see if you’re alright, okay?” Eddie puts the boxing pads on as he speaks. “But maybe it’ll help if you have someone to swing at?”

Buck doesn’t say anything, he just turns to Eddie’s held out arms and starts pounding at the boxing pads. Eddie never falters or stops, he just lets Buck take out his frustration on him, only lowers his arms when Buck stops. 

It remains quiet for a few minutes, only the sound of Buck’s labored breathing filling the air, so Eddie’s surprised when Buck speaks up.

“They want to be a part of the baby’s life. Maddie decided to let them, and now they’re gonna be here in less than twenty four hours and I’m pissed, okay?” 

“Your parents?” He doesn’t know why he asks, he knows the answer.

“Who else?” Buck bites. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He wants to know more. He wants to know why he’s so mad about Maddie letting them in her baby’s life, wants to know why in their two years of friendship this is the first he’s ever heard Buck mention his parents. He wants to know everything but he doesn’t want Buck to start pulling back from him for asking too many questions.

“It’s whatever.” Buck’s never looked so uncomfortable and Eddie hates that he’s the one making him feel that way around him. “Can I come over after this shift?”

“Of course. Always.”

Before the conversation can get any further, the alarm rings and everything else is forgotten. 

It’s seven in the morning when they get to Eddie’s, just in time to say bye to Christopher before Carla takes him to school. She’s not surprised to see Buck, but she senses something’s up because she raises an eyebrow at Eddie while Christopher is giving him a hug. Eddie’s head shake clearly doesn’t satisfy her but she doesn’t say anything. 

They say their goodbyes and they end up on the couch, Netflix pulled up to continue watching Parks and Recreation. Usually after a twenty four hour shift Eddie would be sleeping as soon as he was home but it’s what they usually do after bad shifts. He could tell it’s exactly what Buck needs to relax so he’ll stay awake a little while longer. 

“Meeting my parents is going to be inevitable so please pay them no mind when you do. Please.”

“Why, Buck?” 

“Just don’t, okay? You’ll understand.” He sounds desperate so Eddie doesn’t ask again. 

It’s quiet again after that, only the sound of the TV playing throughout the room. He feels Buck’s leg stop shaking and before he can look over, Buck’s resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder and snoring. Deciding against moving him to get up, Eddie rests his own head on top of Buck’s and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t come to until his phone rings five hours later. Maddie’s name lights up his screen and has him glancing over at Buck, who still seemed to be knocked out on his shoulder. 

He swipes to answer. “Hey, Maddie, what’s up?”

“Hey! Do you know where Buck is? He’s not answering his phone.”

“He’s right here. He’s sleeping.” He whispers. 

“Oh, alright, let him sleep.” He was planning on it. “Can you let him know when he wakes up that our parents made it safely and want to see him?”

He sighs. His parents appearance is what has him so uncomfortable so he really doesn’t want to, but he tells her he will anyway and says goodbye. He feels weird about Buck’s parents being here after the conversation of them had been avoided for so long so he really can’t even begin to imagine how Buck feels. 

Buck’s brows furrow in his sleep, a frown present on his face like he’s somewhere he doesn’t want to be in his mind. Eddie sighs for the thousandth time that day. 

“I’m so sorry, Buck.” He hopes it reaches his dream. 

Eddie despises Buck’s parents. 

He meets them for the first time at Maddie’s last minute baby shower the next day. The shower was their mother’s idea and had Maddie asking Buck to make his famous red velvet cupcakes at seven in the evening. He’d been frantic the whole night and he ends up stress baking way more cupcakes than needed for their little party. 

That already has Eddie annoyed with her but it only gets worse from there. 

“Evan, honey, it’s been forever!” Buck is tense as he hugs his mother. 

“Hey, mom.” 

“Oh, honey, how many times do I have to tell you to cover that thing? People don’t want to see that.” She’s pulling out a tube of foundation before she even finishes her sentence but Buck ducks away from her. 

“I don’t want it covered, thanks.” He smiles tightly. “Where’s dad?” 

“He’s in the other room talking to that cute captain of yours.” 

The mention of his father being in the same room as Bobby has him completely frozen. Eddie doesn’t like how panicked he looks so he steps in and nudges his shoulder. “Let’s go say hi to Cap.” 

It gets Buck going again, enough for him to move his feet and into Athena’s dining room. The Grant-Nash’s are saints for throwing such a last minute get together, especially one planned by someone Eddie has already deemed annoying. 

“Buck! Eddie! You’re finally here.” Chimney looks like he wants to be anywhere but that dining room right now. “Where’s Christopher?”

Eddie smiles. “He already went off with Harry and Denny somewhere.”

“Here we are.” Buck chuckles awkwardly. “Hi, dad.” 

“Evan.” 

It’s so awkward in there that he’s about to say something but Bobby beats him to it by clearing his throat. “Athena tells me you brought your red velvet cupcakes?” 

Buck laughs. “Yeah, and there’ll be plenty left, don’t worry. I made way more than necessary.”

The smile on Buck’s face dims when he hears his dad scoff under his breath. “So you can bake but not cook? Of course.”

“Your son is an amazing cook, Mr. Buckley.” Bobby defends, ignoring the implication of his words.

“Alright. Let me ask you this Captain Nash… Is Evan as good of a firefighter as he is a cook?”

Buck’s eyes widened. “Just leave it be, dad.” 

“He’s an excellent firefighter, one of the best I’ve ever had under my captaincy.” Bobby places his hand on Buck’s shoulder and smiles. “The one-eighteen is lucky to have him.”

“If he was so good then he wouldn’t have had to have six surgeries, Captain Nash.” 

Eddie wants to punch this guy.

“I will never understand why you would ruin your life like this, Evan.” His tone is cold. “You had a full ride to Duke University. You wouldn’t have had to have those surgeries if you hadn’t dropped out your senior year and quit the only noble thing you’ll ever do.” 

Full ride to Duke University? What the hell?

“Can we not do this now?” 

His father ignores him. “You could have been drafted by the NFL. You could have been making millions of dollars by now if you stuck to it.”

“Thought you wanted me to be a doctor?” He snaps back. “I hated football. I only ever played so you would be proud of me but you never were. Dropping out was the best thing I could have done for myself because it meant I was done living for you.” 

His outburst from the team get together finally made sense to them. 

“You dropped out to whore yourself out around South America, that’s hardly living, Evan.” His mom decides to chime in making Eddie clench his fists. “You broke your father’s heart. You should have been more like your sister.”

“I broke- I broke his-” Buck shakes his head. “You know what? I can’t. I can’t do this.” 

“Yeah, run like you always do. I really don’t know why we ever bothered with you.” His mom shouts and Buck stops abruptly. 

“You didn’t! You never bothered with me. You never cared enough about me to bother. I did everything to get your attention, everything! I played football, I got all As, I said fuck a social life, I have to study. I dated your boss’ daughter. Nothing I ever did got you to actually look at me. Hell, even me wrapping my car around a tree didn’t make you pay attention to me. You want to be in my niece or nephew’s life? Fine, I don’t care. But I don’t want you in mine.” 

It’s quiet as Buck runs off. 

As Eddie runs after him, he hears Maddie telling her parents to leave. Thank God. 

Buck is pacing in the backyard with his hands covering his face when Eddie finds him. He’s breathing heavy, no doubt still reeling with pent up anger. 

“Hey.”

Buck looks up, tries to smile at him, then looks away. He sits on one of one of the benches used for their outside table and looks next to him then back to Eddie. He takes the invitation.

“You turned out pretty great considering your parents.”

Buck chokes out a wet laugh. He notices a tear that Buck brushes away shamefully, turning away from Eddie like he was embarrassed.

Eddie places a hand on Buck’s knee and squeezes. “It’s okay, you can cry.”

Those words are what opens the floodgates. He hears a sniff, then a whimper, and then Buck is shaking with his cries. Eddie lets out a sad sigh before he reaches out and pulls him into his chest. “Football is a dumb sport anyway.”

Buck appreciates his attempt at humor because his crying is accompanied by laughter a second later. Eddie holds him through it all, holds him until he’s not crying anymore. 

Buck pulls away and smiles shyly at him. “Thanks.”

“Always. Me having your back extends to this, just so you know.” 

He smiles. “Are they gone?” 

“Yeah, your sister made them leave right after you left.”

“Good, because I really want a cupcake.”

[jadekitty777]

Baker’s Dozen, Part 1

Oh my god we are at the home stretch and I am still amazed I managed to do all eight days. This is a two-parter, so the second chapter will be up tomorrow.

Day 7: First Morning @taiqrowweek

Rating: K

Words: 6,000

Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]

Ao3 Link: Baker’s Dozen

~

Early Saturday afternoon found downtown L.A. bustling with traffic on the sidewalks and the road. Qrow found himself in the heart of Pershing Square, lying on the grass and enjoying the midday sun beaming down on him, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.

“Oh my god! Qrow Branwen?!”

His eyes shot open, seeing a small gaggle of women hurrying his way as every head within earshot turned to look right at him.

Oh right.

That was why.

He shot to his feet, yelling over his shoulder as he sprinted away, “Sorry! No autographs today!”

He thanked whatever gods might be out there that his last role forced him to stay in excellent shape, because he was easily able to outdistance his pursuers. Unfortunately, as he skirted around the foot traffic, their yells only seemed to be attracting more attention his way. He ever spotted one desperate teenager pulling a phone from her purse.

He was about to be all over Instagram, wasn’t he?

Knowing this called for every actor’s Superman disguise, Qrow pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shoving them onto his face as he took the first alleyway he could find. Coming out on the other side, he slowed his pace to a fast walk, lowering his head to avoid further detection and slipped into the doorway of one of the businesses a few doors down before the other crowd could catch up.

He sighed, grateful for the dark atmosphere inside the building as he pulled out his phone. Alright, time to call his driver and get out of dodge.

“Table for one?” The question had him jerking around, seeing a young woman in a cowboy getup smiling his way from a little podium. Her golden hair was particularly eye catching, long and untamed in a way that reminded him of his twin sister’s. Her name tag, which was in the shape of a star, read ‘Yang’.

He took in the environment around her, noticing the array of booths and tables that made up the majority of the room, and realized he’d ducked right into a restaurant. “Uh, no sorry I uh-” He started to say, only to trail off as he actually considered it. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like he’d eaten, and it would take his driver about the same time to get there when having to slog through the weekend traffic. “I mean, yeah, just me. Can I get a booth as isolated as possible?”

“You got it!” Yang agreed, picking up one of the menus and leading him to a booth in the back. He couldn’t help but notice she even had spurs on her boots that clanked when she walked. The walls were decorated with a similar Texan flair, bull horns and deer antlers interspaced with paintings of farm homes and woodland creatures and metal lone stars. How quaint.

Despite the aesthetics though, it was obvious from the minute he sat down and the bench creaked loudly, that upkeep wasn’t a priority. Or, he reassessed as he took note of the lack of patrons despite it being the lunch hour, it probably just wasn’t in the budget. That probably wasn’t a promising sign on the quality for his upcoming meal.

“Ruby will be with you soon.” Yang said, setting the menu before him. The cover had the name ‘The Dragon’s Den’ proudly printed across it. Wait, that wasn’t southern. Did he somehow run all the way to Chinatown instead?

“Uh, thanks.” He flipped the menu, but with the lighting so low, he couldn’t read the finer script. He pulled off his sunglasses, setting them on the table before looking through his options. Despite the slightly confused name, everything within seemed pretty par for the course; roast beef, fried chicken, catfish, and a large array of barbequed meats that any Tramp off the street would gladly steal for his Lady.

“Howdy there, can I get you started w- Oh my god!”

Ah, shit.

He looked up, seeing yet another starstruck gaze aimed at him by a petite girl in a similar get up to the hostess but was a few years younger – was she even old enough to work here?

He held up his hand in a desperate attempt to ward off any screaming. “Kid, I swear to give you the best tip of your life if you keep quiet.”

His waitress pressed her notepad against her mouth, a muffled squeak escaping around it. After a moment, she took a breath, then lowered the notepad slightly to reveal a sly smile. “I’ll make sure Yang seats any customers far away from you if you promise me an autograph and a picture too.”

He snorted. What a devious little brat! He could appreciate that. “Deal.”

“Hehe, yes!” She gave a little hop before quickly composing herself, placing her pen to the page. “Alright stranger that I’ve never met and do not know the name of, what would you like to drink?”

“Don’t oversell it kid. And water’s fine.”

“Coming right up!” She scurried away. He watched her detour towards the front, dragging the blond woman to the back where they disappeared behind a set of swinging double doors.

He counted down from five in his head.

“EEEEEEEEEEEE!” Came two screams from the kitchen.

Right on cue.

“OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!!” Was the next shout he heard, the tone definitely masculine.

Yang came back out first, her gaze lingering his way before she hurried away, giggling all the while. Ruby was next, setting a glass of water on his table along with a straw.

“Your drink, mon-sir.”

He laughed. “Did you mean monsieur?”

“Yeah, that one!” She giggled good-naturedly. Despite the fact she was an obvious fangirl, he found himself taking a liking to her.

“Heard a bit of yelling back there.” He gestured towards the doorway.

“Yeah, dad just thinks we’re being dumb. He doesn’t believe you’re out here.”

Dad? Well, that might explain why it seemed this rustic establishment was getting away with breaking child labor laws. “Eh, it’s probably better that way anyways.” Kids were cute; but adults fawning over him was always a little weird, especially if they were around his age.

“He wouldn’t know how to appreciate the moment anyways.”  Ruby clacked her heels together, spurs chiming when she did. “So were you ready to order or did you want a few minutes?”

He glanced down towards the menu. He wasn’t really used to food like this. Growing up, his dad would favor getting the rice cooker going rather than tend to the BBQ gathering dust outside. As for now, his career tended to call for strict dietery needs depending on what shape he needed to be in for each role – none of which ever called for anything steeped so heavily in grease and fat. “Any suggestions?”

“Ooo,” She tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully. “Well dad just took out the kolaches a half hour ago, so those are extra good right now.”

The question was out of his mouth before he could think to fake it, “What’s a kolach?”

“Oh, it’s a Texas thing. Basically, it’s a pasty with filling. Today’s strawberry, which is my favorite.”

“Trying to sell me dessert before the main course?”

“Well yeah! That’s like the highlight of being an adult, right? When I move out, that’s how I’m gonna do it.” Ruby said proudly. “But if you want to be all traditional about it, then by far dad’s best dish is the country-fried steak.”

He knew what that dish was at least. Steak fried in batter and slathered in gravy. It sounded like a heart attack on a plate. He closed the menu decisively, handing it to her. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Great!” She quickly wrote it down.

As the girl hurried over to go place his order, Qrow took the opportunity to look up the address and text it to An. ‘Pick me up in forty-five?’

‘Certainly sir.’ She replied.

He had just switched back to his browser, when Ruby came back, setting a small plate in front of him. The Kolach was about the size of a cookie, with a breading cooked to a nice golden brown and the bright red strawberry filling dusted over with powdered sugar.

“Here you go! The best dessert you’ll ever have.” She proclaimed.

It certainly looked good, but it wouldn’t have anything on his mother’s Ichigo Daifuku. “Maybe second greatest kiddo.”

Ruby looked about ready to defend her dessert’s honor when a call of ‘waiter’ had her drawing back. “Um, gotta go. Enjoy!”

Picking up the pastry, Qrow turned his attention back to his phone. He eyed the 2.9 rating the restaurant had on Yelp, his stomach turning with trepidation as he took his first bite. The outer crust had a nice crunch but the inner dough was fluffy and light, with a hint of butter. The sweetness also hit with less punch than he was expecting, the strawberry standing mostly on its own with only the sugar on top adding to it. Just the way he liked it.

He was right, it didn’t out beat the Daifuku… but it was pretty close.

As he polished it off, he pulled up the reviews, scanning through them.

‘Great food but the decor is just awful. Pretty sure the place hasn’t had an upgrade since the 70s.’

‘Nice staff but everyone looks like they should be operating out of a western drama.’

‘Terrible! The kid waiting on me didn’t even look fifteen. She was super clumsy too. Dropped a whole cup of BBQ right on my sweater. When I demanded to speak to the owner about it, the hostess gave me attitude about how he was too busy and called ME a blowhard! What a circus show! Never coming back!’

‘The food’s amazing, but the wait times are ridiculous. Forty-five minutes for a rack of ribs? Is there only one cook back there?’

And on they went. Complaints about the location, the confusing name, more on wait time and the staff. But, beyond a few issues on the food arriving too cold, there was nothing but stellar compliments for the taste. He lent back in his seat, hearing it give another dying groan. He watched Yang sit another table of five while Ruby bustled about to get their drinks. Eyed his crumb-dusted plate, realizing the treat was probably offered to him because someone hungry was more likely to notice the wait for the main course. What a sad state. Apparently great food but poor management and lack of funds to fix anything. The place probably wasn’t going to last another year.

Ruby was all smiles when she came back to him, clearing his dish. “So, did you like it?”

“It was excellent, just like you promised.” Qrow told her honestly. For a split second, he almost let that be the end of it all. To just have his meal and leave, forgetting all about the reviews that foreshadowed the Dragon Den’s closure and the innocent kid whose family would be facing thousands of dollars in debt.

Instead he found himself strangely invested. Perhaps it was just human curiosity or pure boredom, but whatever it was, something made him lean forward, cross his arms over the table and ask, “So Ruby, you said your dad’s the one cooking, but who runs the place?”

“He does.”

He arched a brow. “He’s the owner and the chef? And he makes his kids work here?”

She shifted on her feet. “Uh well, I only help out on weekends and maybe a weekday here or there when dad really needs me. Yang’s got it real bad tho. She has to rush from her classes at Cal State to here five times a week.”

As the suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, he almost asked, but figured the deliberate omission about the whereabouts of their mother was all the answer he needed.

“There’s no other waiters?” He asked instead.

“No, we’ve got a few part timers, just not enough for a full day. Dad keeps saying when business picks back up he’ll hire a few more and a new chef too but,” Ruby averted her gaze. “That was a year ago.”

“What happened?” He pressed.

She shook her head. “We kept losing staff and now I just think he’s too busy. He sometimes doesn’t even come home. He’ll just sleep at one of the tables and then be up for the next day.”

“He’s here every day? From open to close?”

“Yeah.”

He whistled low between his teeth, placing his palm under his chin. He’d had some rough shoots over the years, but at least he had the solace of taking breaks. “Wow. That’s awful. And I bet a teenager like you hates having to work when you’d rather be at home playing video games.”

“Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Ruby refuted, before amending shortly after, “Uh well, most times, at least. Jerky customers kind of ruin my day. But otherwise, it’s okay.”

He had a feeling it was anything but. “You sure ‘bout that?”

“Yeah. I mean, when we first moved here, this place was dad’s dream.” She waved vaguely in the air as if to encompass the little establishment. “He always loved making people happy by cooking for them. Even when I was a kid he’d tell me that the gift of a good meal is the smile on someone’s face when they eat it.” She faced him, resolute and steady. “I know it’s important to him, so if I can help him keep this place by working here every now and again, then that’s just what I’ll do.”

He studied her carefully, but nothing he could see seemed imply she was lying in any way. It was a value he could certainly respect, as he and his sister had grown up being told the importance of caring for and respecting their elders. But living in America taught him that not all families operated this way. It was surprising, but uplifting, to see it here. “That’s rather admirable of you.”

Before they could say more, a hiss of ‘Ruby!’ drew her up short, and then Yang was sidling over, an impressive stack of plates balanced precariously along her left arm. “Table 3 needs their check before they bounce on us.”

“Oh right.” She paused, just long enough to place the pastry dish on top of her sister’s already full load with an overly sweet smile.

Once his waitress had left, Qrow said, “Guess I’m distracting her.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You can distract half the nation.” Yang replied. “Must be awful, never having enough privacy.”

He shrugged it off, as if he hadn’t sprinted several blocks twenty minutes ago. “Comes with the business.”

“Well, I’d hate it. I get enough attention as it is.” She shifted some of the weight on her arm.

“Ah, what? You’re the total heartthrob in school or something?” He could see that. She had other assets that matched Raven’s – and he remembered how often that had the boys trailing after her like stray dogs desperate for affection.

“Or something.” She echoed vaguely. “I’m going to go check on your meal.”

It was only as she turned away, he noticed her right hand as it caught the faint light from above. The shine to the skin too bright to be natural and its immobility too revealing that the limb was anything but real.  

Or something indeed.

God, maybe he should pitch a show because this was starting to feel like a classic TV sitcom. A single dad, running a failing restaurant and just struggling to get by to provide for his two kids, one of whom was disabled and the other was sacrificing the last of her childhood. Ruby, with her boundless optimism, would be the star of course. Yang would be the sassy, fiery-tempered co-host. Their dad would be a bumbling fool with a heart of gold. It would either top the charts or fail after the first season.

Not having much else to do as he waited, he texted the inane thought off to his agent.

Your writing leaves a lot to be desired. Stick to acting Qrow. Willow ordered.

He chuckled silently, replying: Is this why you gave your daughters such icy names? Because they were born from someone so cold?

Watch your tongue Branwen or I’ll tell Tommy Wiseau you want to co-star with him.

Ouch, I’ve got freezerburn.

I’m again questioning why I work with you.

You love me. He sent an obnoxious amount of kiss emojis along with it just to really annoy her.

She sent back swords. Ah, she was the best.  

He decided to leave her alone, switching over to one of his racing game apps and immersing himself in the competition. Every now and again, he’d catch sight of the girls in the corner of his eye. Ruby taking orders and checking on customers. Yang fetching refills or cleaning up. His red Alpine racer was just passing the finish line of the second race when Ruby was coming back.

“Here you go, the best meal in the house.” She set down the dish before him. It was an excellent presentation, like it came right out of a cooking magazine. The fry-battered steak was a light, golden brown, slathered with a brownish-white, peppered gravy. A generous helping of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and bright yellow corn, both flecked with more pepper, completed the meal. All of it was framed by the plate with its dark blue flower trim that made the colors pop and really sold the southern charm.

“Thanks kiddo.” He said, feeling his stomach grumble.

“Enjoy!” She hesitated, adding in a small rush, “Just um, call me if you need me!”

He unrolled his utensils as she hurried away, shaking his head. She was probably hoping he’d call her every five minutes, just so she’d have more of an excuse to talk to him. Poor kid probably thought she was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. He didn’t let it bother him. After all, everyone who’s ever sat down with an interview with him knew he was a terrible conversationalist.

He cut down into the steak, finding it came apart easily and was perfectly cooked through. He dripped the bottom in the gravy, twisted it around on his fork, said a silent prayer to his arteries, and took the first bite.

Oh.

Oh.

Holy Mother of Mary.

The fried breading crunched nicely but the steak practically melted into his mouth, combining with the gravy and a series of spices he couldn’t even begin to name but knew it was doing something wonderful to his taste buds.

He hummed happily. It was good. It was beyond good. As he cut another piece and took another bite, finding it as delectable as the last, he still couldn’t believe it. There was just no way anything could be this delicious.

He was over three-quarters of the way through the steak by the time Ruby came to check on him.

“Sooo,” She glanced at his plate then to him, smirking, “You like it, don’t you?”

“Don’t look so smug.” Qrow replied halfheartedly, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and hearing her fading giggle.

He didn’t get it though; with food like this, the place should be packed. If people could wait in line to get his autograph for six hours, then why couldn’t they wait a measly half hour for an incredible meal?

“Hey kid.” He said when Ruby came back around again, this time to collect his empty plate.

“Yeah?”

“We still got to take your picture. Any chance I can give my compliments to the chef while we’re at it?”

“If Yang can be in it too, you got yourself a deal.”

He chuckled. Should have expected that. “You got it.”

“Eeeee!” She squealed, hopping in excitement. “Okay, okay, let’s go now!”

He obliged, finding it hard to move at first. Wow, he was stuffed. He managed to follow Ruby to the back, seeing her wave her sister over before he was led through the double doors.

Walking into the kitchen was like walking backstage on a set – wherein the stage was just a collection of pieces meant to play their positions and what was behind the curtain was where the magic truly happened to bring it all together. But instead of sound design and lights, it was sizzling grills and knives chopping down. And instead of half a dozen people rushing about, there was only one. He was mincing up an onion with a swift finesse only the best of chefs had while singing along with a cassette player that was peddling out country tunes.

“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nooow.”

Singing badly, Qrow thought, cringing inwardly.

“Dad, no!” Ruby cried. Not even looking their way, the man just continued on, more loudly and off-key then before.

“Oh god, please smite me.” Yang groaned as she walked in, hiding her face in her hand.

Her sister raced across the room, pulling at his sleeve, hissing insistently. “Dad, we have company.”

“Meaning I have an audience that actually appreciates my performance?” His laughter was hearty as he peered over her head. The cutting stopped immediately. “U-Uhh…” Was all he managed to splutter before looking down at his daughter. “Uh?!”

“Told you he was here.” She said in a know-it-all sort of tone.

Used to this, Qrow just cleared his throat, introducing himself even if it felt a bit arbitrary. “Qrow Branwen. A pleasure to meet you.”

The man didn’t reply straight away, still taken aback by his very presence – or perhaps, from the faint lines of panic crinkling his brow, weighing over the fact he’d just served a celebrity without actually knowing it. Whatever it was, he seemed to catch his bearings, setting down his knife and crossing the kitchen. As he introduced himself in turn, he held out his hand, “Believe me, pleasure’s all mine. Name’s Taiyang Xiao Long.”

Xiao Long? Strange, he didn’t appear to have any Chinese in him, which likely meant he was married into the surname. At least now he really understood the restaurant’s title. Qrow shook his hand, surprised by the strong grip. He could feel the calluses built onto his hands from years of using cooking utensils.

“I apologize,” Taiyang said as he pulled back. “Had I taken my daughter’s word for it, I would have offered you a meal more extravagant. Or at the very least, some good wine.”

He had to keep himself from chuckling at the way Ruby stuck out her tongue at her dad’s back. “That’s alright. If I’m being honest, that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in quite some time.”

The chef’s cheeks turned a little rosy but his smile was just like his daughter’s, toothy and bright. “That’s mighty kind of you to say.” Heh, cute. He even talked like the aesthetic.

Before they could converse more, the ringing of a timer drew Taiyang’s attention. “Ah, pardon me.” He hurried to the stove, pausing only long enough to wash his hands.

“Sooooo,” Ruby stretched out the word as she slid back over, pulling out her phone. “Picture?”

“Wait, hold on!” Yang ripped off her hat, finger-combing through her golden locks. “Does my hair look okay?”

Her sister gave her a thumb’s up. “Like a rat’s nest. So yes- Ack!” She got smacked in the face with the hat.

“Girls, don’t be bothering him like that.” Their father chastised, stirring something in a large pot.

“We’re not!” Yang claimed.

He shook his head, but it was hard to tell if it was at her or at the soup he was tasting. “Really Mr. Branwen, you don’t have to.”

Ruby looked scandalized. “What?!”

“He owes us. I kept all the other customers away from him.” His eldest explained.

His head whipped around. “That’s worse! A man shouldn’t have to pay for his privacy!” As he pulled down some spices, he continued, “What you two ought to be doing is just appreciating the moment.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea dad. Now if only I had something to capture it with and keep it forever. Oh wait!” Ruby waved around her phone violently. “I DO!”

Unable to hold it in anymore, Qrow started to laugh. He was right; they would make a good sitcom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such interesting people.” He addressed the chef, “It’s alright, really. I did promise them.”

Taiyang opened his mouth to protest further, but another timer went off – how many did he have? – so he just said, “To each his own I suppose.” Before he turned to go check something in the oven.

Taking the opportunity for what it was, he held up his arms. “Alright, bring it in ladies.”

Ruby tossed her own hat next to Yang’s, giggling as his arm came around her shoulders. Yang was a little more uncomfortable, so he let his hand rest on her shoulder, above where he assumed her arm ended, and felt her relax almost instantly.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” They all smiled widely as the camera shutter clicked. They pulled away and Ruby looked it over to make sure it was good, before squealing happily. “Oh gosh it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re – oof! – welcome.” He huffed out when she nearly tackled him with a hug. He pat her back. “Now, I believe I promised an autograph too?”

She grinned hugely. “Right, yes!” She grabbed Yang, “Come on we got to find something for him to sign!” The two hurried to a small office, and he caught Ruby saying, “He could even sign your arm!”

“You think?” Yang’s voice faded to the background, overtaken by a loud sizzling.

As Qrow came as close as he dared, Taiyang said, “Thank you for this. You really made their year.” He was stirring the onion he had minced earlier around a nice heap of melting butter in a hot pan.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” He echoed.

“Still, it’s appreciated.” The burner was flipped off and the pan taken from the heat, but the onions continued to sauté.  “‘Fraid I can’t offer you much in compensation though, beyond giving you your meal free.”

He tilted his head. “Can you afford that?”

“Really, I insist. As they say, happiness is priceless.” Was the curt reply.

Only the rich say that. He scoffed at the obvious farce – not that Taiyang noticed as he turned away to attend to something else. Subtlety by words had never been his strong suit, and it wouldn’t be in the next five minutes either. So, he cut to the chase, “Listen bud, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know everything, but it’s pretty obvious from the state of this place to the lack of non-relative employees, that you’re not exactly in good standing.”

“An astute observation, but I don’t believe you needed to bring up all that just to make a case to pay for your meal.” He was back to chopping – this time, potatoes. Stubborn as a mule was a term invented for this guy, wasn’t it?

“It wasn’t.” Qrow assured. “It was a case to buy your restaurant.”

The knife chopped down so hard, it went right into the wood. Taiyang turned around to stare at him. A clatter to their left caught Qrow’s attention. The girls were both standing just outside of the office, the things they���d brought for him to sign now strewn across the ground.

No one spoke.

A beeping filled the air, and still no one spoke.

“Uh. Timer?” He said, awkwardly.

Taiyang seemed to blink out of whatever daze he was in. He came forward, almost aggressively enough that Qrow tried not to shrink back, but the other man only reached over his shoulder to turn off the timer, side-eyeing him as he walked away.

“Really?” Ruby’s small but hopeful voice shook the tense air.

Yang’s was more suspicious. “You do know you’re buying a failing business, right?”

He offered the duo a smile. “Won’t be failing when I’m done with it. This place just needs a bit of sprucing up. More staff. Maybe a new location-”

Slam! Went a cooking sheet on the countertop.

“No.” Taiyang said rigidly.

Unperturbed, Qrow carried on. “Alright, no new location. Kind of a bad move but I can work with that. But the name has got to-”

“Stop.” He commanded. “Do not treat me like a fool. I may not have grown up here, but I learned rather quickly that folks around here will do a lot for 15 minutes of fame. I will not allow you to do the same to my family.”

“What, dad-!” Yang started

“Can’t you just-!” Ruby spoke over her.

“Quiet, both of you!” He bellowed, before turning his back to them, grabbing some tongs to turn the racks of ribs around a bit more aggressively then needed. “The answer is no, and that’s final. Now, I will thank you kindly to take your empty offer and walk it out the door.”

When the girls started to raise protest again, Qrow was the one to silence them this time, raising a finger to his lips, before he took a few steps closer to the chef. “Believe me when I say the offer is not empty. Your daughter over there tells me how much this place meant to you when you first got it, but now you’re letting it rot under your feet. Is that really how you want it to go out?” The other man’s jaw clenched and he refused to look at him. He took that as a good sign, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you and your family.”

For his efforts, a set of tongs were shoved so close to his face, they almost touched his nose.

Behind the makeshift weapon, Taiyang’s eyes bored into his own. He spoke steady and sharp, “Mr. Branwen, I will say this once and only once. I have put everything I got, my entire heart and soul, into this restaurant. It is the only thing I have for my girls and I am NOT about to gamble it away on some publicity stunt to stroke a rich man’s ego. So, you ask me to believe you? Then come back with a lawyer and a contract full of terms we both agree on, as I will settle for nothing less. Am I understood?”

The storm brewing in those blue eyes didn’t intimidate him, because this close, he could see the dark circles etching a deep exhaustion around them. The mark of a person desperate and at the end of their rope. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Qrow could tell that he was a good man, as well as aggravatingly hardheaded.

“Got it.” He told him, reaching into his pocket to fetch his shades. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”

As he pulled them on and turned away, he thought perhaps he heard Tai give some biting remark about how tomorrow, perhaps he’d be offered the moon. But he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he crossed over to where the girls still stood, frozen – but unlike their father, they did nothing to hide the tentative hope on their faces.

Qrow lent down, fetching the sharpie and two sheets of paper, using a nearby counter to pen out the autographs. He even took the time to add his signature calligraphy, making the tail of the Q look like a feather. He offered each one in turn, “Ruby, Yang. Thank you for the pleasant experience.”

Yang was slow to take hers, as if she might say something. In the end she only thanked him.

Contrastingly, Ruby’s vibrancy was back, an almost nervous energy pitching her tone as she quickly offered to walk him to the door. It didn’t take him long to figure out why, as she hid her face in her treasured autograph and groaned. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s just so, so, embarrassing!”

“He’s not so bad.” He refuted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Against his fingertips, he felt the buzz from his phone signaling an incoming message – no doubt An letting him know she’d arrived. “He’s playing it smart. Even I don’t do a job without a contract.”

“Still, he could have been more polite.”

Her tone allowed no argument, so he didn’t bother to tell her that for him, it was actually a refreshing change of pace. He had all sorts of people tripping over themselves to fawn at his feet and, while some celebrities ate up all that attention, Qrow had certainly never been one of them. It was nice being talked to like an equal – a privilege often reserved only to his closest coworkers and manager.

There was also just something so honestly genuine about Tai. Call it simple intuition, but he knew what it took to play all sorts of characters and he could say without a doubt that the blond wouldn’t be able to fool a preschooler if he tried. He was the kind of man who hid nothing and wore his emotions right on his sleeve.

Qrow, who shuttered his behind fake smiles and sunglasses all day, could really appreciate a quality like that.

“It was really amazing to meet you.” Ruby said as she pulled open the front door for him. “Like, as in the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-me amazing.”

“You’re setting the standard pretty high there, considering it won’t be the last time you see me.” Qrow said, stepping outside.

Her expression lifted, her youth seeing to shine through in her eyes. “You mean, you’re really coming back? Ever after dad was, well, a total jerkwad?”

“Well, you know what they say. You feed a crow once, and it’ll come back to roost.” He pulled down his sunglasses, enough to wink at her. “See you ‘round kiddo.”

“Y-Yeah! See you! Thank you so much, Mr. Branwen!”

He was pretty sure she waved after his car long after it left the street.

~

Three days would pass before Qrow would return to the Dragon’s Den. Like a knight readying for battle, he stood in front of the door over an hour before opening time.

When Tai finally arrived, he almost dropped his keys in the gutter at the mere sight of him.

“Why hello thar pardner.” Qrow drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”

For a moment, he just stared blankly. But finally, a snort escaped him. “You need to do more westerns if that’s the best you got, pardner.” He stepped forward, adding more softly, “You, came back.”

He nodded. “’Fraid I don’t have the moon to offer you, but I got the next best thing.”

Taking his cue, the gentlemen standing nearby fixed up his tie and strode forward. “Mr. Xiao Long? I’m Hei Xiong. I work in property management. It’s my understanding Mr. Branwen here would like to strike a deal with you.”

“Does he now?” That same bite Qrow’d heard in the kitchen was back, the blonde’s hackles already raised. Not missing a beat, Hei ruffled through a few papers in his folder, pulling out the top one to show him. Tai read it aloud. “Claim of co-ownership?”

“Yes. Mr. Branwen is interested in becoming your business partner.” The manager supplied.

“…Does he now?” He echoed as he looked towards Qrow, but the fiery attitude he’d expelled like a shield had doused some.

“We would be happy to discuss it in more detail this morning, if you’ve available?” Hei asked.

Anticipation held Qrow’s breath and anxiety jumped his heart as he waited for the other man’s response.

For the second time, he was rewarded with another of Tai’s bright and toothy grins. “I certainly am.” He stepped past them both and opened the door to the Den. “Please come in.”

[kittensjonsa]

Otherwise, Engaged

A Jonsa Proposal AU with a slight deviation from the original.

Summary: Sansa chose ambition over her heart. Jon chooses his heart over everything else. Choices, choices. Tsk.

A 'let's kiss and make up' fluff chapter with an unexpected twist, after the tacky angst in the previous one (lol sorry, story just wrote itself that way). Rated PG. No smut yet, all good things come to those who wait!

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Chapter 8

“This..just doesn't feel right.. I can't do that to you.”

The words replayed in her mind over and over. Maybe he was drunk. People do and say stupid things when they're drunk.

Yet, Jon had managed to make her feel worse than all the shit he had wrung her through the past three years put together. Something's wrong with me. It was disheartening, watching Jon recoil, so taken aback by the thought of them together. So repelled that he sobered right up.

The sting of tears made their rounds again. That idiot. The bastard. Stop crying. Jon was a coward, afraid of any accountability if something did go further than just a kiss. A vodka-laden kiss Sansa could still taste on her lips.

If I hate him, like I always have.. then why do I feel so miserable?

Truth of the matter was, it was a slice of heaven, being kissed so fiercely and touched.. like that. Sansa liked it, against her better judgement. What was she thinking? Jon was right, it could have gone badly and tossed them deeper in hot water. The situation was tough enough as it was and sex - as much as Sansa wanted it, or the idea of it, wasn't quite in the script like she had planned. Sex always complicates things, she read once in a women's magazine article. Throw in the boss and assistant cliché to the mix, Sansa can kiss goodbye to a career she had toiled for three vacation-less years.

Adding salt to the wound, it had already come at a great cost in the shape of a non-existent personal life. If it counted, Jon had been the only man she had ever been in a relationship with, her first and longest too, if she could call it that. Also, if a relationship meant spending hours and hours together reading manuscripts, taking notes and eating take outs in the office. It was pathetic. But it was the closest she could get to one. Meeting people? Hah. Love life? Sigh..nope. 

Growing up, Sansa had always been a planner, and it was a good plan she had ever since she was twelve - study hard, get good grades, work in the city, write a book, meet someone and marry. All this, before thirty. Of course, real life stepped in and slapped her in the face in the form of a boss called Jon Snow who stomped on all over that plan when the truth stared her in the face - she had spent her entire first year of work attending to the whims of a madman. For a sad moment, Sansa would forever cringe to remember, her future looked bleak.

Though, never one to give up so easily, she trudged on, love and happiness aside, towards building her career. Besides, the opportunity for love and marriage rarely reared its head. Sansa could only blame herself for that; it had always been about family, studies and work for Sansa ever since she could remember. She kept consoling herself, how there were better opportunities out there and devoted her time and energy to finding them, staying positive and upbeat no matter what. Mormont & Sons Publishing was one of those bright opportunities, and Sansa was over the moon when she received the email for an interview. 

She just had no idea what was in store for her. But Sansa often reminded herself how this was her ticket in, the launching pad for her future in writing. And every year, meant a step closer to that goal. Sansa learned all she could, observed everyone she met in the industry and played nice. It would be hers to reap one day. And how she vowed to never let it out of her grasp, how she would absolutely do all she can to get to where she wanted. One fine day.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

“I don't think they'll be back so soon, Sans. You know how it is, whenever they go out fishing,” Robb's voice leapt within earshot.

“Huh.. oh, no.. I was just-”

“What.. doing yoga?” Robb teased as he joined her on the bench.

Sansa stuck out her tongue at him. Only Robb knew where to find her, at her favourite spot, a stone bench that had the whole Winterfell lake in view.

“You and Jon.. everything okay? Want to talk about it? ”

“Oh god. Please tell me you didn't hear us,” Sansa groaned, shooting a worried glance at her brother.

“No, I didn't but I did see how fast he got out of the house. With that look of his,” Robb said, as he tried his best to mimic Jon's broody countenance.

“I hate him.”

Robb chuckled. “No you don't. Well.. I mean you guys act a little funny but I wouldn't call it hate.”

“Yeah, right. And you would be the expert,” Sansa scoffed. Trust her big brother to dish out misplaced relationship advice.

“You, my dear sister, could never hate someone. If you do, it's only because on the flip side, you feel very strongly about it. Love and hate, takes a lot of feelings.”

Feelings. Sansa wanted to laugh. What feelings? He doesn't have any.

“Yeah, well, I hate him. He's just… arghhh.”

“Does he know you hate him?”

“Well, now he does.”

“Hmm. Seems one sided to me. I don't think he hates you back, sorry to say.”

All this after just a day of meeting Jon, was impossible to fathom.

“Yeah well.. he made it pretty clear he didn't want me. Or anything to do with me,” Sansa said, quietly.

Robb raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Did he say that?”

“Well not out loud. I just.. got the vibe, I guess. Maybe he thinks I'm gross.”

“Really, Sansa? What are you, twelve? He does not think that way. Come on. Three years with someone, I think it's more than just 'vibes'.”

“What, you and Lisa don't get vibes from each other?”

Robb shrugged. “Define vibes. I can tell exactly what she's thinking just by a look. Which by the way, aren't 'vibes'. That's being in a relationship and knowing your partner.”

Well, Jon doesn't care about that.

“Yeah.. it would take a hundred years for him to even care about how I feel, let alone know just by a single look.. so pardon me, if I don't have my hopes up.”

Robb glanced at her and rested his elbows on his lap. “Maybe you don't see it. Yet.”

“See what? I don't think Jon's that type though.”

“The sensitive type? Maybe. But from the way he looks at you, I don't know but I'd say he's trying at least.”

Sansa frowned at the statement. Maybe it's a guy thing. Solidarity and shit. Or maybe the advice wasn't be so misplaced after all. So, Sansa was willing to listen.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Robb chuckled. For someone claiming to be a romantic, Sansa was clueless as they come.

“He looks at you like how Dad looks at Mom. I've seen it. Every time. And man, I hope that's how I look at Lisa, too. Hard to believe Jon doesn't care. Because, I think he does.. more than he lets on.”

The talk wasn't making any sense. What happened an hour ago was so different from what Robb claimed Jon was capable of, it was hard to believe.

“Look, I've heard a lot about him. Not so nice things and frankly, I was expecting some jerk showing up at our doorstep.. but he isn't one. Surprised me.”

“You clearly don't know him,” Sansa protested.

“True. But I know guys and he's just one of those big softies. With a hard outer shell, you know. Must be tough meeting our family, I get it,” Robb chuckled.

“Well, he didn't have a choice now did he?”

Now that the government is hot on our trail.

“No, but he did have a choice. I mean, he's a big shot editor right? Or something like that, what Dad told me. Why would he be here when he could be busy making it rain back in the city? Schmoozing with the big names and whoever's the It person of the month. But did he? No. He chose you over that, coming here to Northern country. And going fishing with Dad? Props to him. Being nice to Mom, even though we can all see how much she hates his guts? Wow. And for coming to Gramp's birthday too. If he's such an asshole like you claim he is, why make all this effort?”

Fiancé visa. It's all an act. That's why. Sansa wanted to scream, to tell Robb the actual truth. But it would ruin everything. Not to mention, implicating him as well. Best if no one knew at all.

“Listen, you always sit here when you're in a rut. Is it something so bad that you can't fix?” Robb finally asked the right question. Committing a felony. Bad enough?

“I would tell you but.. it's between me and Jon. We'll figure it out.”

Robb placed an arm around her and pulled her in for a hug as he rested his chin on her head. “Of course you will. You're Sansa freaking Stark. You always do.”

Sansa rested her head on her big brother's chest. It was warm and cozy and been a while since she had done so.

“I just wish some things were.. different.”

“We all wish for that, don't we? But this is all we've got and we just have to make the best of it, Sans. And I'm sure Jon will too. Life and lemons sort of thing. He's like this 'run-with-it' kind of guy. Which is all right. Reliable, I give him that. Besides, he doesn't seem the type.”

There it was again. The great Jon puzzle. Robb seemed to know a lot more about Jon that she thought she did.

“The type of what?”

Robb smiled at her, wondering if these two were actually a couple. ���The type who doesn't take advantage. You know, so he doesn't screw up a good thing. Not many guys like that. And he'd better be if he's engaged to my sister.”

The thought hadn't crossed her mind. That, instead of thinking how she drove him away, perhaps it really was Jon trying to control himself. For once, the words 'respect' and 'Jon' were in the same sentence, as Sansa considered the alternative.

“Thanks.. Robb.” Sansa sighed as they both sat, looking out onto the lake listening quietly to the waves gently sloshing against the dock.

It was dusk when Sansa heard her brothers and father shuffle through the kitchen with the day's catch but Jon was nowhere to be seen. Avoiding, of course.

Sansa ignored the feeling and went on setting the table. It was going to be a great dinner with everyone she loved and maybe her last together before heading back to the city, the prospect of imprisonment looming heavily over her head. Whatever happens, she was going to enjoy the dinner, with or without Jon. He's on his own now.

“Hey everyone. Hi.. honey,” Sansa heard Jon greet the family and her, as soon as he made his entrance.

In usual Stark fashion, everyone, save for her mother, welcomed him back warmly, especially her father, who was now smiling ear to ear regaling the rest of how Jon helped to reel in a particularly large and stubborn trout and almost falling overboard in the process. Her father even sounded quite impressed by the whole thing. Sansa munched on her green beans quietly as Jon walked over and sat next to her.

“Sansa.. hey. I thought you'd be in your room-”

And what, wait for you? Boy, he's got a lot to learn in this house.

“Nope, was helping with dinner. You know, since it might be my last and all.. if we're going to jail.” mumbled Sansa, aiming her side eye at him with scorn.

Jon sighed and turned to his plate. It alarmed him realising how distressed he was, watching Sansa get visibly upset with him. I thought girls didn't like to pushed into that sort of thing. Jon knew nothing, absolutely zero of the female psyche.

It was unnerving and such a marked difference from the Sansa he was used to. But that was work, he had to remind himself. This.. this is not work. He'd be a fool to dismiss this as 'just work' and nothing else. It was a deal between them, he’d play his part and so would she. And in just one day, in spite of themselves, managed to turn it into something quite complicated.

Jon admitted he wasn't very skilled in the art of courtship and wooing, it had been years since he did any of it. But if it was one thing he knew about women, was that a great grand gesture would easily smoothen any rough patches in a relationship before being tended to carefully. Or so, he thought. At least he hoped that information was still relevant. And if there was still some semblance of a 'relationship' or whatever it was between them left to save. 

Regardless, he'd take the risk. Don't all heroes do, take the risk and save the day because he believes in love. Love, he smiled. What an idea. Then again, if there was anything the weekend was close to showing him, was that, for the longest time since his parents passed, Jon felt something deep inside of him slowly stirring to life, a strange magnetic pull he couldn’t ignore. It was heavy yet light as the warmth began to settle gently on his chest. 

So.. that's how it feels like.

Sansa kept to herself and mostly listened to everyone else's conversations over dinner. There was a lengthy discussion on Gramp's actual birthday party the following day and her family had decided on a list of party games for the guests to play. It was the big eight zero after all.

“Hey Sansa.. can we talk? Later after dinner?”

Sansa leaned back and sighed. If Robb was right, why was Jon taking such a long time to fix whatever it was that broke between them? As much as she wanted to share the faith Robb had in Jon, she just didn't see it. And it frustrated her to no end.

“What's there to talk about? You made it abundantly clear.”

“Well, I still haven't made my point yet but I think I know how. If only you'll let me. Please.”

Sansa was tired of thinking over and over about the 'point' Jon so desperately needed to make. She didn't care anymore and only gave a nonchalant shrug and returned to her plate, deliberately avoiding Jon's gaze.

Right.. okay then. For the first time, he felt invisible. 

“Uhh.. everyone.. I.. I have an announcement to make,” Jon slowly stood up at the table, the family quietening down as they looked on. Sansa's jaw dropped. Shit. He's going to tell everyone. How dare he? Sansa's heart almost stopped a beat. Don't do it!

“As you know.. Sansa and I, we're here to meet the family because, well..we got engaged.”

Oh my god. Jon.. don’t do it please. But Sansa didn’t make a sound.

“And what a lovely weekend it has been and such great pleasure meeting you all.”

Oh. My. God.

“And I know it's such short notice but it wouldn't feel right if I didn't take the time to do this. Especially with her family around. And.. I hope you all don't mind because I have something to say.”

Sansa wanted to scream, mortified at the thought of her family finding out the truth. But the cry froze in her throat - the horror, the embarrassment, the thought of talking to them through a glass screen. No. No, I won't let it! 

Sansa tried to breathe as normally as she could, one half of her was dangling on the edge of a full blown panic attack, while the other was stuck paralysed in a dining chair. She knew the panic attacks would come for her one day. And it did -what timing it was, on the day of her ruin in the hands of her sadist boss, before her own family. She couldn't watch nor listen and shut her eyes as she gave in, her body rigid with fear taking over almost completely. She absolutely refused to go through with it, she was guilty and there was no way she could face the angry and disappointed looks from her family, let alone the lectures. Sorry, Daddy.

That's it. We're done. Jon, you fucker!

But then.. everyone gasped. A giggle and an excited squeal had Sansa slowly opening her eyes. Her breathing was still ragged and Sansa knew she was minutes away from hyperventilating.

“Sansa?”

Sansa turned to a Jon kneeling before her and her entire family, holding up a shiny diamond and sapphire ring.

“Wha.. what?”

“I know you didn't plan for this but.. you deserve this. This is it. We're a team. You and I. I'm not going to let you go down for me, for this mess I’ve put you in. I won't let you.” Jon whispered quietly, his face softening, showing a different Jon than the one she knew.

“Will you...marry me?”

Sansa stared at the ring, in disbelief. Jon fidgeted nervously, seeing how quiet she was. Speechless. And the rapid blinking, worried him a little too. Sansa didn’t look too good as he noticed the beads of sweat rapidly dotting her forehead.

Sansa tried her best. She tried to breathe and calm herself down but nothing seemed to work. There was shouting in her head, alarms were blaring left and right. Is this a joke? Fuck! But there were no alarms - just her heart pounding so hard, Sansa couldn't hear anything else. The stares from her family waiting in silence only made it harder to breathe again. It wasn't supposed to be like this.. I’m going to prison...

Seconds passed like hours as everything around her moved in slow motion. Sansa felt her jaw slacken and her vision began to blur. The only word she could muster - was just one syllable long.

“Huh?”

Then, it all went black.

[shijiujun]

[3/14/20] History2: Crossing the Line | Right or Wrong - White Day Extras

So it was White Day yesterday and Lin Peiyu, the screenwriter for CTL and Right or Wrong, released some scenes she wrote in the past for both on her Facebook page. I translated it quickly (even though I’m not really in the CTL fandom BUT!!!) so enjoy guys!!!

Her message: “I suddenly realised it was White Day today, so here’s a small little gift~ This is a small little epilogue I wrote a long, long time ago.”

Read below for more goodness on Yu Hao/Zi Xuan, Yi Jie/Sheng Zhe, and even Zhen Wen/Zhen Wu *screams*

---

A season of blooming phoenix flowers - To the boys in their youthful days

It’s the peak of summer in June when phoenix flowers bloom, and the bright rays of sun light are as vibrant as the flowers, heating up the air. This cannot, however, hide the passion of those attending the graduation ceremony.

On this day, some people are here but have other motives in mind, and to be frank, these people are here simply to create trouble. One such person is Shi Yi Jie, who has grown into a middle-aged, jealous man.

“I already told you that it was my junior’s graduation ceremony…”

“I know, he just wanted to thank you for taking care of him during your school years.”

“I did spend a bit more effort on him…”

“Xiao Fei xuezhang!*” He Cheng En’s voice interrupts their conversation.

The both of them look towards the person speaking just in time to see a man with a buzz cut and a sunny disposition running towards them, an expression of warmth on his face.

Shi Yi Jie appraises the other subtly with a few looks, then secretly clenches his fist in victory. He wins! As to what he won… that’s something that probably only he knows.

This is the first time in a long while the two are meeting, and the first thing that Fei Sheng Zhe says when he sees He Cheng En is: “Why is your second button missing?”

“Of course I have to reserve such an important thing and make a booking** for my girlfriend,” He Cheng En says, smug.

“Booking? Why’s that?”

“Xuezhang~ If you’re this unromantic, how are you going to live the rest of your life?”

This young man has a bright future ahead of him, Shi Yi Jie thinks. He looks at his young lover and says, “Did you hear that?”

Fei Sheng Zhe rolls his eyes at him.

He Cheng En doesn’t see their interaction and little moves, and instead points at the spot where his second button should be, that is now empty and left only with some thread.

“The second button has to be given to someone you like!”

“Why is it the second button?” Shi Yi Jie asks, curious.

Unlike Fei Sheng Zhe who just can’t be bothered with traditions like this, Shi Yi Jie is an old man who simply doesn’t understand the teeming world of the youth and the small little romantic gestures that come in these budding relationships.

“It’s nearest to the heart, what did you think it was for?”

“I see…”

Shi Yi Jie, with a stoic expression, looks idly towards Fei Sheng Zhe who’s standing next to him, and zooms in on the buttons on his light blue shirt without saying another word.

===

Outside the assembly hall, Xia Yu Hao jogs over, his eyes scanning through the mass of people leaving the hall as  he looks for the person he loves.

“Qiu Zi Xuan!” Xia Yu Hao finds his target and speeds towards Qiu Zi Xuan, who has his back faced towards him, “Give me your second button…”

At the last three words, he turns Qiu Zi Xuan over, and the moment they’re facing each other, Xia Yu Hao shouts and accuses, “Where’s the button!”

He glares at a uniform-clad Qiu Zi Xuan in disbelief, because on his white shirt, there’s not even a single button left!

Qiu Zi Xuan’s handsome face flushes pink, as if someone has done something to him***.

“You… your shirt…”

Before Qiu Zi Xuan can even say anything, the girls and boys surrounding them help him to answer.

“I’ll treasure your button, I love you~”

“Thank you for your lucky button~”

“Xuezhang, I’ll take your button and bring it to the finals! Wait for me!”

Xia Yu Hao glares at the bunch of robbers running off with their prizes, and inside he hears voices mocking him, continuously spitting at him.

Fuck- Xia Yu Hao is pissed, jealousy burning through his mind when he usually doesn’t have much rationality left, and he moves to go after what belongs to him.

“Don’t cause any trouble,” Qiu Zi Xuan finally speaks, and these simple four words are just like tight reins, keeping his junior rooted to the spot.

“They snatched away what belongs to me!”

Qiu Zi Xuan frowns, “Those belong to me.”

“They stole your things!” Xia Yu Hao obediently corrects.

“Those are just buttons.”

“Those are your graduation buttons!”

Xia Yu Hao angrily bites are his lips, he knows that Qiu Zi Xuan doesn’t have any penchant for romantic gestures, but he does! The second graduation button should be left for the person you like! He’s pissed!

Qiu Zi Xuan considers Xia Yu Hao’s furious expression, sighs, then caresses at his junior’s hair (which is a little hard), and in the end, he cannot bear to tease him for too long. “Here.”

As he says that, he pulls Xia Yu Hao’s hand to him, “The second one.”

A small white button is placed into Xia Yu Hao’s palm that is flushed red from anger.

Xia Yu Hao freezes, staring at the button in his palm incredulously, then looks at Qiu Zi Xuan.

Qiu Zi Xuan pushes at his glasses, a little uncomfortable with all the staring, and lies, “My sister wanted me to take it down first.”

“You…. sister complex!”

Qiu Zi Xuan frowns, “Is that a problem, you mommy’s boy!”

The both of them glare at each other and can’t hep but recall that day in the infirmary. There was a time long ago when they would insult each other like this, and then they walked into each other’s worlds, and after… they crossed that invisible line between them.

The wind gently rustles the leaves of the phoenix flower tree. The both of them smile, as if they are the only ones left in the whole world.

===

Somewhere not far away from the hall, Wang Zhen Wen looks at the crowd milling about and changes his mind on joining in the fun and cheer.

Turning around, he says to Wang Zhen Wu, “We should go back to the club and wait for them.”

“Hnn,” Wang Zhen Wu nods in reply.

“Today the xuezhangs are graduating, later during the celebration remember that you have to say something.”

“Say what?” Wang Zhen Wu questions, confused.

“Just things like… they’ve got a bright future ahead of them, that they’ve got limitless possibilities in their futures, that kind of thing.”

“Then… congratulations on graduating?”

“…. that works too,” Wang Zhen Wen suddenly thinks of something, and looks at him, serious. “You should really practice saying more. You’re so awkward like this, not talking much… Dad is very concerned.”

He brings his hand up to his face, and dramatically tries to wipe at his tearless eyes. However, Wang Zhen Wu catches his hand and says, “You’re my younger brother, not my dad!”

“… I was just joking.”

The brothers descend into awkward silence at their lack of chemistry.

Wang Zhen Wu caresses gently at the hand gripped in his palm and says, “Not funny.”

Wang Zhen Wen shivers slightly at the feeling of being soothed, and says, “Ge…”****

The moment is interrupted by some female students giggling as they walk past them, “You got his second button?”

“Hnn…”

“He must like you then, otherwise why would he give it to you?”

“Do you think so too?”

“Yeah, the second button has to be given to the person you like…”

Their laughter fades as they leave, but their conversation piques Wang Zhen Wen’s interest and his eyes follow the two girls as they move away. Suddenly, his jaw throbs in pain as Wang Zhen Wu turns his face back to look at him.

“What?” He looks at Wang Zhen Wu in confusion, and in the next moment, his eyes widen in shock, “You… What are you doing?”

Wang Zhen Wu is picking Wang Zhen Wen’s shirt buttons off like he would grapes.

Wang Zhen Wen quickly presses at his hand, “We’ve still got another year to graduation!”

Isn’t he too impatient? Wang Zhen Wu then locks both of Wang Zhen Wen’s hands behind him, and with his free hand, he continues to pluck off Wang Zhen Wen’s shirt buttons.

“First come first serve,” Wang Zhen Wu says evenly with determination, his hand movements not stopping.

“The second button is enough-“

He’s interrupted again as Wang Zhen Wu takes off all his buttons, and looks at Wang Zhen Wen, “Mine. They’re all mine.”

Wang Zheng Wen looks at him in astonishment, and a moment later, the ends of his lips curve, and he ends up laughing loudly. Wang Zhen Wu frowns, not understanding why his younger brother is laughing. He’s very frustrated, very angry now, can’t his brother tell?

===

Fei Sheng Zhe serves the last dish and shouts in the direction of the living room and bedroom, “You You, Shi Yi Jie, it’s time for dinner~”

“I’m here!” You You jumps onto the her chair happily, and when she doesn’t see Shi Yi Jie, she shouts towards the bedroom, “Daddy! It’s time for dinner!”

“You guys eat first,” comes Shi Yi Jie’s muffled reply from the room.

Fei Sheng Zhe doesn’t understand why this man has been stuck in the bedroom looking for something ever since they both returned from his junior’s graduation ceremony. Unable to resist, Fei Sheng Zhe reminds You You not to be fussy about her food, then walks into the room, only to see Shi Yi Jie messing up the closet.

“What are you looking for?”

“Nothing, you eat first.”

“I can help you…”

Before he can finish his sentence, Fei Sheng Zhe is interrupted by a kiss.

“You go eat first, be good,” Shi Yi Jie lightly caresses at his sensitive ears, “Unless… you want to eat me first?”

“… I’m going to eat dinner.”

Fei Sheng Zhe is a bit more experienced now, but he still cannot compare to a seasoned flirter like Shi Yi Jie, and so he decides to follow what he saw in the Battle of Dunkirk, and retreats.

Shi Yi Jie heaves a sigh of relief, and now that he’s dealt with his lover, he suddenly thinks of something. He closes the door and takes his phone out, making a call.

“Juan-jie, did you happen to keep Sheng Zhe’s high school uniform?”

“Not only high school, but elementary, middle schools and even kindergarten uniforms I still have, they’re all memories…” Juan-jie’s voice is gentle and warm as she reminisces on how cute her son was when he was younger, then she squints, and asks with suspicion, “Why’re you asking this?”

“Nothing… this weekend we’ll go over, You You misses you,” Shi Yi Jie says, his expression like that of a predator seeing his prey, revealing the edge of someone who’s determined to get what he wants.

---

Notes: 

*xuezhang - senior **booking - she used the word her in english, and it’s kind of like a chinese/english way of saying ‘reserve’ ***this is literally translated, i myself have no idea what she means by someone did something to him but i suppose it’s in idk a flirty way ****ge - older brother

[lastcrystalwitch]

Feeling Guilty Taking Time for Myself

When there are many things that need to get done, sometimes it seems like I am looking at a to-do list that is never going to end. I attempt to run around the house, studious and determined, to meet the day with expectations that I will have a cleaner house vs. the mess that it was previously in. I just need to remind myself that doing a little bit every day will get me to the cleanliness level that I am so desperately searching for.

I grew up middle-upper class. My mother was a house wife, and took great pride in keeping the house clean. Even if I go over there now it is spotless.

This means I grew up with a discipline system that when you made a mess, you were criticized, punished, or scrutinized. Needless to say, it is ingrained in me that success comes from being clean, neat and tidy. When dishes aren't piled in the sink, there will be no excuse for bugs to take up residence. When I lived in Arizona in with an ex who liked to have parties and friends over who never picked up after themselves, forced me to deal with infestations of cockroaches. Much to my horror and the irreverence of my ex-husband and his roommate who left pizza boxes half way piled to the ceiling. Not only was I unappreciated, but I was busy. I worked two jobs and went to school full time, paying most of the rent and paying for my college and his. I put him through school. I wonder if he ever got off his entitled ass and put in the hard work and got his degree? I was not respected, appreciated, and my needs were never put first unless I put them first.

2012 was a horror show.

I have lived in filth, much to my dismay and been completely out of my control from people moving in animals who had fleas, and possibly parvo, and have payed over a grand fixing my mom's house infested with fleas because of other people who brought their pets over my house and infected my pets. I have been the one, time and time again, to self sacrifice myself to help others, fix others problems, clean up their messes. Now that I am older, and wiser, I am learning what it is that makes me tick. And for me its unacceptable for others not to help out.

But I have to change. I have to be able to tell others that they have to help instead of just expecting them to pick up a broom and get to work. I just don't want to sound like a nagging person. But I realize that others simply don't have the same priorities that I do. And this is a difficult pill to swallow, kind of. Never assume that someone knows how you feel. How can they? People can't read minds. You can read a room. You can read someone's body language. But unless you let them tell you what the hell is going on inside their head, you can only assume. And circular thoughts of assumptions lead to misunderstandings. Lack of communication period will break up a relationship.

I need to get better at saying what I want. What I need, and what I expect. That is what has made trouble in the past with roommates. I just have such an ungodly fear of hurting other people's feelings. A real fear that is as real for me as a natural disaster is real to the residences of that area. This debilitating fear of rejection, and fear of disappointing others can no longer be an excuse for me not to move forward with growing as an individual. And self reflection takes a lot of time. It takes a lot of work. But if we never strive to get better ... we never will.

But I've had only 25% control of the cleanliness of my house so far. With myself usually being the only person who cleans out of the 4 people who used to be there, its easy to feel out of control, hopeless, constantly stepping on wires, dirt, dust, and trash and dirt absolutely out of control. I was the only person cleaning routinely for the past 2 years basically. No one else seems to put cleanliness as a priority except for me. It simply felt like no one cared. And I thought no one cared on purpose. That they didn't care about me. I thought that since the house was never cleaned, it was all up to me.

But at what cost?

Its possible to keep a spotless home, or at the very least a tidy home, but everyone has to be on board.

Oh. And did I mention? My house has been a construction zone for the past two years with people constantly moving in and out of it. I helped purchase the house, but I have had zero control over the residents.

I grew up with a manipulative narrsacistic mother, a misunderstood dad who was never there because he was always at work, and a single brother who turned to bullying as a way to deal with what he was going through growing up. There were always feelings of I am not good enough. I am not a good enough student. I am not a good enough daughter. I was always trying to please others, and dealt with more mental abuse than you can shake a stick at. Its enough that I wrote journal after journal so I'd never forget about the unfairness exacted on me, horrific stories that would make you want to put your fist through the wall.

The bullying and constantly being told that my emotions and thoughts were wrong, and then told how I should be thinking, forced me into thoughts that self harm and mutilation is acceptable. Its really not okay to be treated that way. Because if I'm not doing something right I should be punished. I have since identified this as an irrational thought. But this was just a dip into my past reality. No one can ever scream at me and abuse me the way that I have done to myself. Because I expect it now. Before, I was okay with that. That was normal for me.

When I GTFO of my moms house in 2007, she called the cops on me because she thought, correctly, that I was running away. For me, it always takes someone else who cares about me, to tell me, no. The way that your mom treated you was wrong. My friends have told me, previous boyfriends, and even their entire families have told me what an abusive dysfunctional family I have suffered through as I was raised.

You know what makes me laugh? My mom is so caught up in herself that she cannot see how she's hurt me. She tells me that my previous boyfriends manipulated me and brainwashed me into thinking that she was the bad guy. Which wasn't true. I ran because I needed to get the hell out of toxicity at any cost or I was going to cut too deep one day and that would have been the end of it. Had I stayed in that situation. There was so much injustice that I was suffering, that when my chance came to not only get a college degree and move forward with my own life, I took it. Moving out in the middle of the night, not telling my mom where I was going. Getting married so that I could put myself through college, which I did. Taking my favorites with me and gaining guardianship of my best friend who was 16, and moving her out of a toxic situation as well. I picked everyone up that I cared about, and with the three grand that I had saved from working Monday-Friday since I was 15, I took others with me. I helped others start their life over. I helped give myself and others, that second chance that they were so desperately in need of. I saved a life. And I will never take that back or change my mind that leaving the best decision that I ever made in my life.

With one roommate out the door for new beginnings, and the second one about to venture off on great adventures, I will have only two weeks to have the house to myself for the first time since I bought it two years ago. My life partner and I will be alone in the house with just our pets, and dreams. I am greatly looking forward to it.

I plan to clean the house spotless before his family moves back in with us, two weeks after everyone has left. Honestly though I am very excited to have his family stay with us. His sister is super smart, retired Navy, and has a brilliant mind that is second to none. Her husband is a happy go lucky go getter that doesn't mind sacrificing a day to help me go run errands. He is able to keep most of the things on my list in his head, and its amazing because this means that I'm not forgetting a butt ton at the store. Their daughter is a cunning little angel. She's super smart. 4? I think?

I'd really like to take them to a park once it warms up and do some professional photos for them. They have a beautiful family! And some of the kindest coolest people I've ever met.

His sister is interesting to talk to. She has a mindset that is very different than mine, and very logical based, where I have a very intuition based mindset. She illuminates points of view, that are refreshing, feministic, and not selfish, but thinking of yourself first, which is what I am trying to work on.

My brother in law once told me I needed to stop being passive aggressive. I'm working on that.

I think his sister is a very good role model for me, and I look up to her because my brain is always flooded with how I can take care of everyone else, and while she has a kind heart and good morals, she always looks out for herself and family first. This is different than what I do, which I'd like to change. Because It is difficult for me to think of myself first at all. Except the bare minimum.

For people like me, I have heard, it can be difficult to relax. It can be easy to get overwhelmed because I flood my brain with a list of tasks half a mile long, and think of others worries more so than my own. My old way of thinking was, if I make them happy, and help solve their issues, they'll be happy and that will make me happy. But this is a flawed way of thinking I am realizing.

Don't judge me. We all learn life lessons at different times in our lives. I have had a lifetime of poor inner thought process that I finally feel like I have the tools I need for self recovery, and reprogramming my brain.

It has been a hard past year. Many, many dramatic changes, heart break, and suffering. Many many tears have been shed, bonds have been strengthened, people have been pushed to learn lessons they haven't learned yet either. Not just me. We've all changed. We've all grown. The difference between me and everyone else is, I'm ready to become a better version of myself through self reflection, not succumbing to negative self talk, but shaping my mind to be more positive instead of me just mentally putting myself down. I'm using tools like, meditation, exercise, positive self talk, gratitude, routine, spending time with myself for myself, music, writing out thoughts, and getting enough sleep, which I aim for 7 hours a night. Sometimes I make it sometimes I don't.

But these are the tools that anyone can use to help them feel better and improve themselves. I highly recommend using these tools which when you realize that if you take care of yourself and listen to your inner voice, and take control of your feelings ... it's the recipe for happiness.

[inawickedlittletown]

I’m With You (9/?)

Summary:

Having a crush was nothing to be ashamed of...lying to the family and friends of said crush about being the guy’s boyfriend, that was a whole other problem. When Buck saves the life of Andrew Diaz and accidentally makes a nurse think that he’s Andrew’s boyfriend, Buck soon finds himself lying to Andrew’s firefighter friends/coworkers as well as Andrew’s family including Andrew’s very suspicious and attractive brother, Eddie.

Based on the 1995 movie While You Were Sleeping.

Words: 3,527

Notes: I think I wrote this entire chapter in one sitting. It’s one of my favorites. Enjoy. ;)

Read on Ao3

Masterpost

Previous Chapter 

--

The first time that Buck was on his own with Chimney since the time Chimney overheard him talking to Andrew happened the next morning when he found Chimney already sitting at Andrew’s bedside. 

“Hey, liar,” Chimney said with a smirk. 

“Maybe don’t say that too loud,” Buck said. 

Chimney laughed at that and Buck walked over to sit down across from him at Andrew’s other side. 

“How’s it going, Buck? Have you found a way to tell the truth yet?” 

Buck let out a sigh. He leaned his elbows on the bed and placed his face in his hands. “No,” he said. “And I know it’s just making it worse and worse. He’ll wake up any day now and the truth will come out.” 

Chimney didn’t respond at once. And then he faced Buck directly. “Look,” he said, “I get how hard this is even if I’ve never dug myself into a hole like this one. But everyone will understand if you explain. I know they will. They might get mad...but they’ll understand, Buck.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Buck said and he was thinking about Eddie. 

After the truth came out, Buck was pretty much resigned to having a clean break from all of them. Maybe not Chimney because he already knew, but certainly everyone else. They would be angry at him and maybe hate him. They wouldn’t want him around and there was no reason for Buck to stick around no matter how much he liked them and how much he loved the way that they were so warm and welcoming to him. 

“Everyone likes you, Buck,” Chimney said. 

“And I’ve lied to them,” Buck reminded him. “And I don’t think he’ll be happy about any of that at all.” Buck motioned to Andrew. 

“Or he’ll surprise you and find the whole thing funny,” Chimney said. 

Buck rolled his eyes at that. They fell into silence for a while. The thing about Chimney was that Buck could tell that he meant well and that Chim could tell it was an impossible situation and yet he wanted to be optimistic and hope for the best. Buck knew to not hope for something he couldn’t guarantee. And people...no matter how much you wanted to stay, they left. 

“So, the dog,” Chimney said eventually. “That’s not really Andrew’s dog, is it?” 

“I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that the hospital gave me Andrew’s things and there was a dog collar. And I went to his place and there was a dog.”

“You went to his house,” Chimney said. “You’re a bit pushy, aren’t you? I can see why you’re in this mess.” 

Buck groaned. He sat back in the chair. “If there was a dog, I didn’t want it to be starving if no one was checking on it.” 

“Okay, fine,” Chimney said. “But doesn’t all of that just make it even worse? You let yourself into his house while not being his real boyfriend. You have told any of us. Eddie? Instead, you went to his house.” 

“I had a key,” Buck said. 

“His keys. Keys you had entirely because you’re pretending to be his boyfriend,” Chimney said. 

Buck groaned again. “I know I screwed up. It’s such a big giant mess.” 

Chimney didn’t deny it. 

A knock on the door had them both turning and Buck was surprised to find Josh there. 

“Hey,” Buck said. 

“Finally had time to stop by here and see our coma patient,” Josh said as he walked in. He stopped at the foot of Andrew’s bed. “He looks like’s he’s having the most peaceful sleep. Asshole.” 

“Hi,” Chimney said. “And who are you?” 

“This guy’s best friend, that’s who,” Josh said and he pat Andrew’s leg. 

“Buck’s?” Chimney asked, still looking a bit confused. 

“Andrew’s,” Josh said. 

Buck let out a sigh as Chimney and Josh stared at each other for a while. 

“Right,” Chimney said, “so I’ve heard nothing about you.” 

“You’ve heard nothing about him either,” Josh said motioning to Buck. 

Chimney glanced between them and then sighed. “I want nothing to do with whatever drama this is. There’s enough of that going around.” 

“You both know the truth,” Buck said. “About me not being his boyfriend.”

Chimney’s shoulders relaxed a little at hearing that. “Oh,” he said. “Alright, then. Still, never heard of you Josh. Or his dog. What else is he hiding, a wife? A kid? You think you know someone.” The way that Chim smiled a bit cheekily after he said it made Buck relax. 

“Well, I still think Andrew will take this well,” Josh said. 

“Or not well at all,” Chimney said even though he’d been saying the opposite earlier. 

Buck actually didn’t want to think on it too much so he changed the subject, asking Chimney about Andrew’s neighbor from the day before. 

“She’s good,” Chimney said. “You made a difference, Buck.”

It felt good to hear that just as good as it had felt for Bobby to tell him that maybe he should consider becoming a first responder. The idea had merit, but with everything else going on, Buck didn’t know if he should. Or if he would actually be good at it and a right fit. The whole thing might end up being like the Seals all over again. 

“Thanks,” Buck said.

“With him too,” Chimney said, “seeing as he was a stranger.” 

Buck glared at him and Josh just laughed. 

“And what do you do Josh?” Chimney asked. 

“I work at dispatch,” Josh said. 

Buck was suddenly hit by why he’d thought that Josh was familiar. He must have seen him before on the few times that Buck had visited 9-1-1 dispatch back when he was with Abby. 

“Buck?” Chim asked. 

“My last girlfriend worked as a dispatcher,” he said. “Abby.”

Josh looked pensive for a moment. “Abby,” he said. “I think — I think I remember her. She left after her mom died. Just up and never came back even though...she was supposed to.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t even break up with me before she did,” he said. 

He kind of hated thinking about Abby and the heartbreak that had followed her leaving. He’d been waiting for way too long before he realized that things were over between them. There had been a delusional part of him that just expected to somehow get back to her apartment and find her there.

“That’s rough,” Josh said. 

Buck shrugged. It was easier to not let anyone know that it affected him still. “It is what it is.” 

—-

Eddie woke up to his son poking him. He was fully dressed already and apparently just waiting for him. Since having his parents around, Eddie had admittedly been getting more sleep. In some ways, that made him dread them leaving soon. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Eddie said.

“Daddy, breakfast is ready.” 

He could smell it. The bacon and the coffee mostly. He got out of bed, grabbing Christopher. His son laughed and giggled as Eddie dropped him on the bed. Christopher scrambled off as quickly as he could and together they walked out to the kitchen where Eddie found not just his parents but Abuela and Isabel too.

“I didn’t know we were having a party,” Eddie said and he walked over to kiss Abuela’s cheek. She smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Ever since his talk with Buck about how little family he had, Eddie had realized that he had to appreciate his more because even when they were annoying and pushy they were still there and Eddie loved them.  

“Sit, sit,” Abuela said. 

Christopher was already seated at the table and digging into his food next to Eddie’s mom and Eddie dropped down into the chair next to him. He was still a bit groggy and more focused on eating and drinking the mug of coffee that Pepa handed him to contribute or even pay attention to the conversation happening around him. 

By the time that he was more awake, he found Pepa already doing the dishes and cleaning up and his parents talking about going to the hospital. 

“Unfortunately we can’t stay much longer,” his mom said. “A few more days and we have to get back to Texas. At least, Ramon does.”

Eddie had already expected that. 

“He was looking a lot better yesterday,” Pepa said. “Had a lot of his color back. The doctor is optimistic he’ll wake up today or tomorrow or so the nurses were saying.” 

Eddie hoped that was the case. He knew his parents would likely go back to El Paso if they had to, but it wouldn’t lessen their worry. His mom especially. It would mean hearing from her every minute of every day for updates and Eddie did not have time for that. 

“Eddie, Christopher estaba hablando de up perro?” 

[“Eddie, Christopher was talking about a dog?”] 

Eddie looked to Abuela. “El perro de Andrew. Buck lo hesta cuidando.” 

[“Andrew’s dog. Buck is taking care of him.”]

He could practically feel the confusion coming off of his parents. Even Abuela looked surprised. 

“That’s so nice,” Pepa said. “They have a dog together.” 

“Your brother doesn’t like dogs,” his mom said. “Or is it Buck’s dog? He didn’t mention having one but it would make sense if he had one.” 

Eddie shook his head. “No, it’s Andrew’s dog. I was shocked too but he even has a doggy door installed on his backdoor. I took Christopher over to meet Legolas yesterday and he’s this sweet golden retriever.”

“And he never mentioned getting a dog?” his dad asked. “Come on, Eddie, that’s — you both live in the same state and work at the same fire station and yet you share nothing. You didn’t know about the boyfriend and now the dog.”

Eddie shook his head out of annoyance more than anything else. “I am not his keeper. I have a son and things that keep me too busy to be looking out for Andrew all the time. He’s a grown man and he doesn’t always tell me everything. Clearly. I don’t know why but we’ll find out more when he wakes up.” 

No one said anything and Eddie picked that moment to go get changed so they could head out. 

The hospital parking lot and the hospital for that matter was becoming all too familiar for Eddie and he was a firefighter and making many trips to the ER doors. He’d just never spent as much time there past dropping off a patient. It was different to be visiting someone at the hospital all the time. Pepa had driven ahead of him with his parents which had left Eddie with Christopher and Abuela and as soon as Eddie had helped Christopher out of the car, he was walking with Abuela at his side. Eddie followed a few paces behind and that’s how he managed to spot Buck. 

Buck was talking to a man that Eddie didn’t know. They were laughing a bit and standing close together and then Buck leaned into him and hugged him and the guy hugged back. The hug lasted longer than Eddie thought a regular hug would and then when they broke apart, the guy leaned in and kissed Buck on the cheek and Eddie was sure that Buck was blushing and none of it made sense. Who was that guy and why was he all over Buck and why was Buck letting him? 

Something sparked inside of Eddie, it made him angry and annoyed in a way he hadn’t felt possibly ever. His eyes remained trained on the guy with Buck. He saw them laughing again and then the man walked away and Buck started heading back towards the hospital. It was lucky Abuela and Christopher hadn’t spotted him, but Buck did see Eddie and he smiled and waved, stopping to wait for him, but Eddie wasn’t feeling friendly. 

“Hey,” Buck said as he approached. 

Eddie didn’t know what came over him. Was it protectiveness over his brother? He didn’t know. All he knew was that seeing Buck hugging that guy wore on him. 

“Who was that?” Eddie asked. 

“Who?” 

“The guy you were hugging? The guy that maybe you’re cheating on Andrew with?” The words left him before he’d even realized he was going to say them. 

Buck looked taken aback. “Josh? That’s your brother’s best friend.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at Buck. “I’ve never heard of a Josh before.” 

“Yes, well you haven’t heard about a lot of the people your brother is friends with,” Buck said with a sigh. “And I would never cheat on Andrew.” 

“Well, I’m not even sure you’re really his boyfriend,” Eddie said and he knew it wasn’t fair. 

Buck laughed, but it was strangled and humorless. “What would I even gain from lying about it?” 

“I don’t know. But there must be something. Andrew is straight and he—”

“And he also hates dogs and he also doesn’t have a friend named Josh and he’s not someone that you apparently know very well at all,” Buck said and Eddie could see some spark in him. Anger and maybe something else. 

“So prove it,” Eddie said. “If he’s your boyfriend then there should be a way to prove it.” 

Eddie had never demanded anything point blank before even though a part of him had wanted to. Buck didn’t respond, instead he shrugged him off and turned and walked towards the hospital doors. Eddie didn’t take long to follow him. He didn’t know what to make of the lack of answer. Was Buck going to give him some sort of proof? Or was this him avoiding giving Eddie an answer. Eddie didn’t even realize they’d made it to the hospital room until he looked up and saw Andrew on the bed. His parents were sitting on one side of the hospital bed. Abuela on the other. Pepa and Christopher weren’t there but Eddie trusted his family to look after him.

And Eddie knew that being there with his family should have stopped him, but he was still just so angry and he didn’t even know if it was about this or because of something else. 

“So, you’re not gonna say anything,” Eddie said, looking at Buck. 

“Eddie come on,” Buck said. 

“Because not saying anything and not giving me proof is really making me doubt everything you’ve ever said to me.” 

Buck glared at him. Everyone in the room was looking at them and when Buck’s glare fell away, he seemed to be looking at Abuela as if to make sure she was okay. 

“Eddie, what is going—” his mom trailed off. 

“Anything at all?” Eddie asked. 

Buck sighed. 

“Hijo, que estas haciendo?” His dad asked.

[“Son, what are you doing?” ]

“I want answers. I’m sure we all do,” Eddie said. “I want to know if Buck is actually telling the truth because I don’t buy it. I don’t buy that he’s Andrew’s boyfriend.” 

Eddie heard Abuela gasp. “But he is,” she said. “He is his boyfriend.” 

“Holy shit,” Chimney whispered and Eddie hadn’t even realized he was there. 

They were all looking between him and Buck and the part of Eddie that really liked Buck, it made him feel horrible for putting him on the spot. And then Buck coughed. He looked at all of them and then his eyes settled on Eddie. 

“Andrew only has one ball sac,” Buck said. 

—-

Buck had never expected to actually need to use that piece of information, but after Eddie had come at him about Josh and then not let up at all despite his whole family being in the hospital room, he really hadn’t had a choice but to use it. A part of him wished that Josh had stuck around to hear it, but then again apparently hugging Josh had been the thing to set off Eddie for some ridiculous reason. 

No one said a thing after the words were out of his mouth and then Chimney coughed. 

“So, uh, who gets to check on that and see if Buck here is telling the truth?” Chimney asked. 

He could see the panic in Chimney’s eyes, like this was going to be the moment when everyone figured Buck out. 

“Or we could just believe him because he’s telling the truth,” Helena said and she was shaking her head at Eddie. 

“Eddie, come on,” Ramon said. “You’re acting crazy.” 

“Well, how about he was hugging someone outside the hospital. Some guy,” Eddie said. “Kissed him too.” 

“Yes,” Buck said. “I hugged Josh. He’s Andrew’s friend and he was just here visiting.” 

Chimney jumped in, then. “I can confirm that.” 

“And the kissing?” Helena asked. 

“On the cheek. Josh is a tactile person,” Buck said. 

Eddie looked like he didn’t want to back down, but he closed his eyes and he took a deep breath and then he just walked out of the room and Buck felt like somebody had reached into his body and just squeezed all of his organs together because Eddie’s anger and the resigned way he walked away made him want to tell the truth and come clean about everything. 

“I’m so sorry about him, Buck,” Helena said. “I think he’s just being protective of Andrew.”

Chimney met Buck’s eyes and it was hard to not just burst out and tell them that Eddie was right and that he’d been lying all along. 

“But we know you’re not lying, Buck,” Isabel said. 

“It’s okay,” Buck said and he felt terrible about the lying but also about Eddie and whatever Eddie was feeling. 

When Christopher entered the room with Pepa, everyone relaxed a little more. Buck ruffled his hair when he passed by and Christopher grinned at him, but he got busy putting another drawing for his uncle on his bedside table. One of the nurses had actually taped a few of them up where they weren’t in the way and where Andrew could see them when he woke up. There were a few other cards on the bedside table as well that had joined Christopher’s. Harry and Denny were responsible for two but there were others. Once again a display of how loved Andrew was. 

“I can go find him. Talk to him,” Buck found himself saying and he didn’t know if it was for Eddie’s sake or because he didn’t want to be in that room anymore watching a family that he wasn’t fully a part of and actually shouldn’t be a part of. 

He didn’t actually find Eddie at once because he wasn’t out in the waiting room or near the vending machines. So Buck wandered outside to see if he could find him there and found him leaning against a wall. 

“Eddie,” Buck said as he approached. 

Eddie turned his face to look at him. “What are you doing out here?” Eddie asked. 

“I — I wanted to understand something. Why are you so...why is it easier to believe that I’m lying or cheating or whatever? Am I just giving you the impression that that is what I’m doing or that that’s who I am? I just...I don’t get it.” 

Eddie groaned. He leaned his head back against the wall and Buck wondered if he should leave him there, but then Eddie looked at him again and his stare was piercing. 

“Because it’s easier to think that there’s some weird reason for why you could have lied about this than to believe that everything I know about my brother is a lie. And maybe I was a bit hasty when it came to — what was his name? Josh?” 

Buck nodded. And he wanted to tell him. He wanted to confirm that everything Eddie was doubting was true and that there was a lot that didn’t make sense. Hell, Legolas didn’t make sense and Buck didn’t even have anything to do with the dog. 

“Okay but that still—”

Eddie cut him off. “No...no, I was out of like. And I should tell you the truth and why it bothered me so damn much because I can’t keep doing this. Even if it—” Eddie ran a hand through his hair and he looked agitated and annoyed and like he was trying to figure out how to use his words. 

Buck had to tell him everything first. It didn’t matter what Eddie might need to say because maybe it was that Eddie already knew. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. But the truth needed to come out at some point. 

“Because I don’t want—”

“Eddie, no, you need to know—”

They spoke at the same time, but neither of them got to finish what they were about to say because before Buck could properly build up his courage or make the decision to actually say something or figure out how he was supposed to say it, Chimney was running out of the hospital. 

“Eddie! Buck!” 

Buck turned and Eddie pushed off the wall. 

“What happened? Chim, what’s—” 

Chimney looked between them and then he said it. “He’s awake. Andrew’s awake.” 

--

Next Chapter

Notes: So, does Andrew have perfect timing or what? 

I actually had no plans for Andrew to wake up quite yet...but then it felt just a little unrealistic to keep him in a coma for too long. And as I was finishing up this chapter when considering all the tension that had grown and this last scene with Buck and Eddie, it just fit. 

Let me know what you all thought! 

And if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters let me know. :) 

Tagging: @tranquility-or-chaos @diazbuckleysworld @stilesgivesmefeels

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Life Has No Title (H.S, 1)

Y/N Y/L/N is looking forward to summer— until she finds One Direction, England’s top-selling band, hiding in her barn. Now, she has to deal with rockstar egos, an unwanted admirer, and the dark force that sent them into hiding in the first place.

inspired by the starstruck movie and the ff. descrip. please don’t sue lmao.

“Y/N!”

The young woman in question grumbled something about rice and bunnies, sighing in bliss as she burrowed deeper into her warm, freshly washed covers.

“Where’s my hairdryer! You so have my hairdryer.”

“I don’t have your bloody hairdryer,” she mumbled, refusing to do anything, but succumb to the distant calling of sleep and wrap herself tighter into cocoon of bedsheets she was sandwiched inside. Her sister’s voice was far away, now... but a blip in the universe, distant, until it disappeared altogether from this new world of rice and gravy, and...

“Give. Me. Back. My. Hair. Dryer!”

Y/N could hear Anna rummaging through her belongings, intrusively spectating at each book and cranny of her bedroom, like the lunatic she seemed to always be. She could just picture the stuck-up expression she had on, nose upturned and eyes narrowed into slits.. but that doesn’t exist here, remember? The rabbit that suspiciously resembled Regina George reminded her airily, she nodded dazedly in her dream. She doesn’t even go here.

“Why would I have your hair dryer?”

“Just give it, you freak! I need it!”

“I told you, I don’t have the bloody hairdryer. I don’t even use it, I’m a hairdryer virgin,” she groaned, eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to cling to the remnants of her dream, but the giant rabbit/Regina George was waving goodbye with a blank expression..

A pillow hit her head.

“Go away,” she bemoaned, her hand emerging from the covers to wave her sister off in a ‘shoo’ motion. Sundays were days that were supposed to be safe from sisterly intervention. “Come back tomorrow... Even the post stops on Sundays.”

“Neither rain, sleet, or snow,” Anna stated, with way too much pride.

“We don’t live in America,” Y/N whispered, a brief, awkward pause following, before Anna cleared her throat. Thank goodness for that, Y/N thought to herself, snuggling further into the linen sheets: otherwise we’d go bankrupt, treating Anna’s chronic lunacy, expensive health care, and all...

“Whatever. Now give me—“

“Did you check under your bed?”

Anna did not speak, the fading sound of her footsteps indicating she was finally skittering out of Y/N’s room. She closed her eyes immediately, resuming the dream of bunnies, and rice, and perhaps, Barack Obama...

Slam! Thwack!

The sounds of Anna opening and closing drawers and Y/N’s wardrobe, caused the sleeping girl to jolt upwards in her bed, eyeing her loony sister blearily with her hair a bird’s nest and mouth dry, but a bit sweet from the chocolate she’d religiously inhaled at three in the morning.

“Wha’sa matter,” she spluttered, a helplessness of sorts festering in her chest at the sight of her sister pulling out one skirt after the other, holding it against her legs and inspecting her tall, skinny figure in the mirror and then dropping the articles of clothing onto the ground. Y/N watched, mouth opening and closing in unspeakable outrage as her floor filled up with a heap of clothing in seconds.

“I need a skirt,” she said matter-of-factly, not even pausing or seeming the slightest bit out of her element. She huffed and threw her another skirt she had deemed mediocre, down onto the hardwood floor. “Mine got wet.”

She moved slightly in her bed, craning her neck uncomfortably to eye the small splotch on Anna’s denim mini-skirt. She squinted. Water.

“Why can’t you get one from your own closet? It’s just water, it’ll dry—“

“My clothes are all in the wash,” she answered impatiently, flinging a top across the room. “Do you have anything remotely fashionable in here?”

She scoffed, a little bit offended. It was summertime, and after being gone to university all year, it was refreshing to come back home for a break. A full wardrobe was awaiting for her, back at home when she returned, and she thought her clothes were comfortable, but also simultaneously fashionable. Irritation burned inside of her, but fizzled to nothing as her sister continued with her antics.

“Most of the skirts you’re trying on are your hand-me-downs.”

“They looked better on me,” Anna stated, finally fingering and then clutching a hot pink skirt that burned Y/N’s peripheral vision. She had given that skirt to her on her sixteenth birthday, a few years back. She could barely bend, without it revealing her chamber of secrets. “Besides, I have a date with Phillipe.”

“Anne, we’ve talked about this. I don’t think you should count sitting with your friends in the diner he’s eating at, and following him across town, dating. That goes by the name of stalking.”

Anna rolled her eyes, glimpsing at her reflection in the mirror in slight satisfaction, but Y/N had learned that her sister was never fully satisfied with anything. She patted her sleek platinum blonde hair down.

She made her way out of Y/N’s room, her delicate feet moving along steadily, not a tremor in her step. She was the very epitome of grace.

“Whatever, freak. Get up. Mum’s been calling you for ages; it’s twelve in the afternoon.”

Y/N pulled herself out of bed, stretching her back out. There was no point in laying in her bed anymore. Anna had scared Regina George rabbit away. She rubbed her eyes, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, she stumbled.

“Meow,” Harry, her cat, called, affectionately rubbing his small, furry face against her bare arm as she sighed, laying in a pool of clumsy limbs and disappointment.

“Y/N,” Her mother’s voice came echoing up the stairwell, an edge of warning colouring her tone. “Come downstairs.”

“Just coming, mum,” she called back. She adopted a softer tone, picking up the cat and holding him to her chest as he slowly blinked at her. “Morning, Harry.”

She threw a toy mouse down the stairs, and he leapt out of her arms, chasing the prey. He swiveled his bottom for five seconds, pounced, and then proceeded to miss a step and roll down the stairs, pupils dilated as he screamed and slowly sunk to the floor, claws extended in futile attempt.

Shaking her head, she quickly made her way to the washroom, finishing brushing her teeth and peeing in record time.

“Harry,” she scolded lightly, as the cat chose to lounge on the stair steps, right as she began to come down. He blinked at her, rolling over and purring playfully. She rubbed her foot against his face and quickly hopped down before he could begin playing with her toes. The sound of the television playing the morning news and the quiet rustling of the newspaper as her father did the crossword flittered into her conscience, along with the scent of her mother’s coffee and whatever influencer inspired (laxative) tea Anna had left brewing in the kitchen.

“Morning, baby bear,” her father, Mark Y/L/N, called, gazing at her amusedly from under half moon spectacles as he pretended to read the paper in the living room, and her mother hushedly remarked on how her and her father led unhealthy lives from the kitchen, across the hall. She smiled, crossing the distance and sitting beside him.

“Morning, Dad,” she chirped, snuggling into her father’s side, him affectionately kissing her cheek. “What’s mum up to?”

“She’s making breakfast. Or brunch, if you’re one to believe in the concept of linear time,” her mother rattled off sarcastically, Y/N wincing in retaliation. She looked at her sharply, but there was a hidden warmth in her eyes that told her that she didn’t really mind.

“Sorry, mum,” she said sheepishly, smiling cheekily as her mother simply shook her head in disbelief and grabbed the car keys. Y/N noticed her parents were both clad in outdoor wear. “Where’re you guys going?”

“Grocery shopping. We have to buy food for our road trip to the lake house; not that we’ll end up buying food, anyway. We will end up purchasing that processed garbage you and your father stuff into your bodies.”

She giggled as her father rolled his eyes in amusement, before winking at her over the paper. They both shared the same sweet tooth and loathing of the surplus of vegetables and other herbivore foods that they were constantly forced to consume by her mother and Anna. Those two were total health freaks. Anna even was a germaphobe and avoided anything greasy, as if it were the plague. Y/N and her dad, however, found ways to hide their secret stash of junk food around the house, and find salvation in it at three in the morning.

“You only get one body, Y/N,” her mother stated broodingly. The girl in question nodded seriously, before leaning over her father’s crossword and grabbing a pen. She began to scrawl: Buy those small, multipack chocolate bars. John nodded. Of course, he wrote back. “Come eat something and then do the dishes.”

She complied, making her way over to sit in a breakfast chair and eat forkfuls of omelette as the morning news played and her mother sipped her coffee, browsing Facebook next to her.

“Are you almost done packing for our trip?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered, spreading organic strawberry jam over some toasted bread. “Anna’s been a bit distracting, but I’m almost finished.”

“I heard you and Anna,” her mother said before she sighed. “I wish you two girls would try a little harder to get along. You two used to be so close.”

“Mum,” her voice was muffled, but still protesting through a mouthful of cooked egg. She had this conversation at least once a week. “You know that’s never going to happen.”

Her and Anna had never been quite close— well, that wasn’t exactly correct. They were close from the moment Y/N had been born right up to when she had been accepted into a gifted school Anna had not gotten into. From that moment, her favourite person’s affections had suddenly ended. Instead, Anna grew colder to her younger sister: refusing to play with or breathe in the same room as her; calling her cruel names, that although were deemed silly by Y/N, still pricked somewhere deep inside, even years later.

The two girls were so different, Y/N often questioned if she had been switched at birth, or if they even had similar DNA. From her tamed platinum blonde hair, to the way she wore her make up immaculately, every single day, without fail. It didn’t matter how sick or feverish Anna Y/L/N was, she was always very together. She ate the right things, wore the right clothes, networked with the right people. Hell, she even made sure to blow her nose into the right tissues. Up at five o clock, hitting the gym or spa with her giggling posse. Unquestionably organized, prepared, and always trying to exceed expectations. Y/N, however, couldn’t care less of most of the things Anna devoted most of her time and effort to. This reflected in her comparatively smaller and less consistent group of friends, her curvier figure, and—something that bothered Anna most to no end— her often chewed, dirt encrusted fingernails. But with her uncontrollable hair and endless source of energy, she had a fierce determination and a passion in every breath she took that many girls her age lacked.

All things considered, it was not very surprising that their two strong, different personalities clashed. It wasn’t surprising that they didn’t see eye to eye.

At the mention of her sister, Y/N’s stomach growled with the intensity of a small earthquake; the sound of which caused Harry, who had taken to resting on the chair beside hers, to lift his head up in alarm.

Fighting and interacting with Anna made Y/N hungry, she realized. Without another word, she placed another piece of toast over the one slathered thickly with raspberry jam, and bit into her new sandwich.

Choosing to ignore her daughter’s bleak response, albeit with an eye roll, Marie placed the jar of jam back inside of the pantry.

“Just make sure your suitcase is ready to go,” she told her pointedly. “You aren’t very organized. I want us to drive up to the lake house early, this year. Traffic can be terrible, now that it’s summer break and all.”

Every year, the Y/L/Ns drove their way to their cabin by the lake. And every year, Marie Y/L/N spoke of driving up to the lake house early, when they all internally knew that they’d be lucky if they made it there by nightfall. There, they stayed for one week. It was the highlight of Y/N’s summer: she loved feeling the wind against her back, going fishing and playing soccer with her father in an open field, and just spending time freely in the nature. Anna despised the getaway, always trying to make excuses that may get her out of ruining her shoes in the grass or getting a bit dirty.

“Mmphkay,” she replied through a mouthful of jam. She placed her sandwich down onto a plate, and sauntered lazily into the living room. She flopped down on an empty couch and twiddled with the remote, pushing buttons and changing the channel to some boring, English news channel. She would have skipped past it, but something caught her eye and— sort of— her interest, as well.. The words that stood out first in the headline below the reporter speaking animatedly onto the TV screen were: “Modest Management” and “Public Humiliation”. Serves them right, she thought to herself in satisfaction. That company was bonkers. She felt a brief flame of joy, which was instantaneously blown out once four faces appeared on the screen. Four equally infuriating faces. Ones that sent her blood curdling in hot frustration. She gripped the television remote harder.

“You may be familiar with One Direction for their catchy songs, bestselling albums, breathtaking tours, and devilish good looks— or simply their irresistible charm and charisma,” said the reporter, practically swooning as clips of the four boys signing body parts, walking around with models during PR stunts, singing, and following other rockstar protocol played. “And if you aren’t— you must be living under a rock!”

“Someone needs to hit your head with a rock,” Y/N muttered darkly. Unintentionally, her grip on her sandwich also tightened to a squeezing point, until raspberry jam came oozing out of the grainy barrier.

In her rage, she had failed to notice her mother’s sudden presence in the living room, where she leaned in and cast a look at the television with mild interest, just as a particularly curly haired member smirked into the camera. Y/N noticed her as her voice traveled from the doorway.

“Isn’t that the boy Anna likes?”

“Likes?” She shook her head cynically with distaste at the wild understatement. “Worships. Acts likes he’s a bloody spiritual entity, mom.”

“Language,” Marie cautioned distractedly, already ignoring the cynicism of Y/N’s comments and slipping out the doorway. Then, much to Y/N’s horror, she called for up the stairs, “Anna! That boy you like is on TV, again!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “No.. no, don’t call her down! she’ll—“

“OUT OF MY WAY.”

CRASH. BANG.

Before Y/N could take another breath or sound the slightest syllable, Anna Y/L/N came bounding down the stairs with startling fervour and acceleration. Her speed challenged those of athletes drugged up on steroids. Her determination was akin to great leaders fighting for change.

“ONE DIRECTION,” she squacked, flying off the banister in record time. Y/N was sure that her older sister was in a trance. Glazed eyes, biting her lip. Her parents were unfazed, used to Anna’s unhealthy obsession.

She bolted past the kitchen, into the living room, and down on the ground, gravitating to her one and only ‘beloved’ and ignoring everyone else in her wake. She was now salivating over the television screen, after wrestling the remote out of Y/N’s hands and turning up the volume to a deafening pitch— in a matter of seconds. She was a fangirl; The distant sound of glass shattering and animals whimpering could be heard as Anna’s esophagus released a sound so high-pitched, it was at a volume mankind had yet to discover.

They were currently showing clips of One Direction’s latest gigs; two of the boys were strumming guitars and groping each other whilst running around stage, the idiots looking like rabbits on crack. A third was abusing a drum set, further downstage, while the final member was swaying girlishly and shook his tambourine like it was some fine art.

“Look, it’s your crush,” she muttered as the same green eyed curly haired face that lined Anna’s bedroom walls filled the television screen.

“Harry!” Anna squealed, physically throwing her body over Y/N, and knocking her sandwich to the ground, in the process. Y/N fumed, steam practically blowing from her ears and face heatening as Anna eyed the band member widely with all of the stupid admiration in the world. She even let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Harry. One day you’ll know we’re meant to be together. I can’t wait for that day.”

“Good,” she growled through gritted teeth, attempting and failing to control her rising temper as she gathered the crumbly remains of her morning snack from the stained shirt. “Then you can go marry him, take all his money, and BUY ME A NEW SANDWICH.”

Anna turned to fix a very serious expression towards her younger sister. In a momentary loss of judgement, Y/N actually had enough hope in her sister’s sanity and enough belief in her logic that she had the inkling of a thought that maybe, just maybe, she was on the brink of apologizing; instead, all she did was provide further evidence of her unstable state of delusion: “you may joke about it now, Y/N,” she said, somehow managing to keep a stoic, straight face, “but you won’t be laughing, when we do get married.”

“Yes, I will, actually,” she protested gleefully, with the biggest smile, showing all of her teeth. “I’ll be laughing when you have him handcuffed, tied to the altar, and held at gunpoint while he nervously recites the vows you stole from your favorite fanfic.”

“Shhhh,” she replied, waving her off and leaning forward. Anna might as well have been hyperventilating, kneeling before the television with unblinking eyes as the band member ran his hand through his messy head of curls. Y/N thought she heard her chanting mine, mine, mine under her breath. She gagged as Anna began to swoon, when a clip of him grabbing his crotch on stage was featured. Much to her dismay, the band members of One Direction were replaced by a team of stoic looking business people, a middle aged, bald man caught in the middle, wearing a grim, borderline threatening expression— as if everything hadn’t gone his way.

It was the creator of Modest Management, Vladimir De Montgomery. He was by definition a Russian Business tycoon, a multimillionaire with rapidly increasing power, wealth, and influence. The man Y/N despised more than One Direction and their pathetic music. He had created a business that slowly, but surely had developed entire lines of superstores and outlets that wiped out small businesses and caused irreversible harm to the environment. Montgomery was a silent killer, and Y/N hated him for it. He was on the quest for world domination. Perhaps she was exaggerating a bit, but in her mind, Vladimir De Montgomery might as well have been wearing horns and dancing naked with an inflamed pitchfork.

“However, the nation’s golden boys—“ Y/N rolled her eyes at the titles, “are nowhere to be found. It is no surprise that Montgomery, although wealthy, is not very popular. In order to enhance his business and bring in more people, Modest Management arranged for One Direction, the boy band they are contractually responsible for, to play at their newest Departmental store. However, fans were devastated once the band failed to show up. This left Montgomery humiliated, with a population of hundreds of guests, who had shown up only to see the band, which is currently M.I.A. Sources claim that Vladimir Montgomery reacted angrily at the band’s absence, and the agents and publicists of the band refuse to leave a comment, seemingly without knowledge of the whereabouts of the boy band members, as well. The verdict is unclear. No one has disclosed or holds knowledge of the whereabouts of these four talented musicians. The stage is empty, and from the look of things: It seems like we have a boy band on the run.”

The news story had ended, instead switching over to a slideshow filled with black and white pictures of the band members laughing and singing and flexing. Y/N felt amazed by the amount of bullshit that could be accumulated for these things, once eerie, sad background music began to play. Anna was blinking stupidly at the television screen, before she let out an ear-splitting shriek, one which caused her sister to jump in fright.

“Calm down,” she grumbled.

“Calm down—“ Anna gaped, bugging her eyes out to make it seem like Y/N was the lunatic in the household. “Calm down?”

“Or not,” she muttered.

“How could they just ABANDON their fans like that?”

“Are you kidding? Standing up Montgomery and Modest is, like, the one sensible thing they’ve done in their entire, laughable careers.”

Anna stood up, shooting Y/N an ugly death glare. “Like you would understand.” Then she was making an exit and coolly stomping up the stairs. “This is a CRISIS,” she bemoaned from the top floor, followed by the sound of her door slamming shut.

When she glanced back at the screen, Y/N couldn’t help, but feel a small flicker of admiration for what the four band members had done. Then, he’d face grew ashen as she recalled how they were pompous, egotistical assholes, and flicked the off button on the remote, just as a black and white picture of Niall Horan eating a drumstick while wearing a tutu floated mournfully on screen.

“Where could they be?”

—

Somewhere in the outskirts of a small English town, a beast howled. The four teenagers inside of the ratty, broken down minivan sighed.

“Shut up, Niall,” the darker haired member hissed. “Your stomach’s been growling like that for ages.”

“Because I haven’t been fed for ages. Feed me, Louis.”

“You literally ordered and ate everything off of that Nando’s driveway menu we passed by. And you brought leftovers, and finished ours as well as yours,” the bronzy, spiky haired member shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “How could you possibly still be hungry?”

“I just am..” the blonde trailed off, patting his stomach almost proudly. Louis tossed a bag of baby carrots at his face, and he opened the ziplock bag and began to happily munch.

“What the fuck is this, anyway?” Louis gestured dramatically at the dingy vehicle they were currently stuck in. Niall nibbled happily.

“Princess,” Zayn muttered, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms, using a content Niall as his human shield from the dangerously flashing eyes of Louis Tomlinson. The band member driving the car rolled his eyes from under the shades covering them, and the beanie holding in his thick waves of hair. The one hand he had easy over the steering wheel tightened.

“You wanna say that to my face?”

“Sure, Niall’s too fat for you to get to me, anyway.”

“HEY—“

“This,” Harry stresses, pinching his nose in exasperation, closing his eyes for a second, before carrying on with the reminder. “This is a revolution, remember, Louis? Whatever bullshit you used to say about the people revolting after the government being unable to represent them anymore, and how Modest was our government— think of that. Please, just go to your happy place.”

Louis grumbled, and then began chanting something along the lines of “revolution and happy, anarchist society” under his breath with his eyes squeezed shut, his lips forming into a light smile. “I love me some anarchy.”

“It shows,” Zayn muttered, causing Louis to shoot him a glare and position his fists to his face, aiming for a punch. At a last resort, Zayn pushed the Irish boy who’d lost his previous grudge in heaps of chicken, in front of him. The fist hit his stomach. Zayn roared with laughter. Niall whimpered. Louis crossly looked out the window, eyes boredly running over the landscape of cows and grass and manure, and then a really ugly ass barn. Louis’s nose scrunched up at the mere sight of the hideous structure, broken down in some places, erosion running its course in other.

“That is the fugliest thing my beautiful eyes have ever rested on.”

Zayn scoffed. Then, his eyes widened, at the same time the car flew back as Harry stepped on the brakes.

“Barn!”

Louis’s eyes shot into terror filled consciousness.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus...”

—

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Niall’s tone was positively murderous as he stared at the decrepit barn in front of him, horror-struck.

Harry rubbed at his temple, tiredly. They all stared in silence from their car windows, at the tired looking barn. The car they were in was going to die any second now, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, it was pretty shitty, but he knew it was their best option, at this point. “Got a better idea?” he questioned flatly.

“Yeah, how about let’s not lay in animal shit?”

Three of them were now against the idea. Niall was shaking his head, now full of both hicken, and disbelief. Louis looked pale. Zayn looked a bit put off by the idea, too. Louis squinted, pulling down the windows manually.

“And where do you suppose we sleep?” He spat, scrunching nose and waving at the foul air dramatically. “Bloody hell, what is that?”

“It’s either hay for a little while, or being abducted by those crazy psychopaths. Pick your poison. It isn’t even that bad.”

—

“No.”

“But—“

“No.”

“Loui—“

“No.”

They were all out on the field, just metres away from the barn after parking their car somewhere further from the landscape and walking, so they wouldn’t be traced in any way. Niall was clutching his packet of chicken tenderly to his heart, a frown playing on his lips, Zayn wore a deadpan expression, Harry looked exasperated. And then there was Louis, practically on the verge of tears, his foot elevated in a slick pile of cow manure.

“Come on,” Harry urged through gritted teeth, voice growing lower and dangerously teetering towards tranquilizing Louis and sending him hurtling into the barn via T-Shirt cannon. The tone by which he spoke seemed to have struck a chord with Louis, for the dark haired boy’s lips trembled. After a few short seconds, a breathy sound escaped from the back of his neck.

“Er,” Niall sounded helplessly, shoving his hand into the grease splotched brown paper bag and successfully retrieving a half-eaten fried drumstick. He held it in front of Louis’s face. “Chicken?”

Louis took one, long look at the deep-fried mutilated chicken body part, and then his designer, new running shoes, lathered with cow shit, and his face crumpled and he promptly burst into tears.

“I wanna go home,” he sobbed brokenly, Niall fumbling for a handkerchief, but failing to find one, causing Louis to simply grab Zayn’s hoodie-clad arm and blow sorrowfully into it. “I want to—“

“Alright,” Harry spoke, looking over Louis and instead at the farm. He would commit a murder, if he had to hold onto the weight of most of their essential belongings and Louis’s luxurious hair products in an overpacked knapsack in the overbearing heat for even a minute longer. It was getting dark. “Let’s go.”

Zayn moved in the direction of the crimson coloured, off-white framed wooden barn, immediately. In fact, he sprinted, creating more distance between Louis and himself. Niall shrugged, popping the drumstick into his own mouth while taking a casual stroll inside. Harry glanced toward Louis, who made a pitiful noise. Shaking his head in disbelief, he jogged into the barn.

Mutilated was the right way to describe the barn, if it wasn’t already beyond description. Mutilated beyond measure. Everything was either rotten, rotting, or about to rot. There was hay in the back, and an upper tier that was collapsed in some places, sharp edges of wood broken down. However, it had a roof, and a gate that slid shut. It was also in the middle of nowhere, both a comforting and terrifying thought.

“Definitely abandoned.”

“No intruders,” Zayn said weakly. “No one would think to find us here.”

Niall walked a bit further inside, stepping on the hay while trying to figure out where to crash for the night. While he moved, something made a squelching noise, under his foot. Everyone collectively winced.

The three young men stood in part analytical, and part defeated silence.

“Dibs on that stack of hay,” Niall suddenly shouted, running for and leaping onto a stack, and landing with a soft thud. This caused them all to break into genuine laughter, at this and all they’d been through.

After that, it was easier to get settled in. They all claimed stacks of hay to sleep on, rating them on durability (likeliness that it wouldn’t collapse on them), softness, and location furthest from where the barn was warmest in the scalding heat. Now that they’d taken off and changed their clothes in the alleged locker room area, and relieved themselves in the randomly placed portable bathroom smack dab in the middle of the field, things were running smoothly. Niall even left out some of the food he’d brought to share. Things were harmonious.

After a while, their eyes turned to Louis, who had just stepped into the barn and was looking quite unsure of himself.

“I have candles,” he voiced. He explained: “To help with the ghastly smell.”

Harry rolled his eyes in faint amusement. “You get the unstable stack of hay at the top-pier, mate. And no complaining. This is home.”

“Yeah,” Niall sighed, cuddling further into his stack of hay. He was becoming immune to the smell, quite quickly. “Home, sweet home.”

For a moment, Harry’s eyes were drawn a small pile of childish belongings resting at the very corner of the barn: dolls fashioned from sticks stuck together with vines, paper drawings, candy wrappers, and a faded tiara, snapped in half. His eyebrows pinched together in curiosity and alarm, but he reminded himself no one could possibly be nearby. He wandered off to help build a table of sorts.

Then, the four young rockstars fell onto their soft stacks of hay, content under the cool beeeze the merciful summer air had blown their way. They slept under the thinly veined stars, shining with brilliance, viably from under the cracks of the eroding, crimson barn. They faded into sleep with full stomachs and, at least temporarily, satisfied minds, knowing they were alone, out of reach from the rest of the world.

They thought so, anyway. Oblivious to the house hidden behind a thick thatch of vines, trees, and greenery, inhabited by a family unit comprised of a mother, a father, and the most obsessive girl the world had encountered, accompanied by the fiercest.

For now, they’d sleep. Until Niall would eventually wake them all in the middle of the night with a girlish shriek, frightened by some stick he claimed was a sword, anyway.

—

Anna hadn’t descended down from the closed parameters of her room, all evening.

Even after every coax, beg, and eventual scold (from their mother), she remained adamant, staying up in her room and grieving the loss of four random boys who’d somehow gotten lost. It was nearing night, when she’d finally come down, just in time for dinner after Marie had practically pushed her down the stairs, and then into her chair.

For dinner, they’d had some salad or whatever that Anna usually liked, but today she just scraped her fork against the plate, causing sharp, screeching noises doing nothing to console Y/N’s already heightening frustration at the leaves they were consuming for dinner. Dinner was supposed to be a meal, wasn’t it? Meals were supposed to make you happy. She thought of the time Harry had gotten lost, how Anna hadn’t done so much as paste a poster. Now, she was practically fasting for these strange rich people, in grief.

Now, it was nearing midnight, and Y/N was slowly tiptoeing down the stairs, stomach grumbling and making obscene sounds, due to the dissatisfying meal she’d pushed down her throat. She yawned, rubbed at her eyes and tied to think of what to eat to satisfy the hungry ache in her stomach that was boring a hole through her soul. Then, the sound of plastic crinkling sounded through the room, and she froze. The lights were all shut, the halls all enveloped in darkness.

She tiptoed further, stopping and holding her breath when she spotted the closed walk-in closet in their hall, lit up from the inside. She pursed her lips, moved forward, then swung the door open.

All of a sudden, the man made quick moves to haphazardly close whatever packet he was eating from. A sharp squeak came out of his mouth, and Y/N relaxed. It was her father. In a rather comedic stance, really. Clutching a packet of crisps to his chest, mouth stuffed full. His eyes were wide with fright, resembling a deer in the headlights. He swallowed, relaxing some when he noticed it was Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N, I thought you were your mother,” he outstretched the packet of crisps as a sort of offering, pulling it from where they kept their secret stash of what they liked to call ‘real food.’ “I should’ve known. You’ve always had an amazing radar for junk food.”

“Gimme,” she squealed, launching herself forward and grabbing fistfuls of greasy chips, not minding as they crumbled into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Her stomach cried with gratitude, she saw the colours of freedom. “Mmm.. saturated fat,” she moaned, reaching for another handful.

Mark laughed and his eyes—so much like Y/N’s— lit up, giving his face a boyish glow. “Save some for later,” he advised, prying the packer away from his daughter’s greedy hands. “Your mother’s making boiled tofu, again, tomorrow.”

“Ew, barf,” said Y/N, scrunching her face up in disgust.

Mark chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. “That’s my girl.”

Later that night, Y/N ventured out to leave the cat food and water, and at the same time, by some divine coincidence (Marie Y/L/N’s bullying), Anna was also sent to throw away the recycling and trash. This was her fault, anyway. She’d complained that Harry shouldn’t eat his ‘meaty slimy food’ in the same room where they all ate. So, their mother, a typical Anna-pleaser, had shifted the cat’s food and water dishes outdoors, by the shed. Y/N obviously found this a very unjust thing to do. Would it be fine if she protested against Petunia clipping her toe nails in the same washroom she showered in? No. but Harry didn’t mind it. He ate, drank his water, and rolled around in the grass for a while, afterwards.

Y/N and Anna walked for a while in complete, awkward silence, her sister clutching a handful of trash bags, and her the cat food with Harry meowing in tow, leaping around, and begging for food. The garbage bins were located right next to the shed, so that was even worse. Y/N hadn’t trusted her sister with throwing out the garbage after an incident four years back involving Y/N, Anna’s surprising lifting and throwing strength, and, well.. a garbage bag. So, she kept at a distance. She hoped they could get through this whole little excursion without exchanging a word, which would honestly probably be better off for the both of them. However, Anna couldn’t seem to hold it in the moment Y/N pulled back the metal strip, opening the canned salmon to put into Harry’s food bowl. Anna sniffed disgustedly and complained, “Ew, gross! That’s disgusting, get that stuff away from me!” Although she wasn’t even near her.

Naturally, Y/N couldn’t not smirk. She immediately pulled the lid right off the salmon, then casually strolled upto her sister. “No, seriously, it smells great! Try some,” she held it under Anna’s nose, and her expression went from irritated to downright petrified.

She screamed, swatting at the can, causing the contents of pink salmon to run down Y/N’s tank top, staining it. “Great,” she said. “Now, you’ve ruined two of my shirts, and Harry has to eat dry food.”

“Serves you both right,” Anna huffed, walking to the garbage bins.

By the time she had fetched the dry food and poured it into Harry’s bowl—which caused him to stare at her, hard, for a very long time, questioning why there was only kibble in his bowl— Anna was still cautiously and very slowly throwing away the trash, gingerly dropping each bag, every now and then, keeping a safe distance from the bin. Y/N started to walk back, and it was a fair jaunt, with their property being so big. She heard the trash bin finally shut, and Anna let out a little yelp, presuming it was from the waft of ‘garbage air.’

Y/N rolled her eyes. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of something at the far end of the property. Across the field, behind a couple of fir trees, was the old barn house, neglected over the past decade or so and half-deteriorated by years of harsh weather and a lack of maintenance. Y/N hadn't visited the barn since she was very, very young. Even then, it had been a blend intrigue and fascination that drew her to it, a temporary fixation to satisfy her curiosity. She'd taken Anna back there, one summer's night, lured her in, closed the door on her and run back to the house. Apparently, Anna didn't have very good navigational skills in the dark, because she hadn't been able to get out until she'd been retrieved by her father and carried back in tears. Y/N was grounded for three weeks. Anna was scarred for life.

Needless to say, nobody had ventured back to the barn ever since.

So it was strange, now, that as Y/N glanced inadvertently in that direction, she saw a miniscule light shining at the back of the field.

She stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating. Nope, it was definitely there. A shudder swept through her at the sight of it, but at the same time, she was fascinated. Just like when she was a child, she felt drawn toward the barn by an eerie sort of curiosity. It was almost pitch black out by now, but really, how dangerous could it possibly be? Without giving it another thought, Y/N deposited the water bottle she'd used to fill Harry's dish and began to walk purposefully in the direction of the mysterious light.

"Wh-where are you going?" Anna asked suddenly. In her voice was a combination of annoyance and anxiety; annoyance at the fact that Y/N was doing something strange and impulsive, and anxiety originating from the fact that Y/N was going for a stroll while leaving Anna in the vastness of their yard, in the pitch-black, with nothing, but a plastic recycling box.

"As if it concerns you," Y/N said dully.

"You can't just leave me here alone!" Anna voice was so high-pitched, it was like listening to nails scratching ballistically at a chalkboard. Y/N cringed and was forced to stop once again.

She swivelled around, made a duh sort of face at Anna, and said, "Well then, you're going to have to come with me, aren't you?"

As expected, Anna froze up and adamantly shook her head. "Uh, no way. Never."

Y/N turned around exasperatedly and continued to saunter across the field. "Then, for goodness' sake, Anna, shut up." She quickened her pace.

A couple of seconds went by, and then, as predicted...

"Wait!"

Anna hurried along behind her; evidently, her fear of being alone in the dark had won out over her reluctance to visit that place again. Y/N couldn't say she hadn't expected for this to happen, but she wasn't particularly over the moon at having acquired a companion. Anna, being said ally. As they crossed the darkened field, drawn toward the light in the corner, her sister jumped at the tiniest of noises, kept glancing around as if something was about to jump out at her at any moment, and, at one point, actually grabbed onto the back of Y/N’s shirt in her panic, pulling at it viciously with her perfectly manicured claws.

“I swear, Anna, if you ruin this one, too,” Y/N hissed. She liked this shirt. It was a dark blue Rolling Stones one, that led down to her mid thighs and was super soft.

"This is a really bad idea," Anna hissed, Y/N rolling her eyes as she completely ignored her threat. She seemed to be getting more antsy as they approached the closest tree to the barn. Her eyes darted across the field, then to the barn, then to Y/N. "You're not just going to lock me in there again, a-?"

Y/N shushed her impatiently and dragged her behind the tree. She was focused on the voices she'd just picked up on, drifting toward them from inside the dilapidated building. There was the unmistakable sound of male laughter, the occasional girlish whimper, and one voice that was deeper than all the others, speaking in a slow, spine-chilling monotone.

Resembling one of the more placid, fearful voices in the barn, Anna whimpered. "I told you this was a bad idea!" she whispered. "You're going to get us murdered! Who knows what could be in there - it's probably a serial killer on the run, or a monster, or a serial killing monster-"

Y/N had had enough. She pivoted on her heel, slapped a hand over her sister's open mouth, and fixed her with a harsh, patronizing look. She tried to keep her voice low, but it was difficult to suppress her rising anger. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Anna, or I swear, I will put you out there as bait. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed and stunned into sheer silence, Anna nodded hurriedly. Y/N yanked her hand away and gave the barn one last glance from her lookout point before stepping out from behind the tree and beginning to walk quickly with padded feet, across the remaining stretch of lawn.

She could now pick up on distinct pieces of conversation emanating from the barn.

"And then the werewolf creeps up behind the unsuspecting traveller, and... BANG!" Somebody shrieked at this; next to Y/N, Anna jumped. "Snaps his neck!"

"Oooh, I'm scared," said another voice mockingly. "Honestly, these stories suck. Where did you get them from - Nialler’s bedtime story collection?"

Y/N didn't hear anymore, because Anna had begun to tug urgently on her arm.

"What?" she hissed.

For once, Anna showed some damn common sense and kept her voice lower. Her eyes, however, told Y/N that she would have spoken much louder, had they not been in such a situation. "I know that voice!" she whispered excitedly. "I would know that voice anywhere!"

Y/N shot her a confused look, but decided not to ask questions. Anna wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind, childhood trauma and all. Instead, she took the final few steps that led her to the barn door, reached out tentatively for the handle...

...And, in one fluid motion, threw the door open.

The voices stopped abruptly.

Anna let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Four boys sat completely still in the centre of the barn, their faces frozen in various expressions. They were gathered together on a cluster of hay bales; one, with shaggy black hair, held a flashlight to his chin and had his mouth open in shock. To his left, a rather blonde boy looked scared out of his mind, and the other two wore similar looks of horror, as if they'd been caught in some despicable act.

But they hadn't done anything terribly wrong. What had caused Anna to scream - and Y/N to go still, completely rigid from head to toe - had been the mere sight of their four faces.

Four faces which were all startlingly familiar.

The members of One Direction.

To Be Continued...

MASTERLIST | Requests are open!

A/N:

*cracks knuckles* here i am again, with a series fic i may very likely never update. anywho XD this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and it was quite grudging to type at some areas cause my fingers got tired, but i was supposed to study for an exam, and my procrastinating ass naturally flocked here. lemme know what you think. i love hearing from my jared 19s :)

[recurring-polynya]

Sometimes, when I don’t feel like writing the things I am supposed to be working on, I have a document worth of drabbley post-TYBWA stuff where I’m working out how Renji and Rukia actually manage to get family-approval for their relationship and subsequently get married. It’s pretty rough and I never finish any of the parts.

In any case, @sillier-things mentioned recently that she liked stories about making babies and I told her I would write her a drabble, so I wrote a little story about family planning, because I am a thirty-eight year old, deeply boring woman, and because I need, in my heart, for Ichika to have been extremely planned.

So, I wrote this, mostly for me, and I hope you like it, too. If you don’t, I’ll just write you another one. Takes place in the late fall, between the TYBWA and their wedding, they are betrothed. (Renji likes to pronounce “betrothed” with three syllables and in his Byakuya voice). PG for some raunchy sex talk.

Some background from the other parts that maybe I’ll finish someday?:

- Renji beat Byakuya in a fight and then turned in his paperwork for dating Rukia

- Byakuya was will to let Renji marry into the Kuchiki family, but Renji realized that Rukia would be happier living a more independent life, and asked Byakuya if she could marry out of the family instead. Byakuya refused to let her marry a nobody, so he did what anyone would: named Renji his vassal.

- Renji somehow managed to buy a house that his 4th Seat won in a poker game off some other noble idiot (I wrote this part once when I got really nostalgic about their house from Between Tides, I told you I was a deeply boring person)

- Byakuya is not as recovered from his fight with As Nodt as everyone thinks he is. (Renji and Rukia know, tho)

Rukia sat on a tall bar stool, while Renji stuffed gyoza on the other side of the kitchen island. She was going down a long checklist. “Last one!”

“Surely not!”

“Surely yes! Do you want to use the good silver chopsticks?”

“The ones that are slippery as hell? No.”

“You’re getting pretty good at them,” Rukia said, propping one elbow up on the counter.

“I’m not worried about me. We get to invite our friends to this thing, too, right? In addition to all 900 of your relatives?”

“They’re your relatives now, too, Mr. Branch Family Head,” Rukia reminded him. “Whether you marry me or not. And yes, we can invite our friends to this thing, or as I like to call it, our wedding.”

Renji plopped another dumpling onto his tray. “Well, I don’t want Ikkaku to shove a metal chopstick in my ear on my wedding day, so can we please use normal ones? Is that allowed?”

“We can use the second most fancy chopsticks, I still wouldn’t categorize them as ‘normal.’”

“So, is that it? You’re really out of questions?”

“I’m out of wedding-related questions. You still haven’t told me why you’re making enough gyoza to feed your entire squad.”

“Because it’s easier to make them in big batches, they freeze really well.”

Rukia waved an arm at the room behind her, which was mostly full of boxes. “You don’t have anything better to do? You moved in three weeks ago, have you unpacked anything?”

“I unpacked the kitchen stuff, obviously. And you’re here. I know how you like it when I wear this apron.”

Rukia folded her arms on the counter and rested her chin on them. “Renji. You’re still sleeping in the barracks, aren’t you?”

Renji stared deeply into his bowl of pork and cabbage. It was much more forgiving than his fiancee. “This house is really big. It gets lonely at night. I still don’t see why I had to move in first.”

“How am I supposed to marry into your family if your family doesn’t even have a house? What sort of poor excuse for a noble are you anyway?” Rukia teased him.

“The worst,” Renji agreed cheerfully.

Rukia’s smile wavered a little. “It’s not too big, is it? For just two people?”

“It’ll be perfect when you’re here, I promise. If it’s still too big, we’ll get that bunny you’ve always wanted." 

Renji expected some shouting on the topic of bunnies, but instead, Rukia was quiet. He looked up from his dumplings to see her chewing on her bottom lip pensively. "Renji? Can I ask you something?” she asked as his eyes met hers.

“Nope!” he replied. “You said you were done! You blew your wad on centerpieces and great-uncles!”

She gave him a withering stare.

“Of course you can ask me anything, dummy,” he chided her.

Rukia sat up and leaned back as far as she could without falling off her stool. “Do you wanna have kids?”

Renji blinked. “Well…” he said slowly. 

Rukia waited.

“To be honest, I’ve spent a lot of time on my figure. I’m worried you wouldn’t find me attractive anymore if I couldn’t lose the weight afterwards–”

“Oh, shut up, you are the worst!” Rukia looked around for something she could throw at him, but the best thing she could come up with was a dish towel, which he ducked easily. “I’m being serious, here!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he chuckled, not sounding very sorry. “Do you want to have kids?”

“No! No dodging! I asked you first!”

They stared at each other, eyes narrowed.

“What if we said it at the same time?” Renji suggested.

“That seems like a terrible idea, but it is fair. Let’s do it.”

“Okay, on three, then. One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

“Yes,” said Rukia at the same time as Renji said, “I do, but I feel it puts an unfair burden on you and I know being a good leader to your squad is something you take very seriously and I won’t feel like anything is missing from– did you just say 'yes’?”

“I knew you hadn’t thought this through properly,” Rukia muttered.

He threw a piece of wadded up dough at her head. She caught it.

“You moron!” she scolded. “You’re the head of a family, now! What kind of a dick do you think I am, that I would agree to marry you with no intention of bearing you an heir!”

Renji’s face split into a lopsided grin. “First of all, if you say the phrase 'bearing me an heir’ again, I am going to be so overcome with passion that I will be unable to wait until our marital vows, and I’ll have my way with you right here and now.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. As if he gave half a shit about wedding vows. As if they hadn’t done it already once today within five minutes of her walking in the door.

“Secondly, who the hell else would I marry? I’ve already incorporated Sode no Shirayuki’s tsuba into my family crest.” He shoved up his sleeve for emphasis, as if she had somehow forgotten what it looked like, the segmented oval of her released sword’s guard, bisected by a lightning bolt. She couldn’t believe he’d gotten it tattooed on the inside of his forearm on the same day Byakuya declared him a one-man vassal family. She also couldn’t believe he wouldn’t let her get a matching one until they were actually married. Apparently Seireitei tattoo artists were very serious about not doing clan symbols without permission. At least he was finally willing to wear long sleeves again, now that it was November. 

“That’s your problem,” she informed him.

“My favorite problem,” he announced. “The branch family thing is nice, I guess, but mostly I just care about being married to you. You don’t need to feel obligated to–”

Rukia threw the dough ball back at his head. It hit him square in the forehead and bounced off. “Look, you lunkhead. I don’t know if I would be any good at being a mom, but it’s just stupidly obvious how good a dad you would be, not to mention how hot you would be in one of those baby sling things. Don’t you dare try to deny it, as you stand there in your dumb apron, making your freezer meals.”

His cheeks had gone a little pink. “All I was gonna say is that I think you would be a pretty awesome mom. You can skateboard. I can’t skateboard. You… you really want to?”

Rukia shrugged, a little defensively. “We had a pretty shitty childhood, y’know, but we all took care of each other. We did okay. We were happy. I feel like… like it would be nice to actually take care of someone. Give them food and hugs and tell them stories and all the stuff no one ever did for us. That I would like to do that with you.”

Renji was regarding her strangely.

“What?” Rukia huffed.

“I just really like you, y’know,” he said softly. 

Now Rukia was the one with pink cheeks. “Also, I just feel like I could make a really good baby,” she proclaimed. “Especially with your help. Imagine a kid with my brains and aesthetic and your height and abs.”

“You do realize we’re just as likely to get an angry shorty with my hair and your stubbornness,” Renji informed her dryly. “Not to mention a foul mouth because there’s no way we’re gonna remember to watch our language around them.”

“Sounds perfect to me, either way,” Rukia replied.

Renji grinned and continued on with his dumpling stuffing. “All right, Kuchiki. I’m game if you are.”

“I am,” Rukia confirmed. “When do you want to start?”

Renji guffawed. “You do not mess around, do you? My hands are covered in ground meat at the moment–”

“Be serious! Besides, I already cast the all-purpose protection kidou on you today and I’m very good at it, so it’ll probably last a full eight hours.”

Renji shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You be serious. Wouldn’t you rather wait until you get a new captain in place?”

Rukia stuck her lower lip out. “Uhhh, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

Renji looked up, regarding her under lowered eyelids. “Yesssss?”

Rukia made a squirmy face. “The Head-Captain talked to me the other day. He, uh, said that with all the losses overall, and the fact that there aren’t really any good candidates, he wants to keep the 13th small for the next couple of years and let me, um, growintothecaptaincy.”

Renji raised one eyebrow at her, looking very proud, but not saying anything.

“He wants to do the same with the Seventh,” Rukia quickly excused. “And he’s going to talk to Captain Hitsugaya about mentoring me, both as a captain and with my bankai. That’s the real issue, y'know, that with a bankai like that, I should really know what I’m doing before I have any business captaining a squad.”

“I hear you,” Renji agreed.

Rukia narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that what you told Captain Kyouraku when he asked you to take the Seventh? He said you turned him down.”

Renji winced.

“Because you told me,” Rukia went on loftily, “ that Souou Zabimaru was much easier to maneuver than Hihiou Zabimaru.”

“Something about how I still had a lot to learn from Captain Kuchiki,” Renji grumbled. “Besides, the Seventh is Iba’s squad. He’s not that far from bankai. I even told Kyouraku I’d help him train for it.”

“It might be awhile before you get another chance,” Rukia pointed out softly.

Renji was stuffing dumplings very aggressively now. “Your brother needs me right now, you know that, even if I wasn’t gettin’ married to the most demanding woman in Soul Society next month. I don’t care that much about making captain. I care a lot about my family.”

Byakuya’s battle with As Nodt had very nearly killed him. At the time, Captain Unohana had predicted that, even if he lived, he would never hold a sword again. He had proved her wrong, of course, trained in the Royal Realm, taken up his haori again. But he wasn’t the same. HIs power was greatly reduced, his endurance as well. He could no longer reach the advanced stages of his bankai. 

Captain Kuchiki was one of the most powerful captains in the Gotei. It would take a strong opponent indeed to press him hard enough to even notice these changes. But Byakuya knew. And his lieutenant, who had finally bested him in battle, knew, too.

Byakuya’s previous strength might still return. It might simply take time. Having an eager young vice-captain– powerful enough to pass the captain’s exam, but lacking the experience, made a convenient cover for delegating combat and other physically taxing duties. Especially now that Byakuya had acknowledged Renji as a protege of sorts, head of a Kuchiki branch family, and promised Byakuya’s own beloved sister, it appeared outwardly that it was the captain supporting his vice-captain, rather than the other way around.

Rukia smiled fondly at the vice-captain in question. “I like you a lot, too, y'know.” She paused thoughtfully. “I don’t have to be a captain, either. It is a lot. I can tell Kyouraku to find someone else.”

“Tch!” Renji huffed. “Someone’s gotta bring glory to our family name. Makes more sense for it to be you, I’m the better cook.” He finished up the last of his dumplings, and put the bowl in the sink. “Although I suppose that puts a wrinkle in that thing we were talking about a minute ago.”

Rukia sniffed. “I don’t see why. We’ll make one right away, I’ll tell the Head Captain I need a year, and then I’ll get down to business after that. You can use the baby as an excuse to stave off any further attempts at promotion. And if Brother keeps trying to overdo it, we can plunk the baby in his lap.”

“Brilliant plan,” Renji assessed. “Zero foreseeable flaws. How many of these you think you can eat with dinner? I’m gonna freeze the rest.”

“One thousand,” Rukia proclaimed.

Renji rolled his eyes as he slid a tray into the freezer. “I have no idea how I am going to keep you fed, assuming I actually manage to knock you up.”

“I believe in you,” Rukia assured him. “On both counts.” She watched him as he continued to clean up. “You’re really on board with all this? You were probably looking forward to a few years of me bending you over the kitchen table as soon as we got home, not late night feedings and dirty diapers, huh?”

Renji finished drying his hands, and he reached over the counter to tip Rukia’s chin up with one finger. “Rukia. As much as I love having rauchy sex in inappropriate places with you– and you know that I do– the thing I’ve been waiting forty-six years for is to be a family, whether that means just the two of us, or us plus however many babies you demand I put in you. I’ve had enough waiting for one afterlife, to be honest.”

“How did you come up with 46?” Rukia frowned. “Forty-six years ago, we were still back in–”

“Don’t do the math,” he implored.

“Okay,” she agreed, smiling at him.

“We’re not gonna start trying before the wedding, though, right?” Renji asked, pulling off his apron. “I’m pretty bad at math, but your brother’s not.”

“I suppose not,” Rukia agreed.

“Then we should squeeze in as much lazy daytime sex as possible while we still can!”

Rukia shrieked gleefully as he ducked around the kitchen island and pulled her off her barstool. 

This was going to work out just fine.