#also she really wants an iced coffee. either the monster one or from Starbucks. if you get her hot coffee shell throw it out

[anotherpapercut]

I need like 3 people to do a Duolingo family plan with me so it will only be $3 / month each instead of 7

[pckarchives]

beneath the cut , you’ll find random tidbits of info that i thought up at unholy hours of the night. took all day but tbh ..... this was therapy. i really said, “i’ll make my own damn self happy,” and it shows.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟏.     ›     alicia marie levesque boyd-whitley.

► hobbies ➔ painting and decoration, primarily. for the most part, this is due to the nostalgia of doing it with her moms. she’s not awful at it, but she’s not van gogh levels of good, either. it’s just for fun, as all things should be. she’s also incredibly creative, so things like renovation ideas come easy to her. she did ballet for several years, but dropped it before she moved to beacon hills. ► social media handles ➔ she’s aleesha on just about everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ mostly conventional, with a series of emojis attached to every name. ► favorite color ➔ green. but sea foam-ish green. ► favorite video game ➔ animal crossing new horizons. she’s a simple bitch; she sees cute animals, she plays the damn game. ► favorite song ➔ style by taylor swift. ► favorite scent ➔ pumpkin spice! not to be totally cliché, but that scent is unbeatable. she has a million candles with that scent alone. ► favorite band/artist ➔ taylor swift, of course. ► favorite place to be ➔ nana’s house! ► favorite season ➔ winter! she had so much fun with lucy over this past winter and if that’s the way lucy acts every year for christmas, then alicia looks forward to it! ► favorite word ➔ squishy. ► favorite meme ➔ maybe so.gif ► if they were an animal ➔ cheetah! ► if they were a color ➔ beige. no longer the pure white she once was, but not the tar pit that she could have been, either. a beautiful mixture of purities and imperfections. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *going through the five stages of grief* HHHHHHHHH !!!!! someone just slid in my dms and *voice cracking* this is what they said.... *sobbing* gIRL.... *sniffle* HNNNNNN..... you should sell hoT DOGs.... ‘cause you know how to make a weiner stand. hNNNNNN.... HNNNNN!!!!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ shake it off. ► aesthetic ➔ paint-stained overalls, tear tracks covered in glitter and flower petals, crooked fingers snagging the last slice of pizza out the box, thick-framed glasses with the lens popped out, it’s for the aesthetic, sharpie’d converse kicks and open hearts doodled onto the palm of your hand –– darling girl, someone will really love you one day. ► motto ➔ “it really do be like that sometimes.” ► theme song ➔ lights up by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟐.     ›     amari rose kent.

► hobbies ➔ writing, mostly out of spite. in middle school, she had a meeting with the principal, during which he told her she was at risk of being expelled, due to how many teachers had issues with her. this was the same principal who told her she would never get anywhere, hanging off of tate’s coattails, so she wrote a 50-page paper in the span of one week, shaming the school for its discrimination and unethical practices when it came to students. instead of giving the paper to the principal, she submitted it to the board of education and got the man fired. not only did the essay make it onto local news, it also got her a scholarship to devenford prep; lucky, since tatum had already been offered a scholarship and was on the verge of turning it down because she wouldn’t go without amari. though she hasn’t spitefully written anything that huge since, she is still not afraid to thinkshame. also dabbles in poetry and collage-making. ► social media handles ➔ amari_rose on twitter and instagram. she surprisingly does not have a snapchat! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, she’s giving nicknames. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ she doesn’t play video games, so she doesn’t know. ► favorite song ➔ bad guy by billie eilish. ► favorite scent ➔ not to kinkshame, but.... leather. ► favorite band/artist ➔ billie eilish, she is not ashamed! ► favorite place to be ➔ wherever tate and owen are, honestly. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ bullshit. ► favorite meme ➔ thA’TS MY OPINION !!!! ► if they were an animal ➔ panther. ► if they were a color ➔ silver. black is a hard color to obtain and she hardly comes close. she’s got all the darkness she doesn’t need, but the world put that in her. still, she’s close to light, too; close to breathing in sunlight. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ to the mIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER –– yes, YOU, you know who you are –– who said EYE would never be shit, LOOK AT ME NOW, WHORE ! LOOK AT ME NOW .... not shit. and HOW YOU LIKE IT ? *twerks belligerently* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔  sad beautiful tragic. ► aesthetic ➔ messily chopped hair in the bathroom sink, tongue poked out to lick ketchup off of nimble fingers, rushed words in a lost diary, a bottle drifting out at sea, cigarette smoke and tequila-coated daydreams, harsh breaths in and out and in and out, bruised knuckles and bleeding lips, we’re not done here. ► motto ➔ “chin up, chest out.” ► theme song ➔ all the good girls go to hell by billie eilish. alternatively, kiwi by harry styles.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑.     ›     camden wesley layton lahey.

► hobbies ➔ he took up woodworking a few years back. therapy and whatnot. he likes making little birds and figurines out of wood, keeps a box of them in his nightstand. ► social media handles ➔ he’s not on social media! he’s old, leave him alone. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. again, he’s old, leave him! ► favorite color ➔ grassy green. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s always going to be a sucker for mario party. that game is unfairly frustrating, but he would ride or die for it. ► favorite song ➔ i of the storm by of monsters and men. ► favorite scent ➔ peppermint! it used to make him sick, because it’s such a strong smell, but it’s now his absolute favorite thing in the world. ► favorite band/artist ➔ gorillaz. ► favorite place to be ➔ he honestly prefers closed spaces? tight spaces where he can see every corner, every entrance, every exit, every tile on the floor. whenever he starts panicking, he will sneak away to the nearest closet or something. ► favorite season ➔ spring. rebirth, babyyy. ► favorite word ➔ dammit. ► favorite meme ➔ it’s free real estate. ► if they were an animal ➔ german shepard. ► if they were a color ➔ light pink. this strange mix between the pure white of being a blank slate and the awful red of having spilled more blood than he can even remember. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ AWWWWWWW 😍😍 awww, i’m gonna die alone 🤗🤗🤗 awww !!! i’m never gonna know what it’s like to be LOVED, AWWWWWW !!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ holy ground. ► aesthetic ➔ sweat-dotted skin, racing heart, jingling dog tags, checking the locks on the door once and then again and then again and once more just to be sure, hesitant hands and wet eyes, a smile that’s easy even when nothing else is, sunlight pouring in through a cracked window, a step closer to an answer, five steps back. ► motto ➔ “sure, jan.” ► theme song ➔ clint eastwood by gorillaz.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒.     ›     charles gerard argent.

► hobbies ➔ someone should tell him that working out isn’t a personality trait, but it really is his hobby. your depression can’t catch up to you, if you’re getting these gainz. ► social media handles ➔ he’s charliecharlie on everything, because he’s funny. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ it used to be creative, but man, that depression hit him hard and he switched to conventional. ► favorite color ➔ white. ► favorite video game ➔ fortnite, shut the fuck up, liam, he doesn’t want to hear it. ► favorite song ➔ perfect ruin by kwabs. ► favorite scent ➔ salt water. ► favorite band/artist ➔ clairo. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the beach. he takes frequent drives up to the closest beach, ► favorite season ➔ summer. beach time! all the time! ► favorite word ➔ yeet. ► favorite meme ➔ y E E T. ► if they were an animal ➔ raven. ► if they were a color ➔ a myriad of colors; there are so many facets to charlie and until he figures out exactly where he is in life, he’s going to keep creating a puddle of colors. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *dancing and singing to the tune of under the sea* ptsd 🤪 anxiety 🤪 crippling depression, there is no question, you should kill me !! let me be with HARAMBE 😤✊ i feel like shit every day ! i’m asking nicely, do it by drowning, under da sea 🌊🌊 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ getaway car. ► aesthetic ➔ that damnable water’s edge, the view from the top of a mountain, gnawed fingernails and scraped skin, 11:11 and back again, holstered knives and picturesque smiles, droplets of blood spilled into cold coffee, palm grazing the door to happiness but not quite opening it yet ––– another day and you might just make it. ► motto ➔ “que ce sang protège ceux qui ne peuvent se protéger.” ► theme song ➔ broken bones by kaleo.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓.     ›     cora vienna hale.

► hobbies ➔ lowkey has a love of mechanics. she doesn’t trust anyone else to repair her bike, so she learned how to do it herself. also learned how to fix cars, because scott is always messing his up. also still plays soccer when she has the time. ► social media handles ➔ she’s just corahale on everything. it’s more “professional” than what she had before. which was... a series of expletives that made lydia blush. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless she really hates you. then she can get creative. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ detroit: become human. ► favorite song ➔ hold on just a little while longer from d:bh. luther snapped. ► favorite scent ➔ pinecones. ► favorite band/artist ➔ bryson tiller. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house. it feels good to be able to go there again and not be assaulted with all of the reminders of what she lost. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ buttercup. look her in the eye and tell her it’s not the cutest word you’ve ever heard. exactly, you can’t. ► favorite meme ➔ looks into the camera like she’s on the office. ► if they were an animal ➔ lion. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. pure and beautiful; maybe not innocent, maybe not for everyone. but royal and bold and unrelenting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ sO... .i just went to starbucks and i got my iced coffee and i was standing in line and these little girls were looking at me. *sniff* and i was like, “okay, funny joke.” so i, um, i’m s–– i’m waiting for my coffee, uh, at starbucks, and these other little girls were just, like, LOOKING AT ME and they kept on staring and then this DAD kept on looking and then he kept on staring. and *uncomfortable laughter* ....... *more laughter* ..... *turns on music* *keeps laughing* *turns music off* what kind of sick fucking joke ? .... *uncomfortable shrugging* ...i EXIST ? *more laughter* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ clean. ► aesthetic ➔ a horrid red fire meets a river of blue, gasoline stains on faded tees, an unexpected smile on a rainy day, the way the forest breathes after a rainstorm, skintight dresses and haughty gazes, a smirk that rests for no one, the innocence of a white wolf in a prom dress. ► motto ➔ “flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo.” ► theme song ➔ big god by florence and the machine. alt. the man by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟔.     ›     daniel nahele mahealani.

► hobbies ➔ he no longer loves hacking or music, because... whew, high school killed everything he cared about. mostly sticks to being lydia’s dress up doll. ► social media handles ➔ he’s d-annyboy on all things, because it’s easy! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless he’s trying to hide something from jackson and lydia. lydia is not afraid to go through his phone, which he genuinely doesn’t mind, that’s why she knows all of his passwords and stuff. but he does not need her to know how many guys he’s fucked that she didn’t like, he’s not here for the lectures. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ wii sports still outsells, he is not taking criticism or debate on this topic. ► favorite song ➔ magic in the hamptons by social house. ► favorite scent ➔ hot chocolate. ► favorite band/artist ➔ childish gambino. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the risk of being gay, wherever theo is. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ pack. he loves feeling loved, sue him. ► favorite meme ➔ kermit spreading his asshole. ► if they were an animal ➔ elephant. ► if they were a color ➔ orange; just on the cusp of happiness, but always holding back. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ hEY GUYS, i’m just really co–– really confused, ‘cause what does fall have to do with fuckboys 🧐🤔 ‘cause I’VE been fucking boys .... EVERY MONTH, winter, fucking februarymarchaprilmay, june, december... dULY ... *someone taps on the trunk of the car* *looks back* ...that’s my dad *frantic zoom-in* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ afterglow. ► aesthetic ➔ scar-littered skin and callused hands, abandoned hobbies and hopes and dreams, all stashed to the back of the infamous closet, dimples cheeked and optimistic eyes, high school jerseys folded in the drawer, letterman jackets treated like sacrosanct, the memory of when things were simpler and the rain didn’t last so long.  ► motto ➔ “this could be worse.” ► theme song ➔ clementine by halsey.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟕.     ›     derek alexander hale.

► hobbies ➔ book collecting. as their lives continue to not make sense, he collects books on any and every odd ‘myth’ out there and just waits for the day it comes in handy. ► social media handles ➔ lydia has made him dhale on everything, because he’s boring. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. he now has a lock on every app in his phone, because fiona and lydia will happily break into his phone to change his contacts, if he’s not careful. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ he doesn’t often play video games, but he will school these youngsters in a game of yahtzee! ► favorite song ➔ when doves cry by prince. ► favorite scent ➔ something baking in the oven. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prince. no, he is not talking about it. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house, when the entire pack is there. close second is the loft, when everyone is there. he’ll complain until he’s blue in the face, but everyone knows he’s secretly weak for that. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ no. ► favorite meme ➔ blinking white guy. ► if they were an animal ➔ i... a wolf. ► if they were a color ➔ tree bark brown; steady and stern and stable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *standing at the bathroom door, glaring* if it breaks. one more time. don’t ––– shut your mouth. if it breaks while i’m sleeping, i will grab you by the neck and shove you down the shower drain. *continues to glare* ......... i’m going to take my shower now. *slowly and threateningly closes the door* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ daylight. ► aesthetic ➔ shattered handcuffs, ashes spread across the floor, delayed inhales and painful exhales, a pool of flowers at your feet ––– begin again. ► motto ➔ “no.” ► theme song ➔ sinnerman by nina simone.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟖.     ›     dominic joseph kim.

► hobbies ➔ yoga, meditation, brewery, skin and haircare routines, and swimming! a king stays busy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s domkimi on snapchat, instagram and twitter, but he’s baddiebbarbietingz on reddit. he has a tumblr account, but he refuses to tell the pack what his username is. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative. feel free to look through his phone, but good fucking luck figuring out who is who. ► favorite color ➔ gold. ► favorite video game ➔ sims 4. he gets the chance to actually build a sustainable life? with a family? in a house? with cheat codes? and love? and aliens? and lovers who become plants? sign him the fuck up. ► favorite song ➔ would you mind by prettymuch. good form by nicki minaj is a close runner-up. ‘cause he do, in fact, be the baddie b barbie tingz banging body b, everybody be on his d, cause he gotta be in reality–– ► favorite scent ➔ pizza! if it’s not good for you, why does it smell so good? make it make sense. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prettymuch. ► favorite place to be ➔ tate’s lab! it’s where he and owen do most of their brewing, aside from their field trips to the greenhouse to get more ingredients. it’s basically where dominic does his best and calmest work. close second is his own apartment, because he does yoga in the living room each morning. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ cecelia. ► favorite meme ➔ who said that.gif. ► if they were an animal ➔ a turtle! specifically, one of the turtles from finding nemo. ► if they were a color ➔ blue. calm and collected. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ so i said i’m a switch on tiktok, right ? and now all these ladies are comin’ out of the woodwork like, “hey, i got a strap-on and a dog collar with your name on it ! ” 😳😳 and i’m like... you put my name on it ? 😍👉👈  /// alternatively: theee necklace my boyfriend bought me just came in the mail *zoom in on necklace* ....I’M my boyfriend ! i bought this for myself ! EEE *excited grin* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ style. ► aesthetic ➔ the push and pull of a tidal wave, a dash of eyeliner here and a bit of mascara there, collared shirts and wrinkled jeans, overrated pop over a bluetooth speaker, a fascination with milkshakes and musicals, a heart that beats out of rhythm but never misses a step. ► motto ➔ “the birds work for the bourgeoisie.” ► theme song ➔ good thing by zedd and kehlani.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟗.     ›     elliot james aldridge.

► hobbies ➔ aside from his bathtub poetry and crime, he has revived his love of cooking and music. is masterful at the piano, guitar and harp, dabbles in cello and flute. he likes his music pretty, okay, sue him. ► social media handles ➔ redacted by the fcc. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ depends on how much he likes you! if you’re kosher, you get a creative name. if not... you get your own name. ► favorite color ➔ blood red. unironically. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s a poker man, but if he has to choose a video game, meet him in super smash brothers. ► favorite song ➔ say so by doja cat. ► favorite scent ➔ blood. ► favorite band/artist ➔ hozier. ► favorite place to be ➔ no offense, but the french quarter in new orleans. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ self-care. ► favorite meme ➔ why would you say something so controversial, yet so brave? ► if they were an animal ➔ hyena. one of the asshole ones from lion king. ► if they were a color ➔ red. he’s not hiding that. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’mnotfallingi’mnotfallingi’mnotfalling, i’m not f a l l i n g, i’m not FALLING, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not fALLING....... !! *deep breath* oKAY, i’m falling. /// alternative: the oNLY reason i have not destroyed the world is because i have not had ice cream in a while, i want some ice cream. but tRUST ME, when i get some ice cream ? your ass is grass and i’m the lawn mower ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ ready for it? ► aesthetic ➔ a hoop of sterling silver, initials carved into dying trees, tempting eyes and a charming smile, cufflinks left on the nightstand, a prison cell and a funny story, top three buttons left undone, far too aware for his own damn good. ► motto ➔ "excuse me, i'm new in town and it gets worse." ► theme song ➔ sunlight by hozier.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟎.     ›     erica juliet reyes.

► hobbies ➔ tracking deucalion and peter, for one thing, but that’s more of a job than anything else. does raving count as a hobby? she’s officially taken up rock climbing, by the way. a huge slap in the face to her epilepsy. ► social media handles ➔ she changes her handles frequently, because she’s indecisive, she can’t decide–– but she’s currently reyofsunshine on everything. shoutout to fiona. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative and often explicit! ► favorite color ➔ sand brown, don’t @ her. ► favorite video game ➔ until dawn. understand the palm of my hand, bitch.... jesus hot sauce christmas cake.... what were you tweeting, hashtag there’s a freaking ghost after us? your fave could never! ► favorite song ➔ hot girl bummer by blackbear. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy or fee’s baking. she’ll come home just for that. ► favorite band/artist ➔ blackbear. ► favorite place to be ➔ at a party. she’s very into raves. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ motherfucker. ► favorite meme ➔ respect the drip, karen. ► if they were an animal ➔ a horse. enticingly beautiful but will also kill you. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. not as pure as cora’s gold, but twice as inviting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ all i’m gonna say is that i didn’t take ap classes in high school, escape the friend zone, graduate with honors, get cheated on, go to college, mentally deteriorate, become addicted to nicotine, sign a year lease, drop a sorority, fail chemistry and dye my hair purple, just to cry over the frat boy leaving me on read that smokes weed for breakfast, lunch and dinner 💁🏼 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ false god. ► aesthetic ➔ push-up bras covered in black lace, smeared lipstick against the bathroom mirror, jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, a wolf that lies in wait and fears no god, the epitome of poison. ► motto ➔ “meanwhile, back at the ranch...” ► theme song ➔ needed me by rihanna.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟏.     ›     fiona evelyn porter.

► hobbies ➔ baking, pinterest, cheer, volleyball and softball. truly depends on the season. ► social media handles ➔ feezypeezyporter stays true to her brand. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! her contact ids are indecipherable, the only people who can understand them are katie and cass. dom gave up. ► favorite color ➔ light green and light pink! ► favorite video game ➔ beat saber! ► favorite song ➔ love again by carly rae jepsen. ► favorite scent ➔ is.... is it gay to say cass? ► favorite band/artist ➔ carly rae jepsen. ► favorite place to be ➔ the loft! it really is her happiest place. alternatively, wherever cass is, ‘cause that’s home, babey! ► favorite season ➔ spring! baby sticks to her brand. ► favorite word ➔ braggadocio. how on EARTH is that a real word? ► favorite meme ➔ let me see what you have. a kNIFE! NO! ► if they were an animal ➔ cardinal. ► if they were a color ➔ green. the color of grass, covering everything, everything, everything. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *crying and sipping tea* it... is ver .... very b... bold of you to assume ............. ! *pained smile*  /// alternatively: ONE OF YOU FAT BITCHES UNFOLLOWED ME !!! *manic laughter* i’m not mad, but like...... *climbs onto bathroom sink and leans in very close* what was the last straw ? ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ me! ► aesthetic ➔ bare lips passing over green leaves, a lullaby to a struggling orchid, spanks and sweat drops and a desperate need for approval, a digital scale blinking red numbers back at you, pills of white and blue and yellow, maybe tomorrow you’ll be happy again. ► motto ➔ “team work makes the dream work!” ► theme song ➔ work this out from the high school musical 2 soundtrack.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟐.     ›     hayden louisa romero.

► hobbies ➔ she has a love of sports. got into lacrosse before her imprisonment, though she was a little too fragile to play a real game. was a soccer star as a kid. also puts on glamour shows for the kids and the dogs, if they ask. ► social media handles ➔ she doesn’t have social media. imprisonment tingz. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, you get an emoji or two at the end of your name. ► favorite color ➔ ocean blue. ► favorite video game ➔ will forever be weak for pokémon. ► favorite song ➔ 1985 by bowling for soup. timeless. ► favorite scent ➔ french vanilla. ► favorite band/artist ➔ she’s getting into melanie martinez. ► favorite place to be ➔ bias goes to being with the ito pack, but the preserve is pretty much paradise. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ covenant. ► favorite meme ➔ and i oop––– ► if they were an animal ➔ manta ray. harmless babey. ► if they were a color ➔ prism clear. a maze of reflections, but so fucking breakable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ you mess with ME ? w ..... ! y...... ! *vague hand movements* you probably aren’t gonna experience any problems, because i’m afraid of confrontation !! /// alternative: *struggling to place lamp inside of another lamp* i JUST TOOK A TEN HOUR NAP ??? *panic* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ it’s nice to have a friend. ► aesthetic ➔ scars lifted among tanned skin, wary glances to read every room, crop tops floating above your belly, a lack of cares for a world that cares a little too much, marked skin and glossed lips, wanna make a deal with an angel? ► motto ➔ “my priority is me.” ► theme song ➔ i know by pink sweat$.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟑.     ›     judith wendy mayer-argent.

► hobbies ➔ biking! she does it primarily for work, but she also does it for fun. also, huge gamer. and protestor. baby keeps busy. ► social media handles ➔ mayerjude. she can make so many jokes out of her own last name, don’t tempt her. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! unless it’s someone important or authoritative. then they get their own name. ► favorite color ➔ sunshine yellow. ► favorite video game ➔ fornite. ► favorite song ➔ sunday candy by donnie trumpet and the social experiment. ► favorite scent ➔ cupcakes! the frosting! the delicacy! ► favorite band/artist ➔ maroon 5. ► favorite place to be ➔ in the middle of a protest, rally or march. if she’s not in action, then what is she doing? ► favorite season ➔ spring. ► favorite word ➔ audit. ► favorite meme ➔ surprised pikachu. ► if they were an animal ➔ dolphin. ► if they were a color ➔ sunset orange. no, i will not elaborate. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *walking down the street* so we were peer reviewing papers in one of my classes aaaand this girl goes, “you use some FANCY LANGUAGE ! ” and i was like, “what word ? ” and she was like, “perpetuate.” .........on GOD, we gon’ get you a dictionary. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ don’t blame me. ► aesthetic ➔ sunflowers pushing up from freshly dug graves, a smile away to keep the doctors away, sprained wrists wrapped in inappropriate laughter, bruised knuckles and black eyes, drink in hand, swinging your hips to that voicemail left by your toxic ex-boyfriend. ► motto ➔ “just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...” ► theme song ➔ modern love by david bowie.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟒.     ›     kali kaira laghari.

► hobbies ➔ knitting. she has abandoned all of her self-care and therapy ideals, now knits and talks to ghosts. mind ya business. ► social media handles ➔ she’s not on social media, either. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. she has no times for games. ► favorite color ➔ red. she’s a scorpio, what do you expect? ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but she’ll take mortal kombat any day. ► favorite song ➔ nintendo game by alessia cara. ► favorite scent ➔ tea! ► favorite band/artist ➔ alessia cara. ► favorite place to be ➔ aside from wherever rohan is, she prefers the bookstore. confrontations aside, it’s a very small space, quiet and relaxing. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ goddess. and yes, for exactly the reason you think. ► favorite meme ➔ as a treat. ► if they were an animal ➔ scorpion. ► if they were a color ➔ smoky grey. everything’s a little hazy with this one. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *staring at the food on the table, slowly losing her mind while everyone else argues over murder* *holds head in hands* *bangs hands on table repeatedly, screaming* WHAT ARE WE THANKFUL FOR !!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ i did something bad. ► aesthetic ➔ cross-legged sitting in the middle of the road, waiting for a new thrill, fingertips grazing the harsh blade beneath your skirt, popcorn and wine with a man you could’ve loved if you were both a little less fucked up, a question that should never be answered, a world-view that should never be defiled –––– and you did it all. ► motto ➔ “i don’t need permission or advice; just help.” ► theme song ➔ simmer by hayley williams. you should see me in a crown by billie eilish.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟓.     ›     kira fuyuko yukimura.

► hobbies ➔ she trains to keep herself calm. often talks with her fox nowadays; she wants to build trust. and given that kira is doing fuck all to deal with her issues, she needs someone to talk to her. she and her fox get along a lot better these days. she also runs, practices lacrosse maneuvers on her own and plays with lightbulbs.  ► social media handles ➔ she’s a simple woman: kyuki. cut the fluff, cut the extraness. also, kyuki is what she’s named her fox.  ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, save for people who warrant a creative one. aka those whose names she doesn’t know. you would be surprised at how many there are. ► favorite color ➔ purple. ► favorite video game ➔ also a fan of animal crossing! ► favorite song ➔ ahead of myself by the ambassadors. ► favorite scent ➔ cinnamon. ► favorite band/artist ➔ the ambassadors. ► favorite place to be ➔ it’s dorky to say, but she likes being with her parents! they’re still in new york, so she doesn’t get that chance as much. however, her second favorite place to be is.... her bed. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ poppy. ► favorite meme ➔ guess i’ll die.png ► if they were an animal ➔ truly a fox. ► if they were a color ➔ steel blue. baby is electric. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i might be a BIG, DUMB, GAY BITCH ................ !! *smirks at camera* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ cruel summer. ► aesthetic ➔ a thunderstorm in your bedroom, leather gloves pulled over dainty hands, quick footwork and sly gazes, untied shoe laces dragging across the floor, leggings beneath skirts, quiet meditation before bed, sharp teeth poking into bruised lips. ► motto ➔ “yeah, this isn’t weird at all.” ► theme song ➔ fall in line by christina aguilera and demi lovato.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟔.     ›     liam stephen dunbar.

► hobbies ➔ lacrosse no longer counts as a hobby, considering he made it his entire life. does training with allison count as a hobby? does texting gwen bad jokes count? ‘cause that’s all he does, my guy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s dvnbcr on everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, until fiona gets her hands on his phone and changes his ids again. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s that guy who plays all of the 2k nba games. like, he has to stan. ► favorite song ➔ i don’t care by fall out boy. ► favorite scent ➔ turf. he’s a loser, what do you expect? ► favorite band/artist ➔ fall out boy and kendrick lamar are tied. ► favorite place to be ➔ the lacrosse field. he does not stray from his brand. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. lax season! ► favorite word ➔ shit. fuck is a close runner-up. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ve won.... but at what cost? ► if they were an animal ➔ rhinoceros.  ► if they were a color ➔ gray; that perfect intersection between white and black, good and bad, wolf and bomb. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *talking to his mom while she’s watching tv.* hey, mom? will you pause that? you know that guy i’m talking to is 6′4″? can’t wait to get my shit wrecked. so you are a bottom. ...wait. okay, i.... that’s not what you’re supposed to say! what am i supposed to say? don’t –– not that! *goes to sit next to her* i’m 👏 not 👏 a 👏 bottom 👏. bullshit. *confused look of betrayal* is this legal? have you ever done anything for anybody else? no, you’re a taker. /// alternatively: *trying to start a fire* hope so ! you gonna let the fire breathe or you gonna fuckin’ suffocate it ? i will end your goddamn short ass piece of shit useless life. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ this is why we can’t have nice things. ► aesthetic ➔ a rage that you can never quite tame, hand broken from too many punches, the green of fresh cut grass, car mileage piling up, miles and miles and miles left to go, bashful smiles and reddened skin. kid, you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are. ► motto ➔ “i blame scott.” ► theme song ➔ dr. whoever by aminé.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟕.     ›     lydia charlene martin.

► hobbies ➔ sewing clothes, throwing parties, picking up new languages, ruling the world, saving this pack from falling apart, doing everything in this goddamn house! ► social media handles ➔ queenlydia, but who’s surprised? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ convention meets creativity in lydia’s phone. everyone has their first name, with a lord/lady/duke/duchess/etc. attached to it. jackson is the only one with king, obviously. you know you’re in trouble when she attaches peasant to your name. good luck climbing your way back up the ladder. ► favorite color ➔ pink. ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but dead by daylight is that bitch. ► favorite song ➔ honey by kesha. ► favorite scent ➔ strawberries. ► favorite band/artist ➔ kesha. ► favorite place to be ➔ in jackson’s arms, she is not taking that back. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ throne and jackson are tied. ► favorite meme ➔ why are you booing me? i’m right! ► if they were an animal ➔ swan. ► if they were a color ➔ purple. royalty is not a game, kids. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ not a vine or tiktok, but yes, it’s me 💅🏽 & you guys are mad about it ohmygod i make y’all feel that 🤢 well, i just wanted to pop up here & show y'all how i'm doing ! i'm doing great. i'm looking great, i'm feeling great, y'know 💇🏽 i'm obviously over here very booked & busy, while you bitches over here are still looking raggedy & not doing shit ! hahaha ! WOW ! 💁🏽 but anyway, um, i just wanted to let y'all know i'm not going anywhere. so talk your shit, you shitholes ! you can't defeat a bad bitch ! you just cannot do that ! i rise above that ! EW 🤮 so i just wanted to say hey ! & that i'm here to stayyy ! & you gon' be mad everydayyy ! HAHAHA ! SUCCESS ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ paper rings. ► aesthetic ➔ a crown that fits just perfect, newly manicured nails, breakfasts at tiffany’s and on decorated balconies, the picture on the altar, damp curls and loose braids, tight dresses and sinful heels, brave but never fearless. ► motto ➔ “i’m lydia fucking martin.” ► theme song ➔ okay, okay by alessia cara.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟖.     ›     scott lucas mccall.

► hobbies ➔ video games! he also likes helping the pack renovate whenever they decide to. though he has put fiona on a limit. after she redesigned her room five times in two weeks, he finally had to put his foot down. ► social media handles ➔ he is the most disorganized of the bunch. he’s scootermccall on snapchat, scottymccall on instagram, scotthewmccall on twitter because he’s weak for whatever fiona asks. it’s a mess, but he’s not changing. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, but with lots of emojis to show he cares. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he wants to say mario kart, because that’s his and lucy’s thing and, um, he’s in love with her. but other than that! life is strange. he hasn’t figured out how to win yet, but gosh dammit, that’s not going to stop him from trying.  ► favorite song ➔ dna by lia marie johnson. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy’s perfume! ► favorite band/artist ➔ panic! at the disco. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the vet! he’s so happy when he’s around animals and it feels good to know that he’s helping these animals get better? ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ lucy. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ll be honest, i can’t read. ► if they were an animal ➔ golden retriever. ► if they were a color ➔ yellow. speaks for itself. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i had an essay that was due at 11:59. instead of being a smart, responsible student, i decided to wait until 11:40 .... to START my essay. i finished the essay on time. but the gag is............. it was a five-page essay. and i got it done in sixteen minutes. *dancing* they gon’ hate me regardless, that’s why i do what i do ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ state of grace. ► aesthetic ➔ a lighthouse drawing in the lost, the open door of a sunken ship, wrongly buttoned plaid shirts, clumsy fingers and stumbling feet, saddened eyes that follow healing hands, the suspension of disbelief ––– whatever that means. ► motto ➔ “everything will work out!” ► theme song ➔ only the young by taylor swift.

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟗.     ›     tatum coretta bellfleur.

► hobbies ➔ nanotech mechanics! she learned as a way to make things for owen and amari that they couldn’t afford to buy. won a few competitions, got a few scholarships, got into programs that taught her how to do greater things than she’d ever imagined. took up baton twirling at devenford, but gave it up when she got to college. fiona is trying to convince her take it up again next year. ► social media handles ➔ she’s tatertot on everything, courtesy of one judith mayer. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. keep it simple, thanks. ► favorite color ➔ silver! it’s so pretty. ► favorite video game ➔ death stranding. no, she will not elaborate. ► favorite song ➔ mo money mo problems by notorious b.i.g.  ► favorite scent ➔ flowers! ► favorite band/artist ➔ tupac. yes, she is that bitch. ► favorite place to be ➔ her lab. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ free. ► favorite meme ➔ you know i had to do it to ‘em. ► if they were an animal ➔ doe. ► if they were a color ➔ white. no matter how much she hates being protected, she’s the picture of purity. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *sitting in front of a mirror.* maybe.......... i’m the problem 🤨 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ out of the woods. ► aesthetic ➔ a blanket of snow covering the grime and pain of yesterday, contained explosions and soft humming, tight ponytails breaking cheap rubber bands, tongue poking out the side of your mouth, the sun peeking through the slits of your blinds, wondering where you’ve been these last couple’a days. ► motto ➔ “i’ve lived through this before, i’ll live through it again.” ► theme song ➔ 100 years by florence and the machine.

[justanotherboyinblue]

Unusual Asks

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? spotify!! 

is your room messy or clean? ...depends if i don’t have company, or i haven’t been made to clean it, it’s relatively messy. well. it’s not messy to me, because i know where everything is and why things are...not...put away, but messy to Literally Everyone Else

what color are your eyes? brown!

do you like your name? why? i Love my name mostly because i chose it and i like how it sounds I Just Think It’s Neat

what is your relationship status? taken! i have two beautiful partners that i love very very much

describe your personality in 3 words or less Chaotic Disaster Gay

what color hair do you have? also brown dkjbsgalk

what kind of car do you drive? color? i don’t drive! don’t have my license yet

where do you shop? anywhere and everywhere alksjdb meijer? ig?

how would you describe your style? Grunge

favorite social media account discord! ‘s how i talk to my babies :3

what size bed do you have? a twin! v comfy, v bouncy

any siblings? unfortunately two brothers both are Assholes

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? switzerland honestly first of all, lgbtq+ has been legal there since 1942 like look at them Go oh my gosh also! i love german, it’s such a fascinating language but the biggest reason? that’s where moje rojena wants to live

favorite snapchat filter? i don’t have snapchat, and don’t really plan to kjasbdl

favorite makeup brand(s) don’t wear it! the only thing i use is chapstick lmao a wonderful vanilla chapstick by Eos

how many times a week do you shower? sometimes every night, but mostly every other night! so three or four

favorite tv show? oh gosh there are so many she-ra is probably at the top i love supernatural, and elementary, bbc sherlock, person of interest, steven universe there are a bunch of amazing shows i love!

shoe size? i think i wear like a ten and a half quadruple e do with that as you will

how tall are you? 5′4 i think probably

sandals or sneakers? flip flops!! or barefoot kadjbsgl

do you go to the gym? i don’t think i’ve ever even seen the inside of a gym

describe your dream date cuddle pile some show or movie on tv So Many Blankets but the most important thing the Most Important thing is that my babies are with me and that’s all i really need

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? i don’t have any cash, but i have like a little over $50 on my card

what color socks are you wearing? white with gray designs

how many pillows do you sleep with? normally three, but i’ll bring in another three if i want to build a Nest:tm:

do you have a job? what do you do? no job! i think my first job will be working at my local library

how many friends do you have? uhhhhhhh no idea a dozen? idk maybe half a dozen i really have no idea, and i have a horrible memory

what's the worst thing you have ever done? I Will Not Divulge Such Information

what's your favorite candle scent? there’s this one candle we have that’s tide+kelp scented but it just smells like a speedstick it’s awesome

3 favorite boy names Leo (obviously) Tobias Axel

3 favorite girl names L(again, obviously) Celeste i’ve always loved the name Andromeda as well! 

favorite actor? Ezra Miller!! they’re a nonbinary icon, first of all, and they’re an amazing actor in my opinion! they’re Credence in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Barry in Justice Leauge

favorite actress? hmmmmmmmmmm probably Margot Robbie tbh love her stuff also? have you seen the trailer for Birds of Prey? we Stan

who is your celebrity crush? don’t have one kjdsablg

favorite movie? oh gosh I Cannot Choose A Favorite Anything Okay i love Avatar(the one with the blue aliens not the Disgrace Of A Movie), and The Dark Knight, Captain Marvel, Abominable, and so many others

do you read a lot? what's your favorite book? i do! i used to read almost a full book every day Finding Me by Katheryn Cushman is really good, and so is Five Feet Apart, i love the Divergent series too!

money or brains? brains duh, if you’re smart you can make more money but if you’re an idiot with money what happens when you run out

do you have a nickname? what is it? not really kjabdsga my partners have their nicknames for me of course, but with my actual name you can’t have a lot of nicknames Leo calls me Q, i’ve been called Stefano and Viktor, one friend used Quimberly for a while akjfgbslkdfg

how many times have you been to the hospital? other than when i was born, i think only the once!

top 10 favorite songs Here We Go sweet tooth-Scott Helman adderall- Max Frost bambi- Hippo Campus roxxane- Arizona Zervas grixtronics- GRiZ iSpy- KYLE truth hurts- kidz bop (fuck off it slaps) walk man- TMG mr.clean- Yung Gravy peach scone- Hobo Johnson

do you take any medications daily? nope! 

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) definitely oily

what is your biggest fear? Ya Boi Out Here With Abandonment Issues

how many kids do you want? i’ll stick with my fur babies thank you very much

what's your go-to hairstyle? in my face covering my right eye so i can’t see with it because it annoys my mother and i think i look Hot

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) medium i would think? we don’t have a second floor or a finished basement, but i’ve never had to bunk with either of my brothers so

who is your role model? no one specific! just, kind people, yk? 

what was the last compliment you received? i think it was on...monday? when Leo kept telling me i was adorable XD

what was the last text you sent? to a gc with my partners saying i was going mia because I Have The Right To Not Interact With Anyone For Several Days And Watch Movies  no i will not be taking criticism

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? like somewhere from seven to nine i think i have no idea dude, i have the memory of a goldfish

what is your dream car? .... 1967 black chevy impala

opinion on smoking? bad for you, love the smell, not gonna tell you to stop, will just worry quietly in the corner because i won’t tell you what to do with your life

do you go to college? nope! still in high school, i probably won’t go to college tbh

what is your dream job? owning my own bookstore! with a cafe a cat cafe i have it planned out to a concerning degree

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? i’ve lived in one place my entire life and it’s on the side of the highway with no neighbors so Suburbs Be Like Scary

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? oh absolutely

do you have freckles? no and i’m salty about it

do you smile for pictures? of course! never with my teeth tho because my canines are halfway up my face :)

how many pictures do you have on your phone? don’t have a phone! i have a Whole Bunch on my computer though

have you ever peed in the woods? did not work out tried once Never Again

do you still watch cartoons? of course i do i’m gay it’s legally required

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonald's? i’ve never had McDonald's nuggets but Wendy’s has the best for sure

Favorite dipping sauce? ranch or campfire sauce

what do you wear to bed? pajamas???? in winter it’s long sleeve tees with fuzzy pants in summer it’s basketball shorts and whatever twenty-year-old shirt i can find in my closet

have you ever won a spelling bee? i’ve never entered one so no homeschool for the win

what are your hobbies? Anything On A Screen and books mostly books on a screen but i’ll occasionally pick up a paperback also food and swimming

can you draw? s o m e t i m e s

do you play an instrument? i played guitar for a while, but i broke one of the strings and don’t have the tools to replace it i really want a ukelele

what was the last concert you saw? i went to a college campus for four days with my youth group, and a band named Sing Love played every night

tea or coffee? Neither

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Also Neither i’ve been to starbucks one time and it was the most disappointing drink i’ve ever had i am a loyal biggby customer  even though i haven’t been there in over a year

do you want to get married? not in the traditional sense i couldn’t even if i wanted to because the us said No Polyam Rights

what is your crush’s first and last initial? L.R. + L.G.

are you going to change your last name when you get married? probably! or we’ll both take a new one together

what color looks best on you? warm colors!! i do look Fabulous in a nice cool forest green though

do you miss anyone right now? Of Course I Do I’m In A Long Distance Relationship With Two People

do you sleep with your door open or closed? closed if it was open my asshole cat would eat all my hair ties and my fairy lights

do you believe in ghosts? nope! 

what is your biggest pet peeve? uh people who assume? ig?

last person you called? Leo XD

favorite ice cream flavor? mint chocolate chip!!

regular oreos or golden oreos? The Golden Ones  they taste like lemon even if they’re not the lemon ones i love it

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? i don’t like sprinkles because i’m a Monster

what shirt are you wearing? i’m Not It’s Hoodie Season

what is your phone background? my tablet backgrounds are Leo and L because i’m a Sap

are you outgoing or shy? Both i’m getting a lot better in the confidence department, but i still get nervous and overwhelmed sometimes!

do you like it when people play with your hair? I Cry Every Time and so does Leo it’s adorable

do you like your neighbors? if i did i would hate them because i Can

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? not outside of the shower

have you ever been high? nope

have you ever been drunk? nope

last thing you ate? leftover itallian mac n cheese

favorite lyrics right now ..... ................. raindrops on rose and whiskers on kittens~ sTICKING-

summer or winter? winter!!

day or night? night, of course

dark, milk, or white chocolate? milk! or dark with sea salt

favorite month? hm maybe august because it’s just starting to get cold, but you can also still swim on the warm days

what is your zodiac sign pisces! as i’m sure is obvious

who was the last person you cried in front of? my mother Because Leaving Me Alone For Five Minutes Is Impossible

thank you Luxet for the questions!

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 1: Vegas Notes

Okay, I’m going to try to write up some notes on my vacation, mostly just the straight events of what I did and when, because I don’t want to forget anything but I also don’t want to spend five hours writing this. Plus I wrote down some emotional impressions yesterday and during the trip itself.

 Wednesday

Mostly a traveling day, but because the time change worked very much in my favor, also sort of a ‘first’ day in Vegas itself. I left my apartment at about 7:30 and flew out of Richmond at about 9:03. The Richmond airport isn’t large and I’ve flown out of it before so that was quite easy. Just had time for a chai tea latte before I headed off. I know it’s weird to be this person but I actually really like air travel, and at this point I’m even inured to stuff going wrong, so I was having a good old time even then. Even though the aisles are very narrow and the seats are small. My flights weren’t too long anyway. And for ONCE everything was even better than on time. Three of my four flights arrived early and so did my mom’s, and even my last flight, which left 20 minutes late, only arrived 5 minutes late, which is to say it was also ‘early’ except for the delay in take-off.

Anyway my first flight was to Charlotte and only about an hour, and then in Charlotte I had, like, NO TIME (from talking to a co-worker who’s also going West through CLT and from looking around online, I’ve gotten the impression American does this a lot, gives people a 45 minute layover in Charlotte), but the two gates weren’t too far from each other—farther than I’d though they would be because I had to go from C to B and my gate at B was all the way at the end—and I got in early. So I rushed but didn’t run, got there with ten minutes to boarding, and still had time to use the restroom and wait around for 10-15 minutes before my group actually boarded. So in fact it worked out well.

My second flight was almost 4 hours, which I didn’t think would be long, but it kind of was. They showed Avengers: Endgame and although at first I was just watching and listening to my own music, after a little bit, I decided to plug in and listen because I thought it would make the time go faster to actually watch a narrative. And luckily that monster is 3 hours long so that was most of the flight. I was also starving by this time, so I did in fact get an expensive sandwich on the plane, the eating of which also took up time.

I got in early, at about 1pm, but I had to wait for my mom to get in a couple hours later. I flew into D gate and it took me about an hour of wandering around just to figure out that D was a little satellite collection of stores, gates, and Starbucks, and I needed to take a shuttle to the gates where my mom would be. Once I did that, I saw her flight was early and I had less than two hours of waiting left. So I found a Starbucks with a seating area (there were only A BILLION of them, a fucking Starbucks in every aisle, more Starbucks than DC even) and had a coffee and a yogurt parfait and wrote a bit, which was fine, even though Starbucks is overrated (literally just sugar ice water after five minutes????? Why??????????????? Why is this $500 I could make this myself?). Then I went to my mom’s gate, which was in a nice place with a good view, and read and listened to music until she arrived.

We found the taxi stand, got one right away, and drove to our hotel. It is SO CLOSE. I guess because you can only carve out so much space in the desert. And literally it’s like desert all around and then Vegas, that’s it, a big entertainment center in the middle of nowhere. The landscape was gorgeous and actually the whole time I was traveling across the country I felt very… moved. And then getting into Vegas itself is bizarre because it’s literally a few very famous, very large building just rising up out of nothing.

Anyway, I agonized a lot about hotels but ended up going with an off-strip, non-resort hotel and this was a very good choice. I was pleased. For the same base price as a resort, and without resort or wi-fi fees, we got a whole fucking suite, almost as big as my apartment, with a living room, kitchen, large closet, bathroom with two doors, etc. Plus a fridge and a microwave and a dishwasher and all that. It felt like being at home right away. We spent a couple hours there, catching up, and then went out to eat at about 7 or so. We’re night people and so this felt, for us, like the sort of ‘late’ dinner we naturally want to have but know we shouldn’t—for us, a 10:30 dinner, but in reality, because of the time difference, a normal person hour dinner. Our hotel was right across from Planet Hollywood, so that was our base. I must say I also liked it right away. The fake buildings and fake sky. Even the mall part spoke to me in a strange way given that usually I find malls very stressful. We ended up eating at an Italian restaurant, which seated us in the fake outside part. The food was great, and the salad was probably the best I’ve ever had in my life. After that, we walked around a little and got our bearings, and then went home, showered, got ready for bed. I was exhausted, which was a great feeling: in my head, it was 1 am, and I’d been up since 6, so obviously I was tired, but the clock only said 10, so I felt very responsible. (It was more like 11 by the time I actually went to sleep but still.)

 Thursday

Got up at 7 all on my own, which also felt great—of course it was 10 am in my brain. Life hack for night owls: travel west! We didn’t actually leave until about 9 though, and then we had a big breakfast/brunch at the Café Hollywood in PH, where our server very nicely let us substitute like half the menu for the breakfast we wanted. They also gave me honey with my tea, which, even though I don’t like honey, was an unexpected gesture that rather tickled me. We wandered the resort some more, looked at stores and so on, then went back to the hotel. We were planning on going to the pool but it was in the sun at the time, so we rested for an hour, and then went out and floated for a time. It felt very surreal to me to be floating in a pool in Las Vegas. Just lovely.

After the pool and quick showers, we went out to dinner, at a Mexican place, which I liked although it was a lot of food—I had an appetizer and it was way more than I could eat. Then back to the hotel to rest a little. By this time, we were starting to feel that fatigue that comes with allowing oneself any time to think while traveling. Then my friend B randomly texted me, and I got into a conversation with him, which was hilarious as he did not know I was in Vegas. Very fun to answer a question “how are you” with “I’m in las vegas.”

After that was the show, from which we crawled home at maybe 11, and I guess I must have been awake for some amount of time after but I have no recollection.

 Friday

We had breakfast at the Café Hollywood again and then did some souvenir shopping. Dropped our stuff off at the hotel, and then went out adventuring. Basically I mean walking down the strip. We had lunch at the Hard Rock Café, where I had the best strawberry basil lemonade ever, and then walked down to NYNY Casino. Walked through the Park, with the metal trees, and into the casino itself, which was absolutely the most surreal thing. Like… the fake buildings do not look or feel like NYC but what do they feel like? A movie set, kinda… a stage… an adult Disney World… so fake and yet so pleasing. Street signs with famous street names just placed next to each other randomly, Greenwich next to Broadway and Broadway does not look like Broadway... and then in the middle of it all, a casino just like BAM out of nowhere. I liked it a lot but I’m not sad I didn’t stay there. I liked having my little home to come back to.

We wanted to see what the Paris one looked like, to compare, plus it was on our way back, but at this point walking back through the hottest part of the day was just…exhausting. We stopped in briefly in the Cosmopolitan just to cool down—it was very black and shiny and full of crystals. Paris itself was underwhelming; it didn’t feel like Paris, obviously, but it also didn’t feel like a Paris replica either. Maybe the comparatively interesting parts were just somewhere else, we seemed to basically be in the casino, but we were tired, so we just left and headed to the hotel at this point. We walked through PH first and I got a maple ice latte, yogurt, and banana muffin, all delicious.

After some rest, we went out again for dinner, even though we weren’t really hungry, but neither were we not hungry. For me at least, I felt like I should eat, more than that I wanted to eat. If/when I do Vegas again, I’ll do two meals a day—it works out much better. Mostly what I wanted was a huge bowl of berries tbh. I ended up with a spinach and berry salad, which was almost the same. We went outside to watch the Bellagio fountain show from the steps of PH. I kind of wanted to be closer but the streets in Vegas are so wide and we would have had to cross two to get there, and we didn’t know if we would make it. But our view was okay regardless. We also saw several groups of showgirls walking across the street, some of them in sparkly sneakers, which was adorable.

We got back to the hotel just past 9, when most people’s Friday night was just beginning. We went back to the pool, to experience it after dark, which was weird but also very relaxing. At some points, we were the only ones there. I floated for a bit with my eyes closed and felt the most peaceful I have felt in years.

At quarter to ten, we went back upstairs to shower and pack. It was sort of a let down but also I just couldn’t think about it. I didn’t want to leave and there were things I hadn’t done that I had wanted to do but I also felt like I would need at least 2 more days to do them, because if I stayed another day I wouldn’t leave the hotel except possibly to float in the pool, I was just too exhausted. We had to get up at 4:30 for my flight, and we both got to sleep fairly late, and I at least did not sleep well at all. I kept having nightmares, none of which I can remember, and randomly waking up.

 Saturday

My memories of the morning are very hazy… I had to get dressed, pack a few last minute things, stuff a granola bar in my mouth to say that I had eaten. Our taxi came up very fast after the hotel called it—literally, I was still rolling my suitcase down the incline when it was parking at the steps. And the drive to the airport was short. My mom and I said goodbye outside of security, and then I had to take a shuttle to my gates because I was, again, leaving at D. But I found everything okay and had plenty of time.

On the way back, I had a not-quite-three hour flight to Dallas first, and then a not-quite-three-hour trip to Richmond, with a 2.5 hour layover in between. So I lost two hours, and then another hour. The flights were both fine, and the layover was quite easy because the Dallas airport is very nice. A lot of signs and gigantic touchscreen information kiosk things, which told me where all the food was. So I knew right away that if I headed toward my gate, I would run into a French café first (where I had a delicious pesto pasta and chicken dish) and then a Dunkin Donuts (for some a GOOD latte and a donut, to go), and then to my gate, where I settled down with my magazine and coffee. By the time I was done it was almost time to board. We ended up sitting around for a while longer than I had wanted, and the plane got quite hot and stuffy, but once we were in the air, it was fine. I listened to music and read my magazine, and finished the article just as we were landing. My co-worker picked me up outside and drove me home, and I got back around 7 I think.

Today I have truly just been sleeping and thinking about the trip. I haven’t event unpacked yet. I’m so glad I have tomorrow off, too, because I truly couldn’t stand to go to work tomorrow, but I do think, perhaps too optimistically, that I will feel normal, or mostly normal, tomorrow.

I already miss this vacation so much but I’m so glad I went, it was honestly just about perfect, and I do feel refreshed, as a vacation should make one feel.

[urdearestmom]

I Love You A Latte

so ao3 won’t let me post this for some reason. I’ve been working on it for about five months and it’s probably trash but here is this monster, the longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!!!!!!!!! 

i’d like to dedicate it to @robynhoots because she loves mileven just as much as i do and also @fatechica because her 27k chapters of solely quality content inspire me :DD thanks ladies!!!!!  

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. The redheaded girl and the tall guy, pushing each other through the entry and glaring. It's a regular occurrence, so she knows that's just how they are and not that they're about to punch each other out or something. El turns away to wipe down the counter, trying to avoid staring at the couple as they head to a table and spread out their belongings. She can admit that she low-key has a crush on the dude, but he's clearly another girl's boyfriend and she's not going to get herself in the way of that. It's just a crush, after all.

He comes up to the counter and awkwardly smiles at her. The pair always comes at this time, when this particular Starbucks isn't very busy, so there's no one else working the register and machines.

"Hi, what can I get you today?" El asks. She always feels a little bit like her feet are about to lift off the ground from nerves whenever Mike comes to order instead of his girlfriend. He's so tall it should be intimidating, but it only would be if he was thicker. As it is, he's a walking bundle of twigs with a mop of dark hair on top. For some reason, El finds it attractive. She thinks he's just about the cutest guy she's ever seen: dark hair, dark eyes, a face splashed with freckles. She just wishes he wasn't already taken.

"A tall iced coffee with milk and a grande chai latte for Mike and Max, please," he answers, pulling his wallet out.

"Don't get my order wrong!" Calls the redhead from their seats, smirking.

Mike rolls his eyes and huffs exasperatedly. "I've never gotten her order wrong in my life," he says, looking at El and shaking his head.

She plasters on her customer service smile and replies, "That'll be six eighty-nine, please."

They've been coming in since before she even started working there, El thinks. At least, her manager told her that Mike and Max had been regulars for a long time when she asked. So they've been together for a while. El's kind of envious, not just because she thinks Mike is cute, but because they seem like the type of couple everyone wants to be. They're confident together, and they look happy. Well, sometimes. Most of the time one of them is ribbing the other while their partner fumes. A lot of the time they come in just for drinks and a study session, spreading out books and laptops across wherever they've decided to sit that day, and they'll spend hours sitting across from each other without saying a word. She's never seen them kiss or hold hands or anything of the sort, but El figures maybe they're just not into PDA (which would suck for her if they were).

Their relationship is actually kind of aggressive. Whenever El's not super busy (which is always), she likes to watch them, and she's noticed that Max seems to like hostile physical interaction. She slaps Mike upside the head or punches him in the arm a lot, and sometimes she even kicks him, but he always retaliates by either pulling her hair or with a slew of sharp words. It's an interesting dynamic, and El wonders if she weren't so shy, would she have been able to make friends with them? She kind of wants to. God knows she needs friends; this is her third year in college and she barely has any.

It's on one day, when Max comes in alone, that El decides that she's going to talk to her. It's less of a task without Mike there because he makes her nervous, and Max seems like the type of girl who'd be open to a conversation. She's also in one of El's sociology classes, so that could be something to talk about.

The redhead is leaning against the end of the counter as El makes her regular chai latte, blowing strands of hair out of her face. El takes a deep breath and opens her mouth to speak before she loses her courage. "So, what are you studying?"

Max jerks back to attention. "Sorry, what?"

El gulps. "Um, what- what are you studying? You know, like, what are you in college for?"

"Oh," Max says, nodding. "I'm in marketing."

"That's cool," El answers, turning off the machine before passing off the cup to the other girl. "You like it?"

Max rips open a packet of sugar. "It's fine, I guess. Never really what I pictured myself doing, growing up, but I'm here and I'm not bored and I don't hate it," she replies, pouring the sugar in. "What about you?"

El takes a quick look around the store, noting that there are no new customers. "Developmental psych, but sociology minor. You enjoying Tepperman's class?"

Max's eyes widen. "I knew I recognized you! Ellen, right?"

"Eleanor, actually," El says, smiling. "Old nickname, it's my middle name. It stuck."

Max smiles back. "Hey, I don't wanna take you away from your job or anything, but the store looks pretty empty so… you want to come sit down? I have so many questions about that goddamned class and my friend is busy today so…"

No way is El going to pass up the opportunity to begin what she feels could be a beautiful friendship. "Sure!"

It goes naturally from there. El sits down with Max whenever she's alone, and they exchange phone numbers shortly after their first meeting. A few times, she even sits down when Mike is there too, although she talks a lot less because she feels like she's intruding on their time together. She finds that Max is a spitfire, just exactly as she looks, and that Mike is a really nice guy with a sharp tongue. He's an engineering major (somehow, that makes him even more attractive. El needs to get over it). They mention someone named Lucas a lot, but neither of them ever specifies who that is and El doesn't want to ask. She assumes he must be one of their friends.

It's been about a month since she first talked to Max, and she wonders if she's ever going to meet their other friends, or if she's just the random Starbucks employee they talk to sometimes. The answer comes one afternoon when Max gets up to leave.

"I'm gonna head home to get ready," she says, swinging her bag over her shoulder and nodding at Mike.

"Alright, guess I'll see you later then," he answers. "Try not to ravage the bathroom while you're at it, would you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Fuck you." She's standing there looking between El and Mike as if waiting for one of them to say something.

"Are you leaving or what, Mayfield?" Mike asks exasperatedly. Max stands there for a moment more before winking at him. He sinks lower in his seat, flushing. "Kindly fuck off, I'll see you later."

She laughs and walks away, waving as she pushes the door open and disappears onto the street.

"So you guys live together?" El asks, picking at her nails and trying not to make it obvious that the new information makes her uncomfortable. Clearly, there's another level of commitment here that she hadn't been aware of. It makes her crush on Mike even more awkward than it already is.

Mike sighs, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. "Yeah. It's easier to live with someone you know than to room with people you've never met. It could be a gamble with new people, but Max and I have known each other our whole lives."

"Oh? How'd you guys meet?"

"We were neighbours and our parents were friends so we grew up together, but we kind of hated each other until like, junior year," he says, tracing a finger around the rim of his cup. "Shit happened and we realized that neither of us was as bad as we thought. Been inseparable since."

Suddenly, he laughs. "Ask anyone from our hometown about Mike Wheeler and Max Mayfield, they'll tell you. Anyway," he adds, leaning forward, "We're heading out to Detroit tonight, it's our friend's birthday. We were wondering if you wanted to come? If you're off work, that is."

El's shocked, and she doesn't know what to say for a moment. Mike must take this the wrong way, because he says, "It's no problem if you don't want to! It's just, the others want to meet you. We talk a lot about you."

"You- you do?"

He smiles. "Yeah! You're really cool."

Her heart flutters, even though she tells herself not to let it. "Um- yeah, my- my shift ends at six-thirty, is that enough time?"

"Totally," he says enthusiastically. "We're all meeting up at mine and Max's place before we leave, I'll text you the address."

A few moments later, her phone buzzes, and when El looks at the address she's surprised to find that- "We live in the same building!"

"Oh, cool! We're on the eighth floor, apartment 8D," Mike says, pointing at her with his straw. "You should come by sometime."

El scoffs. "Yeah, maybe, if you need help with your humanities classes."

Mike's smile disappears and he clutches his chest dramatically. "You're starting to sound like Max! Where is the nice, kind El I once knew?! Where hath she gone?!"

She snorts, then covers her face, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, that was nasty. I am so sorry you had to hear that."

Mike shrugs. "It was kind of c-"

"Also, you're so dramatic," El adds, forging on.

He laughs again. "That's what happens when you have two sisters and end up living with Max Mayfield, biggest drama queen on the planet."

"I feel like she would dump your ass on the side of the road if she heard you say that," El says, tapping her nails against the table.

Mike snorts, taking a drink. "She would. I'm sure she's considered kicking me out just for breathing too loud sometimes."

El's about to respond when the door opens and a customer enters. "Well, guess it's time for me to get back to work!"

She's not free for another hour, and by then it's six-fifteen. When she looks around the store, she sees that Mike is gone. She frowns. She hadn't noticed him leave, but when she checks her phone for the text she'd gotten about half an hour ago it's from him.

Mike [5:43 PM]: Hey sorry I left without saying bye you looked busy but 8D around 8pm ok?

[6:16 PM]: I'll be there dw haha, she responds.

He texts back immediately. Mike [6:16 PM]: Cool see you soon :D

El slips her phone back into her pocket with a smile and turns to see one of the baristas for the shift after hers clocking in. "Hey," she says. "Kinda dead in here and I've got somewhere to be, do you mind if I clock out now?"

At quarter to eight, El's ready. As she makes her way to the eighth floor of her building, she's wondering what the others will be like. She likes Mike and Max just fine and they seem to like her, but will she fit in with the rest of the group? Then she's in front of 8D and she's knocking on the door. There's some muffled yelling from inside (likely arguing about who's going to open the door) and a few moments of silence before it swings open.

Max stands on the other side, dressed in a nice white blouse tucked into fitted black pants. She's got red lips, but other than that her makeup is pretty simple, and half of her hair is straightened. She grins. "Come on in, El. Mike'll be out in a second, he's just being a bitch. Michael!"

There's a muffled "I'm coming!" From somewhere inside the apartment, and then Mike comes out of a room at the end of a hall, messing up his own hair.

"Hi," El says as Max disappears back into what El assumes is the bathroom. "Since when is your hair curly?"

Mike blushes, actually blushes, putting his hands into his pants pockets. He's in a light blue polo and navy pants, a matching blazer thrown over top, and El thinks he looks great. The curly hair is new, though. "Uh, this is what it looks like if I don't blow dry it," he answers, laughing nervously. "Which I always do, but someone's hogging the bathroom!"

"Fuck off, Wheeler! You should've come home earlier but you were too busy ogling a certain someone to remember what time it was!"

At that, he blanches and stalks toward the bathroom door, wrenching it open. "Do you want to shut your mouth for once in your goddamn life, Max?"

Max doesn't answer, but El can hear her humming to herself, ignoring Mike completely. El wonders who he was staring at. Are Max and Mike having problems? For a second she lets herself be selfishly happy that they might, because maybe it'll give her an opening, but then she quickly reprimands herself for thinking that way. They're her friends, she's not going to wish something as horrible as a breakup on what seems to be a perfectly good relationship.

Mike gestures awkwardly around. "Shall I give you the tour? The others aren't here yet. Lucas said they've got him on a late night at the observatory, Max, by the way!" He calls toward the other girl.

Max curses. "And to think I was excited about tonight!"

"It's Dustin's birthday, we have to celebrate anyway! He's already bummed enough that Lucas isn't coming," Mike replies. He turns to El. "Anyway, that's the bathroom," he says, gesturing to where Max is. Motioning to the general area beyond the front door, he tells her it's the living room-slash-kitchen, which is made obvious by the TV/sofa combination on one side and kitchen appliances and furniture on the other. Also, the entire apartment is the same general layout as hers, but she lets him talk anyway. Listening to Mike talk is a guilty pleasure.

The only thing different from her apartment is the fact that this one has two rooms. "That's Max's," Mike says, leading El down the hall and pointing to the door left slightly ajar, "And this is mine." He opens the door directly across to reveal a nicely sized room with a queen-size bed and a dresser in it. It's not messy like she expected it to be, which is nice. It means Mike's not a messy person. What she does question, though, is why they sleep in separate rooms, but she keeps it to herself. Maybe Mike snores, or maybe Max is a kicker.

There's a knock on the door and Mike goes to get it, revealing a man a few inches taller than El with light brown hair and green eyes. He has a kind face, and El takes to him right away. "This is Will," Mike says, gesturing the man in. "Will, this is El."

Will smiles and extends a hand. "The El I've heard so much about?" A look passes between him and Mike, and then Mike glares at him and Will laughs. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," El says. She stands in the living room with Will and Mike for a few minutes, talking, until there's another knock.

"That'll be Dustin," says Will, and Mike lets in another man with curly hair that's got a weird shape to it. It looks like he wears a hat over it all the time, and that's when El recognizes him as the hat-wearing guy from her abnormal psych class.

"Hey," she says. "I'm El." She extends a hand to shake one of his. "You're in Denton's class, right? The guy with the hat?"

Dustin grins. "You got me! And you must be the El we've all been waiting to meet. Mike talks about you a lot." He coughs, looking over her shoulder. "Um, Max does too," he adds.

El thinks it's a little weird that he specified that, but she's not going to question him about it. The four of them spend a few more minutes wishing Dustin a happy birthday and talking as they wait for Max, and El finds that she likes Will and Dustin a lot. They're easy to talk to and really funny. She feels like she is fitting in, after all. When Max emerges, she goes straight to the birthday boy to give him a big hug, and then pulls back and says, "El's coming with me, I want some girl time before we spend the entire night with you boys."

"Don't say anything weird to her, Max," groans Mike.

"Don't get your panties in such a twist then," she retorts.

Will and Dustin smile, used to their friends by now, and El just looks on in slight amusement. Max drives a Smart car, so it only fits two people anyway, and the three boys pile into Mike's blue Kia Forte before they all peel off to the interstate in the direction of Detroit.

The girls travel in comfortable fun, talking and making jokes as usual, but with the addition of singing along to the radio. It's all good and happy until twenty minutes into the drive when Max goes in for the kill.

"So... you like Mike, right?"

El almost chokes on her own spit. She's trying to hide her shock as she turns the radio down a little bit. "Um, yeah, I guess? We're friends," she says mildly.

Max smirks as if she knows something El doesn't and shakes her head. "You know that's not what I meant."

El swallows, tugging at one of her curls. Her crush's girlfriend is asking whether she likes him. What is she supposed to say to that? Turns out, Max already has an answer.

"I know you do, you're kinda obvious," she says. "Although I can see why you might not want to admit it. I think it'd be a little embarrassing to have a crush on that. But that's just me, I guess."

Now El's wondering what the hell is even happening. Max doesn't seem angry at all, quite the opposite in fact. She seems pleased that another girl has taken an interest in Mike. Which is... completely bizarre, to say the least. Maybe they want a threesome or something. "You're not mad?"

Max's eyes look like they're going to fall out of her head as she looks at El. "Why would I be mad?"

El looks down, wanting to avoid eye contact with the other girl. "I mean... if I had a boyfriend and another girl liked him, I don't think I'd be happy about it."

It's dead silent for a few moments but for the radio, until Max bursts out laughing.

"Oh my god!" She exclaims. "You thought he was my boyfriend?!"

El's cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Yeah..."

Max is still laughing. "I can't breathe," she wheezes. She's silent for a few moments before her face wrinkles. "He's not. That's so gross I can't even imagine it."

"But you guys are so close, I just thought..." El trails off, refusing to look at the redhead.

Max shakes her head. "Mike's like my brother, in every way. I don't even like him most of the time, I just put up with him."

El looks out the window, taking a deep breath to gather her courage, much like the first time she spoke to Max. "Okay, so I like him. Why did you want me to admit it?"

Max smirks again. "Tonight's the perfect night to make your move."

"Nope," El shakes her head. "I am way too anxious for that. Also, I don't want our friendship to be awkward if it doesn't go through."

"Why wouldn't it, though? He's liked you since you were in his classics lecture. You know-"

"He was in my classics?"

"Yes," Max says exasperatedly. "But that's not the point. You know we started going to Starbucks way more often after you got a job there? I'm broke because of his bitch ass wanting to see you all the time but never saying anything," she adds with an eye roll.

"I- okay," El says. "I'll try."

Max reaches out to clap her on the shoulder. "Atta girl! And for the record, I'm dating Lucas."

El smiles. "I'll keep that in mind for when I meet him."

Upon arriving in the city, El spends her time looking out the window and marvelling at the sights. She only passed through Detroit on her way to college the first year, and since she hasn't had many friends, she hasn't had many outings. The city is new to her, and she loves all the lights and colours and people walking around. Max pulls up in front of a small restaurant and the boys park behind her, everyone getting out of the cars and stretching for a moment before walking into the establishment.

El ends up beside Mike (because of course she does), Will and Max across from them and Dustin at the head of the table. Dinner runs smoothly besides Dustin burning his tongue on the soup he ordered, El fitting into the group seamlessly. It's looking to be a great night, but El's wondering how Max thinks she's supposed to make her move. She can't exactly do it in a restaurant, can she?

Her opportunity comes in the form of the group going to a club. Dustin's just turned twenty-one, but the rest of them are already overage so they might as well enjoy themselves, right? The three non-drivers have spent the last half hour or so knocking back mojitos, margaritas, and daiquiris, so Max and Mike are sitting off to the side enjoying watching their friends lose their inhibitions. El's very aware of the fact that she's drunk, but it's also literally liquid courage, so she's going to use it to her advantage. She's just drained her piña colada and slapped the glass back onto the bar when she grabs Mike's arm and tugs him away with her.

"Come dance with me," she says. She doesn't allow him time to respond before she's squeezed them into the mass of writhing people on the dance floor. He's moving along with her, but he's clearly feeling awkward if his erratic movements and half-smile are anything to go by.

"I'm not very good at dancing!" He yells in an attempt to be heard over the thumping bass.

"That's okay!" She yells back, swinging her hips and raising her arms. "Just move with me!" It's kind of funny, El thinks, that she's even doing this at all. Hanging out with Max must have made her develop some kind of outgoing kink (or maybe it's just the alcohol). Whatever it is, El's having a good time. Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. Mike's arms are just hanging limply by his sides, swinging around slightly as he rocks himself from side to side, but she would love to feel his hands on her. So she does the only logical thing: grabs his wrists and puts his hands on her waist.

He looks down at her in surprise but when he sees that she means business he lets his hands rest where they are and presses his fingers into the sliver of skin between her top and her jeans. That sends the best kind of shiver down her spine and Mike must feel it because he sends the most devilish grin her way. He's moving a little more in sync with her now because of where his hands are; he knows which way she's going to move right before she does it. They stay like that for a bit, progressively getting closer to each other until they're practically chest-to-chest and standing between each other's legs, but all of a sudden Mike gets a weird look on his face and rushes off to the restroom. El doesn't want to look like a fool dancing by herself, so she returns to the bar with a scowl. Upon seeing her, Max bursts out laughing.

"Did he leave you out there by yourself?" She asks, watching El order another cocktail.

El slumps against the bar and pouts. "We were having a good time dancing, I don't know why he left!"

The other girl cackles. "Probably went to go rub one out in the restroom!"

"Max!" El reaches out to slap her on the arm. "Don't be gross."

Max smirks. "He's a young man with needs, El! And also insanely attracted to you, I'm probably right."

El sends her a grumpy look and gratefully accepts her drink from the bartender. "Where's Will and Dustin?"

Max shrugs. "Dustin felt sick so he went outside to get some air, and I think Will saw a hot guy somewhere on the dance floor."

"He's gay?"

"Very," Max says. "You ever need guy advice, Will's the one you want. He's not called Will the Wise for nothing."

El takes a sip from her martini and nods thoughtfully as if considering, looking into the crowd. She perks up when she sees a mop of messy hair floating above it, correctly identifying the person as her man of interest. Mike slinks up to the bar and gives El a weak smile.

"Sorry about leaving," he says. "I just... had to use the restroom."

Max scoffs at him. "Sure, like we don't know why."

He throws her a look. "I swear to god, Mayfield. Where's the guys?"

Max rolls her eyes and El stays silent, sipping some more martini. "Dustin's outside getting some air and Will saw a hot guy somewhere."

"Mm," Mike agrees. "I did see some. Michigan's got more hot guys than Indiana ever did, that's for sure."

Max laughs and El looks up at Mike curiously. "You like guys too?"

He nods. "Mostly girls, but every now and then I'll see a really good-looking man and remember that the grass is green on both sides."

El hums before poking him in the arm. "You look like a frog, did you know that?"

Max tries and fails to hold back a snort and Mike looks hurt for a second before regaining composure. "Really?"

"I think so," El says, and giggles. "But I like frogs, they're cute. And! I had to do a project on frogs in second grade and I always liked them. Froggy froggy froggy," she adds, with a poke on each 'froggy'.

All things considered, it's a good night. Dustin doesn't throw up, Will gets the guy's number, and El gets in a few more dances with Max. When they're leaving, Max volunteers to take Dustin home.

"He rooms with Lucas," says Mike knowingly. "She probably won't come back."

He bundles Will and El into his car with him, and the two of them sit in the back gushing about the guy who caught Will's eye the entire way home. After they drop Will off at his place, the first floor of a duplex about two blocks away, El's almost asleep and Mike has to practically drag her out of the car and into their building. He's got an arm hooked around her waist to help her, but that just means his body heat is radiating even further. She kind of wants to latch onto him and curl up like a baby koala on its mother, but she still has enough self-restraint not to.

"El," he says, "El, which floor are you on?"

"Fourteenth," she answers sleepily. "But I don't know where my key is. I wanna sleep."

Mike sighs. "Is it okay if you stay over? Max probably won't be back, so you can take her bed. I don't want to take you upstairs and then have you spend forever looking for your key."

"Okay."

And that's how she ends up spending the night in her crush's apartment. It's a good sleep, but she wakes in the morning with a bad headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. Her whole body hurts. The only good things are that someone's left an aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table, and that she can smell something cooking.

El takes the pill and then groans when she looks at her phone and sees that it's only nine o'clock. Seems her body clock is still working. She hears steps coming down the hall, deducing that the noise was loud enough to attract the attention of whoever was in the kitchen.

Mike's head pops into the room, a sunny smile attached to his face. "Good morning, sleepyhead!"

"Fuck this shit."

He frowns. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today."

"My hangovers are terrible."

"Are there good hangovers?" He asks with a laugh. "Come on, I'm making breakfast. Hope you like waffles!"

The truth of the matter is that waffles are actually El's favourite food, so she rushes to get herself to the kitchen.

"Waffles are the best food, no contest," she says, watching as Mike takes fresh waffles out of a waffle toaster and puts them on a plate.

"Well, then I hope mine will live up to your expectations," he answers, setting the plate in front of her and turning back to the machine.

He's laid out whipped cream and some other stuff (syrup, M&Ms, and strawberries) on the table, so El puts some of each on her waffles and digs in. They're heavenly. They're fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside, just the right texture and sweetness. She nearly cries with delight.

Mike seems to pick up on this, because he's sort of smirking when he joins her at the table. "You like?"

"Do I?" El exclaims. "Best waffles I've ever tasted!"

He's smiling as he digs into his own plate of crispy deliciousness. "I'm glad you like them, but if you want really good waffles you should go to Belgium."

"I'm too poor for that," El says around a mouthful. She swallows. "College student, and all? But I'd love to. Where'd you learn to make waffles this good?"

"I used to work at Waffle House in high school. The only reason they didn't fire me before I left was that I was the best damn waffle maker that town ever had."

"But?"

"But what?"

"I sense that there's a but here."

Mike laughs. "But I learned to cook with my mom. My younger sister was too little to cook, my older sister was useless in the kitchen, and my dad is…" He trails off. "Anyway, I liked cooking and I was good help, so my mom sort of took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. I can cook pretty much anything if you give me a recipe, but baking is a whole other ball game," he says, making gestures with his fork.

"Good to know you and Max aren't starving all the time, then," El replies dryly. She's smiling.

Mike squints at her. "You're something, El. Really something."

After that, Mike starts coming into her Starbucks by himself often. Two months go by where there's not a day that she doesn't see him, whether it be at Starbucks by himself and with Max, or in their apartment building. Upon discovering that the three of them live in the same one, Max and Mike have hung out with El a lot more. He also texts her frequently.

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: victreebel.mov

It's a video of Victreebel screeching.

[4:53 PM]: Why do u text me such weird shit

Frogge 🐸[4:53 PM]: I thought it was funny :(

[4:54 PM]: I'm working

Frogge 🐸[4:54 PM]: And I'm impatient

[4:55 PM]: Hi impatient I'm El.

She puts her phone in her pocket just in time to get the finished cup of coffee to the customer, then pulls it back out again.

[4:56 PM]: Come inside for 5 mins dumbass I'm almost done

Within a literal half-second, Mike's standing at the door in all his windswept glory. It's a windy April day outside, most of which El had avoided by arriving at work before the wind picked up. Unfortunately, Mike hasn't been so lucky, coming to meet her as soon as his exam finished. Two days ago, he'd texted her in the middle of the night asking when she was free.

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: Ellie

[2:34 AM]: Mike its 2:34 am

Frogge 🐸[2:34 AM]: You're awake too whats your point

[2:35 AM]: Yes froggy

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: Smh that's so rude

Frogge 🐸[2:35 AM]: When are you free

[2:35 AM]: U have distracted me from my sleep for this

[2:35 AM]: U could've easily asked me in the morning

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: I couldn't sleeeeeeep

[2:36 AM]: Not my fault

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: El please

Frogge 🐸[2:36 AM]: Its important

[2:36 AM]: Wednesday after 5 or Friday after 6:30

[2:37 AM]: Why

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: :DDDDDD

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: You'll see :)

Frogge 🐸[2:37 AM]: Wednesday !

She has no idea what it is that he has planned, but as she removes her barista apron and clocks out, he's bouncing on his feet, a huge smile on his face. "You really look like a frog when you smile like that," she says, reaching up to give him a hug. It's become their customary greeting since he started it a few days after that morning in his apartment, and every time it happens it leaves El happy with a positive, glowing warmth around her. It makes her wonder if kissing him would have the same effect.

"Come on," he answers excitedly, latching onto her hand and pulling her out the door. The wind is blustering but that doesn't stop Mike from tugging El down the street with gusto, only coming to a stop when they reach the Subway near the corner of Packard and S State.

Once inside, El smiles and asks, "Out of one food place and into another?"

Mike waves her off. "Subway is better than Starbucks," he says, leading her to the counter.

"And yet you're in Starbucks almost every day," she retorts.

He rolls his eyes before looking up at the menu. "Yeah, but that's only because you're there."

She doesn't know what to say to that.

They each order a sandwich because, well, it's Subway, and a bag of chips. El doesn't finish hers, so it's more like Mike ends up eating a bag and a half. It's as he's sitting back, patting his stomach, that El finally lets her curiosity get the best of her.

"So why'd you bring me here?"

He grins. "Alright, so here's the thing. I don't know what your plans are for the summer-"

"Don't really have any, besides working," she interrupts.

"Okay, great! That's awesome," he says. "So I'm going to Lisbon for four days and my sister was supposed to come with me, but something important came up at work and she can't go. So-" here he pauses for dramatic effect- "She cancelled her plane ticket and sent me the money 'cause it was my birthday present to her, but since there's reservations for two and I've been saving for a while I didn't want to waste that. I can take someone with me."

El's not sure she knows where he's going with this. Is he really-?

"And I wanted you to come. If you want to?" He asks this in such a hopeful tone, El can't help but want to.

"But- what about Max? Or the others?"

"Max is going home with Lucas for the summer to meet his parents and I haven't asked the others, but I really wanted you to come, El," Mike says softly. "It's fine if you don't want to, I understand."

"No!" She laughs nervously, rushing to fix her mistake. "I'd love to come, I'm sure I can get one week off. I'm just- you really want me to come with you?"

"I really want you to come with me everywhere in general," he jokingly responds. "I think it'll be great. And I mean, they might not have the best waffles, but I hear their food is to die for?"

The week after is a flurry of bookings (a train and plane ticket for El, and booking off work). The two of them will leave Ann Arbor for Chicago on June fourth at seven-twenty AM for their twelve fifty-five flight to Washington D.C., where they'll have a six-and-a-half hour layover before getting on their way overnight to Lisbon. If everything goes to plan, they should be in another country by ten thirty-five AM local time.

El's the most excited she's ever been. Getting to explore a foreign country? Sign her up! She's never left the States before. The only thing she's worried about is not speaking the language, but Mike assures her that they'll be bound to find someone who speaks English. After all, it's not like they'll be in the middle of nowhere; they'll be in a city of millions. And, he adds, tourism is one of Portugal's biggest money-makers, so there's gotta be translators somewhere.

It also gets Max off El's back about telling Mike about her steadily growing feelings. She hasn't attempted anything since the night at the club, letting her slight anxieties get the best of her. He'd seemed into what was happening, and according to Max he likes El a lot, but there is also his weird escape to the restroom and that's what El's brain holds onto. She's afraid that he'll run in the other direction if she so much as tries to hint that she holds anything besides friendly feelings for him, even though she's smart enough to pick up on his blatant affection for her. Max makes El promise that she'll do something about it on their trip.

The group finishes off their school year in relatively high spirits, and Max leaves almost immediately with Lucas. They're going to road trip and sightsee for a few weeks before heading to Lucas' home in Delaware. El, Will, and Mike all have jobs to busy themselves with, but Will is going home to Maine to visit his mom and then New York to visit his brother at the end of the month. Dustin is preparing to take on an internship at a bioengineering company that will hopefully help land him a job when he's finished with his education. When they've got free time they all like to hang out at someone's place and enjoy it, but since Mike and El live merely floors apart they hang out most often. In fact, Mike has taken to falling asleep on El's couch at least once a week, coming up for dinner when he doesn't invite her down instead (he claims he misses Max and doesn't like eating alone).

Eventually, Will has gone off to Maine and the morning of El's first international venture dawns bright and clear. Her bags have been packed for a few days now, all she needs to do is one last clean sweep of her apartment before going downstairs to make sure her travel partner isn't still sleeping. When she knocks, the door swings open and a very dishevelled Mike is standing on the other side. She laughs at the mess of hair on his head, just as she does every other morning she sees him like this, and thinks that it really isn't going to take much longer for her to truly be in love.

"It is six in the fucking morning," he says, pulling her through the door, "and I have just ingested approximately three gallons of caffeine. This is ungodly."

"I'm fairly sure three gallons of straight-up caffeine would make you overdose or something," she responds, leaning against the kitchen table and watching him putter around straightening blankets before streaking down the hall to his room.

"I haven't gotten up this early in years!"

On the train to Chicago (which they have to take because Mike's sister Nancy lives there so it's where the flight is scheduled from), they look out the windows for a bit but mostly sleep. An alarm is set so that they don't end up sleeping through the stop. They make it to O'Hare just in time for check-in and boarding, and then they're on their way to D.C. Once there, they head into the city to have lunch and take a tour of Capitol Hill before switching airports for the red-eye to Lisbon. El is fascinated to see all the buildings where the nation's greatest decisions take place, to stand where thousands have stood during events that made history. Mike's just sort of tagging along, having been to D.C. before, but she thinks he's enjoying himself nonetheless.

The flight is uneventful other than some light turbulence when they're about an hour out from landing, and the fact that Mike falls asleep on her. El's freaking out internally when he lays his head on her shoulder, but continues to watch the movie in front of her as if nothing's happening. It makes her feel warm inside.

As the plane approaches land, El can see the blue, sparkling ocean spread out beneath her and little orange roofs dotting the landscape ahead. "Hey, why are the roofs orange?" She asks, shrugging her shoulder a little bit to get Mike's attention.

He looks out the window, squinting as if that's going to make them hear each other better (their ears have yet to pop). "They're made of tiles instead of shingles, that's just their colour."

"That's cool."

A few moments of silence later, Mike lifts his head off her shoulder and says, "So, you excited?"

"Yeah!" El exclaims. "What are we doing first?"

Mike laughs. "I think we're sleeping, you're gonna want to crash the second you get off this plane."

He's right, of course, if only partially; she doesn't want to sleep the second she gets off, she wants to sleep as soon as the stress of border control and baggage claim are over. She does sleep a bit on the way from the airport to where they're staying, only waking up long enough to get inside and collapse in the first bedroom she comes across.

When El wakes up it's dark out the window, and she sees that it's past midnight when her phone buzzes on the bedside table. She wonders for a moment how she's getting messages if she didn't connect her phone to wifi, but realizes that Mike must have done it. He's her best friend at this point, so he does know her passcode. It's the group chat, so she scrolls to the top to see what they were talking about.

Frogge 🐸[12:34 PM]: hey guys I know it's barely morning for you but just wanted to say we're here

Maxie [1:47 PM]: good flight?

Dustin [2:16 PM]: they're probably both sleeping off the jet lag

Will [3:58 PM]: yeah mike'll probably wake up first, he sleeps on flights doesn't he

Maxie [4:00 PM]: probably

Maxie [4:00 PM]: miCHAEL WAKE THE FUCK UP

Maxie [4:01 PM]: ELEANOR WHERE U AT

Lucas [4:02 PM]: that's a lot of probablys

Dustin [4:07 PM]: they'll be back dw about it

Will [4:10 PM]: yeah don't wake them

Maxie [4:32 PM]: u right if u wake mike too early he'll kill u

Maxie [4:33 PM]: idk about el but since they're a match made in heaven she's probs the same

Will [4:35 PM]: so I'm not the only one seeing it then

Dustin [4:36 PM]: will do u think the rest of us r blind

Maxie [4:36 PM]: ok gotta go me and Lucas are leaving now

Will [4:37 PM]: have fun

Dustin [4:37 PM]: don't die

Frogge 🐸[11:46 PM]: can you guys not

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: yes the flight was good, I fell asleep but el told me it was fine

Frogge 🐸[11:47 PM]: just a little turbulence like an hour before we landed

Will [11:53 PM]: you guys slept literally the entire day?

Frogge 🐸[11:55 PM]: No I woke up in the middle of the afternoon to go pee and then I went to some random store to buy food but I didn't check my phone

Frogge 🐸 [11:56 PM]: idk if el has woken up today but she didn't sleep at all on the plane so probably not

Max [12:01 AM]: why'd u go buy food aren't u in a hotel

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: no we're in this place it's like an apartment and you pay for it like a hotel but it's cheaper Lisbon has a lot of these

Frogge 🐸[12:02 AM]: also if we go grocery shopping it's cheaper than eating out 3 times a day for a week

Lucas [12:03 AM]: so where is she

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: sleeping

Frogge 🐸[12:03 AM]: yeah I think she's still asleep

[12:04 AM]: incorrect I have returned to the world of the conscious

Frogge 🐸[12:04 AM]: great come eat! I saved you some food

Will [12:04 AM]: El: wakes up

Will [12:04 AM]: Mike: 😍

Frogge 🐸[12:05 AM]: shut up will bye

[12:05 AM]: lol I'm coming

El makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up a little before going down the hall, where she finds Mike standing by the open window in the living room area cradling a cup of what appears to be milk.

"Hey," she says, poking him in the back.

He turns around with a smile and hands a second mug to her, also full of milk. "Milk fills you up but also makes you sleepy," he answers.

"Thanks for the fact," El quips in return, taking the cup. She leans out the window to look at the city around them and sips. "Is that a river?"

"Yup. The Tagus."

"Weird name."

Mike laughs quietly and throws his free arm over her shoulder, dark eyes sparkling. "Things usually sound a little better in their native language, but I don't know how to pronounce it properly."

El hums in response. "It looks like a beautiful city, though, I can't wait to explore."

"Then we should probably get some more sleep to wake up early, huh? There's toast on the counter for you if you want it," he says, chugging what's left of his milk before depositing his cup in the sink and going back into the room he's claimed as his.

It's silent for a few moments but for the slight rustle of bedsheets as El drinks the remnants of her milk and Mike settles in. Then: "Night, El!"

She rolls her eyes, but her heart warms and a smile blooms on her face. "Night, Mike."

El wakes up again around nine hours later, feeling fully refreshed but confused. She was awoken by a loud crash, and blinks her eyes open to see her friend lying on the floor in her doorway. "What are you doing?" She yawns.

"Can I just die here?" Mike says. "I fell coming to wake you up."

El can't help but laugh at the mental image that conjures, but it gets so funny that she has to bury her face in her pillow to muffle the giggles.

"It's not that funny, El!"

She feels the mattress sink next to her and immediately flips over to push Mike away when he starts to tickle her. "S-stop!" She shrieks. "I can't breathe!"

"Never!" He tickles her with renewed fervour until she manages to kick him away, at which point he flops down onto the mattress and smiles at her. The sun is coming in through the window and it backlights his hair in a way that makes him look like there's a halo on his head, which El thinks is appropriate because he is the closest a human can get to an angel. She smiles back.

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

That first day is spent lounging by the river for a while and taking pictures, followed by walking around the downtown streets. Some of them are wide and full of shops and people, and others are narrow, steep hills that look like they'd be impossible to navigate by car. What do pass are these little things that look like three-wheeled mopeds with bench seats and a roof, and they roar up and down the busy streets at what looks like should be an impossible speed for the incline of the roads. Mike tells her they're a tourist thing, so who knows, they might end up in one too.

The night ends with dinner in a nearby restaurant, which serves not quite the best food El's ever had (after all, homemade always has that touch of… something that makes it special) but it is a good dining experience. Mike was right, all of the people they've interacted with have been able to speak English or direct them to someone who does, so they're able to enjoy the meal without having to worry about misunderstandings. In all, El's first day out of the United States is a dashing success.

The second day begins with a shower straight out of bed, after which El realizes that she's the only one awake, so she dresses and makes herself breakfast. She's sitting at the table reading a tourist magazine and sipping coffee when her travel companion stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and with quite the bedhead.

She grins. "Top of the morning to you, Mr. Rat's Nest," she greets him.

Mike blinks at her. "What?"

El feels like her smile is going to break her face. She could get used to seeing him like this every morning. He looks more like a boy than the young man he is, and less stressed too. What a sight. She could just combust from looking at him and she'd be happy about it.

"Your hair," she answers, gesturing to his head, where his hand follows and settles in the nest as if to confirm that his hair is indeed as much of a mess as she's making it out to be.

Mike glares half-heartedly. "I'll thank you to leave me and my hair alone. I haven't fixed it."

"Whatever you say," she replies, smirking back into her mug.

He putters around the kitchen for a few moments before suddenly whipping around. "Is that black?"

El raises her brows. "Straight," she says, slurping obnoxiously.

"I can't believe my- you drink black coffee?" Mike interrupts himself before he finishes his sentence, but it's already kind of too late.

"Your what?"

He looks away. "Nothing." He turns back to the fridge, taking milk out of it and pouring it into a mug. El's still watching when he shakes his head and mutters, "Black coffee."

"I'll thank you to leave me and my black coffee alone," she retorts, but she's smiling again. It's almost impossible how happy this man makes her.

A few minutes later, when Mike is sitting across from her with his toast and drink (it's honestly more milk than coffee but since it is a mix, she guesses it could be considered a latte), El speaks again. "My dad used to drink his coffee black."

"He used to?"

"Yeah, I-" She falters.

Mike reaches out for her hand and cups his around hers on the mug. "You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I-" She shakes her head quickly. She will tell him. "My mom was a drug addict and she died when I was born."

Mike's grip on her hand tightens and El's grateful for it. He's always been a reassuring presence. "I'm so sorry."

"It's- fine, really, I- anyway." She clears her throat. "My mom died giving birth to me and no one knew who my dad was. But I was adopted as a baby, by a man who had lost his daughter a few years before. He's the one I grew up with. His name was Jim. Jim Hopper."

El's feeling the tears build up and she's thinking that maybe she should stop talking, but she also thinks that this is something Mike should know about her before anything else happens. "He was a cop. But he was such a loving person. He took care of me, he gave me room to grow, he played with me, he taught me, he loved me." At that she lets the tears flow. Where did the joy of five minutes ago disappear to? It never hurts any less when she thinks about him, it just gets easier to deal with. She can still see his smiling face and hear his laugh, and it pulls a hiccupy sob out of her.

"What happened to him?" Mike asks softly.

"One night, when I was thirteen, he was called out on emergency," she says, looking at their joined hands on the mug in front of her. "And he never came back. He was killed on the job."

Mike doesn't say anything, but she meets his eyes and sees something in them that warms her. It's this moment, the most vulnerable she's ever been in front of him, that makes her realize: she's not falling, she's already fallen.

El looks away. "After that, well. I got put in the system. But nobody wants to adopt a teenager, so I just got bumped around from foster home to foster home until I was eighteen. Then I was left to fend for myself," she laughs. "Good thing I turned eighteen in the summer, otherwise I probably would've had to drop out of high school and work."

"So you're older than me?" Mike asks.

El rolls her eyes and sniffs. "I just spilled my entire life story to you and that's what you ask?"

Mike smiles, and it squeezes her heart in a good way. "Well, it's not like you're a criminal or something. It could be worse if you did illegal shit. But I'm sorry that happened to you."

El looks back into her cup of coffee, the catalyst of this entire conversation. "Well, yeah. He never would've allowed me to drink coffee a way other than black, so that's how I take it. It reminds me of him."

When they're on their way out the door to another day of adventure, Mike stops her and pulls her into a tight hug. He looks directly into her eyes when he pulls away. "If you ever need something, I'm always here for you."

She nods. "Thank you."

Everything is going well until they make a turn down some side street that was supposed to be a shortcut and end up getting lost.

"Mike," El pleads for the fifth time, "Let's just ask someone for help?"

"No," he answers, "I've got this. Just a second." He's still looking at the map they were using to try and get to the castle. The two of them were on their way to Castelo de São Jorge, the castle on top of a hill from which you could get "wicked views of the city and river", but unfortunately they'd gotten turned around in the maze of windy cobblestone alleys and had no idea where they were. Neither of them had gotten a roaming plan either, so using a GPS is out of the question unless they want to pay a hefty sum at the end of the month.

El huffs impatiently. "You've been saying that for the last ten minutes!" She throws her arms up in exasperation and walks back down to the nearest corner, leaving Mike squinting at the map uselessly in the hopes that she'll find someone to help.

She stands on the corner and waits for someone to walk by, finding a target within a few minutes. It's a woman who looks like she might be around El's age or older, with wavy, long brown hair and striking green eyes that El notices from feet away. She's carrying some shopping bags and walking down the street with a wide smile on her face. She looks approachable, but El's having a hard time screwing up the courage to talk to her.

Luckily, the woman seems to notice El's slight distress and stops in front of her.

"Español?" She asks.

El shakes her head. "English?"

The woman smiles again. "Are you lost?"

El's relief is great. The woman speaks perfect English, so El doesn't have to stand there and make a fool of herself trying to be understood.

"Oh thank god," she breathes. "Yes. My friend and I are trying to get to the castle but we got lost and he's still looking at the map."

"Men," the woman says, shaking her head ruefully. "I can take you there, if you want. My name's Sabrina."

El smiles shyly. "I'm El."

"Alright, El," says Sabrina, hefting her bags. "I'm going to leave these at home real quick and I'll meet you here in a few minutes, it's just down the street."

She starts walking in the direction she was originally going and vanishes around a corner. El's a little worried that it was a mean joke and Sabrina's not going to come back at all, but she turns around and calls Mike anyway.

"Hey!" She yells, cupping her hands around her mouth. Mike's head jerks up from the map he is still looking at. "I found someone to help us!"

He starts jogging down the street and joins her on the corner in a few moments.

"Where are they?" He asks, furrowing his brows.

"She had some shopping bags so she went to leave them at home, but she said she'd meet us here soon."

"Okay, cool. She speak English?"

El nods. "Perfectly. Sounds just like us."

A few minutes later, El sees Sabrina coming back in their direction. "There she is!"

Mike squints. "You sure she's not going to kidnap us?"

El elbows him. "Be grateful. We're lost because of you, smart one."

Mike rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything else as Sabrina walks up to them.

"Hey!" She greets. "I'm assuming you're El's friend? I'm Sabrina."

"Mike," Mike answers, shaking the hand Sabrina extends. "Heard you could help us get to the castle?"

"Glad to help!" Sabrina leads them down to the end of the street they had been on, makes a left, and keeps walking.

"So," says Mike curiously, "not to be offensive or anything, but how come you speak English so well? We haven't met anyone here who speaks like you do."

Sabrina waves a hand and makes a right. "It's not offensive, don't worry about it. I was actually born and grew up in Canada, but my parents moved back when I was eighteen so I moved too. I decided to live down here instead of up north with them."

El nods along, trying to pay attention to where they're turning so that they can find their way back later.

"It's a very pretty city, from what we've seen," she says.

Sabrina smiles. "There's just something here, right? Porto is very nice too but I love Lisbon."

A few minutes of mindless chatter later, after they've made another right and then two lefts and one more right, Sabrina pauses and asks, "So you guys are Americans, right?"

El laughs. "Are we really that obvious?"

Sabrina shakes her head. "I knew it! There's something about you. Also, I tend to meet more American tourists than Canadians."

"We're from Michigan," adds Mike. "I was supposed to be here with my sister, actually, but she cancelled last minute and El agreed to come instead, lucky for me."

"You don't have to sound so unhappy about it, you ass," El says, poking him in the side.

"Maybe I don't really like you, ever think of that?" He answers, then sticks his tongue out her. It's such a childish action that El doesn't even know how to react, so she just shakes her head and walks faster.

Sabrina looks like she's about to laugh at them, but instead she opts for asking, "Are you sure you guys are friends?"

El can sense the underlying secondary question that she knows the other woman is not going to ask, and she wonders herself what the answer to that is.

Mike, however, either ignores it or doesn't notice at all, as he throws an arm over El's shoulders and pulls her close. "Nah, I love her. El's the best."

Her heart skips several beats at his words, but she ignores it for the time being. She's been dealing with this for months at this point, she's a pro at pretending Mike doesn't make her feel like she's going to float away at any second.

Sabrina just smirks knowingly and stops walking at the bottom of a steep hill a moment later. "Okay," she says, "You can see the walls from here. Just go up this hill and you'll find your way. It was nice meeting you guys, enjoy your trip!"

Both of them say their thank yous and watch as Sabrina walks away and vanishes around a corner back the way she came.

"She was nice," remarks Mike, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looks up.

"Good thing I talked to her, otherwise we'd probably still be lost."

"Oh, come on!"

They're almost at the top of the hill when El falls. She's slightly behind Mike and gets so distracted by the shape of his shoulders that she doesn't see a cobblestone sticking slightly out from the rest. She lands with a loud thump and sees Mike whip around.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks concernedly, reaching down to help her up.

El grips his hand firmly, the warmth from it bleeding into her and causing her face to flush as she stands. She hopes that if Mike notices, he chalks it up to the outside temperature.

But then he doesn't let go. And El isn't about to either, so…

They end up walking around looking for the ticket booth while holding hands. El's pretty sure it's the sweatiest her hand has ever been, which is gross, but it's so nice to hold Mike's hand that she's not even really thinking about it. They only separate to have an argument about who's paying for the tickets (which El wins by stating that she will not speak to Mike for the rest of the trip if he doesn't let her take care of it) and then gravitate tentatively back together as they enter into the castle grounds.

There are a ton of tourists inside, but Mike and El join a group being led by a guide who explains the history of the castle and surrounding area. It's quite interesting, especially for people like both Mike and El who think of themselves as low-key history buffs (they've watched a lot of documentaries on the History Channel together, sue them).

Afterward, they walk around on their own, taking pictures of the skyline and the river. They take pictures of each other, then get a random group of German tourists to take ones of them together, and it's just a good morning all around.

Back at the apartment for lunch, Mike cooks a delicious pot of farfalle with Alfredo sauce, which he takes a picture of and posts on his Instagram story. A few minutes later, El gets a notification.

m_mayfield sent you mwheels' story.

m_mayfield: HE NEVER COOKS THIS NICE FOR ME

m_mayfield: EL COME GET UR MANS LMAOOO

lhppr: I'm literally with him

lhppr: He is in front of me right now

lhppr: Watching me message u with a very suspicious face

m_mayfield: tell him I said he's stupid

"Max said you're stupid," El says noncommittally.

Mike rolls his eyes as he sets down their plates. "Tell her I love her too."

lhppr: He said he loves u too

m_mayfield: atta boy :)

m_mayfield: so u guys fuck yet

lhppr: Omg Max

lhppr: No why the hell

lhppr: I feel like u would find out from him first anyway jesus

lhppr: We held hands today tho it was so nice! He has nice hands!!!!!!!!!!!!

m_mayfield: ( ͡°👅 ͡°)

lhppr: DO NOT

lhppr: WE ARE ABOUT TO EAT I AM ABORTING THIS CONVERSATION GOODBYE

El slips her phone into her pocket and ignores the buzzes as she digs into her plate of pasta.

"So what did Max want?" Mike asks, stabbing the pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.

El gets distracted by his lips for a second (wow those are also… really nice…) but shakes herself out of it before he notices. She smiles. "Nothing, she just sent me your story and told me that you never cook this nice for her."

Mike swallows his food, then scoffs. "I have cooked whole roast chickens for her. That liar."

"Whole roast chickens?"

"And potatoes, and rice."

"Sounds nice."

He nods. "It's her favourite food, so whenever she needs a pick-me-up."

And ugh, Mike is just too sweet for his own good. El can all too easily imagine him taking the time to cook something special for his friends to cheer them up, and when she imagines him doing it for her it makes her want to kiss him more than usual.

For the afternoon, Mike and El decide to go on one of those little three-wheeled things and take a tour around the city. The drivers know all the cool spots, after all. Theirs takes them on a two-hour tour, stopping at a bunch of churches to explain their history (the interior of one is made entirely of gold, apparently) as well as lookout points and other important buildings. They're able to get off at some locations to take pictures, which is also really great. El's phone's camera roll is quickly becoming filled.

At the end, the driver leaves them back where they started, but it's too early for dinner, so Mike suggests they go souvenir shopping. Lord knows Max would kill them if they dared to go home without souvenirs for her.

"Hey," says El, scrutinizing the window display in front of them, "Do you think Dustin would want a duck?"

"Dustin would go for a duck."

For Dustin, El and Mike buy a bright green rubber duck. It has #LisbonDuckStore printed on the side. Will's getting a specialty jar of Nutella, which El buys another jar of for herself because waffles. Lucas gets a tiny pair of novelty binoculars, but Max is harder to shop for. For her, they end up buying name keychains that have a little Lisboa charm hanging from the end. There's no Max, so El buys a Maria and Mike gets an Xavier, and then they mix up the letters on one chain to spell her name.

The pair heads back to the apartment for dinner, then go for a walk along the riverside as it's getting dark. El's trying not to think too much about the fact that Mike keeps glancing at her. He looks nervous and she doesn't really want to consider why that might be.

But then… she hears a sharp intake of breath and feels his hand fumble against hers, so she takes the plunge and laces their fingers, heart in her throat. She doesn't look at him for a few seconds, just to gauge what's going on, but when she does she's faced with an adorable sight. He's looking at their hands and smiling, the tips of his ears pink and the same pinkness spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

Neither of them says anything for a few minutes, just walking and enjoying the bubbly feeling between them that El knows she isn't imagining. Mike starts swinging their joined hands lightly before he breaks the silence.

"So, I have something embarrassing to tell you," he starts.

El's intrigued. "What?"

"You were in Doddmann's classics lecture last year," Mike says, now blushing deeply.

"I know."

"So was I."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Max told me."

At this, he blanches. "Um, well… basically, I had a huge crush on you. And I didn't even know you yet, so that's embarrassing."

El already knew this months ago, thanks to Max, and she tells him as much. "I just wasn't expecting to actually hear it from you," she adds.

Mike's avoiding her gaze now, looking at the river beside them instead. "You didn't think it was weird? That I was weird?"

El laughs. "Let me tell you something embarrassing. I thought you and Max were a thing."

"Are you serious? Ew!" Mike exclaims. "I would never. She would never."

"Well, I didn't know any better!" El defends. "It was a good excuse not to talk to you."

Mike quirks an eyebrow curiously. "Why didn't you want to talk to me?"

"You make me nervous."

"…I make you nervous. Me. The human stick man."

El sighs. "Not so much anymore now that we've gotten to know each other, but you used to. I felt like I was about to fly through the ceiling every time you came to order. Know why? I was crushing on you too, hugely and stupidly. I didn't even know you."

Mike's beautiful smile returns. "Guess we're just a couple of idiots, huh?"

El feels like her face might break. "Guess so."

They walk along silently observing others on the sidewalk for a little more before Mike speaks again. "Bet you're wondering why I told you that, right?"

She was, but she wasn't going to say it. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well," says Mike dramatically, "If it wasn't already obvious, I still like you. A lot more now, actually. If this keeps going at the rate it's going then I'm about to fall in love with you."

El doesn't respond for a moment and she swears she can hear him swallow.

"Was that too much?" He asks, and she can hear the nervousness in his voice back in full force. "It's totally cool if you don't feel the same way, I just thought… you know… you should know."

She now has two options: either confess now or do it later in private, but she kind of doesn't want to wait. The sun is almost gone over the horizon, bathing the sky in brilliant reds and oranges, and it's warm and their walk has been so indescribably good that El just-

She has to stand on tiptoe to reach him, but she pulls Mike's head down by the back of his neck and kisses him.

Later, the group chat blows up.

Maxie [9:37 PM]: HWAT THE FUKC IS THIS

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IMG.294

Maxie [9:37 PM]: IS THIS REAL LIFE?

Dustin [9:38 PM]: or is this just fantasy…

Maxie [9:38 PM]: DUSTIN I DO NOT NEED U TO QUOTE QUEEN LYRICS AT ME I NEED AN EXPLANTAIAN

Maxie [9:38 PM]: ELEANOR HOPPER U EXPLAIN UR RECENT RIGHT TEH FKUC NOW

El had posted a picture she'd taken with Mike by the river after their unexpected confessional. He had his arm around her shoulders as he took the photo and she had hidden her face against his chest out of embarrassment, but she ended up liking the picture so much that she posted it to her Instagram captioned simply with a heart. Max had sent a screenshot of it to the group and also left multiple scandalized comments on the post itself.

Maxie [9:39 PM]: MICHAEL EXPLAIN THIS

Maxie [9:39 PM]: I WILL TELL UR MOTHER

The two of them are watching Max's messages come in on El's phone and at this, El starts laughing as Mike whips out his own phone to start typing furiously.

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: DONT TELL MY MOM

Frogge 🐸[9:40 PM]: ID LIKE TO HAVE A GIRLFRIEND IN PEACE FOR A LITTLE BEFORE SHE FINDS OUT

Maxie [9:40 PM]: OH SO SHES UR GIRLFRIEND NOW???????????

Maxie [9:40 PM]: ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

Will [9:41 PM]: but are you really surprised tho?

Will [9:41 PM]: idk about you guys but I was expecting this

Dustin [9:42 PM]: ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ *( ͡˘̴  ʖ̫ ͡˘̴ )* ･ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[9:42 PM]: love how Lucas is just absent

Will [9:42 PM]: he doesn't like chaos

Lucas [9:43 PM]: max was legit screaming my ear off sorry I was too busy recovering to answer

Lucas [9:43 PM]: but I'm happy for you guys

[9:43 PM]: we're happy too ty Lucas :)

After she sends that message, El looks away from her phone to find Mike looking at her with a warmth in his gaze that she's certain now is meant for her, and although their romance has only just begun, El feels deep inside herself that it's going to last a long time.

El looks up as the door opens, and there they are again. Max and Mike pushing each other through the entry and glaring, but now they smile when they see her behind the counter. Max waves and calls hello before making her way to a table, while Mike comes straight up to the register. El cashes him in and then starts making the coffees, all the while grinning because she can see her boyfriend watching her with that sappy smile of his in the reflection on the espresso machine.

"Iced coffee with milk and a chai latte?" She says, turning to hand the two drinks over.

Mike's floppy hair swings a little as he leans forward to give El the flightiest of kisses. "Thank you," he answers, picking up the cups. "We still on for later?"

El's smile doesn't falter. "Definitely."

"Great!" Mike starts to walk away toward Max, but then thinks better of it and retreats back to El for a second longer. He stands at the counter shuffling his feet until El boops his nose.

"What do you want, silly?"

He hesitates before saying, "I love you. I don't know why I'm still nervous, it's not like it's the first time I've said that."

El rolls her eyes. "I love you too. Now go bother Max, I'm working."

Mike gasps dramatically. "Why doth my fair lady rebuke me!"

"Shoo!"

He goes away. El watches the pair for a bit, just like she used to, but she isn't jealous anymore. She's happy.

[spartanguard]

something in the water, part 4

Emma is sent to investigate a mysterious sea monster appearance in her hometown. Thankfully, her family there knows her secret: that at night, she transforms into a swan. And she knows that whoever the universe thinks her soulmate is, as dictated by the tattoo on her side, won't be there. Though maybe she was wrong to assume that. And when did a merman start hanging out in the ocean near Storybrooke?

rated M (next chapter!) | 8.4k | part 1 (art) | part 2 (art) | part 3 (art) | AO3

A/N: Life continues to be busy, so thank you for your patience as I take my sweet time in updating my @cssns story!! It shouldn’t be *quite* as long until the next chapter, though! and thanks to @optomisticgirl for looking things over!!

The next morning saw Emma shuffling into the diner at what she would usually call an ungodly hour (8 am), but she was too awake to go back to sleep. After she transitioned back, she wrapped herself in a blanket in her car and continued to watch the cove for any sign of what she’d seen last night, but two hours of staring produced nothing. She was starting to think that she’d imagined it, which of course led to other concerns—like, maybe she was destined to take over Cruella’s mantle as the town crazy lady.

(Or maybe her eyes weren’t deceiving her, and there really was a merperson in town. What did she do then? Did it have anything to do with her mark? Did she even want it to?)

Coffee. Coffee would help.

She didn’t let the door close behind her before she plopped on a stool at the counter, ancient bell still ringing. The eternally grumpy Leroy, sitting two seats down, looked her way, grunted, and went back to his bacon and grits.

Thank God for Ruby. A steaming mug was in front of her without having to say a word. “Rough night down at the cove?”

“Not so much rough as weird,” Emma complained before taking a long sip. It certainly wasn’t Starbucks, but it was hot and made from beans—she’d take it. The burn it gave as it hit her tongue and moved through her roused her up just as much as the caffeine did. “I think I may have actually seen something, but I’m also not sure it wasn’t a fatigue-from-milking-cows-induced hallucination.”

“Well, like I said last night, I haven’t seen or heard about anything over there; but who knows? The ocean is a mysterious place. And so is Storybrooke, for that matter.”

“True that.” How many cities could boast that their little ice cream shop didn’t need a freezer because its owner kept things cool with her own ice magic? (Which reminded Emma—she needed to pay Ingrid a visit before this trip was done. Best rocky road ever.) “And how does Dorothy fit into that mix?”

Ruby blushed almost as red as the streaks in her hair. Emma had discovered over their dinner last night that just about any mention of Ruby’s new fling would do that to her—which was probably a good sign that it was going to be more than a fling.

“I’m not sure,” she said quietly, refilling Emma’s mug. “We haven’t gotten to that conversation yet; she was visiting her family back in Kansas this week so she...missed all that.”

It did worry Emma a bit, given her own history, that a significant other of Ruby’s would react poorly to the revelation of her other side. She’d definitely done the whole hiding-it thing for a long time with Neal; probably too long, in hindsight, but there was also the matter of keeping things a bit under wraps so as to not terrify society as a whole. “You’ll know when the time is right,” she assured Ruby.

“I hope so. I really don’t want to mess this one up.”

“From what you’ve told me, she’s nothing like Peter.” Ruby’s first boyfriend had ran away screaming when she transitioned in front of him, literally crying wolf, but the citizens of Storybrooke were well aware of their local pack, even if they didn’t all know that the owner of their favorite diner was a member of it. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about once you get there.”

Ruby gave her an uncharacteristically small smile, compared to her normal wolfish grins; that was how you knew she was actually worried. But it quickly melted away to something a bit more hungry. “And what about you? When are you gonna shake your tail feathers for a certain someone?”

Emma’s defensives immediately went up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you went on a date with this town’s sexiest librarian and you didn’t tell me!”

“I’m gonna tell Belle you said that,” Emma said evasively and took another sip of coffee. “And just when did you hear that? You told me you were going to ‘sext Dorothy until I come and/or pass out’ after I left.”

“I can multitask,” she replied, coy as ever. “You really think Snow could keep that quiet?”

“No,” Emma grumbled, slumping back over her mug.

“Well? How was it?”

She mused on it over a long pull of coffee. “I...don’t know?” she finally said. “Like, 90% good?”

“Bad kisser?”

“Ruby!” She glared at her friend.

“Hey, just making a guess. So he didn’t kiss you? Is that it?”

“Rubyyy.” She was whining now.

“Fiiiine,” Ruby sighed back, and turned to grab some dishes that were ready to go out. “But this conversation is not done.”

Emma just groaned again, and lamented the small size of Granny’s mugs. As she drained her second cup, the bell on the door sounded again, and just like in any small town, all eyes turned to it. But only Emma’s eyes lingered after everyone else went back to their meals; at least the newcomer was staring back.

She should have known it would be impossible to avoid Killian here, and the wide-eyed look he was giving her said he was thinking the same.

Ruby, of course, didn’t miss a beat. “Hey, Killian! I’ll be right with you; just sit at your normal seat.” Which, judging from his hesitant steps toward the counter, was the one next to Emma. And even if it wasn’t, his options were to sit next to her, or to Dr. Hopper down at the other end and risk an involuntary psychoanalysis before breakfast.

She didn’t need to look to know that he was scratching that spot behind his ear as he stood hesitantly a few feet away, while she was trying to find something interesting at the bottom of her empty mug.

But then she picked up the faintest scent of leather, paired with that crisp salty-and-spicy smell she’d come to recognize as his, and it immediately brought back the memory of being wrapped in his jacket. It had been a long time since she had felt so warm and safe from a simple gesture like that, which either meant her bar was very low—or, more likely, that she was a fool for trying to ignore him.

It was completely possible to still be friends and keep her distance, though, right? Right. Okay, she could do that. So she took a deep breath, turned on her seat, put a smile on her face, looked up and him, and spoke.

“Hi,” they both blurted out at the same time. Because of course they did. Uneasy smiles quickly melted into easy giggles, as if their mutual awkwardness made everything more relaxed.

He slid onto the stool next to her and stared at the counter for a moment before looking back up at her, a penitent look on his face. “Emma...I just want to say I’m sorry for the way things ended the other night. I apologize if anything made you uncomfortable.”

“I…” she started, not quite expecting that. Her plan had just been to pretend it had never happened, but she couldn’t deny that his was probably a bit better (or at least more mature). “Uh, me too. Things got a bit heavier than I expected, and I know I’m at fault for that. Sorry.”

“It happens,” he shrugged. “That said, I do value that you trusted me enough to share with me; I know how hard that can be.”

No shit he did. “Hey, same; it had to be even tougher for you. Thank you.” She placed her hand over his where it rested on the counter and gave a quick squeeze.

“Did you two fuck or something?”

They both jumped at the gruff—and loud—question from the down the counter, where Leroy was giving a stern look.

“W-what?” Emma stammered, and could feel a flush rising on her cheeks.

“Sure sounds like you did,” he huffed, returning to his bacon.

She was speechless—partly because of the implication that Leroy figured they had; partly because yeah, it really had sounded like that; and maybe a bit because she was now imagining what that would be like. (Probably amazing.)

Killian nudged her shoulder with his and tugged her out of her silent shock. If he’d been embarrassed, he’d clearly gotten over it and was giving her one of those ridiculous dimpled smirks. “He clearly isn’t aware of your first-date rule,” he said quietly.

“Huh?”

“That you don’t pillage and plunder on the first one,” he finished for her, winking.

She snorted a bit. “He must think we’ve been on two or three.”

“Oh? Is that when pirate activities are permitted to begin?”

“Somewhere in there,” she quipped playfully. “You’ll just have to find out.”

“Is that you asking me out?” he queried, almost cheekily.

“Maybe,” she answered coyly—a bit because she was trying to rein in the flirting, and a bit because she was finding it harder to resist the more time she spent with him. Wasn’t this why she was avoiding him in the first place? But now also: why was she, again? That was silly of her.

A voice cleared; apparently Ruby had slipped back behind the counter and was now standing in front of them, grinning wolfishly at their banter. “So, what’ll it be for breakfast, lovebirds?” she asked, winking at Emma.

Emma rolled her eyes, but at the exact same time, they both blurted out their orders. “Pancakes.” And then promptly dissolved into quiet laughter at their synchronicity.

Ruby just turned towards the kitchen to put their orders in, but Leroy had one more thing to say, apparently.

“Well, if you ain’t fuckin’, you should be.” And then he slapped some cash on the counter and left, leaving a stunned and blushing pair behind him. Emma was pretty sure her face had never been more on fire.

Thankfully, Granny came by to refill their coffees, and Emma hoped beyond hope that the old wolf would have some sort of reassurance for them—that Leroy shouldn’t be taken seriously before noon or something. But to her eternal anguish, it was nothing of the sort.

“He’s right, you know,” she said all-too casually, glancing between them and walking off.

Well, now she was completely mortified. And remembered why she was avoiding him.

“Allow me to apologize again,” Killian murmured in an equally embarrassed tone.

“No, you don’t need to,” she sighed. “This is just...Storybrooke. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re just now being subjected to this.”

“And why’s that?”

“Seriously? Look at you!” she exclaimed.

His smirk back made her realize what she said. Dammit, this was why she usually wasn’t part of the world this early. “Oh, fuck me,” she groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Are you sure? Sounds like that’s what everyone wants to happen.”

She just groaned even louder and collapsed against the counter. “Let me know when my food gets here; until then, I’m hiding and shutting my mouth.”

“So I can drink your coffee, then?”

“No!” She sat straight up and tugged her mug to her chest, slopping a bit of the scalding liquid on her hand. “Shit,” she cursed as she shook it off; why was Granny’s coffee the same temperature as lava?

(Also: why was this shaping up to be such a terrifically terrible morning?)

“Oh, bloody hell—I’m sorry, love,” Killian said, actually having an acceptable reason to apologize this time. “Let me help you with that.” He grabbed her flailing hand with his right one, and set it in his left palm. Then he took a napkin and dipped it in a glass of water that had been left out, and, leaning forward to inspect, gently pressed it on her burned skin. She let out an exhale; that felt perfect. “Better?” he asked, looking up at her through his ridiculous lashes.

“Yeah,” she breathed, both in relief and because she was still getting used to just how damn blue his eyes were.

He straightened his spine, but his eyes didn’t leave her gaze. And suddenly, the air in the few inches between them was nearly as hot as her coffee.

She wasn’t sure why, but her eyes flitted to his lips—his extraordinary, full, luscious lips, and she could still see a bit of coffee left on them. It’d be a shame to waste it; maybe she should just lean forward and—

“Food’s up,” Granny nearly shouted, and the clatter of their plates on the counter made them jump apart. That was either the best- or worst-timed delivery—she couldn’t decide—but they both thanked Granny nonetheless.

Wordlessly, they busied themselves with their dishes, but still managed to reach for the lone bottle of syrup they’d been left with at the same time. The fingers of her left hand brushed the back of his right, and the light dusting of dark hair there. And for some reason, they just froze like that for much longer than they should have, and part of her kind of wanted to grab the rest of his hand, but he then he pulled it back.

“Ladies first,” he said, smiling politely, but she could see the rosy color on his cheeks. Was this how it was always going to be with them? (And part of her was wondering just how long “always” would be.)

“Thanks,” she replied, and poured a healthy amount of syrup over her hotcakes—or at least, what she deemed a healthy amount. Killian had an eyebrow arched in disbelief when she handed the now-lighter bottle to him. “What?”

He took the container and said, “I’m not generally one to judge, but were you planning on having any pancakes with that syrup?”

“They’re still in there,” she protested, cutting into her stack with her fork. Sure, they were drowning in syrup, and it dripped off when she lifted her first bite, but that was just how she liked it. “You’ve clearly never had great syrup, have you?” she continued as she licked it off her lips, a bit seductively.

He arched an eyebrow and bit into his much drier pancakes, but she saw his eyes go wide as he swallowed. “No, I don’t believe I have.” And proceeded to pour significantly more on.

“Told ya,” she teased, taking another bite. “Granny gets hers fresh, and New England has the best there is.”

“I believe it,” he agreed. “Although I’m still getting used to having something so sweet for breakfast.”

“Oh? What do you usually have?”

“Mackerel, mostly.”

She choked down her next bite. “Fish? For breakfast?”

“Pretty much every meal, really. Coastal England,” he explained with a shrug.

It made sense, but she had to wonder: “So...you’ve never had a Pop Tart?”

He chuckled. “Afraid not.”

“Oh my god. I grew up on those. Probably because they were cheap for foster homes, but oh man. So good.”

Conversation continued to flow as they ate, discussing the kinds of foods they had as kids (him: fish; her: Lunchables and Happy Meals), her telling him what schooling was like in the US (he was homeschooled, apparently), and then chatting about favorite movies, since they didn’t get to that the other night (where they discovered they still shared a love of The Princess Bride).

“If you still need anything for your job, I’m sure there’s something in the library, if you wanted to stop by,” he offered, far from nonchalantly, sneaking glances at her as he carefully scraped up the last of his scrambled eggs (which she guessed he’d discovered also tasted great with maple syrup).

“I just might have to take you up on that,” she replied, equally not casual, especially as she used a finger to wipe a stripe of syrup from her dish and then licked it off, turning to look at him as she did. It was totally a Ruby move and she’d completely blame it on her friend’s terrible influence.

“I look forward to it,” he replied, popping the ‘t’ and letting his tongue poke out to lick his lips; she wasn’t sure if that was just to get any last drops of syrup, in response to her lewd gesture, or both. She was leaning towards the latter...as well as towards Killian.

But just then, her phone lit up with a text from Regina and both eyes instinctively jumped to it. “Oh shit, the time,” Killian cursed, and hopped off his stool in a panic. He quickly pulled some cash from a pocket, tossed it on the counter, and grabbed his satchel from where it had been forgotten on the floor ever since he sat down. “I apologize for dashing out, love, but if I don’t leave now, I’ll be facing Belle’s wrath. See you soon?” It was more a question than a farewell.

“Yeah, you will,” she told him, smiling—at the idea of their next meeting, and at how adorable he was when he was flustered.

“Can’t wait. Until then,” he finished, nodding his head in some sort of bow, and then dashing off. She followed him with her eyes, swiveling on the stool as he left. He gave her one last grin as he pushed the door open, and she released what could only be described as a happy sigh as she watched him head down the stairs and down the street.

“I heard that,” Granny said matter-of-factly, once again filling Emma’s mug.

“No, you didn’t,” she tossed back, defenses going up again.

“You really want to argue with what I did or did not hear?” Granny sassed back; they both knew the answer was a resounding no. “I may be old, but my senses are still sharper than yours, sweetheart, and I know what I’m seeing.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “And honey, between us? It doesn’t take extra-strength senses to see it.”

Shit. She was really falling for him, wasn’t she?

(And she wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing.)

As she meandered across town back to the house, she replied to Regina’s message; they hadn’t talked since Emma arrived in Storybrooke so she was looking for an update, even if neither of them were terribly pressed to solve the maybe-mystery and she still had over a week. She texted back that things were going well, and that there was possibly a lead but she had to research it more. She still wasn’t sure she trusted her eyes or brain to tell the truth about whatever she’d seen, but it at least warranted more investigation, regardless of any personal reservations.

And she thanked whatever gods were up there that Regina had texted and not called—while her boss was much more chill than the entirety of Storybrooke when it came to matchmaking (and completely understood Emma in that regard, having her own broken-hearted history), she would have immediately picked up on the chipper tone Emma would have been unable to hide and wondered just how “well” things were going and if “going well” had a name.

It had seriously been ages since she’d felt anything like this—not since Neal, maybe even since her last high school crush (Graham, who had just moved to Storybrooke from Ireland back then; clearly, she had a thing for guys with British Isles accents...but who didn’t?). She just didn’t do this—she’d never let herself, and let alone had met a guy worth pursuing. And while she knew she should be a bit more cautious, for the first time, she was finding she didn’t want to be.

She had to force herself to avoid the library that day, electing for another day of farm work and internet research. She briefly continued her search for info on ashrays, but given what she may or may not have seen last night, she decided she better delve more into merpeople—but that took her to increasingly weird and obscure corners of the internet, and more than once had led her to DeviantArt or some odd piece of fan fiction. (Who the hell wrote mermaid sex?) (And what did that mean in regards to her mark?) (Though, it was kind of hot…)

That left her with basically no choice other than to go there the next day, and she just hoped she could restrain herself enough from either making Killian think she was completely insane, or pressing him against the stacks and kissing the crap out of him.

She didn’t even make it that long before seeing him, though: she, David, and Snow went out for ice cream after dinner and there he was, picking up a pint of rum raisin from Ingrid. Of course, he joined them as they all ate their treats (Emma finally getting her Rocky Road), falling yet again into easy conversation that ended with Snow inviting him over for dinner the next night.

That was the thing with Killian: aside from the awkward end to their conversation the other night, everything was just...easy. It wasn’t forced, and there was no pretense: they just seemed to flow together. It really should have frightened her, especially after that conversation, but she knew that avoiding him was futile, so why bother?

And she just really didn't want to anymore.

That night, at the cove again, she got a couple more glimpses of the creature. They were brief—the moon glinting off of dark-colored scales and outline of a fin before it disappeared below the surface—but it was enough for her to be almost certain it was a merperson. What to do next, she wasn’t sure. She knew where to start, though; the real challenge would be in not coming off insane.

The next day, she headed to the library after lunch, a couple coffees in hand.

“Emma,” he greeted immediately, looking up from the computer at the circulation desk. His glasses were slipping down his nose a bit; paired with the huge, dimpled grin he was giving her, he’d never looked more adorable.

But the bulge of his biceps in that barely buttoned shirt sure said something else.

That wasn’t why she was here, though. (Well...not entirely.) “Hey,” she answered. “Thought you might need an afternoon pick-me-up...and maybe might be able to help me find a few more books?”

“Bribing me?” he insinuated as he strode around the desk. “That doesn’t seem your style.”

“Oh? And what is my style?”

He stood in front of her, practically invading her space; his warm scent mixed with that of the coffee and she was pretty sure that nothing had ever smelled as delicious. “You strike me as the type to go after what you want, and to hell with what anyone else says.”

He wasn’t far off, but she probably wasn’t as bold as he assumed. Then again, he definitely brought out a side of her that not even she had seen in years, possibly ever—it was one thing to put on a front and play a role as part of her job; it was a whole other thing to do it genuinely, and was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she tossed back coyly. It was an instinctive response and probably a bit cool for where they were at, but those old walls of hers weren’t completely gone, and every now and then, they tried to get in her way.

“You know I do, Emma.” His sincerity tamped them back down for now, though.

She hid her responding smile in her coffee, taking a long sip as she handed Killian his. And she didn’t miss his own genuine, gentle grin as he took it.

“So, you were after marine biology?” he asked after swallowing a sip, but then stared down at the cup, surprised. “Oh—you got my order right!”

“I’m a PI; I notice things,” she responded as they headed to a different part of the library. “And it’s pretty hard to mess up black coffee.”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered, complainingly.

“Oh, no, I’m aware.” She hadn’t added that the reason it caught her attention was because it was her coffee preference, too. “But yeah, anything else we can turn up on sea life would help. And I could probably use some more fantasy books, to help pass the time. It’s not that exciting a cove,” she added, chuckling for reinforcement.

Thankfully, he laughed in agreement. “Aye, I’m sure we can find something for you there. Anything in particular strike your fancy?” he asked as he browsed the shelves in front of him.

“Well, if I’m hanging out by the sea, maybe some more stories like that? Like mermaids or something?” she answered as casually as she could muster.

He was silent as he pulled some books off the shelf and set them on the table in the nook. “Aye, I know we have a few,” he answered solemnly. “However, I’m not sure how accurate they’ll be.”

That took her by surprise—did he know something? “Oh? They’re not? How so?”

He shrugged. “I mean, growing up on the coast, you hear all the old fishermen’s stories, the legends,” he explained, returning to the shelf. “About how you shouldn’t get too close to sirens, how they lure sailors to their deaths. That sort of thing.” He chuckled as he grabbed another volume. “There’s this one story about a group of mermen in Scotland who basically challenge ship’s captains to rap battles. Bloody ludicrous,” he laughed.

She giggled with him, partly because his laugh was infectious and she loved its sound, but also because she knew it might not be as ridiculous as he thought.

“But I’ll see what we have. Maybe there’s something even crazier in those books,” he said with a wink and placed his damaged hand on the small stack he’d gathered. “This looks like everything else that we have; I’ll leave you to it and see what else I can find you for pleasure reading.”

“Thanks,” she called after him, and settled in for some completely unnecessary skimming. Unless there was a tiny breed of whale with really narrow, thin tails, she wasn’t going to get any leads in here. But at least she got to enjoy the view as he walked away.

An hour or so later, she was half glancing at the field guide in front of her and half texting Ruby while sipping her coffee when he came back, more books in hand. “There wasn’t a ton, but I managed to find a few things that should hold your interest.” She perked up as he came in, for multiple reasons, and looked over the spines when he set them on the table next to her. Some were old, some were clearly meant for children, one looked like a romance novel (since she now knew that that was a thing), but there was one that said Merfolk in gold foil that looked promising.

“Thanks! These will definitely keep me entertained.” She was itching to start going through them, but knew how that would look.

Thankfully, he redirected the subject. “How goes it here?” he asked, nodding at what she’d been half-reading.

“Pretty good,” she fibbed. “This one has a lot of good stuff in it—just what I was looking for, really.” (She’d at least had the courtesy to make it seem like she’d looked at the others, rearranging them into a messy stack.)

“Glad I could help,” he grinned back. God, she hated lying to that smile—but then it fell. “I hate to do this, or make it seem like I’m kicking you out,” he started, “but I have to head over to the elementary school in a bit so I’ll need to lock up. But obviously, you can check out anything you need, or come back later.”

“Oh! No, I don’t want to hold you up; let me just check out this one,” she said, adding the field guide to the top of the mermaid books, “and these, and I should be good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah; Snow probably has something for me to do before dinner tonight.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he agreed, chuckling. And without a word, he picked up the stack while she gathered the rest of her things, and walked with her to the circulation desk.

While she was digging out her library card for him, she could tell he was chewing his lower lip in thought. “I need to ask, just because I’m curious: where exactly have you been doing your surveillance for this job from?”

“Oh, Cruella offered me a spot by her place,” she said casually, handing over the dinged-up card. At least that wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t exactly what she did. (Though telling him she spent the night skinny dipping might not be the worst thing.)

He scanned the card and handed it back. “Have you actually seen anything?”

“Nothing conclusive. Thus: the books.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, then continued scanning while obviously thinking about something, brow slightly furrowed. “Well,” he finally said, “why don’t you investigate with me?”

He said it casually, looking up with another easy smile, but it made her freeze. Not at the idea of spending more time with him, obviously, but...it could be dangerous.

Because she knew that, come 11 pm, she wouldn’t want to leave, but she wasn’t sure if she was quite ready for any major revelations yet. And what if there really was something supernatural out there? How would he react to even that?

Although...it could be a good way to test the waters, in that regard.

She swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice her momentary nerves. “I could be probably be persuaded to. What’s in it for me?”

He scanned the last book and finalized the checkout in the computer. “Well, you know how comfortable my chairs are, and what my beer selection looks like,” he offered. “I’m right in the middle of the cove, so you’d have a good view of the whole thing.” As if to emphasize his point about a good view, he lifted the stack of books to set them on the counter by her, shifting open the V of his shirt in the process as the muscles of his chest moved underneath it. “And the added benefit of my delightful company,” he finished with his flawless grin.

“Hm, you make a mighty compelling case,” she mused as he walked around the counter. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that.”

“Excellent! That can be our next date,” he stated as she took the books in her arms.

“Next?” she queried, slightly jesting. “I don’t remember asking.”

“You’ll just have to forgive me for going out of turn,” he threw back, stepping into her space and smiling. But then his face became quite serious. “Will you go out with me again, Emma?”

His proximity was overwhelming her senses—his warmth radiated off him, carrying his scent with it, and the earnest hope in those sea blue eyes was all she could see.

She blamed her next action on her momentary intoxication: she rose ever so slightly on her toes and placed a small kiss on the apple of his cheek, where an old scar met a pair of freckles. “Yes,” she said quietly as she went back down on her heels.

His fingers brushed the now-rosy spot where her lips had just been and his eyes were wide in a shocked, bashful expression; heck, she was blushing herself from it, and how bold she was and how adorable he looked.

(She was totally screwed, wasn’t she?)

But of course, now she didn’t know what to say since she’d gone and done that, even if it was such a playground thing to do; it was obviously a huge deal for both of them. Better to get out now before the inevitable panic came. “See you later?” she said, for some reason saying it like a question even though she knew she would.

“O-of course,” he stammered back. “Snow would have my head if I bailed.”

Their shared chuckle set them both back ease. “Yup, she would. Til then.”

“I look forward to it.”

(Definitely, completely, 100% screwed.)

Somehow, Snow actually didn’t have anything for Emma to do at home other than some quick dusting; she even had the table set already. So Emma took advantage of the free time to dig into the new books.

The kids’ books were quickly tossed aside, cute as they were, but were clearly fiction. The older one was practically written in Old English and therefore indecipherable, so she ruled that one out until she could pick Killian’s British brain about some of it.

The romance novel...just, no. (Although she took a peek...and held onto it for later.)

She finally got to the one that had grabbed her attention earlier. The cover was blue leather embossed with images of a mermaid, merman, and other fish and shells surrounding the golden title. And inside was exactly what she needed: everything about merfolk, from where they lived, to when they were most visible, to how to avoid being drowned by a siren, even reproduction. (Which had her wondering if the author of the romance novel ever saw this, because the artists online sure hadn’t...oh God, why was she becoming an expert on this?)

She fell so deep into her research that she jumped a mile when the doorbell rang. And then it was a mad dash to make sure she didn’t look like a hot mess before heading downstairs; she tended to sprawl on her bed while reading, leaving her hair and clothes all sorts of rumpled. She changed into a not-wrinkled shirt and braided her hair before pounding down the stairs gracelessly and nearly stumbling at the bottom—right into Killian.

He caught her, though, and righted her on her feet. “Hello to you, too, love,” he joked.

“Ah, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine; don’t worry. Just glad I’d already handed off the wine,” he assured her, nodding toward Snow, who stood to the side in the entryway.

Emma cast a glance at her sister-in-law, but she knew what she was going to see: a cheesy, excited grin plastered all over her face at the sight of Emma in someone’s arms.

Oh, right—Killian was still holding her. It felt so comfortable—so natural—that she’d hardly noticed. So it probably looked exactly like whatever Snow was thinking.

He seemed to realize that, too, and gently squeezed her sides before stepping back. Uncertainty on his face told her that he wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line or not, so she decided to tell him he hadn’t by grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the dining room, throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder that he responded to in kind.

Thankfully, the rest of the night went by far less eventfully, in that regard, but she didn’t miss the way Snow seated them next to each other. (And then lit candles and dimmed the lights. It was basically a double date.)

(But, where she once thought she’d roll her eyes at something as cheesy as that, she not only enjoyed herself, but found herself looking forward to the possibility of more. That was definitely new. With Neal, she basically tried to keep him as far away from David as possible; whereas he and Killian almost got along too well.)

After dessert, Emma walked Killian down to the pond. The sun was still out, and Killian had already said he couldn’t stay terribly late, but she still wanted to show it to him. Even if she couldn’t explain the entire role of the pond in her life, it felt like a fair trade after he’d somewhat bared his soul on his ship.

They didn’t even talk much; just held hands and sat at the end, watching the sun set. It was simple, casual, slightly romantic, and just...easy. She even went so far as to rest her head on his shoulder; his spine momentarily stiffened at the contact, but then he sort of leaned back into her and she felt him place a kiss in her hair. How she didn’t melt on the spot was a question she couldn’t answer—maybe, in a cosmic play on words, she’d molt later?  

The sun finally finished its descent, and Killian morosely declared that he should go. “But I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?” he asked as she walked him to the end of the gravel driveway.

“Definitely. I’ll bring pizza.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Another brief moment of awkwardness hit—neither was really sure how to say goodbye, and she kind of felt like the ball was in his court, placed there by her earlier peck on the cheek. But then there was his at the pond...so where were they?

He decided. Much like she had earlier, he leaned over her—immediately making her heart race—lightly gripped her shoulders, placed a kiss just to the side of her mouth, and murmured his goodbye. She somehow managed not to dissolve again while giving her own farewell as he started his walk home.

She waited until he was out of sight to head back into the house. That weird twinge in her side was back but she didn’t give a single damn—she was flying and she didn’t even have wings yet.

If Snow or Dave noticed her goofy grin or girlish sigh as she climbed the stairs, they didn’t say anything. And she didn’t even bother to go to the pond for her transformation—when her alarm went off, she just threw open her window, stripped down, and once in her swan form, flew out into the night.

She swooped around town a bit, slowly making her way to Killian’s cove (she knew it had a proper, contrived name, but that was what she was gonna call it now). The wind in her feathers made her feel as free as her heart felt light—the first time in ages she’d been able to say that.

But she was glad for the anonymity of her swan form, too; it was only because of that she felt able to express her joy. If Ruby or Granny were out tonight, they might have caught a glimpse of her flying, but it wasn’t like much could be deduced by a lazy flight pattern, right?

And she just wasn’t ready for it to be public knowledge yet. She trusted Killian, but not many other people or the kind of pressure they might put in them when they were both clearly so damaged by their pasts. Snow and David being aware was unavoidable; the rest of Storybrooke could wait.

She landed gracefully on the surface of the cove, swimming around in some happy little circles before starting what had become her usual rounds. Killian wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and neither was the merperson, but that was okay—she still had time to see them both.

Since nothing was happening and she didn’t want to risk passing out so far from home—even if showing up naked at Killian’s door didn’t seem like a completely terrible idea—she flew home to her pond, waiting for tomorrow.

The next day at lunch, Ruby tried to sniff out what was different about Emma, because apparently “the only way more endorphines would be rolling off of you would be if you’d had sex, and then I’d be smelling more than just you.”

Emma just rolled her eyes, laughed, and ate her onion rings, content to keep it to herself for the time being.

“I’ll figure it out!” Ruby promised.

“I’m sure you will.”

Ruby leaned over the counter conspiratorially. “Especially if it has to do with all the ones Killian was giving off this morning.”

Emma was equally concerned by that statement and thrilled by that fact.

Her hands had never been so shaky when holding a pizza as they were after she rang Killian’s doorbell. She took a deep breath to calm herself a bit lest the pizza become a tragic victim of her excitement—and no food as exquisite as pizza deserved that fate.

The door swung open only a moment later to reveal a grinning Killian, dressed in just a T-shirt and some ratty jeans but still looking terribly attractive.

“Hello, love; that smells delicious.” The leer on his face told her he wasn’t just talking about the pizza.

Ever the gentleman, he escorted her through his house—a cute little seaside cottage decorated in dark marine hues, both light and masculine at the same time—and then out the back door to the porch that connected to his dock.

“Well, it’s a nice evening; hopefully that’s amenable for your mystery creature,” he commented as they strode out to the end of it.

Anything she’d read said that merfolk typically only went to the surface once the sun started going down, to reduce risk of being seen. “Hope so,” she agreed, but she also had a feeling she might get a bit distracted.

He was glancing around at the water as they sat down. “This thing—it wouldn’t happen to be a swan, would it?”

Her heart skipped a beat and she froze in her seat. Shit. Did he know it was her? Had David said something? Or Ruby?

“I keep seeing one around here,” he continued casually, unaware of her distress as he opened his beer—and, she reminded herself, he wouldn’t have reason to suspect it might cause her that because he was a normal person, and normal people don’t expect their girlfriends to be the Swan Princess. He finished his observation with, “But I only ever see the one.”

She calmed herself and recovered quickly. “Oh? I don’t think that’s what I’m looking for, based on the description I was given, but what’s so unusual about that? Swans are pretty common.”

“They are, but don’t swans mate for life? So it’s weird to see just one by itself. I kind of feel bad for it,” he added as he opened the pizza box; even though logically she knew better, she still couldn’t tell if he was aware or not that he was actually talking to the swan.

“Well,” she started, choosing her words carefully. Maybe it was better to speak for herself as much as any hypothetical single swan (and, having been on the unwanted receiving end of a few aggressive male swans’ advances, she could speak from plenty of experience). “Maybe she just hasn’t found the right mate yet,” she stated, and then shoved a slice of pizza in her mouth before she could potentially stick her foot in it or reveal too much.

He seemed to catch her drift, though, reading her all too well. “Let’s hope it’s that, then, and she does find her mate someday,” he said, smiling softly.

She swallowed her bite (and her nerves, and possibly her sanity) and added, “I’m sure she will.”

They mostly spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence as they kept a lookout and watched the sunset. The sky put on a spectacular show but nothing from the ocean did, save for a few fish that flopped up and out. (“Is that what you’re after?” he teased. “I sure hope not,” she replied.)

And she’d been right—10:30 came around way too soon for her liking, even if they’d only held hands and drank beer the whole time. But it was just so relaxing and easy and nice; she’d had so little of that and was loathe to give it up.

The alternative—staying and revealing everything—wasn’t an option, though, so she pried herself away with the promise of returning the next night and another quick kiss on the cheek.

But just because she had to leave him didn’t mean she had to leave-leave. She drove to her secluded spot by Cruella’s, let the transformation happen, and headed back out on the water, hoping Killian had returned to the dock.

Alas, he hadn’t, and the house was dark—but he’d left his beer bottle on his chair, and his sweatshirt from earlier. She was chuckling internally (since she couldn’t out loud) at the adorableness of it when she heard a splash from the open water.

Her eyes jumped toward the sound in an instant. There wasn’t anything there, but she saw the ripples from where it had been. She dove under in an attempt to catch a glimpse, but it was too murky.

When she surfaced, it was to the sound of another splash and the sight of another ripple. Damn.

It got quiet for a few minutes, so she picked a dock (that wasn’t Killian’s) to hang out under and watch, hoping for another sighting.

And she didn’t have to wait long until she saw it: the same blue fin from the other night. Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her—it really did look like that: a gorgeous, deep blue, with light-colored specks and edges.

It slipped back under quickly and gracefully, but there was no denying anymore that it could be anything but a merperson—likely a man, judging by the size and shape of the fin (per the book).

She was actually kind of happy that Killian wasn’t here to see this; she was glad that she wasn’t completely rocking his world just yet. That bandaid covering knowledge of the supernatural could stay on a little bit longer before she ripped it off.

The merman surfaced (breached? No, that’s whales—she actually had read the field guide a bit, to be polite) a few more times, but then seemed to settle in for the night and everything went quiet.

She went back closer to her car for the night, slept, and woke just before dawn, as usual. There still wasn’t any action, but she’d noticed that Killian had gone out at some point to get the stuff he’d left behind—and she wasn’t at all surprised; she could easily picture him waking from a dead sleep to realize something was untidy.

She chuckled to herself—out loud this time—and drove home.

The next few nights passed very much the same: she’d bring food, or he’d already have some there (he made excellent seafood alfredo, it turned out) and they hung out on the dock, keeping watch and hanging out until she had to leave, which got harder and harder to do each night.

He started each evening hoping they’d have better luck than the night before, making Emma bite her tongue about the merperson; it became quickly apparent to her that it (he?) only came out later, making her wonder if their chatter frightened him away. It would make sense, if he was trying to avoid being seen. But Emma certainly wasn’t about to put the kibosh on these nights together.

One night, they talked a bit more about their pasts and mementos they carried—for her, some odds and ends from childhood but mainly her necklace and how it was the last thing Ruth gave her (but stopping at that, for obvious reasons); for him, a ring that had been his brother’s and the leather cuff on his wrist that had been passed down his mother’s family. (“Is that why you freaked out about the water on our date? You didn’t want to get it wet?” “Essentially.” That made sense now.)

On another, he pointed out the constellations to her and told how he used them to help navigate when he moved here. He didn’t want to rely on the GPS in the middle of the ocean, and it did cut out on him a few times. “Which one did you follow then?” she asked, laying next to him on a blanket spread out on the dock.

“That bright one there—Deneb,” he said pointing. “It’s part of the Northern Cross, which is also known as Cygnus—the swan.” She tried really hard to ignore the fact that a swan had led him to her.

And on the next, they’d scooted their chairs closer together in an attempt to cuddle; it had gotten chilly again, because Maine. He gave her his hoodie after they finished dinner—pancakes from Granny’s—but she was still shivering, so he just hauled her into his lap. She protested at first, but he really was warm.

And he was close—so close. She could see the golden flecks in the center of his irises and the faint freckles across his nose and the lush pinkness of his lips and then—and then they were on hers, soft and firm within the scratch of his scruff, and tasting like maple syrup. It didn’t last long, but it didn’t need to—it was perfect like that. (But she was also pretty sure her heart was beating so hard that her wings were going to sprout right then and there.)

Leaving was terribly difficult that night—especially because now that the seal was broken, they couldn’t stop kissing. Quick pecks, deeper kisses, a bit of tongue action—she wasn’t entirely sure how she got from the dock to her car without throwing him against every single vertical surface. (She somehow kept it to three.) They were even awkwardly kissing through the open Bug window before she slowly backed out.

But, like each night, she drove to her hiding spot, just barely throwing her car into park and getting her shirt off before the transformation took this time. (She was glad she’d at least gotten that far; there was definitely a night when she was a teenager that she spent tangled in a t-shirt.)

And there was the merman, like he had been the last few nights. He still never fully broke the surface, and eventually disappeared down there, but she did get some glimpses of pale skin that shined in bright contrast to the dark scales in the moonlight.

And now she wondered—just how close could she get to him? (Or should she even try?) She was being paid to, for one, but also to sate her curiosity.

She tried to decide what to do as she drifted off to sleep, but all she could really focus on was Killian—how incredible it was to kiss him, and how amazing other things might be.

And then she was taking a shower the next day and caught a glimpse of her soulmark; somehow, she’d forgotten about it in the past few days—completely Killian’s fault, she had to assume—but it almost seemed to mock her now.

So no, she decided; she probably wouldn’t try to meet the merman. That sounded like tempting fate, and even if fate was potentially tempting, she was pretty sure she had something even better now.

thanks for reading and sticking with me! tagging @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @initiala @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @sherlockianwhovian @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat @bmbbcs4evr @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @jaiabean @therooksshiningknight @a-faekindagirl @technicallysizzlingcloud @deathbycaptainswan @superadam54

[diamondchoices]

The Truth Hurts

[shows up two weeks late with starbucks and one fanfiction. but hey, this time it’s It Lives instead of HSS, though I do have three fics started for that...oops.]

[MC: Jaxon Harris (ILITW), Kita Vance (ILB)]

             The day was overcast, gray clouds in the skies and the colors of the town dulled as he made his way down Main Street. He was nervous—really nervous. His right hand was fiddling with the whistle at the end of a long chain.

             You can do this, he thought to himself. You need to do this; if not for them, then for yourself.

             He rolls his bottom lip—already chapped and skin cracking where he’s repeatedly bit and picked at—between his teeth. How will they take it? Will they hate him too, for keeping it to himself for years? His thumb rubs against the whistle with a little more force. Their faces, hurt and twisted and pained, flash through his mind on a loop, cycling from friend to friend to friend. Andy’s face—at homecoming, in the woods facing a zombified Tom, in the ruins facing down Jane—in particular, came to mind more often than the others.

             He’s…not sure what he would do if Andy were to hate him, to never talk to him again, to break up with him.

             But it was everything he was expecting to happen.

             “Yo, Jaxon!”

             He turned around, wide eyed with hand wrapped around the whistle in a white-knuckled grip and saw the very person on his mind.

             Andy was jogging on the sidewalk behind him, one arm waving in the air and bright smile on his face. The hood of his sweatshirt bounces with his movements. He looks a bit like a kid again, and Jaxon has to laugh a little at the sight. He waits for the other to catch up with happiness in his heart and dread heavy in stomach.

             “Hey,” Jaxon greets softly, threading his fingers between Andy’s and bumping his shoulder lightly. “Long time, no see.”

             “It was, like, three days!” Andy laughs.

             “Three days without your pretty face?” Jaxon teases. His free hand reached up to rest against the side of his face, thumb rubbing across the swell of his cheekbone. “Too long.”

             “Smooth,” Andy muttered, leaning up the inch to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s lips.

             “Well, I have to keep up with you somehow,” Jaxon muttered, head tilting so that their lips met in a proper kiss. One kiss turned to two, two to three, three to four. Between each, one would insist that they should get to the arcade bar and the other would draw them back into another kiss while agreeing the need to leave. It was a sweet distraction for Jaxon, even though with each kiss the weight in his stomach dropped lower, lower, lower. He couldn’t help but think that this would just make the pain to come worse as he fell a little more in love with the man in front of him.

             Eventually, though, they managed to move forward down Main Street to the town’s recent addition of an arcade bar. It had come highly recommended from Tom. Jaxon was hoping its atmosphere would offset the truth he had to share.

             They were able to find their friends at a corner table—the largest offered—with almost everyone present. Lily and Lucas were just setting down a pitcher of the latest batch of Graveyard while Dan and Stacy laughed. He could only smile at the sight. It was far from their senior year of high school, but each time Jaxon saw his childhood friends all together in one place enjoying each other’s company, he was reminded all over again of both his loneliness during their time apart and his thankfulness that they’d been able to come back together. And, more importantly, that they’d been able to stay together.

             “Hey guys,” Jaxon greeted. Stacy and Lucas smiled while Dan raised a hand in greeting. Lily came around the table and gave him a hug that he returned with just as much enthusiasm. She moved to hug Andy as Jaxon embraced Lucas, then Stacy, then Dan. He then took a seat next to Dan and pulled out the chair on his left for Andy.

             Jaxon bit the inside of his cheek, fingers tapping on the tabletop and stomach turning inside out as his nerves took control again. Both Andy and Dan noticed this and tried to catch his eye with their concerned gazes, though he just shook his head and gave them a tight smile whenever they managed to make eye contact. He heard Andy sigh beside him before a warm hand rested on his thigh, thumb moving in soothing ministrations over his jeans. He moved his arm to rest across the other’s shoulders and turned just enough so that he could place a firm kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.

             “Gross,” a monotonous voice came from behind them.

             He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Ava.

             “Aw, Ava, you do care,” Jaxon teased. Ava rolled her eyes though one corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Uh, anyway, are Connor and Tom coming?”

             “Connor’s working,” Stacy informed.

             “Tom’s not gonna make it either,” Andy announced, fingers moving quickly over his keyboard to reply to a text. “He’s got a date with Kita.”

             “Well if he’s going to ditch us, I suppose it’s okay because it’s a date,” he sighed, though the smile on his face contradicted his tone of voice. “In all seriousness, they deserve it. From what I heard, things in Pine Springs was insane.”

             “Oh yeah! How’d all that go?” Stacy asked. “Were they able to…you know?”

             Andy nodded as he slid his phone into the pocket of his blue hoodie.

             “It went about as well as you can imagine with the Power involved—monsters, life or death situations, lake ghost hellbent on revenge. Turned out that there was a secret cult too. They tried to sacrifice Kita and use her as, like, an anchor or something.”

             “What?” Lucas asked, eyebrows furrowed and face scrunched with worried.

             “Yeah,” Jaxon jumped in. “The lake ghost turned out to be the spirit of Kita’s grandmother.”

             “Damn,” Ava said after a low whistle, slightly raised eyebrows the only indication of shock on her otherwise neutral facial expression. “Think I’d be able to get a firsthand account for my research?”

             He rolled his eyes while the others laughed, and Andy told her she could ask Tom herself. The group lapsed into idle chatter, catching up on the summer weeks spent apart: the girls in Stacy’s summer gymnastics class are learning quickly, Andy is training as hard as ever and progress through the process of transitioning has slowly but steadily been made, Ava went out to Cora’s abandoned home again to poke around and clean it up, Lily and her girlfriend met for coffee on Saturday to brainstorm the story for her next game, Dan is volunteering with the local Boys & Girls club and has become a Big Brother to a boy named Benji, Lucas is making time to relax and destress but also helping Andy organize his training schedule as well as researching for an environmental group on his college’s campus. And Jaxon…

             Jaxon had holed himself up in the woods trying endlessly to help Noah.

             Everyone’s eyes fell on him; it was his turn to share. The question was swimming through their eyes: what about you, where have you been, what have you been doing. Even Andy, who had arguably seen the most of him among their friends, seemed curious. He took a long drink from his glass of Graveyard. His only attempt at stalling the inevitable. Then all that was left was the ice in his cup and the strange sour aftertaste of the drink.

             “I’ve…actually got something I really need to tell you guys,” he said, only just loud enough to be heard. “I…I’m not—I’m not sure how you’ll take it. I don’t want you all to hate me.”

             Andy squeezed his hand. “Jaxon, babe—”

             “No, I—I just need to get it all out at once. I’ve been…visiting…Noah,” his voice tapered off as Andy’s hand grew slack in his grip and silence befell the table. “He’s still in there! And despite everything he did, I…I want to help him. Find some way to, to, to separate him and the Power, or keep him aware of his humanity, his memories at the least. And there’s been progress! He remembers who he is, he mostly knows right from wrong, he understands! But—but above all, he’s…he’s still Noah, he’s still…still our friend.”

             He took a deep breath and kept his eyes down. He focused on the slightly sticky tabletop, the water coalescing around the bottom of his cup, the small scratches worked into the wood. Anything, anything, but his friends’ faces. His ears were assaulted by the silence of his friends and the cacophony of noise coming from the rest of the bar. The weight in his stomach has spread to his limbs, rendering them heavy, thick, and useless.

             Then there’s the sharp scraping of a chair on the floor followed by heavy footsteps moving away from the table. And then the scraping of another chair, another set of footsteps.

His eyes are beginning to burn.

Another chair, more footsteps.

His vision has blurred, tears pooling in his eyes.

Another.

His throat closes.

Andy’s hand is still limp in his hold, slowly, painfully, slipping…slipping…slipping until there’s nothing but air and regret in its place.

But the chair doesn’t move. There isn’t any scraping of wood against flooring, but it’s impossibly worse. Andy hadn’t gotten up and left but he still felt further away than he’d been in a very long time. It’s what pushes him over the edge; tears spill—from the corners of his eyes, fat drops dripping from his lashes. His breathing is shaky. He sniffles, and his nose starts to run.

He must look like a mess.

And then there’s a hand, hesitant and gentle, that rests against his cheek, thumb sweeping warm water away. He leans into it, and next thing he knows is his head is on Andy’s shoulder, a wet spot quickly building. It isn’t until his breathing starts to even out—still shaky, but stable enough that he felt less like he was falling apart.

“Why?” Andy asks. His voice is quiet, carefully controlled. Jaxon doesn’t look up, just sags further into him. “Why didn’t—why didn’t you just tell us? Tell me?”

He breaths out a half-hearted laugh.

“The guy literally forced us into the ruins at knife point to play the game…I mean, there was definitely some manipulation on Jane’s part, but…I think a lot of it came from a place of unrealistic hope that—that he could fix it. He wanted to believe he could fix it, save her, at any cost. Even if…even if it was one of us. And I want to believe that I can save him too. But…”

Jaxon finally looks up, bloodshot eyes meeting watery ones.

“I’m not willing to lose you. Any of you.”

“Fuck, man,” Andy huffed, hand rubbing away the tears in his own eyes. “I love you, Jax, but you are the sweetest dumbass I know.”

Jaxon chuckled, pressing his face back into the crook of Andy’s neck.

The bubble around them that blocked out the rest of the arcade bar broke when someone cleared their throat. They looked up and Jaxon turned in his seat to find Dan looking uncomfortable and shifting in his seat.

“That was cute and all, guys, but should we…talk to the others?” Dan asked.

Andy snorted…which caused Jaxon to giggle…which made its way into Dan’s system until the three of them were laughing.

They’d talk to the others; they would work out the tension. They’d come up with a plan of some kind. Jaxon had to believe that—wanted to believe it—and if anyone was going to do the impossible, it may as well be them.

[and there you have it folks. not sure how much I like the ending but oh well. hope you liked it <3]

[loneangel]

Avengers- the Drama

Pairings: Vision x Wanda, Natasha x Bruce

Warnings: Sexual tension, regular tension, CA-Civil War spoilers and some Age of Ultron spoilers

Author’s note: Sorry this is so long, guys. I really appreaciate you reading it anyway. I've been thinking about making this story-line into a several part series, so let me know if you want to hear more. Thanks!

It had been months since the ‘civil war’ ended. At least, that's what the media was saying. Firstly, It hadn't been a civil war....not really. It was just two superheroes choosing opposing sides. Two friends fighting. Secondly, it hadn't ended a few months after the big showdown. Sure, both sides had realized that mistakes were made. Both sides had made apologies and then kissed and made up. But none of them really expected Avengers tower to be the same. And it wasn't.

Steve was always the first one up. No one knew if he even slept at all, but it was a subject he firmly avoided. He walked into the kitchen, or shuffled really. His grey sweatpants were marked with the Avengers’ sign, as if he was trying to be a constant reminder to the others about what they used to be. As usual, his shirt was a snug-fitting workout shirt. Apparently none of the New York clothing stores sold super-soldier-sized clothes. He yawned widely as he shuffled over to the coffee maker and flicked it on. He knew that Clint preferred to go out for Starbucks, but everyone else wanted to be awake as quickly as possible, so he was sure to make enough for everyone. Just like he did every morning. While the coffee was brewing, he wandered around the rest of the apartment opening the blinds and tip-toeing past his roommates’ rooms. 

In a massive sky-scraper with almost unlimited apartments, it did seem a bit strange that all nine Avengers were crammed into the same apartment. Of course, after a little thought, they had all come to the same conclusion; that Nick Fury was trying to speed up their mending process by forcing them together. And naturally, none of them were so desperate for their own space that they were willing to defy the man’s decision.

Clint was the second one to wake up. As one of the oldest Avengers without superpowers, Clint made it his ultimate goal to spend every waking minute either pampering himself, or working out. Considering the fact that it was around seven o’clock in the morning, pampering himself was definitely the first order of business. He gave Steve a tired ‘good morning’ then saw himself to the door. Steve glanced at the clock, knowing that Clint would be back in exactly seventeen minutes looking wide-awake with a Starbucks cup in his hand and enough lemon bread to go around. 

Next up was Bruce. Suprisingly (or maybe not, to some) he was the second biggest flight risk in Avengers’ tower. While he hadn't been surprised about the ‘'civil war’ he was happy to have missed out so that he didn't have to pick sides. However, when Nick Fury tracked him down and dragged him back to the Tower, he had been less than thrilled. After the fiasco in Wakanda when the Scarlett Witch had unleashed the Hulk, Bruce had decided that he was an everlasting danger to society. Which, of course, led him to believe that isolating himself somewhere far away from civilization was the best plan. Eventually, though, Tony made a good enough argument; something about needing a lab-buddy, aka someone on the same intelligence level. 

Bruce nodded groggily at Steve, pouring himself a cup of coffee and heading straight for the TV. This was his routine every morning and Steve knew that he wouldn't be fully awake for at least another hour or two. He was fine with that, though, since both of them liked the Food Network channel. At least he didn't have to put up with hours of Clint’s monster truck shows. 

Natasha suddenly appeared from their private elevator that led to the basement. The basement was mostly abandoned, so she had set up her own workout space where she retreated when the boys were driving her crazy. Technically speaking, the hidden elevator was only supposed to be used in emergencies when the Avengers had to get out of the building quickly or without being seen. However, she seemed to have taken it as an invitation to hide out someplace where no one else really went. 

Both Steve and Bruce looked up, taking in her sweaty workout clothes. “"Good morning.” “"You've been busy.” They said at the same time. She smirked. “"And you haven't.” She replied, mostly ignoring Steve’s greeting. She wasn't mad at him about choosing Bucky. She wasn't even mad that he had refused to sign the accords. Unfortunately whatever awkward chemistry she had with Bruce just over-rode everyone else. Without waiting for Bruce to think of an appropriate response, she headed to her room to shower. 

Wanda passed her in the hallway and they gave each other warm greetings. Apparently being the only two girls in an apartment full of men had made them closer than expected. Wanda went into the kitchen, smiling slightly when she saw the waiting coffee. She filled a mug and then curled up in one of the armchairs. She frowned at Bruce’s choice of channels, but she quietly sipped her coffee instead of saying anything. Wanda hadn’t changed much since the ‘civil war.’ She was still a bit of an outsider, a bit lost, and her thing with Vision was making everyone (especially Tony) a little uncomfortable. Everyone knew that she would eventually find her place, but they also knew that she would have to find it herself. They all tried to be as open as possible, but she still felt outcast. 

Just then, Vision floated through the TV, instantly putting a smile on Wanda’s face. “"Are you quite well?” He asked her, still floating in front of the television. Steve just smiled and waited patiently, while Bruce leaned haphazardly over the arm of the couch in an effort to keep watching. “"I'm fine, thank you, Vision. How are you?” Wanda asked, standing up and taking his hand to guide him out of Bruce’s way. “"My apologies, Mister Banner. I am quite well, thank you, Wanda.” He said, giving her his best attempt at a smile. Tony walked in just then, sighing and rolling his eyes dramatically. “"Would you two idiots cut it out or kiss already?” He said loudly, inevitably drawing everyone’s attention to himself. Wanda blushed instantly, although she was saved from complete embarrassment by Vision’s confusion. Honestly, the sexual tension between Vision and Wanda was painfully obvious to everyone except the couple themselves. “I'm sorry, I'm not entirely sure what you are saying, Mister Stark.” Vision said, drawing another exasperated sigh from Tony. After a moment, the latter decided to retreat to the kitchen. 

Tony had been.....different since the ‘war.’ He seemed a little angry all the time, his ‘teasing’ remarks just a bit more hurtful, and he never quite looked Steve in the eye. That doesn't mean he hated anyone or really held a grudge against anyone who opposed him at the airport battle. He just tended to bottle up any emotion that wasn't anger or frustration.

The last bedroom door opened and closed, spreading an awkward silence over the entire apartment. The cause of the tension was a six-foot-tall supersoldier with a metal arm and long brown hair. Steve and Wanda were the only ones who managed a smile. Bruce didn't bother to look up, Vision just sort of stared at him, and Tony was making as much noise in the kitchen as possible. Bucky clenched his jaw, tempted to retreat back to his room. Unfortunately for him, his escape plan was shattered when the hallway was blocked by Natasha. “"It's about damn time you woke up.” She said, giving him a devilish grin. He just stared at her blankly until she slipped past him with a shrug. “"Move over.” She told Steve, smacking his arm. He smiled and shifted obligingly. While he didn't appreciate her rough treatment of Bucky, she was also the only one who treated him like he wasn't a complete freak.

The front door opened and a much Perrier Clint walked in with several bags of lemon bread. “"Hey, the Ice-boy is up!” He said, handing Bucky two of the bags. This time Bucky managed a weak smile. Clint also treated Bucky like he was a perecctly average person. Which wasn't always ideal. Clint smacked Bucky’s arm with a grin as he passed him, making the metal armed man flinch slightly. After the lemon bread was passed out, everyone sat in their designated spots and the tv remote was handed over to Natasha. It was pretty much a known fact that Natasha was the only one who could pick a show that everyone liked. “"Oh look. Friends.” She said, smirking at Clint. He snorted, seemingly the only one who understood the irony. “"Friends? Is that a secret passcode?” Vision asked from where he was hovering behind Wanda’s chair. “"It's a tv show. Put it on, Nat.” Clint said, grabbing his Starbucks cup from the coffee table. She smirked and selected it, rolling her eyes as the theme song played. “This should be interesting. How do the world’s greatest heroes response to a soap opera.” Tony quipped, settling in to his recliner. “It’s not a soap opera.” Natasha objected, slinging her leg over Clint’s shoulder where he sat on the floor at her feet.

“We have soap operas on Asgard!” Thor bellowed triumphantly, practically smashing through the frontier door. Everyone jumped, then did their variations of rolling their eyes. “"I'm pretty sure it's not the same thing here, buddy.” Clint said, watching the disappointment cloud Thor’s face. “"Come watch with us.” Wanda said, smiling gently. Thor pulled a chair over and got comfortable, taking the lemon bread that Clint offered. 

“"Well, well, well. The group is finally having some bonding time and I have to break it up.” Nick Fury said, doing his usual grand entrance. “"I've got a mission for you.”