#and assured that yes they will make it and kiss everyday but then promptly had to watch one of his best friends get turned into a mindflayer

[4giorno]

how this first fight in the final battle is already making me feel

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 16

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Brief mentions of war and of loved ones passing away.

Waking up the morning after your heat ended was like a breath of fresh air. You weren’t sweaty anymore, the previous cramping that had made itself at home in your abdomen over the last three days was now non-existent and best of all, getting a knot was the furthest thing from your mind. 

When you opened your eyes, it just so happened to be at the exact same time that Yoongi was walking back into his bedroom. You smiled sleepily as you watched him move over to the dresser to rummage through it, no shirt covering his firm chest and jogging pants slung low enough on his hips that you could see the band of his boxers as well.

Ok, so maybe a knot wasn’t the furthest thing from your mind after all. 

“Hey, good morning,” Yoongi smiled once he had turned around and saw you looking at him. He then walked over to the bed, taking a set on the edge closest to you. 

“Good morning,” you replied, moaning softly when he bent down and gave you a gentle kiss. 

“How are you feeling?” He wondered and you paused in order to take quick stock of your body.

“Ok,” you began slowly. “The cramps are gone but my head hurts a little and I’m pretty sure that I’m super sore.”

“I can get you something for the headache and for the soreness, do you want to take a bath?” He offered. 

“Oh, that sounds amazing,” you sighed dreamily.

“Good thing that I already filled the bathtub then, huh?” he smirked.

“How’d you know?”

“Baby, I knotted you at least 11 or 12 times over the last three days,” he told you. “I know you’re Prime and everything but I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t sore.”

“Shut up and carry me to the bathroom already,” you demanded, making Yoongi chuckle.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled. After picking you from the bed and carrying you bridal style into the en suite, Yoongi set you down on the ground so that you could work on taking your clothes off while he checked the temperature of the water.

“You hungry?” He asked as he turned to look at you over your shoulder, his breath hitching in his throat a little when he saw that you were already naked. 

“Starving,” you nodded, grabbing onto his outstretched hand and gripping onto it as you stepped into the tub. The hot water enveloped you as you sat down and you instantly sighed in relief. 

“Feels good?” He wondered and you immediately nodded.

“Amazing. Get in with me?” You asked.

“Sure,” he nodded, quickly taking off his own jogging pants and boxers before climbing into the tub as well, settling down behind you and allowing you to scoot back so that your back was pressed up against his chest. 

“Mm, thank you,” you said as you sunk down further into the water.

“It’s no problem baby, you don’t have to thank me,” he replied. “I wanted to do it.”

“I know but still,” you huffed. “I didn’t say or do anything weird during my heat, did I?”

“Your memory still hazy?”

“A little,” you admitted.

“Well, you didn’t really do anything out of the ordinary,” he began. “Lots of begging, lots of you demanding that I knot you right then and there. I think you even cried once.”

“Ok, that’s all normal,” you shrugged.

“You also, uh,” he started, not knowing if he should really bring it up or not because he was sure that you didn’t remember and he didn’t want to embarrass you.

“I what?” You questioned as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You asked me to bite you,” he revealed and even though he couldn’t see you, your eyes widened. 

“I didn’t,” you groaned loudly.

“You did,” Yoongi confirmed. “I knew that it was just the heat talking though, so I told you no.”

“Thanks for not actually doing it,” you muttered softly. 

“Hey, I’d never forcefully bite you or anyone else for that matter without express consent,” he assured you. “I know what mating means to you and I’d never take that away.”

“I know,” you sighed. “Kind of speaking of that, I have a question.”

“What?”

“Did you mean what you said last night?” You asked. 

“If you’re referring to when you told me that you loved me and I replied that I loved you too, then yes,” he nodded. “I meant what I said. Did you?”

“I did,” you responded as you carefully turned over, so that your chest was pressed against his. “I know that we’ve only officially been dating for like a month and didn’t really like each other at first, but I do. Love you, I mean. I just don’t want you to think that it was the heat talking, like with the whole bite thing.”

“You were pretty lucid last night so I figured that you were being honest,” he chuckled. “And the length of time doesn’t matter to me. All I know is that you make me feel a way that no one else ever has.”

“Ditto,” you giggled happily, pressing your hand against his chest in order to crane your neck up and kiss him firmly. His hands automatically came down and gripped your hips, pulling you closer to him so that you were able to feel his semi-hard cock against your lower stomach.

“Say it again,” Yoongi grumbled against your lips and you pulled away in order to look into his eyes.

“I love you,” you told him seriously. 

“I love you too,” he smiled and as he kissed you again, you couldn’t help to to think that you wouldn’t mind waking up to that smile everyday.

.......................................

After spending some extra time in the tub together, you both finally got out, got dressed in more leisure clothes and moved into the kitchen where the two of you worked on making breakfast together. 

Just as the two of you moved to sit down at the small table once breakfast was finished, there was a loud knock on Yoongi’s door. 

“Who the hell is that?” He mumbled, not really liking the prospect of anyone else coming around you with their scent so soon after your heat was over.

“It’s Tae,” you announced and Yoongi looked at you in surprise. “He’s my brother, I could recognize his scent anywhere.”

“Even through the door?” He wondered with a chuckle as he walked over to the door. 

“I’m Prime asshole,” you reminded him and he just shook his head as he pulled the door open.

“Hi hyung,” Taehyung greeted him, his nose promptly scrunching up afterwards when the scents from inside of the house floated out. “What the fuck? Did you drown my sister in cum hyung, or what?”

“You’re disgusting,” you spat as you came to stand next to Yoongi. 

“I definitely did not miss your bravado,” Yoongi huffed.

“Oh please, I’m your best friend hyung,” Taehyung smiled brightly. “You know you love me.”

“Tae, why are you here?” You wondered.

“Oh! Joon hyung called a meeting about the rising tensions between packs,” he said.

“Pack wide?” You asked.

“Elders and high status only,” he told you, which made you eyes widen because that meant that it was serious. “So him, me, you, Hobi hyung, Jungkookie, a few others and some of the elders.”

“No Hyo?”

“Since she’s literally due any day now, Joon hyung doesn’t want to worry her,” Taehyung explained. 

“And just what reaction does he think she’s going to have when she finds out that he called a meeting with only the elders and high status members of the pack?” You demanded to know, only receiving a shrug from Taehyung. 

“Look, if you want to curse him out about that later, that’s between you two,” Taehyung said. “I just came to see if you’d be able to even come to the meeting.”

“My heat only ended just last night,” you revealed. “If I walked into the Head Hall right now, I’d probably send every unmated Alpha into an early rut.”

“I know,” Taehyung sighed before looking over at Yoongi. “Maybe hyung can go for you?”

“Oh, would you?” You asked Yoongi as you turned to look at him as well. 

“Should I?” Yoongi questioned. “If it’s only between trusted members of the pack, then I don’t know if I’d be welcomed. Plus, I’m not even high status within the pack, at least I don’t think.”

“You’re dating Y/N-ah now, your status has definitely risen,” Taehyung smiled.

“Everyone knows that we’re together and besides, you’re just going in my place since I can’t so it should be fine,” you told him. 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi sighed.

“Please baby?” You whispered as you moved closer to him, wrapping your arm around his. “I would really appreciate it and I’ll make it worth your while tonight.”

“Fine,” he relented, smiling in spite of himself when you leaned over and kissed his cheek. “When’s the meeting?”

“In about an hour,” Taehyung replied.

“Well, I’ll have to eat and get dressed in actual clothes so why don’t you join us for breakfast?” Yoongi offered, making Taehyung grin. 

“Thanks hyung,” he said excitedly. You turned around to walk back into the kitchen while Yoongi stepped aside and allowed Taehyung to walk in as well, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh and by the way, you’re so whipped for my sister hyung,” Taehyung smirked.

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbled, stalking away from him and into the kitchen. 

.......................................

Once they finished breakfast, Yoongi followed Taehyung to the Head Hall, where they were quickly intercepted by Jungkook. 

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted them, giving Taehyung a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to look at Yoongi. “What are you doing here hyung?” 

“I’m here in Y/N-ah’s place,” he explained.

“Uh, I don’t know if Namjoon hyung is gonna let that slide,” Jungkook grimaced.

“Why not?” Taehyung wondered.

“He’s frazzled Tae,” Jungkook said. “And it’s freaking me out because as long as Namjoon hyung has been Pack Alpha, I’ve never seen him being anything but cool, calm, and collected.”

“Oh shit,” Taehyung sighed. “Has Hobi hyung said anything?”

“Namjoon hyung put him under a gag order so he couldn’t,” Jungkook replied. “This might be some serious shit.”

“Well, maybe we should actually go in there and find out instead of working ourselves up out here,” Yoongi interjected. “And I don’t mind leaving if Namjoon wants me to.”

“Hyung’s right,” Taehyung nodded, reaching out and wrapping his arm around Jungkook’s. “Let’s go.” Yoongi followed behind them as they all stepped into the large assembly room, which was almost shaped like a small amphitheater with a stage that was shaped like a half crescent in the front and rows of chairs surrounding the outside.

Taehyung led them down one of the aisles towards the front, sitting down in the very first row and pulling Jungkook down to sit next to him. Yoongi sat on the other side of Taehyung, waiting patiently as other members of the pack began to file inside as well. 

After about 5 minutes, Namjoon finally walked into the room with Hobi following close behind. 

“Hyung!” Taehyung called out, waving his arm and Namjoon walked down to the front where the three of them were sitting. 

“Hey Tae, Kook-ah,” Namjoon nodded at them before turning to look at Yoongi. “What are you doing here Yoongi?”

“Y/N couldn’t make it because her heat just ended last night so she asked me to come in her place,” Yoongi explained. 

“Did she?” Namjoon sighed heavily.

“I can always leave,” Yoongi offered. “From what Taehyung said, this seems to be very serious and I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, least of all you.”

“No, you’re fine,” Namjoon assured him. “Your status has changed anyways with you dating my sister so that's not an issue. It’s just...other than you reporting back to Y/N-ah, I trust that you know that anything that’s said in this room stays in this room until I say otherwise?”

“Of course,” Yoongi nodded. 

“Alright,” Namjoon said before turning and walking away, climbing the steps to the small stage. He waited until Hobi was standing next to him and until the room had quieted down before he began to speak.

“I’m sorry to pull you all out of your warm houses for this meeting, and with such short notice at that,” Namjoon began. “But we have an issue that has been brewing for some time and I feel that now is the appropriate time for me to let you all know.”

“It’s about the tensions between packs, right?” An elder woman, Boa, spoke up and Namjoon sighed before nodding.

“That’s just the thing, actually,” he said. “Those tensions that everyone knows about are escalating, and escalating quick.”

“Escalating in what way?” An elder man named Jinki wondered, and Namjoon turned to look at Hobi.

“Hobi,” he whispered, motioning for him to step forward and Hobi did so before speaking up. 

“I’ve caught four lurkers on the edge of the pack’s territory over the last three days,” Hobi revealed and there was the immediate buzz of chatter that filled the room. Namjoon then held his hand up, which caused the chatter to die back down. 

“How do you know that that has anything to do with the tensions between the packs?” Jiyoon, another elder woman questioned.

“That’s the thing, we weren’t sure at first,” Hobi started. “These lurkers had no type of pack marker, no similar pack scent, and they all swore that they didn’t know each other.”

“But to be on the safe side, I decided to do some digging and contact our brother packs, the Im pack and Choi pack, in Busan and Daegu,” Namjoon added. “Turns out, they both have had a suspicious increase of lurkers on their properties as well.”

“Well, who do you think it is?” Jungkook wondered. 

“I think it’s the work of Seo-hyun,” Namjoon confessed and the gasp that radiated through the room at that name was loud enough to send shivers down Yoongi’s spine.

“Fuck,” Taehyung whispered.

“That piece of shit is still causing trouble!” Yoongi heard a familiar voice shout and when he turned to his right, he saw Kibum standing up out of his chair. 

“Let me finish,” Namjoon called out and the room settled back down. “Now, we have no official confirmation yet but between the lurkers on our properties as well as the properties of our allies and the fact that Seo-hyun’s pack has been the main pack resisting any and all attempts of easing tensions, I’d be highly surprised if this wasn’t all his doing.”

“Why don’t we try sending some representatives over to Seo-hyun’s territory to try and make peace ourselves then?” A younger Alpha named Baekhyun suggested.

“You guys know his history,” Namjoon stated firmly. “Whoever I’d send, he’d smell their pack scent and kill them right then and there just to spite me and I won’t gamble with anyone’s life other than my own.”

“So where do we go from here then?” Boa demanded to know.

“The best thing we can do for right now is to be on guard,” Namjoon said. “It is very possible that he’ll try to come in and stage a coup so we need to be ready just in case. Also, if any of you see this man,” he paused to hold up a photo that Hobi handed him, and Yoongi felt all of the blood drain from his face. “Then you come get me, Hobi, or even Jungkook immediately. Do not engage, because this man will not hesitate to kill you.”

“There will also be an increased amount of people doing patrol duty so if you do it, please see me after this meeting for the new schedule,” Hobi added. 

“And remember, this stays in this room until I can gather more concrete information,” Namjoon reminded everyone. “Alright, meeting adjourned.”

The chatter immediately started up again and Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook stood up when Namjoon and Hobi stepped down off of the stage to walk over to them.

“You couldn’t have given me a trigger warning before showing that picture hyung?” Taehyung mumbled and it wasn’t until then that Yoongi noticed how pale Taehyung’s face had become. 

“I’m sorry Tae-ah, but I had to do it,” Namjoon apologized.

“Want me to take you home?” Jungkook asked Taehyung as he wrapped his arm around him and Taehyung nodded numbly before allowing Jungkook to lead him out of the room. Once they were out of ear shot, Yoongi turned to look at Namjoon and Hobi again. 

“Why’d he react like that?” Yoongi wondered.

“Seo-hyun is the man that killed our parents,” Namjoon revealed. 

“And that tried to kill my mother,” Hobi added angrily and Yoongi knew that in that moment, he probably looked as pale as Taehyung had before Jungkook led him away. 

.......................................

After staying behind to talk with Namjoon and Hobi for a while longer and receiving the new schedule for patrol duty, Yoongi made his way back to his cabin alone. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, it was dead silent and Yoongi almost thought you had left until he saw your jacket and shoes still in their places by the front door. 

Once he pulled off his own jacket and shoes, he walked down the hallway to his bedroom, pushing open the door and glancing inside. You were laid out in the bed, tangled up in the blankets that Yoongi had bought for you as you slept soundly. Smiling to himself, Yoongi stepped inside and paced over to the bed, sitting down on the edge next to you.

“Y/N-ah?” He whispered, reaching out and setting his hand on your lower back. “Baby?”

“Yoongi?” You murmured sleepily as you opened your eyes, yawning loudly afterwards.

“Hey,” he replied. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I washed your bedding and the blankets and I just couldn’t resist them when they were so warm straight out of the dryer.”

“I get it,” he chuckled. 

“Get in with me?” You requested and Yoongi nodded, waiting for you to scoot over before he laid himself down, laughing when you immediately snuggled into his side and wrapped your arms around him. 

“You still feeling alright?” Yoongi checked. “Not too sore?”

“No, the bath earlier helped a lot,” you told him. “Tell me what happened at the meeting.”

“Oh, well Namjoon was telling us that Hobi caught multiple lurkers on the pack’s territory while you were going through your heat,” he started.  

“Seriously?” You gasped. “Do they know who they are?”

“They aren’t sure but Namjoon did some digging and he said that he thinks it’s Seo-hyun,” he said and he didn’t miss the way that your breath hitched when you heard that name. “Namjoon told me who he is and I’m sorry Y/N-ah.”

“No, no, it’s ok,” you sighed. “I just didn’t expect that. So what did Namjoon say that he plans on doing?”

“He’s increasing the amount of people on patrol duty at any time and basically just told us to be looking out just in case,” he finished. 

“God, I really hope that it doesn’t escalate into another war,” you groaned. “I don’t know if I’d be able to go through that again.”

“Well if it comes to that, I’ll fight for you,” Yoongi told you and you just looked up at him, smiling softly. 

“Aren’t I lucky?” You giggled as you pushed yourself up a little, giving him a gentle kiss. When you pulled away and snuggled into him again, pressing your nose to his scent gland, Yoongi couldn’t help but to try and figure out how in the hell he was going to tell you the truth. 

.......................................

Tag List: @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere @seolarsyj @littlrmills14-blog @preciouschimine @kt-rny @copenhagenspirit

[ezekielbhandarivalleros]

Beach Day

Paring: Jake Tweneboah x Jackie Varma

Summary: Summertime fun with Jake and Jackie

Taglist: @princess-geek @schnitzelbutterfingers @yourresidentplayer @aussieez @choicesficwriterscreations @secretaryunpaid

Jake was awakened by something soft hitting him in the head. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunshine beating its way into the room to confirm the source of the blow to his head amused but not surprised to discover it was her. Jackie was lying on top of him, elbows propped up on the bed, chin resting on her hands, grinning at him with that smile that melted his heart, the pillow she had used to hit him with lay on her side of the bed where the blankets were wrinkled and tangled around her.

"Morning," he greeted her with a kiss.

"Morning," she said kissing him back but rather quickly to his surprise "you know what today is right?"

She was looking at him with an eager look, waiting for an answer.

"No," he replied curiously and she grinned bigger.

"It's beach day!" she declared loudly, squirming excitedly under the covers.

And then he remembered. For days after waking up from her coma, once she had regained some physical strength and had been clarified on what she had missed while in the hospital, she was anxious to get back to her normal life. One of those senses of normalcy was taking trips and the first thing she had begged him for was a trip to the beach.

"I want to go to San Diego with you," she asked sweetly "I want to see where you work and your house and the beach, please can we go?"

Unable to resist the adorable pout Jackie gave him, and once he had cleared it with her doctors after her release from the hospital, he decided on a day that would be good for the both of them between her therapy sessions to go to San Diego.

After a sabbatical from his work there, he returned to California with her in tow, the both of them settling back into a normal routine, with Jackie as well, in his condo. It had been over a week now and she had begged him everyday to take her to the beach near the condo complex since she couldn't drive herself just yet and it was too far to walk.

Now, with her eager smile and excited squirming, he knew she couldn't wait any longer to see the ocean and spend some time in the sun.

"Oh that's today?" he teased her which earned him another pillow to his face.

"Yes," she said "you promised, now hurry up, let's go before all the good spots are taken."

She untangled herself from all the covers, pulling on his arm to get him to move and follow her as she got ready, happily chanting 'beach day" over and over. He grumbled and made a point to yawn and stretch over exaggeratedly in displeasure at having to get up so early but he knew she had been looking forward to this for weeks and he loved her to pieces so getting up early to go to the beach with her was like a dream come true.

He went downstairs to make them breakfast while she packed up a large beach bag with towels and sunscreen and everything they would need for today. As he was setting out plates for them to eat, he thought about the trip today and felt a slight concern that a lengthy duration at a crowded beach in the hot sun might be too much for her post coma. But he had to remind himself that she was Jackie Varma, a force to be reckoned with and his concern faded away.

After breakfast, which she practically inhaled just to get them out the door faster, they loaded up his truck with the beach bags, folding chairs, a few snacks and some bottled water. When he got in the car she was already in the passenger seat, radio playing, window rolled down and sunglasses on staring at him with a goofy grin.

"Ready?" he asked her and she nodded, squirming to settle back in her seat while he drove.

San Diego was her new favorite place, she thought as she leaned back in her seat, the breeze whipping her hair around as they drove a few miles down to the ocean front she had been anxious to see for weeks. They passed palm trees, lavish homes and lots of people being out in the fresh air and warm sun. She tried to find a cloud in the sky but there wasn't a single one. That made her smile more.

Jake had to pay extra attention to the road as he drove because he found himself stealing glances at her. She was stretching to see ahead of the traffic for their destination, leaning back when she determined it was still not in view, humming along to the radio and being ridiculously adorable.

When he slowed the car to a stop inside a large parking lot full of other cars and beachgoers, she leapt out and raced around to the trunk to start retrieving their supplies.

"Easy," he warned her when he noticed her trying to carry the two folding chairs, beach bag and cooler all at the same time.

"I can do it," she reminded him trying to show she was still the same after her coma.

"I know," he said "but let me help."

She reluctantly handed him the folding chairs but continued to drag the rest of the supplies through the hot asphalt parking lot to the sandy entranceway a few feet ahead.

"Let's set up there," she declared boldly pointing at a spot "no there"

Jackie switched it up at least six times before finally shuffling through the sand to a spot no one had occupied yet and promptly dropping all the supplies down to claim their territory.

"Here, this is perfect," she announced beginning to rummage through her beach bag while he set up the chairs and umbrella that came with it for shade against the hot sun beating down on them.

Once everything was set up, she bounced over to him and asked "What should we do first?"

"Relax," he suggested leaning back in one of the chairs while she continued to stand, arms crossed in disapproval.

"That's boring," she complained "we should go swimming and look for seashells and build a sandcastle and surf and-

She was cut off by him grabbing her wrist and pulling her down to sit in his lap. She giggled as they both almost fell out of the chair.

"We can do all that stuff," he said "I promise, we have all day, lets not rush it."

"Okay," she finally agreed after he kissed her in the hopes of settling her down.

He knew her so well, she thought as she leaned back in his arms to watch the waves roll in.

As he inticipated, she couldn't sit still for long. She dragged him out of the chair and to the waters edge, dropping to her knees in the sand and starting to dig through it for seashells. He didn't want to discourage her, but after living here for a few months, he know most shells were likely going to be broken due to the strength of the wave and all the tourists walking the beach everyday. Nevertheless, he dropped to his knees in the sand beside her to help her search.

After a good twenty minutes of scraping at the sand, they still had not found anything yet.

"Maybe next time sweetheart," he tried to assure her but she still looked disappointed.

They were both covered in sand so they stood in the ankle deep water, letting the waves wash over them. One particularly strong wave hit her and almost knocked her over.

"Careful," he warned, fearful of her tumbling into the ocean and the consequences somehow leading to another coma.

He reached out to hold her hand and guide her away from any more oncoming waves but when he grabbed a hold of her, she pulled him further into the waves until they had both fallen into the water. He thought it was an accident, until he heard her laughing hysterically at their mishap.

"Gotcha," she teased splashing water at him, still laughing.

That laugh turned into a scream when he leapt up and chased after her, catching her quickly and scooping her up in his arms.

"Gotcha," he teased back before promptly tossing her into the next wave.

She screamed again but laughed at their game. She raced back to him and pushed him into the water to make him chase her again. Back and forth they went, tossing each other into the water. She loved the thrill of him chasing her, then the moment when he caught her, lifting her up in his arms making her stomach tingle with anticipation before he swayed with her over the water momentarily then spilled her into the waves.

After the fourth time they did this, she stood on the shore line catching her breath and he was worried that they had overdone it.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, sweeping her tangled wet hair out of her face.

"Fine," she said breathlessly.

"We can take a break if you want," he said.

"Oh and let you win?" she said smugly "no way, it's tied, we have to break it."

He had no idea she had been keeping track of how many times they had tossed each other in the water but he loved her spirit so he said "Game on."

They raced back to the waters edge, waiting for more waves. She stood on her toes searching the deeper water for any sign of one. When one finally bubbled up and started moving closer she begged "Chase me" and raced along the shoreline.

She was so fast and so full of energy it was like she never fell into that coma, he thought as he did what she asked and raced after her. She had every intention of winning, she thought, as she lured him out into the water when a less violent looking wave came along. She had to slow down to avoid a group of kids and it cost her. He caught up to her, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her back to him.

"No," she protested loudly, trying to squirm out of his hold but could feel her feet sinking into the wet sand instead.

In one motion he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the waters edge.

"What to do with you?" he teased swaying treacherously over the water with her to build the suspense.

She kept fighting to escape his hold but he wasn't letting her go that easily. As the next wave approached, he tossed her right into it, hearing her shriek in surprise but laugh when he came to rescue her seconds later.

After their jaunt through the ocean, they raced back to their chairs and towels to dry off.

"I'm hungry," she announced to him.

"Me too," he said looking around at the little shops and cafes behind them on the boardwalk "what should we get?"

"Pizza!" she said firmly.

He agreed and went to fetch them some food. On his way back from the little café with their pizza, he spotted a gift shop and grinned when one particular item caught his eye. When he returned with their food, she ate it just as fast she had her breakfast. He knew her doctors had put on her a careful diet after her coma to get her body used to food again so spoiling her with a few slices of pizza didn't bother him. When she finished eating, he presented her with another bag and a grin.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just open it," he encouraged her.

She tore into the package like a kid on Christmas and pulled out two plastic buckets and two plastic shovels with little holes in them.

"I know they are for kids," Jake explained "but I figured we could use them to find some seashells, might make it easier."

Jackie was staring at him as if he had presented her with a million dollars. She felt tears of gratitude sting at her eyes and she bit her lip to make them stop.

"I love it-I love you, thank you" she gushed launching herself at him with a hug.

"I love you too," he said smiling at how the simplest gestures seemed to make her the happiest.

"Come on," she insisted handing him a bucket and a shovel "lets go look now."

She didn't wait for him as she raced back to the waters edge, sank down into the sand and began digging away furiously.

Despite being equipped with tools, every shell she found was broken just like he anticipated but didn't have the heart to tell her. But she refused to stop searching. She had dug several holes in the sand in a small area around them, scrapping as far as her arm could reach for any in tact shells that might be hidden. The sun had started to set when she yelped suddenly, startling him but when he glanced up, she was grinning, and holding up two perfectly whole seashells.

"Look Jackie ," she gushed excitedly presenting him with the shells as if they were gold.

"Nice," he said impressed with her resilience at searching in the hot sun.

She brushed off the sand that coated the shells delicately with her fingers so as not to break them before carefully setting the pair into her bucket for safekeeping. She wiped her hands of loose sand then rubbed her eyes. He noticed her do that whenever she started to get tired at home or at the hospital after the coma and he took that as a cue to start packing up their stuff and head home.

In the car, she was less energetic, no longer humming along with the radio but instead staying silent and examining the tiny shells with care. Back at his condo, she dumped all their supplies in the hallway and shuffled over to the sink to start cleaning the shells better. She kept glancing at her cell phone that was on the counter and provided instructions on how to properly clean them. She set them in a plastic cup with water to soak for a little, resting her chin on her hands on the counter watching the shells sink to the bottom of the cup slowly.

"I'll unpack," he offered, kissing the top of her head while she watched the shells.

"I need a shower," she declared abandoning the shells to do that in the hopes that they would be clean by the time she was done.

After a shower and a change of clothes, she immersed herself into the world of seashells, using her laptop to research different types and how to search for them properly. She sat cross legged on the couch in the living room while she worked, chewing on her thumb while reading article after article trying to retain as much knowledge as possible until her eyes grew heavy from staring at the screen too long and she had to stop. She retrieved the now clean and dry shells from the kitchen and took them into the master bedroom where Jake was already in bed watching T.V.

She crawled into the bed and under the covers exhausted, lying on top of him like she had done this morning, holding up the shells for him to see and saying "Aren't they pretty?"

"They're beautiful," he praised her, hugging her tight.

She smiled and placed the shells gently on the nightstand for safekeeping, settling back in his arms, her head resting on his chest, feeling sleepy but still wanting to keep talking.

"I love this place," she mumbled tiredly to him "I love the beach and seashells and you and our special beach day, thank you for taking me."

"You're welcome sweetheart," he said struck once again by how the simplest gestures seemed to mean so much to her.

As she dozed peacefully in his arms, he couldn't help but think of all she had been through and all she was doing right now to live her life to the fullest. Every second with her was a gift, her survival a miracle and he wasn't going to waste any chance to spoil her with love and beach days.

[1-800-get-sherlocked]

this was supposed to be an incorrect quote but it spiraled out of control

note: im american idk if yall brits have cuties (kidding im sure ur all cuties ok im sorry i couldnt resist) but i really had to alright pls be-ryllium ar-gon with me yes im sorry we are revisiting chem lads dont worry i will provide you translations/i will make it obvious also theres switching povs & im telling you ahead of time: the puns are very, very bad 

also i wrote this at like late 5am un-beta-ed so please forgive me for any mistakes, i have 0.5 braincells left and i used up 0.279 for academic papers

kind of a crackfic btw 

ok without further ado bc i ramble too much, other notes at the end: 

*on Valentine’s Day*

John woke up to the sound of clinking and the faint sound of rustling of papers, the other side of the bed empty and cold. Ah, probably on that experiment again with those oranges he said were also a good pet name for me. What was it again? Right, cuties. A small smile appeared on John’s unshaven face. His hubby was too endearing for his own good sometimes. 

In the kitchen, Sherlock paced back and forth, eyeing his failed experiment with disdain. Which he was totally worrying more about rather than whether his plan would work. Would John like these? Maybe he should have just gone with George’s advice and went to get some takeout Angelo’s like they often did during quarantine, but Sherlock wanted to make this special. He nervously adjusted his shirt collar, looking down to check that he was indeed wearing the purple shirt John loved so much. Apparently it was called the purple shirt of sex or something? The detective honestly had no idea how or why but that wasn’t important, what was important was John. John. He still couldn’t believe the brilliant, patient, and gorgeous army-doctor was....his husband. After the drunk night they had that one day, things got a bit heated and...well, you could say they definitely had a good time and cleared up their feelings for each other, much to Donovan’s chagrin who lost Scotland Yard’s bet by just a week. Mrs. Hudson was the winner, obviously. 

Thank god for Mrs. Hudson’s and Gavin; he didn’t know what he would do without both of them giving him advice, though the DI wasn’t always pleased to be summoned in the middle of a case to help Sherlock out. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Sherlock scanned his surroundings to make sure everything was in place. Ah, he could now hear John about to step into the aisle, right on time. Quickly, Sherlock went back to pretending he was working on his experiment. 

Just a few moments later, John padded into the kitchen, clean shaven, and as expected, looked at Sherlock pointedly. Of course, the detective was used to this and promptly ignored it, waiting for John to say something. 

“Sherlock,” John said, tilting his head to the side a bit, “What is going on here? Why are there little sticky notes all over the place?” 

Sherlock simply shrugged. “Why don’t you go take a look for yourself, John? I’m sure you would be able to find out that way.” 

Sighing, John went back into the living room and perused the various bright colored sticky notes. Sherlock’s scratchy handwriting was on all of them, along with small drawings on some. Stepping closer, John took the first one off the wall above the couch and read the note out loud: 

“Jawn, you’re small and angy, just like the bunch of Copper (Cu) Tellurium (Te) Iodine (I) Einstieinium (Es) we got the other day. Will you be my clemenvalentine?” Belatedly, John noticed a small orange drawn next to it, with a small >:[ face. Sherlock still wasn’t going to let him ever live it down, huh? 

Shaking his head with the faintest hint of a smile crossing John’s expression, he moved on to the next one. 

“John, the first time we met and dined at Angelo’s, I said girlfriends weren’t really my area. What I really wanted to say was that I was Gallium (Ga) Yttrium (Y), John. Obviously, I am married to my work and love of my life now, but would you still be my Valentine again, for the 11th time?” This one was written in rainbow ink, probably one of those pens Rosie got for Sherlock, insisting that he would have some use for them someday. Which he did, evidently.

As John picked up more and more notes strewn around the room, and read more and more puns, some of his favorites being, “Forget Hydrogen–you’re my number one element” and “Why don’t we go back to the bedroom and form a covalent bond ;) Or we could do it on the table, periodically” he didn’t know whether he should have laughed or cried. Maybe both. Some were so bad they were hilarious but the fact that they were that bad just made it more funny and endearing. Oh Sherlock, where would I bee without you? who would I be without you?

Oh god, John realized with horror. Sherlock’s terrible puns were rubbing off him and invading his thoughts. Typical of him, that bloody cute charismatic arse.  

Finally, John reached the last one. 

“John, I know I’m not very good with expressing my affection for you, but I want you to know, especially today, that Iodine (I) Lutetium (Lu) Vanadium (V) Uranium (U). You are my best friend, my lover, my husband, and my lifelong partner. You’ll always be my doctor and blogger at heart.” On the side, a small smiley face was drawn. 

The entire time, John knew Sherlock’s eyes were on him, even though he pretended to be busy with his experiment. The doctor knew those telltale signs: tense shoulders coupled with a nervous biting of his lip. Watching closely, trying to gauge his reaction after reading all of them.  

“Sherlock, were you trying to test my chemistry knowledge again? You know it’s been awhile since I’ve studied all this, right?” 

Of course, Sherlock knew this. Sherlock always knew but was somehow still an oblivious idiot. My oblivious idiot, John thought affectionately. 

“Well yes but I-” a beat. Sherlock took a deep breath. “Well, it’s always you making plans for Valentine’s, and I thought, maybe I should take charge this time, with something other than Angelo’s–don’t worry, I’ve already ordered takeout for dinner, I know you love their food, John, so I still did it. But I wanted to do more for you this time. Mrs. Hudson and Rosie agreed it would help me express myself better, so I tried it out. Um-” Sherlock stopped mid sentence as John walked up to him, and put a finger over those pouty lips. 

“Sherlock, you amazing, adorable, gorgeous man, you’re so cute, you know that? And I did in fact notice your shirt–we will be making use of that later, obviously.” The detective gulped visibly. “But for the record, I want you to know that I know how much you love me, and you know how much I love you, so don’t ever feel bad about having trouble expressing it verbally; I can always tell through the small thoughtful gestures you do for me and the looks you throw my way when you think I can’t see. What you did for me today was very sweet, and it made my day–I will always cherish this memory on this Valentine’s, but I can assure you my love for you will never change no matter what, whether or not you do gestures like this for me. My love is of the same magnitude as yours to mine, and it never stops growing everyday”

Sherlock beamed, that charming crooked grin of his slowly spreading across his face, and John pulled him down for a kiss, both laughing against each other’s lips lightly as their mouths clumsily crashed together. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[the-omni-princess]

Blood Bound [Chapter Five]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, mentions of death, major character death, talks of death, talks of a historical event with a twist

A/N: So, this was supposed to be for Halloween so Happy Halloween! Lol, this series was supposed to be done by Halloween and I think I’m like halfway through. I had two lab reports and a test today and its two am Im ded

Enjoy!!!

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[Series Masterlist]  [My Masterlist] [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

-

----

Sleep in Bucky’s arms was virtually dreamless, which after the day you had had, was a sweet relief. Once you woke up, you could only remember a fraction of your remaining dream. A peaceful scene, you and Bucky laying in a field of flowers, smiling, talking about nothing in particular. It seemed awfully familiar. Maybe you were really- no. That simply was impossible. There was no way you were reincarnated. But why did everything feel so familiar? Like home?

The sun filtered in through your balcony, the curtains were slightly open. Cool arms were wrapped around you protectively, cool breath fanning against your neck. You bit back a giggle, hearing Bucky snore behind you. His hand shifted slightly lower, resting against your abdomen, sending a wave of flashes before your eyes. Hands. Warm, big, pulling, gentle, soft. Light kisses below your ear. Whispers of love. A murmur of “Sweetling.” Contentment. Sated.

As you gasped softly, the memory fled, slipping through your fingers like sand. Bucky groaned softly behind you, “Are you alright?” Concern laced in his sleep heavy voice.

“It was nothing, I think it was a flash of a memory…” you indulged. Okay, maybe this whole reincarnation theory would explain all of this memory flashes, but it seemed ridiculous.  “Guess, for the time being, we both have memory issues,” you teased. Okay so maybe you were using humor as a coping mechanism but finding out you had a vampire soulmate was a little overwhelming.

You could feel him smiling into your neck as he looked at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling. “So, I gather you like stars?”

Your pulse beat just inches from his fangs, and yet you felt nothing but absolute trust in the one creature you weren’t supposed to trust. It was alarming how you unequivocally trusted this man. “I love them. The stars guide our everyday lives without even realizing it.”

“Spoken like a true witch,” he sighed softly, unable to stop smiling. “Creeks… you also used to like creeks and springs in the woods,” he murmured. “Right before a storm as the skies darken and the lights leave the forest floor.”

“Mountains,” you mumbled absentmindedly. “You liked the snowy mountains because as spring thawed the ice, it brought me more streams.” You let your eyes close, leaning against his touch. It felt gratifying to remember something. Okay, fine. Maybe you really were Theo. But how?

Bucky tensed behind you, interrupting your existential crisis thoughts, soft growling sounding from the back of his throat, sending shivers down your spine. “Someone’s here.” His grip tightened on you, protective.

“Probably the Coven, Bucky it’s okay, as long as Carol isn’t the one to find us like this.” You turned in his arms, a little surprised to see crimson red eyes staring towards your door. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling a small beat below your fingertips. You quickly moved your hand, that must have been your imagination. Vampires didn’t have heartbeats.

He sat up, tensed, hair standing up on the back of his neck. “It’s not your Coven Sisters. I know their scents, this is different. It smells like witch, and wolf.”

Stretching, you stood, “I think I know who it is, calm down,” you sighed softly. “But he can probably smell you, so you need to hide.” You glanced at the sun floating in through your blinds. “Can you stay quiet up here?”

He smirked, which sent your heart for a ride. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse,” he assured with a smile that promised mischief.

“Cool, because when I get back, you and I are having a serious conversation about this whole memory thing,” you tossed the blanket from last night into your hamper, dirt and dry leaves still sticking to it from your run in the woods. “Maybe you can help me look through the books and find that spell you think you performed on your Theo. Figure out if I’m her, or just remember things she knew.”

“Anything you wish, Sweetling,” you didn’t need to turn around to know he was grinning, joyful at a chance to explore this, so you just rolled your eyes affectionately, pulling on a jacket to hide the fact you were wearing the same exact clothes as last night.

Closing the door behind you, you made your way downstairs. As you walked through the living room, three very recognizable voices made their way to your ears. Two of your three guests were expected from what Bucky told you. One of them made your blood start to boil, anxiety and nerves shooting through you. You took a deep breath before rounding the corner to the kitchen, silently praying that Bucky wouldn’t hear your heart rate spike and come down here.

Pepper spotted you first, already having brewed coffee and smiling at you. “Good morning, y/n.”

Smiling back at her, you took the mug of coffee from her gratefully. “Been a few weeks since you visited, Pep. I was wondering if you forgot about me.” You teased before turning to your other guest. “Keeping her busy, I presume?” You smiled at Tony.

The two must have just come back from their Honeymoon, something you knew Pepper was looking forward to. The Coven wasn’t quite the same without your mother hen witch sister. Older than you, she took over as your mother figure rather quickly after finding you. She was the reason your powers were under control most of the time, having taught you everything she knew.

You then turned to your third visitor, “Council Member Pierce, what brings you to my little nitch of the woods?” You gave a polite smile, noticing Tony’s apologetic smile behind the Council member.

“Simply passing through during our investigation of what happened to the Mountain Coven,” he provided. God, you always hated how calculating he sounded, even with simple sentences. Alexander Pierce, one of your least favorite Council Members and the current Head of the Council, and they all inadvertently hated you.

“We heard what happened and wanted to check in on you when we found Council Member Pierce here already on his way,” Pepper, ever the diplomat, supplied you with the missing gap. He probably forced his way into your home or forced Pepper to open the door knowing him. Manipulative and slimy seemed to be common Council member personality traits.

Rubbing the inside of your wrist, you smiled warmly, plastering the fake grin on your features. “Well make yourself at home before continuing on in your journey.”

“Oh, he was just leaving,” Tony snarled lowly. Pepper placed a hand on his shoulder, and he visibly relaxed, yet you could practically see the fumes coming off of him.

Pierce simply stood, “Keep a tighter leash on your dog Ms. Potts,-“

“Potts-Stark,” Tony snarled, eyes narrowing, Pierce ignored him as he continued.

“I will be seeing more of you during the investigation, don’t disappoint Ms. L/n.”

You gave him a fake smile once more, “Have a great day,” he promptly left, and you shut the door none-to-gently behind him.

Sitting back in the kitchen you took a sip of your coffee, letting the scorching liquid boil your insides. You could feel both Starks’ gaze burning into your head as you sighed. “I know you smelled him the second you walked through the door Tony, and thank you for not tell Pierce. Now, tell me what you’re thinking,” you locked eyes onto the werewolf.

“That you’re insane, or that you’re going to get yourself killed, where should I start?” He deadpanned.

You sighed softly, taking another sip of your coffee. “Bucky, you can come down here,” you called softly, knowing he could hear you from your room.

A small gust of wind notified you of his added presence. He placed a hand on your hip possessively, fangs bared as he growled. “Mutt,” he scowled.

“Leech,” Tony responded in kind, baring his own fangs. Pepper shot you a look, one you shrugged off. Both men were confrontational, but you knew Tony since you were younger, and he wouldn’t just hurt another nocturnal without a reason. And Bucky, despite technically barely knowing him, well, he was just a goofball at heart. And you knew he would trust you.

Placing a hand on his shoulder seemed effective, the growling buzzing off softly. Inky black eyes looking at you for an explanation. “Bucky, this is one of my Coven Sisters, Pepper, and her husband, Tony. You two better play nice,” you threatened giving them both a look.

Tony scowled at you, “You dragged a leech into your home and you want me to play nice?!” he fumed. You knew Tony was just trying to protect you but sometimes he did go a bit overboard.

“Yes, wolfie. I have some explaining-“

“Yeah, no shit!” He cried out.

Sighing softly, you headed out towards the library without another word, all three on your heels. You quickly gathered the books you needed, dropping the new additions besides the books on witch and Soul Bound Lore already sitting on your desk. Bucky took an interest in one, in particular, an old relic Wanda had found for you. He gulped faintly, running his fingers through the yellowed pages before looking up at you. Tony and Pepper watched curiously, both noting how the two nocturnals in front of them seemed to gravitate towards each other like magnets.

Grabbing the book, you most frequented about Soul Bound, you slid it towards the couple, taking a deep breath. “Bucky and I are Soul Bound,” you explained in a meek voice.

Both Starks responded at the same time.

“You’re name’s Bucky?!”

“You’re Soul Bound to a vampire?!”

Taking a chance, you gently intertwined your hand in Bucky’s, who seemed quite shocked you would do that. You were positive that if he could, he would be blushing, staring at your hand. Tightening your grip on him you nodded, “Yeah…”

Tony burst into a fit of giggles, making Pepper roll her eyes. “I’m sorry, what kind of old fashion name from a vampire is Bucky,” he continued to laugh.

“Short for Buchanan. My baby sister, Becca, came up with it,” he babbled, swallowing against the bile rising in his throat.

“What happened to her?” Your mouth moved before your brain told it to shut up and not interrogate the man with the missing memories.

He squinted faintly at your interlocked hands, thinking for a moment before replying, “Died of yellow fever when we were young.”

“Wow, we’ve known him for ten minutes and we’re already learning the tragic backstory. Can you believe that, Pep?” Tony interrupted.

Swallowing back the new wave of memories the words ‘yellow fever’ brought into your head, you opened the book in front of you. “I need your help, Pepper. Is there a way to bring someone back to life? You’re the only witch I know who even read the necromancy chapter in school and took it seriously.”

“I mean probably, in theory, that’s the whole point of necromancy, bringing life to the dead and dying.” She shrugged, turning the book towards her. She browsed a few pages, while you ignored Tony’s looks towards your vampire. Wait. When did he become your vampire? “This might be it,” Pepper mumbled, turning the page towards you. Both you and Bucky started skimming through the words. “There’s a difference between bringing back from the brink of death and actual death, but this is the main difference.”

Bucky squeezed your hand faintly, “I did the spell wrong,” his shoulders were hunched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly. Preoccupied with his reaction, you didn’t notice the rest of your Coven filing through the library doors. They visibly froze at seeing Bucky, Carol’s eyes zeroing in on your intertwined hands.

“Did what spell wrong?” Natasha called, causing you to jump with a small shriek.

“Shit! Nat, don’t scare me like that,” you glared at her. She gave you a self-satisfied smirk in response as you spoke. “Necromancy. Specifically, a spell to bring someone back. Well… we don’t think this is the first life we’ve been tied together.” That was the first time you said it out loud, accepted it. It was terrifying. Liberating.

“First life?” Maria was the one to speak up, sliding into a nearby chair, Sasha happily jumping into her lap. The tabby purred as she rubbed behind her ears as you tried to think about how you could explain this big mess.

Thankfully, Bucky spoke. “I was born in the 1600s, my wife and I moved to a newer colony, and they killed her, Theo, for being a witch. She was my Soul Bound. I… I tried to save her, but I think I used the wrong spell. I think I used a rebirth spell instead of a bringing back from the brink of death spell.”

Carol’s eyes narrowed in on him, “You were a witch too? Convenient if you ask me. Besides, how do we know your ‘Theo’ is y/n?” All the Coven’s (and one amused werewolf’s) eyes were bearing into him.

He held up the hand he was laced into, “This birthmark, Theo had one in the exact spot. Well, her’s was a scar, from when she pricked herself on needles.” He put your hand back down before continuing. “Mint leaves like her, exact same scent,” his vision started to double, and he took a shaky breath, “Same powers, same eyes when she uses said powers, same smile, same kindness towards any creature,” he groaned softly, using his free hand to clutch his temples. “Fuck, not now,” he whimpered.

You helped him take a seat, ignoring your Coven to make sure he was comfortable. “Are you okay? It’s a memory isn’t it?” He nodded weakly, looking up at you, which made you realize your hands had migrated into cupping his cheeks. “I’m right here, Bucky, I’ve got you,” you murmured, moving up to gently rub his temples as he whined. Vulnerable and terrified, soul in your hands, the Coven watched as you guarded over your defenseless vampire.

-

Laughter like honey. Smiles like sugar. Candied hearts, crystallized tears of joy. His Theo. Always his. He was a liar. She was gone. And it was his fault.

He kept running, too slow for the woman – no, creature – beside him, but he no longer cared. Running for far too long. Kill him. He deserved it. He was a monster. He lied. He broke his promise.

Somewhere along the way, a man started to run with him as well. To blind by his own tragedy, he truly didn’t even notice the two vampire companions having a fling. Peggy. She had dragged him away from her death. Now, Steve, was it?, was to lovesick with the older vampire to notice she was stringing him along. She never did like the loneliness of eternity.

Mud, moss, gross green stuff. Bucky no longer cared. That was until the caught up with him. Finally, finish this. Kneeling in the cold mud, freezing rain biting into his skin. A gun pressed to the back of his head to keep him still, but he didn’t care. He begged for it to finally be over.

It was truly ironic, he though at least, that the very judge that passed the sentence that murdered his love, would put the bullet in his head and kill him. A loud shot, and a consuming, blinding pain encompassing his head and body. He couldn’t cry out as he fell onto the mud. Limp, hoping for his death to be just a little quicker, his murderer turned his body over. Through caked vision, he finally understood why he was always so wary of witches.

Judge Armin Zola stood above him, grinning murderously down at him. “Such a shame, Barnes. We could have been great, but you and your Bound were too powerful to control. Don’t take it too personal, after all, we don’t like any Natural Born, not just you.” Tormented, and alone, on his dying breath, Bucky could only think of how he couldn’t wait to see Theo again. And that’s when the burning pain started to shoot through his veins.

-

When Bucky came to, his head was resting on her lap. He practically purred, despite it sounding like a whine, as her hands ran through his hair. Home. Safe. His eyes shot open, scanning the room as he realized they weren’t alone.

“Calm down Count Chocula, y/n explained the memory thing while you were out, and her own issues,” Tony sneered, not looking up from the book he was perusing through.

He shook his head, trying to speak but his brain decided to disconnect with his mouth. “Let me help,” Wanda offered, already sitting beside the pair. “I read minds if you would like, save your strength.”

He looked up towards Theo – no, she’s Y/n now – who nodded, still running her hands through his hair. “You can trust her, I trust her with my life.”

That’s all he really needed. Anyone worthy of her affection earned his own a moment later. She’s all he needs to trust in, his new own personal religion. He nodded towards the red witch, who placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt like he was swimming in reds and burgundies. Wanda gasped softly, lifting her hand away quickly as if his touch burned her. “No way,” she muttered, rushing for a book. She hastily opened it, flipping through pages before freezing on a very specific section. “Look familiar?” She turned it for him to see. The crude drawing looked like his Theo, a noose around her neck, the Judge he saw standing beside her.

“That… that looks like me?” You murmured softly, hands stilling in Bucky’s hair.

The man in question sat up, groggy as the memories started to flash through his eyes, the blurry picture slowly coming into focus. He blinked a few times before pointing towards the Judge. “Him. He killed me ten years after killing you.”

Carol looked a bit skeptically towards them, “Yeah but why would some witch kill you two? Got him mad?”

He tilted his head towards the pages, skimming his finger along with the words. “He wasn’t just some witch.” He closed his eyes, straining to hold onto his racing thoughts before his eyes flashed gold then red again. “He was the Head of the Witch Council.” He turned towards a stunned you. “The Council killed us because we were gaining too much power,” he reached forward across the sofa, taking your hands in his.

“Ten years… you said you died in Queen Anne’s War, and I died ten years before that. My dreams, it's chilly, like October.” Your hands were shaking as your thoughts started to pull the information together, but Bucky’s cool and soft hands were acting as an anchor to this moment.

“Eighteen. They hung eighteen girls that October.” He was starting to connect it together as well.

“Holy shit, I died in the Salem Witch Trials,” your voice rang out throughout the room. Bucky squeezed your hands gently, and you let him act as your tether to the mortal whelm. “We were killed by the very Council that had sworn to protect all witches, and you were saved by the vampires we were told by them to fear.”

“Well, this is just getting deeper and deeper. Before you know it, you’ll be telling me the Coven to the North died because they found out the Council has been killing Naturals.” Tony quipped from the side of the room.

The room froze, taking in the statement. “Well, it would explain a lot,” you murmured. “They were getting powerful, and dominant witches who don’t need as much energy to have magic aren’t easy to control.” That was the last connecting dot. The darkness in the distance wasn’t just some mythical monster. It was the very same man that stood in your living room and drank your tea just an hour ago.

-

Tags:

Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland  / @lumar014 / @maniacproffesor / @gollyderek / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @avengerstones / @momc95 / @loving-life-my-way / @thelibraryoffanfiction / @marvelmaree

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings  / @darkness-doughter / @novaddictx / @thedancingnerdmermaid / @mood-pancakes / @gracethegeek9902 / @ravennightingaleandavatempus / @sunkissedbarnes / @annavega333

Blood Bound Tags:

@itz-kira​ / @rinthehufflepuff​ / @evilzinblr​ / @starkrobb​ / @paranoiadestroyah​ / @misplacedorphan / @ladysergeantbarnes​ / @gobemywonderwall​ / @yallneedtrek​

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

[eutaerpe]

venus and mars

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings — fluff, idolverse, boyfriend au, a wild (brat) jungkook appears, sleep deprived maknae line

notes  — hi!!! this is part of a small series of disconnected drabbles/blurbs centered on jimin, who is not my bias wrecker,,.......aha........yeah. unedited so sorry for my mistakes, this was written when i was sleep deprived.......aha......!!! i’ll link in the future the venus and mars moodboard, as tumblr still fucks up posts with links :( hope you like this!!! send me thoughts?? or love? wait no i’m proving a point i’m not jimin ♥︎

summary  — “He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.” 

Sometimes releasing an album it’s exhausting.

Jimin knows that.

It’s indefinitely cooler dropping hints to your fans and making them believe it’s a mind-blowing journey where you write lyrics everyday and produce sounds in thirty minutes tops. Like they’ve always been there, like they’ve been in your mind the whole time and you just had to politely ask them to come out and materialize themselves.

Most of the time, it’s just people in a room. Nodding to whatever is happening in their Macs, moving their hands in the air, following a certain rhythm one day thousands of people will know. Sometimes, instead, it’s all quiet, if he’s lucky; there’s only a reigning peace towering the leather couches and armchairs where people are sprawled on.

Right now, the silence’s broken by the small sounds his phone is making. The truth is that he’s gently forcing everyone to listen to his tracks.

He has been holding his phone and earbuds for the past forty-three minutes, crouching on his knees next to the person he needed the approval of. It’s a tad embarrassing, and people mostly thinks he does this in order to fulfil his praise kink, but. They’re not totally wrong.

He just really, desperately needs approval.

“It’s nice,” Namjoon says, and Jimin feels a rush of excitement spreading into his body. Namjoon doesn’t lie. Namjoon likes telling the truth, whether it’s a rushed “I don’t like it, I feel like you could do a lot better” or a warmer “I like this vibe. Keep working on this.”

Getting the members’ approval is one of the moments he shields the most in his heart, along with private, quick moments fans can’t see taking place. There’s a lot of congratulations behind the stage, a lot of hugging that can’t happen because of all the styling and make-up, lots of texts read by the managers out loud, declaring things like “you’ve really outdone yourselves” and “keep that going”, which never fail to make Jimin warm.

Though the hastiness of it all is somewhat frightening. There are people crowding the streets and stadiums and everywhere they go—for them, Jimin thinks, it’s heavier. The tickets fever, waiting outside for hours, shifting their bodies into difficult positions, outside buildings for so long just to see their smiles flashing for thirty seconds.

It’s unnerving.

Fans do so much and they—they jump into their cars, rapidly seeing the fans becoming dots into the distance. In a millisecond. Jimin hates that.

It’s past four am, his rushed recording has gotten almost everyone’s approval – not Jungkook’s, though; the Brat has decided that his work needs more backup vocals and a lot heavier hook, and drums or other weird, loud instruments – and this result alone should be relaxing, or. Exciting, he supposes. This should result in a definitely warmer feeling aimed to push him to work harder, as stuff like this usually does, but this time feels different. This time it’s – nonsense, an unknown frigid state of anxiety that he cannot calm down.

Dorm life feels suffocating now, because Seokjin is in the studio, Namjoon is distantly working to lyrics and Hoseok has disappeared ever since he announced he’d be working for a diverse track, loud and crazy and depictive of their pent-up energy.

Anxious Jimin knows talking helps, but Rational Jimin argues that the only voice he’d want to hear, now, is not available, so what’s the point?

You’re resting.

Aha. What a feeling. What an unconceivable, strange action he was used to when he was younger.

Still, you’re resting. Closing your eyelids for more than thirty-six seconds on a working day. Sleeping.

Like every other normal human being at four am.

He groans, unblocking his phone and instantly drowning in his oversized hoodie, his left hand barely making an appearance in the cold hair.

He shouldn’t, he reckons, but you have always told Jimin he shouldn’t think, and moreover, he shouldn’t listen to his self-destructive thoughts when hungry or sleep-deprived.

So, ding, ding, ding! He excels in non-proper thinking when sleep deprived – and he’s always sleep deprived, so. Ten thousand points to Gryffindor, as Seokjin-hyung would say.

Jungkook mutters a “Gotta pee,” exiting the room and leaving Jimin alone in the living room. You’re not picking up. That’s okay, that’s fine, he should really stop bothering you—

“Hey, Chim,”

It’s the softest voice he has ever heard in his twenty-three years of life. God. You could punch him in the gut, and he’d thank you.

“Is…” – you’re shuffling in bed, and he can picture you passing a hand over your closed eyes – “Is everything okay?”

Jimin licks his lips, feeling his tiredness embracing him. “Yeah, sorry I woke you up…”

“Mhm.” You breathe out. “Nonsense.”

He hears you sitting on your bed, yawning. “Have you showed the others your recording?”, you ask, because you’re perfect like this. Jimin instantly feels guilty for this random night call.

“The hyungs liked it,” he murmurs, voice low, “I’ll show you tomorrow, if you want to?”

“Please. It’s not like I’ve been begging you to for the past week, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the main reason why I’m avoiding you.”

You groan, making him smile. “Don’t joke about it, jerk. We miss you.”

“We?”

“My bed? Me? Mostly the bed, though?”

The idiot snorts. “Cocky, aren’t we?”

But you do love this idiot. “Not joking. I’ve been hearing stuff from these sheets. ‘Been missing your non-existent tattoo.”

“Sounds logic.” Jimin hums, and that’s all you need to hear to know he’s feeling better than seconds ago.

“Babe,” you start, tongue rolling on the back of your mouth, “What I’m about to say is not gonna make a lot of sense because a minute ago I was dreaming about chocolate bunnies and serial killers, but. You know I miss you, right? But then again, you know this, and you know that I love you.”

Jungkook plops on the couch and starts scrolling on what Jimin assumes is his secret twitter account. Stan account, according to the sources. (Taehyung and Seokjin are his sources, thank you very much). When the younger turns around and catches him staring, Jimin all but attempts a smile—promptly cut by the cushion Guk throws him.

Jimin sighs. They grow up so fast.

“I know you. I know that if there’s someone who can go through these hard few days, it’s you and the guys. In a couple weeks you’re going to think about this day and laugh because it sounds like the plot of an indie, overrated movie. You can do it. I know you do.”

He loves you so much he could cry, but he decides against it. Instead, he says: “You’re like my energizer drink, you know?”

To which Jungkook and you both answer with a disinterested, “Ew, disgusting.”

The things your boyfriend says when sleepy. Gosh.

“Why the fuck is noona still dating you?” – Jungkook prorupts loudly enough that you hear, voice painted with curiosity – “You’re weird, hyung.”

“It’s definitely because of your dick—”

“She says I’m a kind soul.”

“—Dicking game’s so good I might forget you just called me a sweetened drink.”

“And buy her expensive stuff.”

Jungkook feigns a shocked face. “So, you’re her sugar daddy? Noona, I have an apartment. For myself.”

“Don’t hit on my girl right in front of me, kid.”

You erupt into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, when did Guk become so annoying? I love him. Can we adopt him?”

“Too bad,” he says aloud, trying not to smile, “Too bad we’ve already adopted him as our group’s mascot, babe. He’s not an obedient child, though.”

The “Fuck off,” Jungkook sputters is enough for making you laugh so hard he doesn’t have it in himself to stop you because you’re so loud you could wake Tae, asleep on the kitchen counter.

This—this moment right here, is what Jimin loves most about his life. Besides performing and laughing because Jungkook called him a small pepper once again – the audacity – and other vague, members-related facts. You calm him, and love him, and listen to whatever thing he has on his mind.

“He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

“Yeah, me neither. Guess one of us really needs to sleep and, shockingly, that’s not you?”

“I know,” – Jimin assures, closing his eyes – “Pretty sure this is another of your strange dreams, weirdo.”

You’re drifting off, and it’s the cutest thing Jimin has ever witnessed. “Kiss Guk goodnight. And…” a yawn, “Call me again in a couple hours, I really want to know what you’re working on, baby.”

“That can do,” he says, softly. “Love you.”

But he doesn’t hear you saying it back to him.

Only Taehyung muttering a soft “Nobody ever kisses me goodnight.”, half dead, half pouted, which makes Jimin smile like an idiot.

[kookiemuffin]

Kookie makes cookies!

"Kookie!" Jimin called from across the house, holding a bowl of cookie dough.

Jungkook came prancing from his bedroom, wearing his lamby pajamas. He giggled happily and stopped only centimeters away from Jimin. He looked up at his hyung with his big eyes and stood on his tip toes.

"Do you want to help me make cookies, Kookie?" Jimin asked cheerfully.

"Yes! Yes!" Jungkook beamed bouncing up and down.

"Your stool is at the island, hop up." Jimin said, leading Jungkook to his purple stool. The younger stepped up, slapping his hands on the counter top. Jimin set the glass bowl of cookie dough down in front Jungkook, whistling a tune.

"Take this big spoon and mix it up!" He chirped, holding the bowl steady, as Jungkook slowly mixed the already combined treat.

"Where da choco chips at?" Kookie asked cutely, reaching his mischievous hands into the dough, squishing it between his fingers.

"Yah, don't put your hands in there!" Jimin scolded, taking Jungkooks hands and wiping them down with a wet paper towel. "We don't know where these paws have been. We don't want any earwax, boogers or dirt getting in our cookies." He explained gently.

"Otay...but I like my boogers." Jungkook said casually. Jimin chuckled to himself, tossing the dirty towel into the trash.

"You sure do, but everyone else doesn't." Jimin mused, taking a bag of chocolate chips from the cabinet behind him. "Look, pour these yummy guys in."

"eeeeee!!" Jungkook shrieked, clapping his hands. Jimin gave him the now open bag and pulled out his phone to take video.

As Jungkook tilted the crinkly bag, the contents fell out into a bowl. The little laughed and flipped the bag upside down, emptying all of the chocolate chips into the mixture. The brown pieces piled up on each other into quite he mound that reminded Jungkook of their walk in the woods.

"It's bunny poop!" He laughed, pointing to the chocolate. "Like what TaeTae stepped in!"

"Oh, Kookie. I guess it's similar?" Jimin said to himself, stopping the video. "So much for a cute clip. Start folding those in with your spoon." He instructed, playing kids music from his phone.

Jungkook moved the spoon around the bowl, smushing the chips into the dough and moving them around. He stuck the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Jimin smiled at the boy and began preparing the metal baking sheet.

Jimin showed Jungkook how to ball the cookie dough and where to place it on the tray. Kookie took a big handful of the cookie dough and started rolling it into a ball shape. He had lots of practice with his playdough and knew this was the moment his life had been waiting for. Jimin finished placing the third ball and glanced at Jungkooks work.

"That's going to be a big cookie, Kookie." He stated, chuckling the enormous amount the boy had picked up. Jungkook stayed silent, rolling the ball in his hands over and over again. Nearly a minuet later, Jimin placed about ten more cookie balls and paused to check on Jungkook.

"How's your cookie ball coming along?" He asked.

"Not perfect." Jungkook pouted, looking down at the bumpy dough ball in his hands.

"It doesn't have to be perfect, baby. When we put them in the oven they will flatten out into circles." Jimin explained and assured.

"Not gonna be a ball cookie?" Jungkook asked, the complexity of how this ball could turn into a circle, genuinely confusing him.

"No, sorry. Maybe we could find a recipe for ball cookies next week, does that sound good?" Jimin asked, praying that Jungkook wouldn't get upset. There had to be some sort of recipe for what Jungkook had in mind.

"Mhm, I wan daddy to have dis one." Jungkook said, handing his dough ball to Jimin.

"Okay, you can give him this one. Can you make some more, but make them a little Yeah smaller?" Jimin asked sweetly while he put Jungkooks cookie on a separate tray.

"Yup!" The little answer, taking a decently sized clump from the bowl and rolling it in his hands.

Ten minutes past, and the boys had a total of 36 cookies on four sheets, plus Jungkook's massive cookie on its own tray. Jimin helped Jungkook wash his hands and gave him a high five. Jungkook watched with curiosity, as Jimin loaded the metal sheets filled with cookies into the oven. Jimin set the timer and turned his attention to Kookie.

"What would you like to do now, baby?" Jimin asked, holding Jungkook on his hip.

"I dunno! Lay wif stuffies!" Jungkook decided.

"Sounds like a plan." Jimin confirmed, planting a kiss on kooks hair.

Jimin carried Jungkook to his regression room and placed him down on the floor. Jungkook scampered off to the big blanket he had laid out in-front of the window covered with all his stuffed animals, and laid down. He curled up with a tan fox stuffie, giggling and kicking his feet. Jimin smiled widely, that boy was just too darn cute.

Jungkook lay peacfully with a puppy pillow pet under his head, looking up at his ceilings glow stars. With a giggle he grabbed a small big eyed bear and pretended it was flying through space and running away from aliens. Jimin, on the other hand, sat down on the cushioned rocking chair and watched Jungkook play.

He watched, as Jungkook's eyes fluttered shut and he lowered his arm to his chest. Nap time. Jimin smiled softly and got up from his seat to give Jungkook a forehead kiss. Then he quietly left the room to start cleaning up the kitchen while the little one slept.

Time passed, and Jungkook slept. Jimin pulled out all the cookies from the oven and left them on wire racks to cool, even Jungkooks once fist sized dough ball that spread out into an uneven circle. Jimin chuckled to himself and started to actually clean up all the dishes they used.

"Jimin-ah, where's Kookie? Isn't he regressed today?" A worn out looking Yoongi questioned, scratching his face.

"Uhm yeah, he's in the playroom napping. Do you want a cookie, hyung?" Jimin offered, picking up one of the warm treats from its place in the cooling rack.

"Sure." Yoongi said, allowing Jimin to shove the cookie in his mouth. "Christ, Jimin! I can eat it myself." He said half annoyed, half amused. Jimin giggled and wrapped his arms around Yoongi, giving his hyung a bear hug.

"Is it good?" Jimin asked, looking up and Yoongi.

"Mhm!" Yoongi mumbled, mid chew.

"It's my moms recipe. She used to make these every other week." The younger said, picking up a cookie for himself to eat.

"I should stay at your moms place from now on." Yoongi joked, examining his cookie.

"But you can't leave meee!" Jimin whined, latching himself to Yoongi's body. "I'll make these cookies everyday!"

"Hey, I was just kidding. Right here, is perfect." He explained, petting the back of Jimins hair. Jimin sighed into Yoongi's shoulder and took a step back.

"Good." He affirmed with a smile. Yoongi nodded, his gaze drifting to the large brown circle that was on a wire sheet.

"What the hell is that?" Yoongi questioned, pointing his finger. Jimin turned around and chuckled to himself.

"Kookie made that. It's a big cookie for Namjoon hyung." He mused. "I don't even know if it's cooked all the way through." Jimin admitted, poking the center of the cookie.

"Namjoon shouldn't notice." Yoongi said, scrunching up his eyebrows.

A small pitter patter came from down the hall, alerting the two boys the Jungkook had woken up. The little appeared promptly, his baby blanket tied around his neck and stuffed giraffe in his hands. Jungkook head butted Yoongi and set to Jimin, climbing into the elders hold.

"Someone's awake, huh?" Yoongi mumbled, rubbing his hip.

"Cookies!" Jungkook cheered, a patch of drool glistening on his cheek. Jimin agreed and wiped the spit away with his hand. He placed Jungkook back in the floor and handed him one of the cookies.

"Here you go, baby!" He chirped, watching Jungkook a take a big bite of the still warm cookie.

"Yummy! I wanna give daddy his!" Jungkook exclaimed, energized from his snooze and generally happy to be eating food.

"What do you want to give me?" A deeper voice asked form around the corner. Namjoon stepped into the room, dressed in all black and holding a pair of headphones.

"Daddy!" Jungkook squealed, running into said persons arms. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, bunny. All day, the only thing I could think about was my little bunny rabbit, and how much fun he was having while I was gone." Namjoon said, holding Jungkook tightly to his chest. His heart seemed to be refilled after the long tiring day he endured.

"Guess what!" Jungkook said loudly.

"What is it?" Namjoon asked, easing an eyebrow.

"Made you the biggest cookie in da world!!" Jungkook nearly screamed, wiggling around in his daddy's arms wildly.

"Inside voice, baby." Jimin reminded gently. Jungkook nodded, and continued his excitement.

"It's over dare!" The little exclaimed, lowering his tone and pointing at the kitchen island.

"Let's go see." Namjoon said, heading in the direction he was pointed in.

"Holy sh-" Namjoon gasped.

"Cow!" Jungkook interrupted goofily.

"You made that?!" Namjoon asked, genuinely amazed the the cookies size. Jimin and Yoongi laughed together. The leader wasn't exactly knowledgeable when it came to baking. He didn't know how it was an actually pretty easy thing to do.

"Yup! And it's all for you!" Jungkook said, clapping his hands.

"Thank you so much, bunny!" Namjoon chuckled, lightly bumping heads with Jungkook. "I'll enjoy every bite, except, it may take me a few months to finish."

________________________

[the-ship-port]

Avengers Ship Request

@doralupin01 and here’s your Avengers ship!  I hope you’ve enjoyed these and if you have any comments, concerns, want more ships, or just wanna chat sometime, just drop me an ask!  Thanks for requesting! :)

Your Best Friend:

Clint!

You apply for a job at S.H.I.E.L.D., passing your training with flying colors.  You make your way through the ranks and find yourself working often with Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  As you are an ISTJ and Clint and Natasha are ISTPs, their cognitive functions are near-perfect shadows of your own, meaning they operate in a way that is different but complementary to your own cognitive mechanics.  (To further illustrate, your cognitive function stack is Si-Te-Fi-Ne, while theirs is Ti-Se-Ni-Fe.)  Your organized (primary)Si grounds their spontaneous (secondary)Se while their observant Se informs your data-storing Si and organized (secondary)Te grounds experimental (primary)Ti while inquisitive Ti informs your intellectual Te, etc.  Because your cognitive functions “play well together”, you work well together--naturally, even--on missions.  While you start off doing intel for S.H.I.E.L.D., they begin to see the potential of placing you in the field due to your sharp intellect and your craft for interrogation(with some tricks Natasha taught you).  You, Clint, and Natasha become something of the three(sharp, smart, sarcastic, introverted)amigos.  You and Clint become close mostly from covering each other in the field and learning to rely on each other, but also from the down moments when you’re sitting around the base sharing some dark humor over cold case files.  Along with Natasha, he decides to tell you about his family and even takes you to the safe house sometimes, because he sees you as a little(“really little”, he picks, which does not amuse you but does amuse you)sister.

Your Bestie Aesthetic:

Your Bestie Playlist: Wanted Dead or Alive(Bon Jovi) Carry on Wayward Son(Kansas) Give it Away(Red Hot Chili Peppers) Livin’ on the Edge(Aerosmith)

Your Love Interest:

Natasha!

The three of you work together for years, gradually becoming close.  As you’re the newer recruit, they teach you everything they know, and you’re an eager learner.  Soon, you’re keeping pace with them, although your strengths are different than theirs, and you make a great team.  They teach you everything you know, and you and Nat particularly enjoy bantering back in forth in different languages to get on Clint’s nerves.

You thought Nat was pretty from the moment you met her, but you didn’t realize how deep the attraction went for years.  The three of you never questioned what made your dynamic work; you were just a good team.  You especially enjoyed sitting with her and conducting hypothetical interrogations; you enjoyed it, and found yourself transitioning more and more into simple conversation with her and even banter(you share your sense of humor), and the two of you learn a lot about each other; although Nat’s very private, what can she say?  She taught you too well.

Matters changed when you nearly lost her in the field.  Yes, you three put yourselves in mortal danger everyday, but you worked with two top ex-assassin agents, and you guess you always figured if one of you was going to die, it’d most certainly be you.  But then there she is, surrounded, and one of the grunts charges her.  She shoots him several times in the abdomen, but he still manages to wrangle her gun from her as his guts spill and falls on top of her, still.  One of the other grunts then grabs the gun and points it right at Nat’s head before she can wrestle herself from under the body.  A jolt goes through you and you freeze.  You don’t even remember pulling the trigger.  But as soon as you do, the grunt that was threatening Nat is down, and three more are looking right at you, aiming their weapons--an arrow pierces one right in the heart, and when the other two look for its source, Nat heaves the heavy body in front of her, letting it take their bullets before ramming right into and disarming both of them, then rendering them unconscious.  She looks up at you.  You lower the gun, your hand still shaking.  Afterwards, she approaches you, and you discuss it--you confess you were scared--terrified--of losing her.  Nat assures you you have nothing to worry about, but she does understand the feeling.  She’s lost people before, so she knows what to be afraid of...and back when you were still learning, she was constantly afraid of losing you.  You look at her here.  But she assures you that the three of you are together in this, and you have to know you have each other’s backs, just like you had hers today, and just like she’ll always have yours.

After that, it became increasingly clear how you felt.  You begin to spend more and more time with her--almost as though to make up for the years you nearly lost.  She picks up on this, and tells you to stop being cheesy(mostly because she doesn’t want to think like that either).  One day, you realize you can’t keep running from it; you’re in love with the sarcastic ginger.  There’s only one thing to do about it.  You buy some roses--that’s what people do with things like this, right?--and approach her.  She looks at you and sees the flowers. “Yes.” “What?  But I--” “Yes.  Where?  When?” You invite her out to a restaurant--classic first date--in the country your current mission is in, all the while wondering when you’re going to wake up.  But no, you become more and more convinced that this is all real, especially when a couple of backward-thinking drunks eye the two of you and start making homophobic jokes, at which point Nat promptly looks at you. “Mind if I kiss you right now?” “Uh…” Public displays of affection aren’t your favorite...but if it’ll make those two shut up--you nod, a faint blush gracing your pale features.  She promptly brushes your hair out of your face, cups your chin, pulls you across the table and kisses you.  Just to prove it wasn’t just thrown together to make the drunks shut up, she kisses you again after you’ve walker her home, winks, and says you should do this again sometime.

To tell the truth, Nat isn’t the type to get tied down--and neither was Clint, once upon a time.  As things intensify between you, she finds herself falling more and more in love with you, but also growing kind of nervous.  She has a heart to heart with Clint about it, and she tells her frankly that the two of you are lucky to have found each other, and if you love each other, you’ve gotta be all in.  After that, she goes to spontaneous lengths to demonstrate her devotion, ultimately even taking you out one night after a mission and giving you some roses like those you gave her on your first date.  You giggle, since it’s kind of out of character for her, only to look up from the roses to see her on one knee.  She tells you she can’t imagine being with anyone else--she doesn’t just want to fight by your side for the rest of your life, she wants to sleep there, and wake up there, and live there--as long as you both shall live.  And you say yes.

You have the wedding at Clint’s place--where you two feel safest--in the barn.  He cleans the place out and spiffs it up nice with some flowers and other decorations.  You appreciate the effort, and make him your mutual man of honor out of gratitude.  He rises to the occasion, even planning your respective showers.  All of the Avengers are present on the big day, and Clint gets choked up about his two best friends getting married during his speech.  You three really are one crazy family.

Your Couple Aesthetic:

Your Couple Playlist: Just a Girl(No Doubt) Captivate You(Marmozets) Kiss Me Deadly(Lita Ford) Paint it, Black(Rolling Stones)

[etherealblasphemy]

The End of the Beginning

he. it’s rather fitting that i post this on new year’s day.

STARBOUND IS OFFICIALLY OVER!!! I finished at ten last night and promptly fell asleep (oops), but I’ve finished the writing of my very first novel-length bullshittery! Forewarning now, there’ll be a looooong A/N at the end about the future of Starbound, but for now, let’s get right into the tomfuckery, shall we?

(as always, translations for the Vasryian language are at the end of the chapter!)

TW: Mentions of alcohol, intoxication, and referenced murder

   “Does my dress look okay?” They turned again, trying to see how they looked from behind. They scrutinized the pale red fabric, watching how the shadows fell on their back as they twisted, the bottom fanning out. “It’s not too tight, right?” Two gentle hands grasped their wrists, spinning them around.

   “Stop frettin’, ya look right,” the mechanic assured them. “Now hurry ya horse, or we’ll be late!” She fixed her navy waistcoat, smoothing out wrinkles. “Sirs, are y’all decent?” From behind the divider, Dominic called out that they were. The three guards popped out, greeting Cal. All three of them wore the original uniform of the Vasryian Guard, a dark red tunic with a brilliant yellow flower in the center covering silver breeches and a small, sheathed dagger on their sides. Their black riding boots, not unlike the ones Roman wore, also bore the Vasryian seal on the buckles.

   “I can guide you to the Center Hall. The palace seems more like a labyrinth everyday I’m here,” Jamahl remarked, stepping forward. “Let’s go, before Prince Roman throws a fit that we’re not there!” Cal burst out laughing as they set off through the palace, able to see the crowds through the tall, gilded windows.

   “Only a month…” Terrence mused. “Only a month, and His Highness has won back the hearts of the people like Draven never existed… it’s a miracle.” Cal giggled knowingly, sending a silent thank you to their ancestor. “I’m so excited!” the guard continued. “Prince Roman will make such a good king!”

   “He looks more and more like his father every day. I almost called him by his father’s name, did you know?” Dominic chuckled. “It seems like yesterday Her Majesty was scolding Prince Roman for getting lost in the catacombs again, or His Majesty was teaching His Highness how to properly wield a sword.” He sighed. “Those dear, dead days beyond recall.”

   “Fifteen years,” Jamahl chimed in, “since that dreadful day.” He smiled bittersweetly at Cal and Wonder. “Thank you two, for bringing laughter back into these halls.”

   “No, thank y’all,” Wonderling insisted, “for always believin’ in Roman.” A grateful, merry mood settled in them as they moved through the maze of hallways.

   “Anybody know how long this ceremony is going to last? I’m planning on bringing snacks,” Cal joked. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look, Sir Jamahl! I’m only half kidding!” Laughter echoed across the walls, mixing with the growing clamour from the Center Hall. They could see a crowd beginning to form, a wild throng of feathers, furs, and scales jumbling together in blurs of color. They let out a heavy breath, never one to be at ease with masses. A hand squeezed their arm.

   “Ya gon’ be fine, Cal?” Wonderling inquired under her breath, eyebrows raised with concern. Cal felt their face flush and nodded quickly, focusing on the floor ahead of them.

   The guards escorted them through the growing multitude, bringing them into the Center Hall. Cal’s jaw dropped at the transformation that it had gone through since Draven’s defeat. The windows and chandeliers were newly polished, sparkling with a heaven-like light that cast rainbows across the marble floor. The throne Draven had used, which was ebony with golden ivy winding up the sides, was gone, replaced by the thrones of Roman’s father and mother, his own throne to the left of his mother’s. The three thrones were all made of a silvery wood, with scarlet cushions and elaborately carved reliefs in the arm rests and head crests. Every few feet down the hall were vases filled with blooming flowers of every hue, filling the air with pleasant aromas that reminded Cal of memories that weren’t even theirs.

   Virgil, Logan, and Patton were clumped together at the front, talking amongst each other excitedly. “I’m thrilled to finally be able to listen to Vasry again. It’s been forever since I’ve heard it, and it’s such a pretty language compared to Aresan. Roman and I only used it when we spoke to each other in private,” Patton was saying as they approached. The guards split off from Cal and Wonderling and went into a side room, where their superior was likely giving out orders for the celebratory day.

   “Will they use it in the ceremony, though?” Logan countered, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose. “It is to my understanding that Aresan is the principal language used in the Vasryian palace. Did I misunderstand?”

   “Oh, no, Aresan is only used for diplomatic purposes… usually… maybe he changed it. But Vasry will definitely used. I remember Roman starting to learn the verses when we were kids. He always stuttered back then, but I‘m sure he’ll do fine today!” Patton grinned as he sat down. “Cal, I saved you a seat!” He waved excitedly at Cal, beckoning them to come and sit down.

   “Aw, aren’t ya just a sweetheart, Patton,” Wonderling laughed. “I’ll go find my chair and leave y’all to yaselves for now, but I expect us to chat up afterwards, a’ight?” She smiled sweetly, mirth in her eyes.

   “We literally just fought a battle together a month ago, what is there to catch up about?” Virgil scoffed with glee.

   “Ya gon’ tell me everythin’ about ya and Roman, ya hear me? Or perhaps I oughta ask Patton?” she chuckled as Virgil flushed, unable to retort for fear of a backlash of wit. Wonderling escaped rapidly, finding her own seat a few rows behind where Cal and their friends would sit during the ceremony. As soon as the four took their seats, Cal still nervously adjusting their dress, an organ stuffed in a hidden corner of the hall began to play, signaling the entrance of the ascending prince. Cal immediately rose, as they had practiced at the rehearsal earlier that week, and turned to watch for Roman, eager to see what sort of regalia he had been forced into.

   The mahogany doors at the end of the hall opened with grandeur, and in strode Roman. He wore a simple white tunic with tan breeches and black boots, a stark contrast to the dresses and suits the audience members wore. The soon-to-be-king also wore a golden cape that trailed for several feet on the floor, almost like a bride, with silver designs intricately sewn onto the fabric.  Roman caught the eyes of his friends and smiled anxiously before returning his gaze to the end of the hall, where an old priest waited for him.

   Roman walked slowly but purposefully, as though every step he took had been planned years in advance. He reached the raised platform where the priest seemed to tower above him despite her short stature.

   “Prince Roman,” she greeted, her voice laced with cobwebs and dust. He bowed his head in salutation. “Thou stands before the judgement of the heavens today. Thou wishes to ascend to the Vasryian throne?”

   “I do,” Roman stated.

   “Then stand before thy ancestors and answer with an honest soul.” The priest retrieved a  small, worn book from a shelf behind her, its cover a pale blue that had faded with the unseen sands of time. “Dost thou solemnly and honestly swear to govern and protect the Peoples of Vasryia and all its Territories, respecting the laws and customs of the lands thou reign over?” the priest said, her gnarled fingers curling around the spine of the book of myths.

   “I solemnly promise to govern and protect, to the best of my ability, the Peoples over whom I have been given duty to reign.” They could hear Roman’s voice was shaking, no doubt scared he would stumble over his words and ruin everything.

   “Will every action thou take be for the good and betterment of Vasryia and its Peoples? Will thee put the life of thy Nation before thine own? Will thee govern with an open and just heart, a wise and witful mind, and a humble and mighty soul?” The priest’s voice rang out, filling the entirety of the Hall so that each and every present being could hear the will of the heavens.

   Roman hesitated. “I— I will.” Cal saw him swallow, digging his thumb’s nail into the soft flesh of his finger, almost hard enough to draw forth blood. The priest paused as though she noticed Roman’s momentary rumination, but continued without a word.

   “Dost thou take the oath in good health, good mind, and good spirit, and allow the spirit of our Savior Calypso to take root in your soul?” Roman nodded. “Then all Ye who have objection to the ascension of our beloved and at last returned Prince to the throne of the Vasryian King, speak now or forever hold thy peace.” The priest fell silent, her grey eyes of sagacity turned to the audience, daring any one of them to stand up and speak their cavil. None spoke.

   “The heavens have spoken. Prince Roman Machaizelli Bastian Prionsa of Vasryia shall ascend to the throne and bring balance once more to the lands as our rightful ruler. By the power vested in me by the spirit of Calypso herself, by the will of the Guardian and the Generals, I hereby proclaim thee the King of Vasryia. Come forth, and receive thy blessing from thy forebearers.” Roman glanced back quickly at Virgil, who smiled brightly, giving him a small thumbs up. Roman’s mood immediately shifted, his shoulders releasing their previous tension.

   He stepped forward and kneeled, his head bowed. The priest placed the book she held before him. The prince kissed it, murmuring in his native language. “Eh saeuna fa eh saegha iwa oen na ise Cayso, kirō e talhyn viosa i fa fērka-dai e gal. Mae na Garda yaesen na alma reaga eh noma sha da eh uoye haseo fai na sasha de eh Vasr.” The priest mumbled something unintelligible. “E reja na alma Cayso!” The priest repeated Roman’s word with a shriek, head upturned to the ceiling as though some invisible bird was perched upon the rafters. “E reja na alma na Garda! E reja na alma na Saeona!” The walls of the hall seemed to shake with the fervor in Roman’s voice.

   The priest put her book on a shelf behind them and took a vial of water. “These are the tears of Calypso, shed when she left her world behind.” As she spoke, the priest opened the vial and emptied it, the water spilling down Roman’s flower crown and face. The priest took a bottle of scented oil and poured it, too, over the prince. “This is the sweat of Calypso, shed when she trained with her Generals to protect her new world.” The third and final item the priest poured over Roman was a bowl of dark wine. “This is the blood of Calypso, shed when she died a thousand times to save her home.”

   “I am one with the soul of Calypso. She shall live in me and she shall live in Vasryia,” Roman swore as the priest guided him to his feet. At last, the priest grasped a golden scepter and orb, bringing it in front of Roman. The woman handed them to the soon-to-be-king, her wise eyes smiling despite her emotionless expression.

   “Prince Roman Machaizelli Bastian Prionsa, son of Vasryia, today thou ascends the throne as King of Vasryia. Thou hast sworn to protect thy nation until thy dying day. Thou hast received the blessings of Vasryia and her guardians. Now, turn to thy People and let them see the light of Calypso, the Generals, and the Guardian within thee.” Roman turned to the crowd, who waited with baited breath as he called out in the Vasryian tongue.

   “E sa tu ren!” he yelled, the Vasryians in the audience quickly responding in their native language. Once more, Roman kneeled, bowing his head as the priest placed a crown on his head.

   It was the Vasryian colors, gold and red, but it had gorgeous jewels adorning it in every hue, reminiscent of the Guardian’s wings. From where they were seated, Cal could see the small Vasryian seal embedded on the front.

   “Rise, King Roman, and claim thy place in history.” Roman steadily arose, a new aura about him as he stepped to the throne, sitting down as a king should, elegant and graceful, but strong and proud. His gaze was unwavering, staring straight ahead at the carved scenes on the doors at the end of the hall as the priest kneeled, bowing before her new king. Cal and the others in the hall replicated the movement, bowing deeply. As they straightened, sitting back down, bells began to toll, clanging and ringing and proclaiming the ascenscion of the king at last. A cheer went up through the hall as Roman visibly relaxed in his chair, thankful for the ceremony to at last be over.

   The crowd quickly dissipated, leaving Roman alone with the priest and a few select advisors to sign official documents. Cal heaved a sigh as the doors swung shut behind them. “Party time?” they asked hopefully. Virgil grinned conspiratorially.

   “Party time— Ow! Logan!”

   “The reception does not start for another three hours, and, anyways, Roman won’t be there for another five hours,” Logan reprimanded firmly. “I suggest we go and see the crowd outside, perhaps we can conversate with some of them. Roman will greet them in a couple of minutes, I believe.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

   “Fine, we can be responsible adults for five hours,” he whined. “But as soon as Roman walks in that room I’m going to get him fucking wasted!” He giggled softly as Logan smacked him over the head with a huff.

   The group headed outside, shielding their eyes from the burning sun. The mass of people lined up outside the palace was imposing, almost nerve-wracking for Cal as they stepped out of the palace. It was a warm day, one that without a doubt would end in a beautiful night, and not a cloud was in sight. Unfortunately, this meant that the gigantic crowd waiting to see their new king had absolutely no problem waiting hours to catch a glimpse in the beautiful weather.

   They waited to the side, protected by one of the glass towers from the gaze of the burning star as they watched the crowd. Someone was selling treats to the little children who begged their parents for the sweet pastries, and another vender sold handheld flags that bore the Vasryian seal. A pair of old women sat in the grass playing in a board game to pass the time as their husbands played cards.

   A sudden roar went up among the crowd, and Cal turned to see Roman exit the palace, waving at the Vasryian people. He walked up to the crowd held at bay only by a couple small wooden partitioners and several guards. He seemed to pick up on the eight eyes watching him curiously, and he pivoted to see his family. The royal waved them over, and, after a moment of deliberation, they heeded his request. As they got closer, the sounds of the throng grew, calls and shrieks and laughs and cries all jumbled into one cacophony of life.

   Roman addressed the common people, saying, “E fauna tu hanna fai na meoso de na alda fa na saeuna agus talta tu chaka yai e na saga lune sa cayse de na fin de na ren-vio de eh babusha venna. E talhyn dorioga ferka sahaga e dan iga na alma Cayso-dai, agus e heuyo kaeh ser  tu, eh Vasr, ina baego fa eh itda. Ingan vas irheo bakdan o vas irheo pasha, ingan vas kona o vas kana, ingan vas saeuna o vas fuath, e talhyn tu vas nunra vasya, na Vasr de Vasryia.” A paean went up once more.

    The royal began to greet the people lined up to see him, grinning and saluting each one. He listened to the stories a group of miners told him about how Draven had begun to focus funds on expansion and conquering nearby planets, leaving their mines in dangerous conditions. Roman promised to look into it as soon as possible and pass safety regulations. He came upon a book club later; the individuals all gave him copies of fairy tales, somehow having learned that when escaping the palace, he and Patton had been unable to take their favorite book of fantasy worlds.

   Patton, having grown up in Vasryia, was also a person of interest and recognition to the crowd; some of the braver children asked if they could touch his antlers, to which he agreed, a great delight among the kids. A few old women offered knitted scarves to all five of them, which they gladly accepted. Cal’s heart felt like it was going to explode from so much affection.

   The last group Roman greeted that day, long after much of the crowd as dispersed and gone home, was a cluster of young children from a nearby orphanage. They were dressed in their finest, albeit plain, clothing, ranging from frilly dresses the color of lollipops to dusty suits to simple white tunics and a pair of trousers. The five of them spent a particularly long time with the children, most of them being orphans themselves.

   Patton was very receptive with the youngest of the children, allowing to climb on top of his back for piggyback rides, and drape handmade garlands and daisy chains across his antlers. Logan recited a few children’s stories he had downloaded  during his time as an android, though very few of the children spoke his interplanetary tongue and understood. Virgil and Cal played pick-up-sticks with some of them, purposefully allowing the children to win. Roman, of course, spoke a bit with the present caretaker before he sat with the children and told them fairytales, weaved flower crowns like his own, and played make-believe.

   The caretaker took out a pocket watch and clapped their hands, garnering the children’s attention. They began to round up the kids, who all groaned in unison as they collected their belongings.

   “Do they have to go?” Cal complained to Roman.

   “I know, I want to adopt them all,” he replied with a pout. “But it’s dinner time, so they have to go.” Roman beamed as he waved goodbye to the kids as they walked back home; one paused and ran back, shoving a crumpled sheet of paper into the royal’s hands.

   “Ekka sona?” Roman asked the little boy, who couldn’t have been any older than six. The boy ducked his head shyly as he wrung his hands.

   “E eayo tu seongu na basta taeya. Madda seun tu kkayeong vas. Haepsu,” he breathed, his eyes the size of the moon. “Tu sa eh laoch.” A nearly inaudible gasp left Roman’s lips as the boy hugged Roman’s legs and ran back to the group.

   “Oi! Ekka alta?” Roman called.

   The kid turned on his heel as he ran, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Kit!”

   “You want to adopt the kid, don’t you?” Patton simpered as Roman nodded vigorously. “He said he saw the whole thing,” Patton translated. “He told us we’re his heros.”

   “I’m going to fucking adopt that kid if it’s the last thing I do,” Virgil declared passionately.

   “Alright, is it party time now?” Cal yelped as Logan hit their head in exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he nodded. “Fuck yeah, let’s get totaled!” they cheered as the five of them at last headed for the revelry.

   They had not expected people to surround them as soon as they walked through the doors, mobbing them with questions and praise and noise. Cal would have gone straight to their room then and there and asked a nearby maid to get them a drink, never to see the light again, if it weren’t for Patton’s grasp on their arm, pulling further into the horde inside the ballroom.

   They said a little prayer for their sanity and put on their best I-don’t-want-to-be-here smile as the others began to greet the mob. For their family, Cal reminded themself, they could do this for their family.

   Cal breathed a sigh of relief when the last guests went away. They hadn’t been able to have a single drink in the time they had been there, which was a problem in Cal’s mind. They rolled their head, working out the kinks in their neck as they spied a waitress walking by with a tray full of fizzy pink drinks. Cal felt themself smirk as they weaved around the crowd for their prize.

   They lost her in the crowd, pushed out of the way by a dancing couple, who apologized profusely, but got them nowhere closer to their cocktail of inhibition. Defeated, they returned to their family, eyes focusing on a shadow behind Roman, gasping as realization struck them.

   An old woman had snuck up behind the Vasryian, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Cal felt for their blade, going numb when they remembered there had been a strict no weapons rule for the coronation’s ceremony and reception. They opened their mouth to warn the royal when the woman suddenly hugged him, squealing.

   “Oh, Roman! You’ve grown!” Roman shrieked in surprise, though the offending noise quickly turned to laughter as he recognized the old lady.

   “Grandma!” he cried with delight as he returned the hug. “Sweet Calypso, I thought… I thought Draven had killed you, too!”

   “Oh, my God, Roman has a grandmother,” Virgil muttered as Logan side-eyed him a silent warning to behave properly.

   “My darling, I may be a Prionsa in name only, but we have the same fighting spirit. I promised I would not fall to that man,” the woman said with a fierce glint in her eyes. Seeing the question in Roman’s eyes, she continued. “Your grandfather did not die at that man’s hands. We hid with my sister on Dageron. He passed on to the heavens peacefully in his sleep some years ago and reunited with Duchess Haaija.” The woman’s eyes grew sad. “You must forgive me, my dear Roman. I’ve held off his funeral in hopes that you and Patton were alive as the guards told me. I thought Iske would like it, if you were there.”

   Roman’s eyes were filled with tears. “I… I don’t know what to say…” He hugged his grandmother tighter, burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Thank you.” The woman outstretched an arm to Patton, who quickly accepted the offer, hugging both of them.

   “From what I researched—” Logan quietly explained to Virgil and Cal, “—Lady Kalopsia married the father of Roman’s mother. His mother’s sister adopted Patton, making him and Roman cousins. It seems all three of them consider each other family despite having no blood relation, like us.”

   Cal chuckled. “Yeah… yeah, like us.”

   Roman and Patton pulled away with damp eyes, Roman wiping away the streams down his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Well, you boys go back to the party, alright? Don’t let an old woman like me stop you from having fun. It’s your coronation day, you should be celebrating!” the old crone said as she pushed her grandsons back towards the festivities.

   “Okay, Grandmama!” Patton acquiesced as he hugged her goodbye. She disappeared into the crowd, just another face among hundreds. Cal watched her go with narrow eyes, truthfully quite jealous of the boys.

   “You good, guys?” Virgil asked, eyebrows upturned in concern. Roman nodded, took Virgil’s hand, and squeezed it, nodding. Roman’s eyes darted up at the crowd, scanning the faces. His eyes lit up with recognition.

   “Vespera!” Roman cried as he noticed a woman pulling a young girl. The woman looked up and broke into a smile as she saw Roman, drawing near despite the girl’s whines. “How are you, dear? It’s been too long,” he greeted as he drew the mysterious woman into a tight hug.

   “It has,” the woman agreed. “I’m doing wonderful, thank you for asking. A little worn out caring for my daughter, Annamer,” she sighed, gesturing to the little girl, who hid behind her mother’s legs as she studied the strangers, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Vespera paused, smile falling. “Did you hear? He tried to invade Dageron during our Festival of Dying Suns.” Roman gasped, shaking his head. “The damn fool thought his petty army stood a chance against ou mages.” The silence grew as all traces of joy disappeared from the Dageronian’s face. “I never thought I’d see you again. Draven told us you had died alongside your parents in a fire at your summer cottage. When I received notice that you to be crowned king, I almost didn’t believe it. It was quite a shock.”

   “Well, here I am, alive and well… I… can’t saw the same for my parents, however.” Roman’s voice broke at the end, his shoulders tensing. Vespera placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

   “They would be very proud of you, Roman. I am very proud of you.” Roman smiled bittersweetly, bowing his head. The woman noticed someone in the crowd and called to them. “Samuel, could you please take Annamer? I think she’s getting cranky, and you can handle her better than I can when she gets testy.” A man quickly came to Vespera, kissing her on the cheek, and took the little girl’s hand, guiding her out of the ballroom.

   Roman seemed to recall his friends were waiting to be introduced to this enigmatic lady and corrected his error. “Vespera, I’d like you to meet the people who helped me throughout my years as an outlaw and who’ve become family to me.”

   “Hello to you all,” Vespera acknowledged, curtsying.

   “You already know Patton,” he said as Patton waved, smiling at the old friend. “This is Logan, the brilliant man who always planned our exploits… even if I never really followed his instructions.” Logan huffed jovially and he bowed his head to Vespera, who curtsied again. “This is Cal, our bold but loveable gunner and leader. They’re the one who inspired us all to take a stand against Draven in the first place.”

   “You’re wings are absolutely gorgeous, my dear,” Vespera commented as she shook Cal’s outstretched hand, her glittering eyes tracing every curve of their wings. Cal gave a curt nod in thanks. “And… who are you?” she asked Virgil, who was staring at the floor, uncomfortable with the attention.

   “I’m Vee,” he mumbled under his breath, shuffling his feet. “I’m Roman’s emaja.” Vespera smiled.

   “I’m Vespera Katriel.” She glanced at Roman, who nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “I… was Roman’s betrothed, once upon a time.” She laughed at Virgil’s surprise and apprehension. “You don’t have to worry, dear. I have my own husband, who I love as much as I’m sure you love yours.”

   “Oh! Oh, we’re not—we’re not married,” Virgil blurted, his face coloring as Vespera hid a snicker behind her hand.

   “Yet,” Logan muttered as Roman’s cheeks turned the same shade as Virgil, who turned in disbelief and smacked his shoulder. Cal snorted loudly, encouraging Vespera to laugh as well. Virgil opened his mouth to spit some witty retort at Logan, when a loud voice interrupted them.

   “Ladies and gentlemen—” Cal bristled, “—we now invite you all to dance at the center of the room. First, however, the king shall perform the ceremonial coronation dance,” the voice announced. Roman cursed quietly.

   “I was never any good at that,” he grumbled as he headed to the center of the ballroom.

   “Vee, you might want to get a good place for this,” Vespera advised, already taking him by the arm and leading him as he spluttered, confused. Never one to miss out on a spectacle, Cal quickly claimed their own spot in the front. Roman was in the center of the circle the crowd had created, head bowed as the multitude hushed, allowing the music to trickle through, a soft piano accompanied by a mellow violin.

   Roman’s eyes were closed as he began to move. He lifted an arm in the air, graceful as the winter winds as he swayed back and forth like a hesitant heart to the music. Roman was nothing less than the evanescent efflorescence of a flower blooming in the dark, a symbol of hope in a boundless void as he danced, spinning and twirling and bending to the will of the melody. Not a soul could drag their eyes away for one second as he danced, some even crying as they watched their long-lost king dance to a tune mournful but proud, bittersweet but hopeful. As the final note ebbed away to a time of what-ifs and yesterdays, Cal, like many others, found themself moved to applause as Roman, grinning despite the flush across his cheeks, bowed deeply.

   “My dear People, friends, and family, I thank you all for celebrating today in my honor. Please, join me in dance and revelry,” Roman announced as the musicians in the back corner stage struck up a jolly tune, one apparently familiar to the Vasryian people who gasped and clapped with recognition and overtook the ballroom in a frenzied, energetic dance. Cal stepped back, bopping their head to the beat as Roman went to Virgil, bowing with his hand outstretched. Though they could not hear the words exchanged between the two, Roman must have delivered another one of his cheesy romantic lines, for Virgil’s face went red and he smacked Roman’s arms despite grinning like the lovesick idiot he was and gladly following Roman to the center as Logan took Patton’s hands and led him in a small waltz and the Drisine laughed, his smile bright as the stars.

   They watched the dancing for a while until they got bored of ogling all the pretty dresses flashing by them in whirls of hues, and retreated to wall, where like-minded people were resting on one of the benches or were simply plastered against the wall in what Cal assumed was a failing attempt to be invisible. They hung out by a vase, the aroma of the flowers nearly overwhelming as they closed their eyes, letting their mind fill with the sound of the piano’s crescendos and diminuendos.

   “Ya seem bored.” Cal was unsurprised at the sound of the mechanic’s voice. They opened their eyes to see her standing in front of them, her waistcoat from earlier gone and two buttons of her top undone. Her face was painted with a faint flush as she nursed an empty wine glass, depositing it on a tray as soon as a waiter got close enough. “Wanna chase away the dog and tell me what this angel hoo diddy is all about?” she asked, gesturing to Cal’s wings. Cal’s face flushed as they laughed awkwardly.

   “Well, I’ve only had them for about a month, so… I don’t really know what’s really going on.” They shrugged, trying to shake off the embarrassment growing in their chest. “I’m, um… not, not what you said… I’m not ‘an angel’. I think.”

   “What are ya, then?” Wonderling smirked. “Besides a kick-ass fighter, I mean.”

   “Logan said I… transformed or something when I touched the Gazer Stone. Apparently, I’m a Stargazer.” Wonderling tilted her head, confused. “You know… the mythical beings who protect the legacy of Calypso and her Generals? ‘Daughters of Calypso and sons of the Guardian’ and all that?” Wonderling shook her head. “It’s—it’s not a big deal, don’t worry about.”

   “Hey, Wonder, I’s wond’rin’ when I’d sees ya!” a man called as he came up from behind them, a pretty young woman’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as he dragged her limp body across the floor. “Ada found the apple jack again. I got’s ‘er a cup of Adam’s ale, but I thinks she just needs a dream before she airs the paunch. Ya thinks ya could give a horse?”

   “Allers, Rowan.” Wonderling took a step forward, taking one arm of the woman and slinging around her own shoulder. “Hey—Rowan, ya never met Cal, have ya? C’mere, I’ll get y’all acquainted with one another. Rowan—Rowan, stick ya hand out, this ain’t Legion!” The man—Rowan—grumbled, but stuck out his hand in a friendly greeting. “Now, Rowan, this is Cal, a friend of the troublemaker boys, though Cal’s much more manageable than the rest of them, battling ancient evils aside.” Cal nodded curtly, firmly shaking Rowan’s almond-colored hand. “And, Cal, this is Rowan, my best friend’s brother—”

   “Hey, I’m yer best friend, too!”

   “Only sometimes, Rowan, sweetie.” Cal hid a giggle behind a cough. “Now, let’s get Ada to bed, how ‘bout it?” Wonderling heaved Ada’s dead weight back onto her, shifting her limp head into a more comfortable position. The mechanic paused, and turned back to Cal. “I wouldn’t wait up for me, Cal. Ada can be a bit much to handle when she’s whittled. Tell the boys I said good night, will ya?”

   “...sure.” Wonderling smiled and thanked them, and started off with Rowan, moving slowly to keep the sleeping woman upright. Cal felt something akin to disappointment settle in their stomach. The mechanic was a beautiful, kind woman, but she had a job—two, actually, two that probably kept her very busy. This was very likely one of the last times Cal would be able to see her, talk freely with her. Unless they did something about it. “Miss—Miss Wonderling?” The mechanic turned around, eyebrows raised. “Would you, um…” Sweet Calypso, it felt like their face was on fire. “...would you like to… to share a glass sometime? I—I know you’re probably very busy and all, but I—”

   “Cal?” They fell silent unhesitatingly, eager to hear their response. She grinned, radiating joy and warmth. “I would love to.” With that, she resumed her assistance again, Rowan and Wonderling continued to guide the unconscious woman to the room where she was staying. Cal sat themself down on a nearby chair, an unbelieving smile on their face.

   Patton came running up to them, his excitement almost touchable. “Cal! Are you enjoying the party?” He quickly downed a tall flute filled with something golden, his cheeks flushing with colors and his eyes glazing just a little bit more as soon as he swallowed the sparkling liquid. “Whoo, that’s strong,” he mumbled. “Are you having fun? I said that before, haven’t I?”

   Cal laughed, taking Patton’s glass and setting it on the tray of a passing waiter. “No more good shit for you, Patton,” they snickered as he pouted, whining at the loss of his liquid oblivion. “And, yeah, I am having fun. It’s been one of the best nights of my life.” They smiled, noticing Roman and Virgil in the center of the room, beneath golden chandelier burning bright with the flames of a thousand candles, their eyes locked as they danced slowly across the floor. “Looks like they’re having fun,” they noted, jutting their head at the lovers.

   Patton smiled softly as he at last sat down next to them, though still extremely energetic, swinging his feet like a child and giggling and hiccuping uncontrollably at random intervals. “Yeah. I’m really happy for them, Cal. Roman and Virgil have both been through so much… they really deserve someone who loves them.”

   “Well, we love them both, right?”

   “We do, but…” Patton’s voice grew a tad more serious, despite his eyelids starting to flutter. “They need someone who will devote their whole being to them. They need something other than friends. I might be fine with family, or people who become like family to us, but Roman, and Virgil, and a lot of other people need someone to hold them and empathize with them and kiss them and love them in a different way. I still don’t really understand it—maybe that’s because I grew up away from my kind—but I’m starting to learn.” Patton’s eyes closed as he leaned against Cal, breathing deeper and slower with each inhale. “I’m really happy for them,” he whispered again as his breathing evened out, eyes staying shut.

   “Patton, if you’re— Oh, well, that’s… alright, let’s get you to bed,” they mumbled as they got up, holding the shapeshifter upright. They tried to lift him up, struggling. Cal let out a defeated sigh. “...I guess we could stay here for a few minutes…” they conceded as they sat back down, maneuvering the Drisine into a much more comfortable position against their shoulder.

   They saw Logan walk by a couple minutes later and called him over so at least they’d have company to conversate with. “What happened to Patton?” he asked, sitting on Patton’s left.

   “He got a little too tipsy, he’ll be fine by the morning.” They chuckled, shaking their head as they thought back on misadventures they had had while drunk. The last time they had had a drink had been at Sleeping Stars. So much had come from that little glass. They spied a waiter passing by and snatched a drink from the tray, downing it in one gulp. At Logan’s raised eyebrow, they teased, “What? Last time I drank enough to actually have courage we ended up dethroning a bastard and making Roman a king. Who knows what will happen this time?” Logan snorted, eyes going wide as he realized the sound he had just made was a laugh.

    Pointing a finger at Cal in an attempt to seem serious, Logan threatened, “If the fact that I just laughed ever makes it way back to Patton, I’ll never let you drink again.” Cal giggled, already feeling the effects of whatever they had just swallowed.

   “Sure, sure.” A thought struck them. “Hey, how much has Virgil had? He’s not good with alcohol either, right?”

   “You’re correct, though I’m surprised you remember that, Cal,” he replied with a hint of admiration.

   “Got to look out for my friends, don’t I?” they contemplated. “Calypso knows where I’d be without you all. Probably would’ve thrown myself into space to fill the black hole inside of me… though I think you guys have done a pretty good job yourselves.” The scholar grinned.

   Logan fell silent, his gaze on the sleeping Drisine. “Who knows where I’d be…” he mulled. “I would still be back home, working with the Guild. I might have actually reprogrammed myself…” He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Look how far we’ve come.”

   They let themselves bask in the comfortable silence, needing no words to speak their friendship. Cal almost fell asleep to Patton’s subtle breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with the music that danced and spun and twirled through the hallways. Their eyes were closed, the darkness behind their eyelids no longer cold and distant, but alive and warm like a summer’s night spent exploring fields of fireflies.

   Cal heard the tread of footsteps approach them and opened their drowsy eyes. Roman and Virgil were standing above them. “Sorry, Cal, did we wake you?” Virgil asked.

   “Nah, I was just… resting my eyes…”

   “...Whatever you say, Cal,” Virgil snickered. “It’s suffocating in here, how about we move into the gardens?” Cal nodded, wordlessly standing up, Logan helping them to bring a sleeping Patton to his feet. “Want me to bring him to his room?” Virgil offered.

   Cal waved it off, saying, “It’s fine, I’ll just sit him down on a bench outside. Wouldn’t want you to miss a second of your lover’s coronation party.” Virgil blushed, swatting Cal’s arm playfully.

   The five went outside, where only a few guests milled about in the shadows. Fairy lights decorated the silhouettes of trees, each little spark a different color. It was dark out, stars creeping out of their daylight sleep to shimmer dazzlingly, painting the heavens with life. The shadows of roses and weeping trees seemed to move in the low light, their spirits laughing together and dancing in the firelight of the moon.

   “I’ll miss living among the stars,” Roman whispered, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s side, pulling him close.

   “I’m really going to miss our days of swashbuckling outlawing,” Virgil mused, resting his head on the royal’s collarbone. “I suppose Vasryia has laws against stealing goods and fighting every asshole you come across?” he asked Roman.

   “Fortunately, yes, we do,” he laughed. “Though, I certainly agree, I will miss having complete and utter freedom from responsibilities and consequences and whatnot. But, who knows? Maybe we’ll have some adventures with time.”

   “Oh, please,” Cal snorted with merriment. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be on another adventure before we even know it.” For a moonlit moment, their eyes glowed silver as the clouds, perhaps just a reflection of the lights strung about the gardens, or perhaps but an auspice. “I just hope you’ll be willing to listen.”

Translation of the Vasryian language:

“Eh saeuna fa eh saegha iwa oen na ise Cayso, kirō e talhyn viosa i fa fērka-dai e gal. Mae na Garda yaesen na alma reaga eh noma sha da eh uoye haseo fai na sasha de eh Vasr.” (“My love for my country shall be as high as the heart of Calypso, which I promise to live in for every day I breathe. May the generals rip the soul out of my body if ever my eyes stray from the good of my People.”)

“E reja na alma Cayso!” “E reja na alma Garda! E reja na alma Saeona!” (“I invoke the spirit of Calypso!” “I invoke the spirit of the Generals! I invoke the spirit of the Guardian!”)

“E sa tu ren!” (“I am your king!”)

“E fauna tu hanna fai na meoso de na alda fa na saeuna agus talta tu chaka yai e na saga lune sa cayse de na fin de na ren-vio de eh babusha venna. E talhyn dorioga ferka sahaga e dan iga na alma Cayso-dai, agus e heuyo kaeh ser  tu, eh Vasr, ina baego fa eh itda. Ingan vas irheo bakdan o vas irheo pasha, ingan vas kona o vas kana, ingan vas saeuna o vas fuath, e talhyn tu vas nunra vasya, na Vasr de Vasryia.” (“I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you have shown me this past month in light of the end of tyrannical reign of my late uncle. I promise to uphold every oath I took before the spirit of the heavens, and I swear to always put you, my People, in the forefront of my mind. Whether we face hardship or we face peace, whether we rise or we fall, whether we love or we hate, I promise to you we shall do it together, as the people of Vasryia.”)

“Ekka sona?” (“What’s this?”)

“E eayo tu seongu na basta taeya. Madda seun tu kkayeong vas. Haepsu.” (“I saw you fight a big black monster. Mistress says you saved us. Thank you.”)

“Tu sa eh laoch.” (“You’re my hero.”)

“Oi! Ekka alta?” (“Hey! What’s your name?”)

“Kit!” (“Kit!”)

and just like that, a legend ends

ha, who am i kidding? Starbound has closed it covers, and I couldn’t be more happy! Over a year and a half was devoted to this brainchild of mine, and I’m ecstatic to have finally finished and been able to have shared it with you all!

I’ll be honest with you all, I am seriously considering trying to publish Starbound. Naturally, it would be heavily revised (and most of it would probably be deleted but oh well) and all the names would be changed. What do you guys think? Should I try to get Starbound published?

To end, thank you. Even if you only read the original post with the headcanons, or if you’ve read every single chapter. Thank you. You’re interactions and enthusiasm are the reasons I kept writing. If it were any other story, I would have abandoned it within two chapters and moved on to another story that would also end up discarded. But you guys kept me going, and now I can proudly state that I’ve finished a novel. So, despite the fact that I always say this, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you guys! <3

tag list:

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@v-blue-writer

@sanderssidesstuff

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 12

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating

Author’s Note: People that are in my tag list have been saying that they have not been getting the notifications that I’ve tagged them whenever I post a new part. I know it may sound harsh, but there’s really nothing that I can do about it. I’m not sure why Tumblr doesn’t allow some people to be tagged, but I have no idea on how to fix it. Anyways, I know this chapter is a little bare bones but that’s because the next two chapters are gonna be a ride loves lol I hope you guys enjoy it!

Everyone has those moments in their life where they have to admit that maybe, they’ve bitten off a little bit more than they can chew. Jimin has had many of these moments throughout his 25 years of life.

Being Chief of Naval Operations and being in charge of hundreds of men and being responsible for their lives on a daily basis provided Jimin with that feeling often. Hell, that feeling is part of what spurred him to take the job as Head of Security for you and Namjoon; in his way of thinking, it would be easier to be responsible for the lives of two people rather than hundreds. However, he never had to worry about falling in love and that potentially making it hard for him to do his job before, until he met you. 

Jimin couldn’t tell if he was in love with you or not. He loved being around you, because you ended up being so much different than what he had thought you’d be. You were funny, and sweet, and one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life (besides his mother and Hana). You also were the strongest person he knew, replacing even himself because he still hasn’t been able to wrap his mind around how you deal with the whole “arrangement” thing. Also, he had never fallen for someone as quickly as he had for you; not even his ex-fiancee, so it kind of scared him.  

Despite how much Jimin liked you though, the obvious situation between you and Namjoon gave him pause, and rightfully so. While Jimin genuinely cared for you and found himself falling more for you everyday, he didn’t know if he’d be willing to wait another four and a half years until Namjoon’s term as President was up. If he did, that would mean four and a half years of sneaking around, not being able to show you off, and of having to tip toe around your husband. Jimin had always known that though; Hell, he knew it when he kissed you for the first time at the marketplace. It didn’t really hit him though, until Namjoon threatened him.

Threats didn’t bother Jimin. He was a fucking Naval Chief, for crying out loud. If it ever came to it, he knew he could kick Namjoon’s ass with no issues. The issue was that Jimin didn’t want to have to deal with that for four and a half more years. He didn’t want there to be this sense of competition between the two of them because in Jimin’s eyes, there was no competition. He was obviously the better choice, but how do you compete with someone’s husband, even if they are trash?

And these thoughts are what caused Jimin to kind of back off you a little bit. You guys were still talking and seeing each other almost every day, but there weren’t as many hugs, not as many kisses. Despite how much Jimin cared for you, he had already been hurt once and he was going to do his best not to let it happen again, his feelings be damned. 

“Park,” Namjoon called out and Jimin shook his head as he broke out of his thoughts and looked over at the President. Today, Namjoon was dedicating a new park that was built in memory of a fallen soldier in the Army. The whole occasion was very visible in terms of press, and there were many notable figures in Korea that were present. 

“Yes Sir?” Jimin replied.

“Make sure that you’re paying attention,” Namjoon told him firmly, and Jimin nodded in affirmation. “As soon as the speech is over, we’ll be saying hello to a few people and then leaving straight after.”

“Yes Sir,” Jimin repeated and Namjoon turned around, letting another one of the security guards lead him behind the stage. You then turned to Jimin once Namjoon was out of earshot, giving him a small, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry about him,” you said. “He’s been an even bigger dick than usual lately. I think it’s the farmer's crisis.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Jimin shrugged, looking down at his watch and you frowned lightly at his dismissive tone.

“Hey, you ok?” You asked softly, moving closer to him and letting your hand brush against his. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” he told you, looking up at you and setting his hand on your lower back. “The speech is about to start so we need to get you to your seat.” You let him lead you down the steps and down into the seating area where all the guests were, plastering a fake smile onto your face as you waved to several of Namjoon’s colleagues. 

.................................................

If someone had asked you what Namjoon discussed in his dedication speech, you’d have no idea how to respond to them and that’s because your mind was preoccupied. Something was wrong, and you knew it. Jimin wasn’t necessarily acting different towards you, but he was indifferent and that rubbed you the wrong way. 

Once the speech was over and all of the guests present began to mingle, you were talking to the wife of the National Assembly leader when Namjoon stepped over to you.

“Hey, I ran into some old friends so we’re all going to go to lunch and catch up,” Namjoon informed you. “Did you want to come?”

“Um, I think I’ll go back to the House actually,” you smiled. “The benefit is in three days and I need to make sure everything’s in place.”

“Of course,” Namjoon nodded, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “Jimin’s gonna see you home and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Ok, be safe,” you told him and he smiled and nodded before turning and walking away.

“The two of you are such a beautiful couple,” Jisoo, the National Assembly leader’s wife gushed and you just chuckled. 

“Thank you Jisoo-ssi. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be heading out now,” you said. “I do hope that I’ll see you Saturday at the benefit.”

“Absolutely,” Jisoo nodded. “I’ll be bringing my husband and his wallet.”

“Perfect,” you laughed, leaning over and kissing her cheek before waving and walking away from her to find Jimin, who was standing near the stage that had been set up for Namjoon to give his speech.

“Ready to go?” Jimin guessed before you could even say anything and you nodded your head.

“Beyond,” you murmured, expecting Jimin to at least chuckle at that but he just spoke some words into his earpiece before gesturing for you to walk in front of him. You just did as he wanted, making your way through the large crowd of guests and saying your goodbyes before you and Jimin made it to the front of the park, where your large limousine was waiting.

“After you,” Jimin said as he opened the door and held it for you, waiting for you to slide inside before he did the same and shut the door behind him.

“Just back to the Blue House,” Jimin told your driver, who nodded and rolled up the partition for you.

“I’m exhausted,” you whined, reaching down and pulling your high heels off of your feet. 

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Jimin questioned and you shook your head.

“I did, but not much,” you admitted. “I’ve just been so anxious about the benefit, especially since it’s the first event that I’m spearheading as First Lady.”

“It’ll be fine Y/N-ah,” he assured you, reaching over and patting your knee lightly. “You’ve gone over every detail with painstaking accuracy.”

“I hope so,” you huffed with a smile but the smile promptly went away when Jimin dropped his hand away from your knee. “Jimin, are we ok?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jimin nodded but he didn’t look at you when he said it, and that kind of set you off.

“Jimin, don’t do this,” you snapped and Jimin looked up at you in surprise. 

“Don’t do what?” He questioned.

“I’m already married to a man who doesn’t talk to me about things, I don’t want that with you too,” you muttered softly and Jimin’s eyes widened.

“No no no,” he tutted, moving closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, reveling in his touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“Then why haven't you been talking to me?” You demanded gently. 

“I wanted to give you time to think,” he replied and your brows furrowed in confusion. “And give myself time to think too.”

“Think about what?”

“About us,” he said. “I know that you don’t want to be with Namjoon anymore but you also said that you aren’t sure how to get out of it, and I don’t know if I’d be willing to wait for four and a half more years.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” You wondered.

“Because I didn’t want you thinking that I’m having second thoughts about what we’ve been developing,” he said, reaching over with his free hand and grabbing yours, intertwining your fingers with his. “My feelings for you are serious baby bird, and I just wanted to make sure that I was comfortable with it.”

“Because of my situation and your ex?” You asked/guessed and Jimin nodded.

“Developing feelings for a new person after you break up with someone that you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with is hard,” Jimin admitted. “I know that it’s taken a lot for you to be able to feel like you can trust me after everything that’s happened between you and Namjoon, but it’s taken a lot for me to be able to trust you too.”

“And I recognize that,” you nodded, taking your hand away from his and gently grabbing his chin. “I hope you realize that I don’t take your trust in me lightly.”

“I know you don’t,” Jimin smiled softly. 

“And my feelings for you are just as serious,” you confessed, a shy smile on your lips. “You’ve made me fall for you, Park Jimin.”

“Yeah?” He whispered and as soon as he registered the nodding of your head, he smashed his lips onto yours. Moaning in surprise, you moved your hand from his chin and set it on his neck as you kissed him back.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You asked against his lips and he pulled away from you.

“Nothing much, since I’m off duty,” he told you. “Why?”

“How about if I come to your place tomorrow night and show you just how serious about you I really am?” You suggested and Jimin’s breathing visibly became uneven. “I guess that’s a yes?”

“That’s a fuck yes,” he replied breathlessly, making you laugh. “As much as I’d love it that though, don’t you have another event with Namjoon tomorrow night?”

“I can make up an excuse,” you replied immediately. “Say that I’m sick or something. I could say anything really and Namjoon probably wouldn’t even question it.”

“If you’re sure,” he relented and you grinned, leaning over and kissing him again. And that’s how the two of you stayed for the rest of the ride back to the Blue House, pressed up against each other in the backseat with passionate kisses and wandering hands. 

“Jimin, we’re here,” you giggled, the feeling of Jimin leaving kisses on your neck tickling your skin. 

“You sure about tomorrow night?” He double checked as he pulled away from your neck to look at you, and you nodded.

“More than sure,” you promised, pressing a quick peck to his lips before you bent down and quickly slipped your heels back on. He then turned around and opened the door, getting out of the limousine and holding the door open for you as you slid out. Once he shut the door, the two of you walked up the steps of the Blue House together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You said and Jimin smiled.

“Absolutely. I l-,” he almost told you but he caught himself, trying to ignore the suspicious look you gave him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye Jimin,” you giggled, giving him a quick wink before you turned around and opened the front door, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. Jimin let out a breath that he hadn’t even know he was holding, his shoulders sagging when the reality of what he had almost let slip out of his mouth began to set in.

“God, I’m loosing my fucking mind over her,” Jimin chuckled, running both of his hands over his face as he turned and walked back down the steps, his mind wrapping around the fact that he now had the answer to whether he loved you or not. 

......................................................

Tag List:  @toddsgirl27 @leftieaquarius @joyfulkmusicfan @jennyjq @xcharlottemikaelsonx @pop228 @belatona @babebri144 @dragonqueen01 @paolaa9700 @yiarsan @sunshinein17 @daydreambrliever @lyralefayc @weirdestpersoninearth @peachesandcreamsthings @missseoulite @ramengrace @minyoongi-infiresme @0minabean0 @korkanswers @dchimminie @mysr3 @emily2404xx @leilalago @vonvi-blog @btsxdoll @heartfeltscribblings @nooooooooona @eternalmoonji @lyralefay @jikooksgirl19 @cloudbuffalo​ @moonsjoons @kjooniesbabygirl​

[soujun-arts]

Case 4 : Cupcake Madness

Reginald’s 4th Case ! English isn’t my first language so bear with me.

You can read the previous cases @ /~SilverBaron

Neovia, 15:30

I'm laying in my bed, staring at the roof of my room. I've been stuck in there for 3 long and boring days already and it doesn't look like it will be over anytime soon... My name is Reginald Acorn, I'm 20, a grey gelert and I'm currently fighting a cold. I'm a detective working for the police force of Neovia. Three days ago, the boss and I had to hide in front of the abandoned asylum to catch all sorts of thieves, including the most annoying one you can think of. And by the looks of it, thieves aren't the only things I caught that night ... But, the good news is, we were able to recover a stolen locket and give it back to Vincent Von Verzweiflung. The look on his face when he saw the "treasure" inside was well worth this nasty cold. I'm getting all emotional just by thinking of it !

It reminds me of how I miss Mama ... When I was young and sick, she would make me the most delicious of cocoa with some marshmallow floating in it. It was delicious and helped distract me from whatever sickness I was suffering under at that time...

A loud knock on my door makes me go back to reality. The doors opens to reveal an enormous darigan skeith, engulfed in tightly fitted trench-coat. A hat is deeply screwed on his head, letting only small tufts of grey hair around the sides of his head show.

_"Oh good, you're still alive kid !" he says, laughing loudly and slapping his stomach.

_"My wife made this soup for you. It's extra spicy but it should help free your stuffed nose." he grumbles as he lays down the bright red tureen on my table.

This tall and heavy Skeith is my boss, "Big Skeith". His name is actually Marcus Worsley but everyone calls him Big Skeith at the station so being the new guy, I just went with the flow. He's a bit rude, has a very loud mouth but I assure you that you could never hope for a better chief of police. He also kind of became a father figure for me since I've never met my own father... I respect him a whole lot ! _"Oh, almost forgot, I also got you this, kid." he says as he puts down a small green bottle on my night-stand. "Should help fight the cold, at least, that's what the pharmacist told me. And if it doesn't work, I can always arrest him!" Big cackles at his own joke like it was the funniest thing he ever said. I smile, not because of the joke, but because I'm genuinely happy he's there for me.

_"Okay, I must leave now, I have a job to do yaknow. I'll stop by later tomorrow to check on you kiddo, so sleep well and eat like there's no tomorrow. See ya !" he yells as he storms out of my flat. Big's appearances are always something.

I taste Big's wife's soup and it's absolutely delicious. No wonder he keeps on praising her cooking everyday ! I'll have to ask him to thank her for me, when he comes back to check on me. It really is spicy though, I thought, fighting the tears coming in my eyes. I glance at the medicine bottle ... I've always hated medicine and mama had to trick me with cookies every single time to get me to take them. The bottle is really pretty and the liquid is bubbling inside. The eagerness to go back to my cases is stronger than my disgust for medicines. I drink a spoonful of it and promptly go back to sleep.

Neovia, 7:15 am

I let out a big yawn and stretch while still laying in bed. The pharmacist kept his promises as I really feel fresh and ready to tackle whatever challenge comes my way ! The only weird thing is that I don't feel hungry at all, and if you know me, you know I always crave a huge breakfast. Thinking nothing more of it, I jump in the shower and let the warm water drench my fur. I wash my grey hair that is a bit sticky for some reason, plus it really needs a trim, they're getting way too long...

Once I've dried myself, I dress with my usual work attire and feel tremendous joy at the thought of finally being able to get back to work. I step outside and let the freezing air fill my lungs. Yes, to another awesome day of investigation !

Neovia, 8:00am

_"Oh hey kid, you're back !" shouts Big as I enter the police station. "Guess that potion and the soup worked well uh ?" _"Yes, they did ! Thank you for taking care of me boss ! And please thank your wife for me, she really is a talented cook !

_"Ahaha, I know, right !! Well, since you're up and ready, how about you join Lenny. He's going to investigate a theft and break-in at the Crumpet Monger.

_"Sure boss ! I'll be going !"

I've never had the occasion to work with Lenny before. Lenny is, well, a Lenny. He's a weird mix of faerie and grey colours and looks always completely depressed. Maybe it's the fact that he is bald that makes him so upset ? He's very nonchalant and walks as fast as snail. He also speaks in a monotonous voice and I always feel like sleeping when I hear him talk.

Neovia, 9:00am

Finally, I can see the Crumpet Monger ! The shop is actually only 20 mins away by foot from the station but Lenny being so slow, it almost took us a WHOLE hour to get there. And since I'm still the newbie, I can't say anything. The Crumpet Monger shop is relatively small but it sells the best baked goods in all Neovia ! A cupcake is drawn right over the porch roof, and just underneath, an elegant door that opens upon a world of delicious treats ! As we get closer, I can see that the door was fractured but the frontage is thankfully intact. Lenny pushes the door and a bell rings inside. We were standing in the entrance when a mountain of hair came rushing out of the kitchen like a storm. Underneath all that hair, a meerca.

_"Oh so yer finally here ! Thank goodness ! As yer can see, we were robbed last night. All ther cakes, scones, pies, tarts and everything in between, gone !" she shrieks, visibly upset.

_"I see." ponders Lenny, completely out of it. _"Did they steal anything else, like the cash register ?" I asked, ready to do my job.

_"Well, yer see, no they didn't. They only stole and ate whatever we had in there.

But ... shouldn't the shop be empty of pastries during the night since you make fresh ones everyday ?" I say, pointing at a small sign saying so by the counter.

_"Oh yer, we do ! In these kind of jobs, we work at lot at night. My main baker was working tonight, made a whole storm of pastries yer see to set the shop for ther morning. He then left for a short while to see our supplier as per usual yer see. It was during that short time ther shop was ransacked." she lets her arm fall flat on her sides. "We lost a lot of money tonight yer see...

_"I'm very sorry Mrs Crumpet. We will do our best to wrap up things quickly so you can re-open again. Would it be possible to talk with your main baker ?"  I glance at Lenny as I speak, hoping he would step in to take the reigns but he was busy dozing off with a bubble popping out of his beak. Charming.

_"Sure yer can darling ! Aaron please come yer !" she shouts.

Coming out of the kitchen, wiping his hands covered in flour on a towel, a young Maraquan Gelert. He's of average height, has a long and weird tail with a, what, fin on it ? He is purple and his hair, which kinda look like algae, is greenish. He wears a big cooking hat on his head and a fancy looking uniform with a star on it. Around his neck, a red neckerchief.

He holds out his hand and I shake it amicably, this guy seems to be really friendly.

_"Hello, name's Reginald Acorn and here's my colleague Lenny Dot. We're here to investigate and we'd like to hear what you have to say please.

_"Thanks for coming, both of you. My name is Aaron Watson, I'm the main baker here. I think you won't have much trouble finding the culprit.

Really ? How so ?" my ears rising up in surprise.

_"Look at this, they left their prints all over the display cases. Should be easy enough to find, no ?

I get closer to the case and indeed, Aaron was telling the truth, you could see distinct prints all over it. I glance at the few leftover cupcakes there, suddenly feeling hungry.

_"Hmm yes, this is all very importance evidence...

_"Hey Regie, I hope you're talking about the prints and not the cupcakes" cackles Lenny, suddenly awake.

_"Of course I am !" I yell angry he found me out. "Dust for the prints instead of dozing off, that'd be helpful" I say, still sulking.

Alright, alright, let the pro do his job baby." he shouts proudly while holding a weird pose, showing off.

_"I really hope you catch that thief, but in all those short years I've worked here, it's really the first time this happens.." adds Aaron, rubbing his chin with his hand, still in disbelief.

_"No offence here, but you seem really chill for someone who had all his hard work eaten without being paid for...

_"Oh, that's because he took out his anger on yer poor innocent dough sweetheart" giggles Mrs Crumpet.

_"Boss, please !"

_"Okay I'm done dusting the prints and taking pictures here" says Lenny, striking another weird pose. "We will have the results tomorrow or so, so you can get cleaning your fantastic shop my beautiful darling." he adds, kissing Mrs Crumpet hand in a what I assume was supposed to be a gentlemen like gesture.

_"Oh, Oh, my, my, what a charming gentleman you are Mr Dot !" says Mrs Crumpet, blushing.

_"Urhg, disgusting." whispers Aaron while laughing slightly. "Then, I'll get back to work, thank you for coming."

Neovia 13:30

I'm sitting at my desk, eating my sandwich. It took us forever to get back here, as Lenny took his sweet, sweet time. Sometimes I really wonder how come this guy still had a job considering how slow he is in everything he does, but Big told me that he's the best when it comes to little details and all the other stuff we tend to overlook. He's currently studying the prints we found and comparing them to the files we have. Whenever someone decides to move in Neovia, they're obligated to give their prints as well, I'm not really sure why, but I guess after being a cursed town for years, they prefer to use some caution. I had to do it too when I filed all the paperwork in the City Hall. I swallow the last bite of my meal when Lenny comes rushing out from the lab and sprint right into the boss's office. How weird it is to see someone as slow as a snail go as fast as a cybunny ... I guess he did find something. Not two minutes later, Big yells for me to come to his office right now. Why do I feel like I'm not gonna like this ?

_"Kid, we have a match for the prints you guys found." says Big, dropping the file on his desk. He turns around to face the window, turning his back to Lenny and I. "The culprit is a Gelert.

_"Oh, really ? Is it that annoyingly annoying jewel thief ? Though, I wonder why he would steal cupcakes..." I say, rubbing my cheek.

_"No, praise Fyora, this guy is innocent for once. Though, I wish it was him right about now...

Knowing how Big despises that thief, I feel the anxiety rushing through my body.

_"That thief never leaves any prints behind, that's why we have so much trouble identifying him... Reginald, don't you have anything you want to say to me ?" he says calmly, turning back to face me again.

_"No.. I don't understand, I haven't done anything wrong..

_"Kid, the prints are yours. Your prints are all over the display cases of the Crumpet Monger shop. Lenny even found some grey hairs that belong to you on the scene, hair that were covered in frosting. You are the cupcake thief." he looks at me, visibly disappointed.

_"But ... I haven't left my flat yesterday.." I cry, upset I could tarnish my reputation this way. "I ate the soup you brought me, took the medicine as well and went to bed. I swear I didn't do anything wrong..."  I state, still sobbing. Disappointing Big is one of the last things I want to do...

_"Look Kid, I know you, I know you're not a thief nor a liar. There has to be an explication, and we will find it." he says, putting his clawy hand on my shoulder. "Oh and wipe your nose, I don't want any snot on my desk!" he adds, smiling snarkily. "Let's go on a walk, I think you need some fresh hair. Thanks Lenny for your work, you can go back in the lab work on whatever you have left to do."

Neovia 14:00

_"Okay, let's go to the pharmacy and see what the guy has to say. I don't feel like you're lying like I said, but how come every evidence found incriminates you..." he grumbles as we walk in the main street.

_"I don't know, I'm really lost here... I don't remember a thing, but I do recall not feeling hungry this morning and my hair being sticky when I woke up." I follow him, looking at my shoes, still feeling shameful.

_"We're here." he says as he pushes the door open.

_"Oh hey it's you !" points a young Zafara with his head full of blond and spiky hair. "How is it doing man ?

_"I'm not your man, kid.

_"Yeah, yeah, what can I do for ya ?

_"I want "ya" to tell me more about this medicine I got from you yesterday. Are there any side effects I should have been told about when you gave it to me ?" asks Big, pushing his finger into the zafara's coat.

_"It was groovy eh man ?!" he says, still pointing his fingers at us. "I think I'm gonna slap some sense into this idiot, if you know what I mean." whispers Big in my ear.

Oh, Oh...

_"Stop being such a moron Arnold !" yells a middle-aged Kacheek, hitting his head with a stack of paper. "Ugh, I swear to Fyora, you're really an idiot. Please excuse my employee sirs. What can I do for you ?

Big Skeith, after a glance at my pathetic face, decides to explain the situation to the Kacheek himself. She closes her eyes as she listens to him. _"Uh, Uh, I see. I do have an explanation for you, I believe. Did you wife happen to add some clawmatoes in her soup ?

_"Yes, it's one of her favourite things to put in there. Why ? Is there an issue with it ?

_"As stupid as it sounds, yes actually. I do not know the full details, but they contain some enzymes or something that react quite badly with the cold medicine your friend here took. They can induce sleepwalking tendencies and cravings when mixed together. Since the poor guy doesn't remember a thing, I believe that's what happen. What were the odds though ?

_"I see, thank you Ma'am ! Please keep slapping some sense into your apprentice.

_"I will good sir, have a nice day, sorry for the trouble !

Neovia 14:30

_"Wait for me here, I won't be long kid." says Big gently slapping my shoulder as he opens the door of the Crumpet Monger shop.

I'm leaning against the façade, still unsure about what's going to happen. Am I going to got to jail ? How are Mrs Crumpet and Mr Watson going to react ? They seem really nice to me and I really don't want them to hate me. As I'm wondering what's going to happen, I hear the bell and the door opens. It's Aaron.

_"Rough day, eh ?" he says as he leans against the shop next to me.

_"Yeah, pretty much. I assume you know everything." I whisper, still full of shame.

_"Yes, I do."

The sharp answer makes me shiver, but I didn't feel any anger in it. _"Look, as upset as I am, we know it's not your fault. Your boss said he was going to pay for the damaged door.

_"Really ? But what about the cupcakes, I mean, I ate all your stock...

_"You sure did!" he cries in laughter. "I can't believe you ate all that without feeling sick, you have some strong stomach kid !

_"Hey, don't call me kid, you're barely older than I am !" I manage to utter as I start to laugh with him.

_"Now that's better ! We have agreed on something with your boss. We're not gonna ruin a promising career, so hear me out. When you're not working your usual job, you'll come and work part time with us, that includes cleaning, deliveries, tasting my new recipes and other little things. That's how you're going to pay your debt to us. Does that sound fair to you ?" he grins.

_"You bet, thank you so much !" I say sobbing, finally relieved from the tension in my shoulders.

Neovia 21:30

I lay down my pen on my desk. I desperately needed to write a letter to mama to tell her everything. After that chat with Aaron, we came back inside the shop were Mrs Crumpet gave me a delicious crêpe to cheer me up. We ended up having a good laugh over this unlikely story and I'm going to start working part time with them tomorrow. I'm really eager to make it up to them. Once again, Big Skeith was there for me, and I can't thank him enough. He talked food with Mrs Crumpet during what felt like an eternity but it was a peaceful moment. As for Aaron, despite him being rightfully angry for his destroyed goods, he opened up to me and showed me how passionate he is about his job. I felt like we were the same on that point. I really wish I can become his friend because I really enjoyed his company. I better go to bed now, I have quite a doozy of a day tomorrow !

[andthest0ryg0es]

Do You Really Want Me - Chapter 30

Izzy is quiet on the ride from her house to his, scrolling through social media, wondering why Jared pushed her away. “He doesn’t want me,” Izzy texts Kate.

“He left? We’re on our way to his place for dinner now,” Kate responds immediately.

“We’re in the car. He kissed me. I wanted him. He didn’t want me.”

“Did he say he didn’t?”

“He wouldn’t let me touch him and said we needed to leave,” she texts back quickly.

“Who are you texting so frantically over there?” Jared asks, reaching across the car to squeeze her thigh.

“Why don’t you want me?” Izzy blurts out, without thinking, tossing her phone in her purse.

“What?” Jared questions, oblivious to her thoughts. “Babe, why would you think that I don’t want you? Of course I do. Are you crying again?”

“No. Yes. You kissed me. I wanted more. You wouldn’t let me touch you,” Izzy explains, breaking down once more.

Jared quickly pulls the car over onto the shoulder, slamming it into park. “Look at me,” he orders. “Let’s get one thing straight right now,” he tells her, softening his tone and wiping her tears away. “I want you every day. I want you now. I’ll want you tomorrow when you’re standing over the coffee press and everyday after that. Iz, I love you.” Izzy glares at him, unhappy with his response and bites at her lip. “What?”

“Sex, Jared. Make up sex. It’s kind of our thing,” Izzy cries out. “You didn’t want me.”

“Ohhhh, I did but I didn’t want to rush it,” he tells her honestly, trying to fight his smile. “Trust me when I say it was very hard.” Jared kisses Izzy’s lips tenderly when her eyes flicker to the bulge in his pants. “Don’t be dirty, princess.” Izzy giggles and kisses him again, quickly, licking her lips. “Later, I promise.”

When Izzy and Jared pull up at his place Shannon’s jeep is already inside the garage. Izzy hops out of the car, darting inside the house. She runs right past Shannon and everyone else still working and straight to Kate, who is opening a bottle of wine. “No! If I can’t you can’t,” Izzy tells her, leaning over the glass and taking in the scent of the wine. “I can have a sip, right?”

“No!!!!!” Shannon and Jared shout simultaneously. Kate pushes Izzy’s nose from inside her glass.

“Self respect,” Kate suggests, holding back her laughter. “Let me get you a nice bottle of water.”

“I hate all of you!” Izzy pouts, hopping onto a barstool.

Jared walks around wrapping his arms around Izzy’s waist and kissing her cheek. “She’s been a bit m-o-o-d-y today,” he tells Kate and Shannon, trying to make her smile.

Shannon laughs loudly, hushing it immediately when Izzy glares at him. “You’re so pretty, Iz,” Shannon tells her, smiling goofily and hiding behind Kate.

“Pregnancy hormones are a real thing guys,” Kate says, practically forcing herself between Izzy and Jared, running her hand down her friend’s back. “Leave her alone. She’s had an emotional week.” Jared kisses Kate’s cheek and nudges her ribs lightly, reminding her that he’s got Izzy’s back.

“Hey, I can hear you talking about me,” Izzy tells both Kate and Jared. “I’m not ‘m-o-o-d-y’. Why don’t you try having everyone around you point out everything you can’t have,” Izzy snarls at Jared. “It just sucks,” she mumbles, leaning her back against Jared’s chest. Jared tightens his grip around Izzy, holding her tight and kissing her face repeatedly until she laughs.

Shannon places a small gift bag on the bar and slides it over to Jared and Izzy. “What’s that?” Jared asks, leaning over the bar to peer into the bag.

“Just open it,” Shannon insists, his eyes full of pride. “It’s for the baby,” Shannon says excitedly as Jared picks the bag up, immediately handing it to Izzy to open. Izzy pulls a tiny t shirt from the bag emblazoned with a pair of sunglasses that says “COOL LIKE MY UNCLE” on the front.

“That’s so small,” Jared sounds frightened but Izzy rushes around the bar throwing her arms around Shannon, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, Uncle Shannon,” she tells him with a giant smile on her face. Shannon holds her in a bear hug and they both look at Jared carefully examining the tiny garment.

“Imagine if I had given you guys the shoes I found,” Shannon laughs, wiggling his eyebrows as Jared finally looks up at the two of them.

“What’s for dinner?” Kate asks, taking Izzy’s hand and slowly pulling her from Shannon’s arms. Jared and Shannon glare at each other from across the bar, silently conversing about dinner while the girls sneak out of the room together.

Kate pulls Izzy towards one of their favorite couches and they plop down. “You sure you’re okay?” Kate asks, smoothing Izzy’s hair off her shoulder.

“I’m fine, Kate. You don’t have to worry so much,” Izzy assures her, holding her friend’s hand in her lap as they cross their ankles on the coffee table like they always do.

“I’m always gonna worry. That’s my job. Now I get to worry for two of you,” she says, running her hand across Izzy’s stomach.

“He loves me,” Izzy tells her. “He’s a moron, but he loves me,” she says laughing.

The guys emerge from the kitchen with plates of food in their hands and set them on the dining table but the girls are too wrapped up in their bubble again to notice. Jared smiles seeing Izzy happily wrapped up in Kate’s arms and legs again. “Is it wrong that I still find that hot, now that Kate’s technically my sister in law?” he asks Shannon, pointing towards the girls as Kate places a kiss on Izzy’s shoulder.

Shannon smacks him upside the head. “That’s my wife, man,” he protests, but then breaks into a huge smile. “But they are still hot,” he admits. “Girls, time for dinner,” Shannon calls out to the girls from where they’re standing.

“Omg, that smells amazing,” Izzy says loudly, pulling Kate up from the couch with her and dragging her into the dining room.

“Iz, it’s pizza. They ordered pizza,” Kate laughs, shaking her head as they walk through the room.

“Hey, if I cooked my unborn child would be homeless,” Jared deadpans, grabbing Izzy by the waist as she walks by.

“I still have a house,” she nudges him with her elbow, kissing his cheek.

“Barely, I nearly burnt it down last night. Better safe than sorry.” Jared tries to fake a pout but Izzy quickly captures his lips in a sweet kiss that they are both automatically lost in.

Kate rolls her eyes at their affection, “Okay you two, I’m sure you’ve done enough of that in the last 24 hours.”

“We haven’t actually,” Izzy pokes her lip out, not wanting to take her eyes off Jared when they finally break apart.

“Soon,” Jared whispers his promise, pulling her to sit with him at the table instead of where he’d initially sat her plate, whispering his love for her over and over again in her ear as she engages in conversations with Shannon and Kate.

“So, Jared what do you think you’ll do when that baby starts moving around in there, poking out of her stomach like an alien trying to escape,” Kate asks, completely ignoring the look of horror on Izzy’s face.

“Wait. What?” Izzy questions.

Kate continues, “Iz, you don’t remember when we were in college and that bimbo in your sorority got knocked up. I thought that thing was gonna come out of her stomach. That shit is what made me decide never to have kids,” Kate explains with her hands. Shannon feels a sudden chill that makes him him jump out of his seat in disgust at the thought.

Jared wraps his arms tighter around Izzy’s waist, protectively embracing her stomach with a smile on his face. “I’ll sing him back to sleep after I record it to show my brother over and over again,” Jared says with complete confidence.  “You aren’t scaring me Kate. I’ve been doing my research. I know what to expect.”

“We’ll see about that when it actually happens,” Kate huffs and Shannon instinctively wraps his arm around her, both soothing her and holding her in her place.

“I think he might handle it better than you,” Shannon whispers in her ear. Izzy laughs and kisses Jared’s cheek.

After dinner Kate grabs the plates to clean up, urging Izzy to stay put. “Babe, I’m gonna go talk to her,” Jared whispers after Kate disappears into the kitchen. Izzy promptly takes the seat over once Jared’s gone, returning to her conversation with Shannon.

“Hey, ummmmmm… Kate, did you know the first time I saw Izzy I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I made the biggest ass out of myself and you laughed at me. The second time and third time were pretty close to the first.”

“Yeah, Jared I remember,” Kate says rolling her eyes.

“You told me how stubborn she was and you convinced me that I should ask her out. It was you that pushed me and her. You bribed her to come over that night and you made her give me all those second chances. I know I fucked up and I know I lost your trust but I do love her.”

“She can’t be alone, Jared. You don’t know what that does to her.  You weren’t there. You don’t know how broken she was when her mom and brother died or when her dad lost it or when her fiancé cheated on her. I was. This, what you did on that beach, was worse. I’d never seen her that upset before,” Kate confides in Jared.

“I’m really grateful to you and Shannon for taking care of her when I fucked up. And I swear to you that it’s never going to happen again. When I realized how long I’d been gone and she wasn’t there anymore I lost my fucking mind. When I ran into Shannon I was searching for her and you attacked me and everything got fucked up,” Jared tells her.

“You hurt her. Make her cry one single day and Jared Joseph Leto, I swear to you on the life of your unborn child that I will make sure you suffer a slow and painful death,” Kate warns him, poking her finger into his chest.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he responds, grabbing her pointing finger and pulling her in for a reluctant hug. “I’ve got a surprise for you and my brother, but mostly for you,” he tells her after releasing her, pulling a printed airline ticket from a kitchen drawer. “I was an ass and I ruined your honeymoon and I’m sorry. I thought you needed a redo.”

“What? You did not,” Kate yells excitedly. “I can’t believe you did that,” she continues, wrapping her arms around Jared, any lingering anger she may have had towards him resolving in that moment. “When did you…”

“The day I got home. Kate, I promise you can trust me. I’m not going anywhere. I love her and the tiny little monster growing inside of her with everything I’ve got.” Jared’s eyes light up with the mention of his child. “Don’t tell her I called him a monster. How can I already love something so much that I know nothing about?”

“That’s what fathers do,” Kate tells him with a smile. “You are going to be a great father, but, Jared, we don’t know if it’s a boy yet.”

Jared shrugs his shoulders and blows Kate off. “Izzy thinks it’s a boy. I’m following her lead on this one.”

“Following whose lead?” Shannon asks from the doorway.

“Your brother did something right! We get a redo on our honeymoon,” Kate tells him the news excitedly, completely ignoring his question.

“Awesome,” Shannon says nodding his approval at his brother. “Ummm, the pregnant girl outside wants chocolate sooo… I hope you fucking have some.”

“There should be a basket of Mast chocolate around here somewhere,” Jared says, immediately setting to work searching the pantry and cabinets for chocolate for the mother of his child. Shannon and Kate take their time finishing the dishes and wiping down the counters until Jared finds it, and the three rejoin Izzy in the living room.

“Hey Shan, do you think you and a few of the guys could help me move that stuff from Izzy’s this weekend,” Jared asks his brother as Izzy tears open a chocolate bar.

“Move what?” Izzy asks, barely pausing in unwrapping her treat and shoving it in her mouth.

“The baby's stuff,” Jared tells her quickly, pulling his phone from his pocket and responding quickly to an email.

Izzy looks to Kate with an almost panicked expression. “But I thought you bought that stuff for the baby. Why would we move it?”

“I did,” Jared says slowly, realizing the tone in her voice has changed. He glances up to see Shannon staring back at him with a warning look. “Iz, we can hire a company if it would be easier. We can move everything at once.” Shannon’s face falls and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Why?” Izzy asks him, crossing her arms in defense. Kate whispers in her ear to stay calm. “Calm, I’m calm. Jared, I’m not moving. I like my house. Kate and I bought that house when we first decided to move here. It smells nice and it’s girly and I have a hall and stairs and...it’s my home. This is your house. It’s all manly and bachelor pad. I can’t raise my child here. There’s always a hundred people around.”

“Iz, we can move to another part of the house. I’ll put walls wherever you want. Boundaries for Baby, we’ll call it,” Jared jokes, trying to pull her close for a hug.

“I’m not moving. Boundaries,” Izzy says sarcastically, pushing him away and standing. “You still have none. How should I expect your employees to have any?”

“Iz, that’s not true and you know it,” Jared points out boldly.

“First you break into my house and set up a whole nursery without any input from me and now you’re moving me into your house without a word. We haven’t discussed this at all,” Izzy barely manages to keep her voice below a scream.

“You said you loved the nursery, that it was perfect,” Jared defends.

“What if I wanted a different crib or lamp?” Izzy panics, searching for anything to prove her point.

“We’ll get whatever you want. It’s just stuff, Iz. I just wanted you to see I was serious about our family,” Jared tries to console his irrational girlfriend once more, grabbing her hand and trying to pull her back down to the couch. “It makes sense for you to move in here, I guess I just assumed you’d want to,” he sighs, looking to Kate and Shannon for help before he fucks this up worse.

“Shan,” Izzy starts to plead, closing her mouth promptly when Shannon looks up at her.

“Izzy, you two need to work these things out on your own but you know he’ll worry when you’re there alone. Fuck, I’ll be worried. We’re almost always here. Why be alone when you could be here with family,” Shannon urges her, standing by her side and putting his arm around her shoulder. “That’s my blood in there. Think about it. You don’t have to decide today,” Shannon tells her, glaring at Jared to back off her just a bit.

“Kate, you’re on my side, right,” Izzy asks, wiping a tear as it falls.

Kate shakes her head. “Iz, I love you more than anything but you should be here. What if you go into labor or God forbid something happens and you’re alone. With this traffic it would take any of us nearly an hour to get to you. Besides, we need a bigger office. We could sell the house and use the equity for a bigger location with more storage for all our supplies we’ve gathered.”

Izzy looks at Jared but she’s too exhausted to fight with him tonight. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Izzy says shortly, kissing Shannon on his cheek. Izzy pouts as she grabs Kate’s hand and pulls her away from Shannon and out of the room with her.

“I want my child with me too. I don’t want to miss anything. It makes sense,” Jared can be heard telling Shannon as the girls disappear down the hallway. Kate can’t hide the amused smirk on her face.

Izzy sighs. “What?” Izzy asks with a huff as she pulls Kate into Jared’s bed with her, tucking them both under the covers.

“You’re going to sleep at his place. You won’t move in with him, but…”

“Why does he just assume I’m going to move in with him? He didn’t talk to me about it at all! He does that all the time and it drives me crazy,” Izzy complains, cuddling into Kate’s arms as she strokes Izzy’s hair soothingly.

“You’ll train that out of him eventually,” Kate assures her. “But you can’t reject every idea he has simply because he had it. He’s right, and you know how much I hate to say that… Promise me you’ll at least think about it. We’ve got a while before the baby comes so you have time to think it over for a while. No one expects you to make that decision today,” Kate insists.

Izzy hums a reluctant, sleepy agreement, her eyes closed and her body relaxed. A few minutes later the boys slip into the room quietly. Kate disentangles herself from Izzy as Jared slips into the other side of the bed and pulls her close, whispering his thanks to Kate as she leaves the room with Shannon.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! <3

Tag List: : @msroxyblog @bradlea23 @babiiface16 @nikkitasevoli @maliciousalishious @snewsome756 @missechelon @iridescxntsolitude @meghan12151977  @jletos-guinness-girl @flowhi @bluegirl4life @blondiefrommars @ddg90 @iridescxntsolitude @cleoleto @elwin-smaragd

If you’d like added or removed from the list please let me know!

Thank you @jletolove4eva for getting me thru 2017 and putting up with my holiday writer’s block. You’re a saint and I love you.

[artificialqueens]

Coming Home Chapter 7 (Shalaska) - Jem

AN: I realize it’s march but I always love a good holiday special. Thank you all for continuing to support this story ❤. This chapter is a bit longer to help make up for my hiatus.

Summary: Everyday is Christmas

After years of horrible Christmas days in their youth, Sharon and Alaska had become accustomed to celebrating Christmas on December 24th instead. Christmas Eve was a day reserved for them and the people they really truly loved, not just those who were related by blood. It was no different this year, even though they had Violet.

They’d decorated the apartment with various Christmas trinkets, and they even had a small tree squished in the corner of the living room. Alaska had made the mistake of letting Sharon do the tree this year, which meant it was an amalgamation of reindeer, snowflakes, and of course, a set of skeleton lights they had bought at Halloween. It was cute and tacky and somehow perfectly represented their personalities.

Violet was a bit nervous as it was the first holiday she was spending with Sharon and Alaska. Similarly to her two foster parents, Christmas was rarely a day worth celebrating for her. When she’d been young, she’d barely known the holiday existed; her mother had never had money or motivation to do gifts or dinner or even decorate. Even once she’d been placed in the foster system and passed from family to family, she’d always been left out. Christmas was always something that everyone else celebrated, but not her, a foreign entity that was hard to understand.

It didn’t seem like it was going to be too much of a big ordeal, however. Sharon and Alaska had only decided to invite one of their close friends over, Jinkx, who arrived promptly at 7:00 pm.

“Alaska, Sharon, darlings.” Jinx greeted each of them with a kiss on the cheek. She stepped back, noticing Violet standing behind them.

“And you must be the wonderful Violet that I hear so much about.” Jinkx extended a manicured hand to the teen, who shook it tentatively without saying a word. It surprised her, for some odd reason, to think that Sharon and Alaska told people about her. They seemed so isolated from the rest of the world sometimes.

“Merry Christmas, Jinkxy,” Alaska told her, taking her coat to hang in the closet. “Come on in, Sharon will get you a drink.”

“Are you guys still on this whole Christmas thing? Neither of you are Christian, you could celebrate anything.”

“I’ve tried to tell her we should convert to satanism, Jinkx, I’ve really tried.” Sharon said seriously as she poured the redhead a glass of red wine.

“Oh Sharon, you know that’s not what I mean. I love the holidays. I just thought maybe we could light the menorah this year, for little old me. It’s the 24th after all, and the first day of Hanukkah lines up with it.”

“Well we’ve still got the one you left here last year, so go ahead and do it if you’d like.” Alaska came back into the kitchen, holding said menorah. “But the Christmas music stays.”

A gentle ringing of bells floated over from the speakers.

“I feel like meshing up all of these religious traditions must be worse than just celebrating Christmas without being Christian.” Sharon pointed out.

“They’re all just capitalist holidays anyways, my dear, and I shall celebrate them all together as I please.” Jinkx explained with a flurry of hand gestures.

Alaska invited Violet over the the kitchen, noticing the girl had been very quiet.

“I know I’m quite the character.” Jinkx turned toward her. “But I swear I don’t bite.”

Violet tried to force a smile, but it tugged at her cheeks in a funny way. Jinkx seemed sweet, and hardly someone to be afraid of, but something in her was terrified of making a bad impression. It was like she was waiting for Sharon and Alaska to realize they had made a horrible mistake in taking her in. What if Jinkx was the person to finally point it out to them?

It was a completely absurd train of thought, and Violet knew it. She stopped her brain from wandering and forced herself to speak.

“I know I have a resting bitch face, but I don’t bite either.”

Jinkx laughed, and Sharon and Alaska joined in. The awkwardness melted away.

“So how do you know Sharon and Alaska?” Violet asked the redhead.

“Me and Lask go way back to our pageant days, but me and Sharon work in the same office now.”

“It’s a small world.” Alaska smiled as she spoke.

“Yeah, and once I met these two fools, they just couldn’t get rid of me.”

“We wouldn’t want to.” Alaska added.

“Well…..” Sharon joked, squeezing Jinkx gently on the shoulder.

Jinkx nursed her wine a little longer, and Sharon offered Violet a glass. However, she really preferred not to drink and joined Alaska in grabbing some sparkling cranberry juice instead.

“Are you all hungry? Because I’ve prepared a beautiful feast for all of us tonight.” Sharon said proudly.

“And by prepared she means we got postmates.” Alaska clarified. “We don’t cook, right Violet?”

“I’m fifteen and I can make a meal better than both of you combined. Did you know they burned spaghetti the other day, Jinkx? Spaghetti!”

“That sounds about right.” Jinkx laughed. “One of these years you can all come over to mine for the holidays instead. I actually do cook. Or at least let me bring something here when I offer, every single year.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Sharon asked, grabbing Alaska’s hand and giving it a soft kiss.

“Don’t these two just drive you crazy with the lovey dovey stuff? I can’t imagine being around it all the time.”

Violet laughed. Sharon and Alaska were extremely mushy, but there was something kind of nice about the fact that seemed to love and respect each other so much. Violet didn’t actually find it annoying.

They ate their meal joyfully, and Violet helped Sharon clean up as Alaska and Jinkx settled down in the living room.

When Violet went to join them after finishing up she felt a little bit uneasy. As she sat in a chair next Jinkx she realized that there was a pile of gifts under the tree and she hadn’t bought a single one for her foster parents.

Jinkx looked about ready to hop out of her chair with excitement. The woman quickly grabbed two snowflake-covered bags and handed them to Sharon and Alaska.

They both reached into the bags to find a crudely hand-knitted sweater for each of them. Alaska’s was a more traditional ugly Christmas sweater with a reindeer on the front. There were bells sewn onto the piece so that it would be just the right amount of annoying as she walked around wearing it. Sharon’s sweater was, no surprise, a Halloween one. It had the words “witch please” knitted on it with a picture of a witch flying in front of the moon. Sound effects hadn’t been forgotten there either, a pat on the shoulder gave a nice loud “Boo!” which had Sharon cackling with laughter as she immediately put on the garment. The bottom of their bags held a few gift cards to their favourite stores and a nice Hallmark card to put up on the mantle of the fireplace.

“Aw, thanks Jinkxy!” Alaska exclaimed, going up to embrace her friend. She passed over her and Sharon’s gift to Jinkx, which was a pack of her favourite cookies and a matching set of earrings and a necklace she’d been eyeing on an earlier shopping trip. There was a lot of love going around.

Jinkx even had a small gift for Violet, which the girl protested against.

“I don’t need anything.” She told the redhead.

“Oh nonsense, it was nothing, I wanted to.”

Inside the bag was a pretty pink lounge robe that looked warm and comfy for around the house but could even be dressed up for a more classy look. Violet couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face. She thanked Jinkx profusely, and the woman looked very pleased with Violet’s reaction.

Finally, Alaska and Sharon went to grab their gifts for Violet from under the tree. She began to open them a bit meekly, overwhelmed with having so many things she’d never even dreamt of receiving. They’d bought her a couple magazine subscriptions, some black heels in her size, gift cards to some decent clothing and makeup stores, and a rather impressive palette of eyeshadow. Her final gift was just a 9 by 12 yellow envelope, which she opened to reveal a pile of paperwork.

Violet looked up at Sharon and Alaska, puzzled. They just smiled at her so she began to look through the papers.

“What?” She asked in disbelief.

“We’ve done almost all the paperwork, and after all this time it’s finally been cleared. I think there’s just one more piece to sign.” Alaska babbled.

“What we’re saying is, would you like to officially become our daughter?” Sharon gave Violet a hopeful smile.

“Yes!” She squealed, completely overwhelmed with happiness. She could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes as Sharon and Alaska wrapped her in their arms. She’d never imagined she would be adopted. She was just a few years off being 18 now that she’d figured she’d just have to wait a little longer to be out of the system, but this was better than she ever could have imagined.

“Of course we’ll discuss with you and your social worker about if you want any contact with your birth mother, but don’t worry about it too much. We just want you to be a part of the decision making process.” Alaska assured Violet in their hug.

As she pulled away from the warm embrace and wiped her eyes she said, “I feel terrible I didn’t get anything for you guys.” Her voice was a little shaky.

“You said yes, what else could we possibly need? Right, Shar?” Alaska reached to pull her partner closer.

“Can I be auntie Jinkx, then?” Jinkx asked Sharon and Alaska, and she was a little teary-eyed at the scene. “You two are my sisters, after all.”

“Of course Jinkx.”

The rest of the night passed just as smoothly. They settled down to watch some Hallmark Christmas movies that Sharon complained about the entire time. They were extremely cheesy, with bad sets and worse acting, but it felt just right.

With her new family surrounding her, Violet had never felt more loved in her entire life.

————

Violet knew very little about Alyssa Edwards. She’d heard she was kooky and glamorous and sweet, but she’d never had the chance to talk to the girl.

She sure did know how to throw a New Year’s party though.

Violet had been roped into attending by Trixie and Fame, and after they’d volunteered to help style her, it hadn’t been hard to agree.

The party’s theme had been black and white, so Violet was wearing one of Fame’s dresses, a cute, tight black dress with tasteful white appliqué. Her friends had done her makeup and hair for her (well Katya helped by sitting still) and all four of them looked stunning. When they arrived at the party, Violet was ready to slay them all with her look, and she was barely even nervous.

Almost as soon as they arrived, her little posse broke up to mingle, and Violet found herself searching through the crowd for some familiar faces. Alyssa must have invited the whole school, it was so packed inside her house.

She spotted Max from afar in the living room, and it looked like she was arguing with a blonde boy whose face she couldn’t see. Violet walked over to interject. “Hey Max, is this guy giving you trouble?”

Oh shit. As the boy turned around, Violet berated herself for not realizing it was Matt. She tried not to look shocked.

“It’s fine, Matt was just leaving.” Max said coldly, giving Matt a stern look.

“See you around, Violet.” He said rather calmly, turning over his shoulder to leave.

“What’s up?” Violet asked the pale girl. Not oblivious to the tension between her two friends(?).

“He can just be so infuriating sometimes!” Max complained, obviously frustrated. “He does have more of a personality than a brick wall, but he sure is selective about when he shows it.”

“I get what you mean.” Violet agreed. “How do you know him?”

“Him and Tracy–Trixie, were friends before I was homeschooled, so I saw him pretty often. He’s a sweet boy, really, with a lot of potential; he just likes to waste it.”

That was pretty much what Violet got from the boy as well.

“Nevermind him, we should still be able to have a good time.” Max brushed it all off and grabbed Violet’s hand to lead her to the kitchen, and subsequently, the alcohol. Violet tensed up a bit as Max refilled her drink and poured one for Violet. She was looking at her expectantly so Violet did her best to take a sip. She didn’t know how she hadn’t realized that Max was already a bit drunk before. The girl was usually very calculated, but she’d loosened up completely.

Violet trailed behind Max for awhile, but it wasn’t long before the girl was talking with a group of people that Violet didn’t know. The circle was completely closed off, and she had little desire to have to make petty small talk with them. She moved around the floor and there were just so many people she didn’t know. She felt so small and insignificant in the large group of upperclassmen swimming around her.

“Hey, babe, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” An older boy with dark hair and pale eyes tapped her on the shoulder.

“It’s my first time here.” Violet tried to be polite but she really just wanted to find her friends.

“I’d be happy to show you around.” The boy told her, obviously trying to flirt and though Violet was flattered, she was having none of it.

“Can you hold my drink?” She asked, already handing the half-empty cup into his hand. It was a bit of a bitchy move but there was nowhere to put it down and she didn’t feel like finishing it. From there, she pushed her way out of the crowd, finally spotting Fame laughing with one of the girls from their chemistry class.

As soon as she walked up, it was like Fame already knew what she was going to say. She excused herself from the conversation she’d been having and hooked her arm through Violet’s to find somewhere a bit more private.

They settled on sitting in a quiet corner of the living room, where a group was playing spin the bottle and wouldn’t notice them off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Violet would have liked to have a good time and get loose, but she’d been on her toes her whole life and couldn’t quite bring herself to be free. I don’t drink you know?” She said as if it explained everything.

“Me neither, I get it.” Fame squeezed her hand. She understood the whole ‘fear of addiction’ thing better than anyone.

“I just feel so out of place. Like, I know I’m kind of a bitch sometimes but I feel really alienated today and everyone is drunk and I’m not.”

“You know Kat and Trix and I, and even Max, love you, right?”

“That’s just so foreign to me, Fame. I’ve never really had friends, I’ve never been nice or normal or permanent enough.”

“You are perfect Violet.” Sometimes Violet didn’t know how to respond to Fame’s unabashed compliments.

“Sharon and Alaska are adopting me.” She changed the subject.

“Really? Violet, that’s so amazing!”

“It is, it really is.”

“But?”

“It’s silly and childish.” She brushed it off. “It’s just, the first step of the adoption process is the birth parents giving up parental rights. And honestly, my mother gave up that role in my life the second my dad left but it’s just…”

“It’s explicit now, it’s in writing.”

“Exactly.” Violet nodded. “And Sharon and Alaska are everything that I have ever wanted in parents, so it feels stupid to be hung up on it.”

“I think it’s normal to be sad at the feeling of being abandoned. But Violet, Sharon and Alaska chose you. Out of all the kids in the world they could have had they chose you. That’s a big deal.”

“I don’t know why they did, honestly.”

“You’re really special Violet, you know that right?”

“Thanks, Fame. You’re really special too.” She gave her friend a hug, and stood up. “I’m gonna go find the bathroom.”

She walked down the hallway, finally finding what she was pretty sure was a bathroom. She opened the door, only to have her eyes fall upon Katya and Trixie making out against the wall.

“Oh my god, you guys.” She yelled, breaking the two apart. Trixie’s cheeks were red with embarrassment and Katya just licked her lips and smiled. “Lock the door or something next time, would you?” She scolded, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her cheeks. She had sensed some kind of tension between the two so it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“There’s another bathroom one floor up.” Katya told Violet as she closed the door.

“Thanks!” Violet yelled back. She took the staircase up to the next level, and it was much quieter there. It looked like where more of the bedrooms were, and Violet spotted a door with a bedazzled “Alyssa” written on it in pink.

She pushed the door of the bathroom open and sure enough, there was someone in there again. She just couldn’t get a break tonight, could she?

The figure on the floor looked up at her and sniffled.

“Matt?” She asked, recognizing that face but not the distraught expression.

“Shit, Violet. I’ll leave.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it, bitch.” Violet said. “Look, I really need to pee but if you go outside and wait for me we can talk.”

Violet used the bathroom and luckily Matt was still sitting out in the hallway when she finished. He looked completely different than he did at school, all of the cockiness he usually had was gone.

“Rough night?” Violet asked, moving to join him.

“I guess.” Matt said quietly. “My parents were just being shitty and now I’m here and I’m not really in the mood for all the boy talk.”

“What was going on with you and Max earlier?”

“I was just being an asshole, like usual.”

“You know you can choose not to be.” Violet pointed out.

“I don’t get how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“The unshakeable confidence thing. Like, you know who you are and you don’t let anyone change that.”

“I just don’t care about anyone else.” Violet said bluntly. “Ok, maybe that’s not quite true. I’ve had to be my own support system my whole life, and I wouldn’t have been able to survive if I didn’t tell myself that I’m great.”

“What does it mean if I like you?” Matt asked, and suddenly his face was really close to hers.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Before anything could go further, Matt turned around and threw up on the nice, polished, hardwood floor.

The crowd downstairs began to yell as the countdown started at ten. As it made it down to one Violet helped Matt to his feet, cleaned him up, and delivered him back to his friends and the rest of the party.

New Year’s kisses were overrated anyways.

[nicodigaybaby]

Happy Birthday Philly

Dan sat on his bed, impatiently looking at the clock every ten seconds to check the time. It was currently 11:40pm and there were only 20 minutes left until Phil's 30th birthday.  Phil was asleep in their shared bedroom, while Dan sat on his bed mindlessly scrolling through tumblr, looking at the 'happy birthday phil' posts that had already started appearing. Beside him sat the cup cake he had bought for Phil, because the other boy had insisted that they did not need a cake. Dan had not told him of his plan (it was meant to be a surprise) but had already warned him that if Dan ate most of it, Phil would only have himself to blame. Dan looked at the clock again, only 10 minutes were left until the clock struck 12. He got up from his position, his left pocket heavy with Phil's birthday gift, grabbed the  red velvet cupcake and some candles. He lit the candles, and grabbed the party popper he had kept especially for this very occasion. He walked to their shared bedroom, where Phil lay asleep unaware of Dan's presence. Dan looked at the time in his phone again, and saw that it was now 11:59pm. He sat on the bed beside Phil, careful to not move too much. Gently placing his hands on the older boy's shoulders, Dan shook him lightly. A small groan erupted from the soft pink lips whose taste and feel Dan knew all too well. The room was dark and the only source of light was the candles on the cupcake. Dan shook Phil again and whispered in a soft voice "get up Phil!". When Phil continued to ignore his labours, Dan promptly decided to take the matter into his own hands. He leaned against the bed, hands right near Phil's face, and suddenly burst the party popper in his face. Phil woke up with a start and a shrill shriek erupted from his lips. He quickly got up so that he was sitting on the bed, leaning against the bed frame. Rubbing his eyes in a languid manner now that he had visibly relaxed seeing that Dan was the cause of the noise, he asked in a husky voice, "What is it bear?". He didn't sound upset, only a bit tired and worried. He was used to getting woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of Dan's feet padding against the hall carpet as he paced the hallway at 3am, but Dan rarely woke Phil up on purpose at such an odd time of the night. "PHILLY!" Dan practically shrieked, his whole body emanating energy and happiness "It's your birthday!" He finished with a smile, shoving the cake (which had until now been hidden from his view behind Dan's back) in Phil's eyesight. Phil audibly gasped. Sure Dan did this every year and sure Dan was always the first one to wish him and shower him with love and kisses, but he had always saved the cake and presents for the next morning. It must be something special this year Phil thought. And his guess could not have been more accurate. Of course it was something special. But we'll get to that later. "Happy birthday philly" Dan repeated,  a huge smile plastered on his face, as though he was the one who was to receive presents. Phil's usual smile was so bright it could grow flowers, Dan had said so himself on many occasions, but the smile Phil gave him now was enough assurance that what he was about to do, what he had been planning to do for almost 3 months, was not a mistake. Phil blew out the candles, and darkness fell, for neither of these dorks had thought of switching on the light before. Phil laughed at their stupidity and got up to switch on the light. A gentle touch to the arm stopped him, and Dan got up, slinging his arms around Phil's waist. The moonlight shone through the window, just enough to illuminate their faces. Dan slowly leaned in to kiss his boyfriend, and just before their lips met he breathed out a "may I?". Phil smiled and close the gap between them, his answer clear from his actions. Their lips met in a slow and loving kiss, one that was not rushed or passionate, as if to say "I'm here. I'll always be here." Their tongues danced in beautiful harmony, tasting each other slowly. Dan's hands found their way to Phil's hair, and he curled his fingers around the ebony locks at the base of his neck. Phil arms hung losely around Dan's hips, and he pulled the younger boy closer. They broke away to breathe, and a crimson blush covered Dan's soft features. Phil smirked lightly, relishing in the fact that even after 7 years he still had the ability to reduce the brown haired boy to a blushing mess with just a kiss. He proceeded towards the switch board  (is that what they're called?) and turned on the light. The room was instantly illuminated by the florescent  light, and as Phil turned around, he was greeted by a sight the most fortunate people are greeted by only once in their lifetime. Dan crouched in front of him, a box in  his left hand, open, revealing the ring that lay inside it. Phil gasped, overcome with so many feelings, he didn't know what to say. Waves and waves of happiness and excitement crashed over him, and in no time he began to tear up. Before he could say something, Dan spoke up. "Phil, ever since the day I met you on the train station, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Hell! I realised it before we even met. You have always been my inspiration, my protector, the love of my life. I was a depressed teenager with zero friends and no future, but you changed all of that Phil. You are the only reason I am where I am today. I'm not going to go into the details of how much you've helped me and cared for me because let's be honest I don't want to be sitting in this  painful position until 5am." Dan breathed out a soft chuckle. His voice was quivering, like it always did when he wasn't sure of what he was doing, or was nervous. Phil just stood there, frozen, a million thoughts rushing through his mind, and more than half of them were just his brain screaming "YES". Nevertheless, he let the the younger boy continue his speech- which- from living with him for 5 years, Phil knew was not a prepared speech. The boy was speaking straight from his heart and that was what touched Phil the most. "I have known you for 7 years, and there isn't one moment of those seven years that I regret. Sure I joke about regretting everything I do, but the one thing I don't regret - I will never regret- is messaging you on twitter. Because it got me a beautiful friend, and the best boyfriend. I love you Phil.  I love you so much. I love your stupid animal facts. I love your warm and welcoming hugs, I love your inability to cook without setting the whole flat on fire- because it gives me a reason to cook for you- I love your smile and your weird raps about Dil. I love loving with you. I love that you are a part of my life. I love EVERYTHING about you Phil. I love the way your tongue pokes out when you laugh. I love your ability to make me feel better about myself. I love you for your beautiful soul and I love your entire existence. The last year has made me realise how important you are to me and what an integral part of my life you are. I don't want to spend even a day of my life without you. If you say yes to the question I'm about to ask you, I will be more than happy to spend the rest of my life with you. So Phillip Michael Lester, will you marry me?" Dan ended his long speech with a breathless sigh as he usually did when he finished something he was nervous about. Phil said nothing. He stood there for a good 2 minutes just staring at Dan, his eyes glistening with tears and his lower lip quivering. His mind screamed "YES YES YES HOLY HELL YES" But his body seemed to have gone limp. Finally he found his tongue, and breathed out "yes". Dan's eyes lit up with a twinkle and a smile formed on his lips, one that showed his deep dimples that Phil loved. "Yes". Phil said again, in a more confident tone, a huge smile forming on his lips as well. Dan began to get up from the floor, but before he could stand up straight, Phil jumped onto him, hugging him tight, making them both fall to the ground in a giggling, blushing mess. The ring was still clutched in Dan's left hand, and Phil turned his gaze to it once, before smiling again and lightly pressing his lips to Dan's.  They broke apart after a few seconds, their cheeks flushed and breathing ragged. Dan sat up, sitting across from Phil. He quickly took the ring out of the box, taking Phil's left hand and quickly slipping the ring on. They just sat there, looking into each others eyes, sharp icy blue mixing with warm, inviting brown. They didn't have to say anything more, soft kisses were shared between them, ones that said "I'm here. And now it's definite that I'll always be here." After a few minutes Phil spoke,"So, you love me huh?" He proceeded to grab the cupcake from the bed, taking a small bite out of it. "Shut up you spork. I literally say that everyday." Dan took the cupcake from Phil, stuffing his face with a large bite. "But still" Dan giggled, his cheeks tinted pink and chapped lips stretched in a smile. "How did you decide you were going to do this?" Phil asked gently, nodding towards the ring. "I've wanted to do this for 2 years now, but I was always to scared to ask first. But then I figured... You're turning thirty, definitely you'd want something permanent right? And if you didn't want me we wouldn't be together after 7 years, so I just figured, I should ask you. " "Well you proved all the fanfiction writers wrong" Phil chuckled, referring to how most of their fans were certain that Phil would be the one to propose. "Don't laugh." Dan said with a chuckle, ruining the meaning of his statement. "I have been worrying about this for 3 months" "You really do overthink things" Phil mused. Dan just shoved him playfully. Phil looked at his ring again, it felt weird on his finger, but good weird. The weight felt reassuring to him, a physical promise to remind him that what Dan and he had was real. It was a platinum love band, and upon closer inspection one could see the words "this is the most fun I've ever had" engraved on it (because Dan was a cheesy little shit) "You're so cheesy Dan" Phil exclaimed, referring to the engraved words. He couldn't help but smile and feel greatful to have such a beautiful man in his life. "Shut up you love it", Dan retorted, and before Phil could manage another sassy remark, Dan had smothered him with a kiss. As they broke away from the kiss, Dan once again repeated, a cheeky grin evident on his face "Happy birthday you spork" "Thank you for the best birthday gift ever bear. " And neither of them regretted the promise they had made to each other on the night of the 30th of January, 2017. A/N so I usually post my stuff on wattpad (my wattpad is @/ fandomsarespooky) and this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr. My blog isn't really popular but I'd really appreciate feedback and reblogs. If you want me to write something then feel free to send in prompts!💕

[gwensparlour]

All that there's in a name

Title: All that there’s in a name

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Characters: Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Katsuki

Pairing: Victuuri

Summary: "Above all Yuri discovers how important names are for Victor. Maybe it’s something cultural; maybe it’s just him. Victor catalogues moods and situations on a strict name-basis."A story about how names can affect a relationship.

(As a writer I need to spam my works wherever I can)

AO3 link

“Tell me, Yuri,” Victor begins, one anonymous morning, while pouring milk in his morning coffee.

“Yes?”

“We’ve been together for a while, right? Then why you never call me Vicchan?”

Because calling you with the name of my dead dog would be inappropriate.

Hiroko is the only one to call Victor “Vicchan”. It’s her prerogative. It’s something she and only she does. When the nickname exits her mouth it feels natural. From others’ lips, even Yuri’s, not so much.

Vicchan is Hasetsu. It’s spending a week of summer holiday in the onsen. It's helping around with the business of the Yu-topia Katsuki. It’s Victor aiding in the kitchen, fringe held by a pin, or at the front desk with the possible foreign guests. It’s Hiroko thanking him, a happy look on her face. She dries her puffy hands on the oil-stained apron before serving him the third bowl of katsudon.

Vicchan is Hiroko speaking on Skype to his soon-to-be son-in-law. They chat in a broken mixture of English and Japanese, always pausing to search this word or that on the dictionary.

“What about Vitya, then?”

Yuri sighs, shaking his head. He has tried to call Victor "Vitya", but the word on his tongue feels always wrong.

Vitya is Victor’s life in Russia, before and without Yuri. It's stopping while buying groceries to chat with the old and gentle baker round the corner. She has always flour in her blonde crown-braid. She and Victor speak in a Russian so quick Yuri can grasp only few words here and there.

Vitya is St Petersburg’s rink with Yakov shouting from the early morning. The poor man deserves a monument. The old coach calls his oldest pupil Vitya even when he's mad and on the verge to send him to Siberia

Vitya is Mila skating toward Victor. She giggles with the phone in her hands, shouting about some funny meme or instagram picture.

“Vityusha? Vitenka?”

“I thought you hated when they call you Vityusha!”

They are Victor’s maternal grandparents. It doesn't matter that he's Victor Nikiforov, twenty-eight years old legend of figure skating, fifth time Grand Prix champion and as much World champion. For them he'll always be Vityusha. Little Vityusha. Especially since his grandma suffers from dementia and is sure beyond any doubt that her only nephew is six. Vityusha is Victor bending forward to let his granny kiss his cheeks, leaving a faint mark of cheap reddish lipstick. It's wrinkled hands on his shoulders and comments on how much he has grown. Vityusha is double portion of hot borscht "for special occasion".

Vitenka, yet, is sex. There's no other way to say it. It's one of the things that should never exit the bedroom. It's private, like their sex life; like, you know, lube and condoms and kinks and all the thing strangers are not supposed to know about. Supposed is the key word, as some suck marks are always a little too visible.

Vitenka is flushed skin against skin, nails biting into flesh, intoxicating warmth. It's Victor on his knees, hands tied behind his strong back, and eyes full of adoration.

Vitenka is pure submission, something a stranger would never imagine from Victor the champion or Victor the coach.

The name rolls rarely out of Yuri's mouth, but when it happens it's solid power, dark and velvety. A power is careful not to abuse.

"Why can't I call you Viktoru?" Yuri asks, indulging in that final extra vowel out of habit. Despite having spent five years in America, he had never truly learnt to pronounce names the Western way. Even when he's speaking English, although in the latest months they have set for a strange mix of Russian and Japanese, with a prevalence of the former, Victor is always Viktoru.

Always the Japanese way.

Here in St Petersburg it becomes part of Yuri's identity. Despite all the stereotypes of Japanese people being overly formal with new acquaintances, he has been on first name basis with Victor since the very beginning. Looking back he notices he has never called him Nikiforov coach, not even once. It has never been necessary.

Even before the sentiment in his chest bloomed in full love, it was already Viktoru.

And still, as weeks pass, even that Viktoru starts to be unsatisfactory. It remembers Yuri too much of the times when there was still a wall of unspoken words and unshared memories between them. Miscommunication.

The wall hasn't completely disappeared yet, but now it's thinner, like a rice paper panel, a see-through when the light hits it with the right angle.

With the right word, the right gesture.

***

It isn't something Yuri has planned when the nickname rolls out of his tongue one Sunday morning. He's been studying Russian for months now and of all the people is Georgi that explains him the subtitles of affectionate diminutives. When the man isn't whining about his ex girlfriend, he's a surprisingly exquisite person.

"Looks like I won again, Vitechka," Yuri says. He and Victor are playing rock, scissor, paper to decide who has to clean the bathroom. Yuri has a special talent for this kind of hazard. He hasn't planned the nickname and when realization hits him in the form of Victor's head tilting on the side with curiosity, he frantically waves his hands.

"Oh, sorry! Don't tell me it's something your mother calls you with. Or, worse, a relative you hate."

But Victor shakes his head. "Actually, no," he assures. "Believe it or not, nobody has ever called me Vitechka. I like it," he adds.

Yuri feels like something is locking in his chest. Not in bad way, though.

So be it.

It repeats the word once, twice, feeling the way it makes his lips curl and stretch, the way his tongue moves around vowels and consonants.

It's his. It's the everyday non-sexual intimacy of laundries and chores. It's Victor pouting.

"Do we have to do this every time?" He protests, as his rock is promptly wrapped by Yuri's paper.

"Yes, Vitechka. It's fair."

And then he giggles. He knows that soon Victor will pretend to change the game to divide the chores.

"I'm looking forward for the next season. Two weeks of housework if I win gold!" He beats one afternoon, in sweatpants and baggy T-shirt. Yuri smirks. "I wouldn't brag. I don't think Yurio will be so wiling to leave you the highest place on the podium."

I am not willing to leave you the gold.

"Fine. If I place highest than you –“

“If.”

***

When Yuri was nineteen Phichith told him that he could have won first, second, and even third place in a quiz about Victor and Yuri used to believe so. At nineteen, he had already searched all that was available about his idol, putting together official interviews with badly translated Russian sentences of dubious accuracy.

He used to believe he knew everything about Victor Nikiforov.

From the very first weeks of Victor staying in Hasetsu, however, Yuri discovered how wrong he was.

Like, once in an interview a journalist had asked a fifteen-years-old Victor if there were any downsides in figure skating. Victor had chuckled, before proceeding in saying that it was all-nice, besides bruises, but he couldn't stand the broccoli Yakov insisted to put in his diet.

And there was Yuri, eleven at the time, with a big, glass heart, Ice Castle Hasetsu stickers plastered all over his notebooks, and sudden concerns with broccoli.

"I thought you hated broccoli," Yuri says, seeing his fiancé putting a package in the shopping cart. Victor freezes, his brain probably dealing with plus information at the same time. Namely Yuri's being the fanboy he is and why on earth should he has to have a problem with any vegetables.

Besides the carrots of aunt Katja, but everybody hates the carrots of aunt Katja.

It takes a while for the right memory to set in.

"Oh, right!" Victor exclaims, both amused and a little disconcerted that Yuri remembers something from so long ago. "It's not that I don't like them. Well, I don't dislike them anymore. But there was this woman who used to babysit me when I was little and she was a nice person but her broccoli soup was disgusting," he concludes, a whining note in his voice. Yuri can't help but laugh.

He knew Victor is a dog person, but then he discovers that his very first pet was a golden fish that died soon after having been bought because a child Victor gave him too much food.

He knew about the piano lessons his fiancé undertook to improve his already good sense of rhythm, but not that they ended up being a completely disaster. Apparently Voctor has never been able to play more than some Russian equivalent of Neko Funjatta.

Yuri knew already so many details of Victor’s life, but they were empty. Now there’s a strong and stable ground behind them. Day by day he ends up discovering also Victor’s flaws, the little bad habits it’ll take years to correct. He finds himself not caring a little bit.

Above all Yuri discovers how important names are for Victor. Maybe it’s something cultural; maybe it’s just him. Victor catalogues moods and situations on a strict name-basis. He acts differently based on how people call him; he anticipates what people expect from him.

That’s why, when the question pops out, Yuri knows he should’ve expected it.

“What do you want me to call you?”

Yuri shrugs. “Vitechka, you already call me cutes names.”

Victor waves his hand, dismissingly. “They don’t matter. I’m talking something about your name. I –“ he stops, letting his hands fall down in his lap. His fringe moves a little to the side. There’s a sparkle of sad nostalgia in his blue eyes. “It’s just that now it’s so strange to call you by full name. Nobody here in Russia would ever call the person they love by its full name. It feels so off," he continues explaining. As Yuri seems ready to say something, Victor makes a gesture meaning he's not finished.

"I can't call you Yura. That's for Yurio."

"Yurochka?" Yuri proposes.

"That's for little kids. It would be inappropriate after having seen what you can do in bed," Victor shoots back, a mischievous note in his voice and eyes. He buries fingers in his silver locks, combing hair from his forehead. Yuri has already seen Victor like this, struck by an inspiration he can't quite grasp. He mutters under his breath, tossing away options with a tilt of the head.

Yuri goes behind him, wrapping carefully his arms around Victor's shoulders. He let his head rest on Victor's.

"Why does it have to be so important?" He hums, hands draping lazily on his fiancé's chest.

"I told you."

"There's more, I can tell."

Victor sighs, the way he does when he accepts to have been exposed. He reaches back a hand to caress Yuri's cheek. "You know me too well.”

"I do. So, what's the problem?"

"You see, when you're famous you start to cherish all the little private moments other can't see."

Yuri emits a little chuckle. He tells Victor he has no right to talk so seriously.

"Just let me finish! So you have Vitechka. It's not common. Or, nobody I know uses it. I probably wouldn't allow anybody besides you to use it! I need a nickname for you with the same meaning!"

Something that talks about home and family; the place where you can forget your troubles.

“Well, in Japan we have the chan suffix for people you’re intimate with,” Yuri begins, voice slow as he puts together the sentence words by words. “But Yu-chan is something I already use for Yuko, so you won’t get the exclusive.”

“So it’s not use,” Victor finishes for him. They stay in silence for a while, biting lips in concentration, with fingers almost rubbing temples in the hope to be struck by the idea of the century.

And then everyday life reclaims their attention and the problem is postponed to another day.

Yuri lies awake. His eyes are wide open in the dark, fixed on the ceiling. For how cliché and silly it may be, he remembers that overused quote from the" Little Prince", the one about the rose. It’s been years since he’s read the book – he isn’t even sure if he has read it in Japanese or English – but somehow he recalls something about names and identity.

If you give me a name, I'll be your rose.

A rose by any other name.

He grunts, but let his mind wander nonetheless through fictional scenarios.

In the end the issue drops almost completely in the span of a couple weeks. It's not that Victor has stopped caring - Yuri has seen him browsing websites about Russian and Japanese name conventions - but there's more pressing subjects that need to be handled.

Worlds are almost there and Victor is so desperate to save time that he ends up practicing his step sequence while cooking. Yuri hears him counting time under his breath, the familiar "un, deux, trois" from the ballet days.

It doesn't take long before Yuri starts to imitate him.

They must appear crazy, totally crazy, to an outside eye.

Sometimes, despite his words, Victor calls Yuri Yura; never with Plisetsky present, though. Then he starts calling him Yuriusha. Or Yurechka. Yurenka. And at least other five ridiculous diminutives Yuri's pretty sure Victor's making up on the moment.

Yuri lets him do it. Victor's voice is soft and tender and Yuri hears it more than any nickname.

He stops thinking about it without even noticing. He stops waiting for Victor to pick out just one nickname out of the dozens he has discovered lately. He gets used to be called a different diminutive each day.

At the rink the Russian skaters start to call him Yura. Even Yurio.

***

A year passes like nothing.

It's soon before the beginning of the GP that Yuri brings up the issue once again. He approaches it sideways. They are in the locker room of St Petersburg rink, carefully polishing their blades.

“Do you remember when you asked me if I wanted a photo with you?” Yuri asks, almost nonchalantly. Victor nods, a twinge of regret in the form of a little wrinkle just above his eyebrows.

“Too bad, yes.”

“Well, do you know why I was staring at you?”

“Because I’m handsome?” Victor jokes. Yuri gives him a little, soft punch in the forearm. “I’ve thought you were calling me.”

Yuri remembers it far too well. It remembers it because he’s still afraid that one day he’ll be drained back to that starting point, all that has happened next obliterated. He remembers hearing that “Yuri!” and his heart skipping a bit and his body starting to turn, before discovering that it wasn’t meant for him.

He remembers the little “oh” escaping his lips, full of disappoint and regret. How silly he has felt just thinking that Victor Nikiforov was calling him. How pretentious.

It’s strange to tell Victor about it after so long time. “I miss hearing you calling my name, my real name. Don’t get me wrong, I think the diminutives are cute, but I preferred the way things were before,” Yuri finally says.

“Yes. Sure. Whatever you want.”

There’s a sad look on Victor’s face, the one that follow the discovery to having hurt a loved person without wanting to.

Yuri can’t pretend that Victor drops the habit immediately. He doesn’t even correct his fiancé when he continues distorting his name in all those silly ways. It takes time.

Meanwhile the assignments come. Yuri will compete in the Skate America and Cup of China; Victor will be at the Skate Canada and NHK Trophy.

It’ll be a mess.

***

Yuri knows when he’ll land a quad without falling or messing it up even before having touched the ice. It feels it in the way his body turns in mid-air, the tension of the muscles, and the pull in his stomach. At this speed, without glasses, it’s all blurry and he doesn’t even dare to breath, too afraid that a sigh will be enough to ruin everything.

It’s only when the blade collide with the ice, strong and clean, that Yuri allows himself to breath again. He knows too well how his body and brain need oxygen to finish the FS.

There’s a dull ache in his limbs, what has been left of months of training. It’s the awareness that the choreography’s now embedded in every fibre of his being. He doesn’t quite let his mind wander – Yakov has been very strict about “being focused” and “having always a back-up plan” – but he’s pretty sure that if he ever does it, his body will know the steps nonetheless. As strange as it may be, Yuri feels sure.

So when he stops twirling, coming out from the last combination spin, and hears the crowd roaring with enthusiasm, he knows he’s done well. He knows he’ll have a good score.

He skates to the exit of the rink, wiping sweat from is forehead before it falls in his eyes. With his surprise it’s Mila and Yurio the first one to welcome him.

“It wasn’t a complete disaster, Katsudon,” Yurio says and it’s his way to compliment him.

“Well done, Yura!” Mila adds and it’s there, with the Russian team that seems to have all the intention to keep him from Victor, that Yuri understands.

He notices how, while his fiancé was slowly abandoning any nickname, the other Yakov’s pupils were going in the exact opposite direction.

It’s like they have adopted him.

Now nobody of the people he knows in St Petersburg calls him by full name anymore. Nobody, except for Victor.

So when he hears a voice sing-songing “Yuuri” he knows exactly who’ll be there waiting for him when he’ll turn.

[the-excursion]

With Eternity

Kuon walked into the skating rink and was met with the man at the front desk. Shelves of different ice skates stood behind him as he flipped through a sports magazine as he supported his head with his hand, leaning over the counter. Kuon adjusted his neck nervously before walking up to him. “Hey there, name’s Rick. What can I set ya up with?” he asked politely as he gestured to the skates behind him. “Uh no, that won’t be necessary. I’m just here looking for my girlfriend. I think she’s inside,” Kuon explained. “Well isn’t that nice. You’re that nice young woman’s man? Consider yourself lucky to have someone like her. She comes in almost everyday. She’s very dedicated. Sometimes she comes in with her coach and sometimes she comes all on her own. That’s true spirit right there ya know,” Rick said. “Well today she’s with her coach, I’ll let you in. Though she had her skates with her I haven’t heard much skating going on so you can check for yourself. The studio is to the right of the rink when you enter. Locker rooms’ to the left,” he continued. Kuon promptly thanked him then made his way inside to the rink. He looked around and it was mostly empty with the exception of a few loose skaters about. But no signs of Eira. He looked to the door of the small studio then made his way there. Before he could open the door, he heard a voice suddenly speak up from the other side.

“Great! Again!” Kuon rose a brow then began to carefully open the door. He peeked through the small opening he allowed himself and saw Eira’s coach sitting on a bench with her hands clasped together as she watched something. Kuon opened the door slightly wider to allow himself to see what she was looking at. He found Eira extending one leg far behind her as she held the barre beside her. Her hair was up in a ponytail but her long bangs always managed to escape the tie. As she let go of the barre, she made a small turn as she remained balanced on her leg. She then swung her leg over and made a small leap before turning a short spin. She began to perform chaine leaps, a small turn before each jump. She proved to be very flexible with each leap causing her legs to split shortly while in the air. She then stopped and assumed first position as she closed her eyes, her head looking down. Her coach stood and clapped shortly. “Good job, good job Eira. I’m so glad you’re finally aiming to pursue this. Those people practically had a knife to your neck with deadlines and all that other mess. Starting off is always slow but stay with it, with me, and we’ll go far. Plus your studies on top of all that should get you into big places,” her coach encouraged. Eira looked up and opened her eyes to respond but the first thing she met eyes with was Kuon. Her face flushed as she looked away a moment. “K-Kuon, what are you doing here?” She asked with slight embarrassment in her voice. “I just came to see where you were, what you were doing. And now I see that you’re even more amazing than what I already knew,” he responded. Eira looked back up at him and smiled. “The guy at the desk was nice. Also, this place is huge! A rink, locker rooms, and a spare studio space..” Kuon said. “Oh yeah Rick. He’s always been around,” Eira recalled. “And is my husband,” Eira’s coach spoke up. “I’m Jade by the way,” she said as she extended her hand to him. Kuon took it and shook hands with her shortly.

“So are you ready to go?” Kuon asked. Eira was about to respond before Jade cut in. “Actually, she has to practice her routines on the ice one more time before going anywhere.” “Alright,” Kuon responded with a short shrug. “What?” Eira came in. “Yeah! I haven’t gotten to see you skate in person before. It should be great,” Kuon said. Eira gave a modest smile before Jade began to push her out the door. “There’s no time to waste!”

They had made their way to the rink and sat at the bleachers. Eira began to lace up her skates then headed over to the ice. Kuon walked up to the rink barrier that divided the floor of the bleachers from the ice. “Eira,” he called before she could make it to the middle of the rink. She skated back towards him with a curious look. The barrier between them wouldn’t get in the way as he put his hands over the board, leaned in and kissed her. Having his eyes closed, he moved his hand to rest over hers. Eira was taken aback a moment, her eyes wide until she gradually closed them, reciprocating the kiss until Kuon broke the short moment. Eira could only blink at him as he smiled. “Good luck,” he said warmly. Eira grew a bashful smile in return and hurriedly skated out to the ice to mask the redness coming to her face. “Eira’s practicing her free skate and her short program. Ah, I’m so excited for her official debut I can’t stand it,” Jade said as she remained sitting on the bleacher as she crossed her arms. “The free skate is the longer of the two so it’s good to get it over with.”

Eira soon assumed her readied position and took in a deep breath. She then looked up at Jade and gave a short nod, signaling her to begin the music. She skated her routine for the song she sang herself for a previous event at Ryan’s school. She skated focused and elegantly throughout. Kuon watched with fixed eyes on her. Half-nervous at the possibility of her falling. He cringed slightly after each jump she performed. Jade gave a short chuckle. “Is this your first time seeing this in action? You don’t have to worry. She’s practiced this too many times to count. And if, on the most impossible circumstance, she does fall it’s nothing to just get back up and keep going,” she assured. “Huh, ok,” Kuon responded, her words managing to make him feel somewhat better. He turned back to watch Eira for the rest of her program until she ended with her finishing pose. You could see her attempt to catch her breath but her facial expression remained unfazed. Jade and Kuon clapped shortly, making Eira respond with a playful bow. Jade waited a moment for Eira to regain her breath before she played the next song for her short program. “Alright Eira, this is the one we’re getting the hang of. Focus and don’t think too much about the negatives,” Jade called out to her as she soon began the music. “Is she having trouble with this one?” Kuon asked as he turned to look at her again. “Ah yeah. She really wanted to use this song but it was difficult to come up with a good routine for it. It’s more upbeat, electropop, more dance than like.. interpretive. So what we got is an interesting attempt at a mixture of both elegant and dance which manages to trip her up,” Jade explained. Kuon furrowed his brows then turned to look at Eira’s routine. He noticed that her facial expression was more tense than how it was in her first routine. As the music began its first minute, it was a slow tempo which allowed Eira to complete a successful jump before the lyrics were heard. Kuon raised a brow and smirked. ‘Is that Ryan’s voice?’ He thought to himself as his smirk grew to a smile.

As the song continued Eira was able to perform spins and skate gracefully until they heard a beat come in which cued Eira for another jump that she performed prematurely, causing her to slip up before quickly recovering her balance and continuing on. Her moves became more complicated and fast, which looked impressive and matched the music, but seemed hard to handle. A break came as the music slowed down and a long note was held in the song. ‘Ryan can sing like that?’ Kuon thought being impressed at the siblings’ talents being used together. The song had slow moments where it seemed Eira became more relaxed and comfortable until the fast parts came again. After the song ended, Eira couldn’t keep her finishing pose as she bent down and put her hands to her knees as she caught her breath. “Eira?” Kuon called out to her as he raised an arm in front of him. She looked up at him then gave a smirk, reassuring him she was ok.

Later, they all went to take a break and sat at the bleachers. Eira put on her white and pink hoodie as Kuon bought hot chocolate for the three of them. “So what was that song for your short? I’ve never heard it,” Kuon asked with a smile. “Oh, it’s Ryan’s cover of a song he’s writing for Macey. He wanted to sing it himself as a test and oof, he could pull it off. But he insists on making it just for Macey. That her voice might compliment it a bit more he says,” Eira explained. “His version is just for you. That’s really cool of him,” he said. Eira nodded. They paused a moment as they took a sip from their drinks. “You know… I could probably help you with it,” he continued with a small smile. Eira turned to him with a raised brow. “Your program. I could teach you some stuff and you could even teach me. What do ya say?” He asked as he raised his cup to her. She hesitated a moment before Jade quickly came in and lifted her cup as well. “Oh thank god! Yes! Anything!” She said enthusiastically. Eira laughed shortly. “Alright. Let’s give it a go,” she said as she completed their cups coming together.

“So then, what are we doing first exactly?” Eira asked as she let down her hair then moved to hold Kuon’s hand, walking out of the rink together. “Well, if we’re gonna do this, you’re heading to my place of expertise,” He said in a confident tone. “You have an area of expertise here in New Athens? Wouldn’t your stuff be in Yumemi?” She asked unsurely. “No don’t worry. I take my expertise on the go. Kaze follows me everywhere,” he said. “Right..” Eira responded with an amused roll of her eyes. Kuon had walked to the rink from the hotel him and Kaze were staying in for their visit. It wasn’t a far distance so they walked back to the room he was staying in. They went up to the room as Kuon unlocked the door and abruptly swung it open. “Kaze! Get up you bum we’ve got work to do,” he called obnoxiously, knowing his brother would be asleep. Kaze jolted awake, making him sit up on the couch he was laying on. “Ah I’m up!” He said in a startled tone. A few cans fell to the floor and clattered. Eira went to pick up one of the cans and read the label. It was a popular type of energy drink. She walked up to Kuon and let him read the can as well. After he read the label, he walked up to Kaze and moderately slapped him behind the head. “Ow what the heck?” Kaze said as he rubbed his head. “What are you doing making yourself stay up again? You’re gonna get yourself sick again and who’s going to have to buy the flu medicine… again!” Kuon said. “No no don’t worry! Honestly, these are just from last night I swear. I haven’t been doing this for like nights in a row. I was just working on some new stuff for when we get back to Yumemi. This place is giving me new inspirations that are fueling me,” Kaze explained. Kuon went and pulled him by his arm to stand him up. He eyed him a moment until he brought him into a close hug. “Alright I believe you. Just try not to do anything crazy,” Kuon said. “But that’s what I’m all about,” Kaze joked as he hugged him back. “You know what I mean,” Kuon said more seriously. “I know,” Kaze responded seriously as well. They broke the hug then glanced over to Eira who only watched on.

“So what work did you say we have to do?” Kaze said as he went to sit on the couch again. “Ah for you, never mind. You clearly need to catch up on your sleep now. Wake up at a reasonable time and sleep again at a good time too to get your sleep schedule back in order,” Kuon instructed as he closed Kaze’s laptop and put it under his arm. “Yes dad,” He joked as he gave a fake salute. Kuon put his hand over his brother’s eyes and pushed him to lay down across the couch once again. “Rest up, Kaze. So that after I can see what you put together,” Eira said with a wink. Kaze smiled and nodded before closing his eyes. Kuon went to the bedroom and grabbed a duffle bag. He then took Eira’s hand and lead her out of the hotel room.

“What’s all that for?” Eira asked as she put her own duffle bag she had brought from skating besides his in the back seat of his car. “Do you know how to fight?” Kuon asked with a smile as he turned on the car. “Um.. kick boxing classes since before college, why?” She asked. ‘Oh man she could beat me up if she wanted to!’ Kuon thought to himself. “Oh! W-well then you’re already a step ahead! Dance is a combination of a lot of stuff and martial arts and fighting is one of them. We’re going to train up at my kind of gym,” he said surely. “And the laptop?” She asked pointing to it on her lap. “Music,” he responded. They soon drove to a recreational facility where it was open to use if you had a membership there. “Oh, I don’t have a NAFA membership..” Eira said as they got out of the car and walked to the building. “That’s ok, I have my membership from the one in Yumemi, YMFA. They’ll let you in anywhere and you can sign up under me as a guest,” he said surely. They walked in and were greeted by the woman at the desk. “Welcome to the New Athens Fitness Association. Membership card please?” She asked politely. “I came from Yumemi, I have the membership from the branch up there is that ok?” Kuon asked as he showed his card to her. “Totally fine, sir. Go on ahead,” she said. Kuon soon lead Eira to the fitness room after passing various studios and even a large swimming pool. “Ok! You already have fitness clothes on so I’ll get changed and we’ll work,” he said surely.

After they were ready, Kuon turned on the music and began to train with Eira. There would be moments when she would have to catch up with him and times where he would have to catch up with her. But then there would be that close moment where they would be in sync. They would jab and high-kick at their punching bag as they stood on opposite sides of it. After they had that training done, Kuon began to show her some of the dance moves he uses for his own dance group competitions. Eira put in the song she was using for her program and skipped to the fast paced parts to see what they could put together. Kuon would teach her how to do certain steps and how to perform complicated turns until she got the hang of it. After she had gotten their practice in, Eira changed the song to the slower pieces that she was more confident in and began to teach him a thing or two about her own experience. He would struggle with keeping his balance, causing her to laugh out loud. Kuon looked at her with a warm smile, watching how he was actually able to bring out a looser side of her. As they tried to practice on Kuon’s balance a final time, he began to fall to the ground before he dragged her down with him. They laughed a while as they lay on the floor. Kuon then opened his eyes to look at her. Noticing the silence, Eira opened her eyes as well. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in a warm tone. Eira rolled her eyes and chuckled before he tilted his head up and kissed her. They shared their moment until the double doors opened abruptly. “There you guys are! Are you ready because we need to get more practice in!” Jade said before she looked down at them. They looked back at her with wide surprised eyes. “Oh uh, am I interrupting something?”

The evening soon came and they made their way back to the ice rink. They greeted Rick and invited him to watch Eira’s attempt at perfecting her program. Kaze had stopped in as well and made his way into the rink. Jade and Rick went to sit on the bleachers while Kaze went to stand beside Kuon by the rink barrier. He fist bumped him shortly to greet him before they turned to look at Eira. Kuon looked on at her with eagerness for her to begin, gripping the barrier beneath his hands. Eira skated to the center of the ice as she tied her hair up once again. She took a breath then looked up at Kuon and gave a nod. He pressed play as the music began. The first minute of the song was the slow piece so Eira performed it with ease with small turns and skating. She landed a small jump before the lyrics began and continued to skate until the beat was set to come in. Once the beat came she performed her jump, landing it instantly. They all cheered excitedly as Eira continued, a smile growing on her face. She performed a smooth and quick step sequence with the beat of the music, incorporating turns and twirls. Once the music changed she performed another jump, landing it as well before going into a long scratch spin, going with the first long held note of the song. She then began to skate gracefully to go with the music that changed to a slower tempo. Kuon watched on with amazement and eagerness in his eyes. The music soon began to pick up again, cueing Eira for another jump, again landing it. She then went to the fast footwork once again, incorporating her arms to show she was dancing. The song was just about over as she performed the final jump before spinning at top speed to go with the final note being held in the song. Her spinning began to slow as only the small bit of instrumental was left before ending on her finishing pose. They all stood and cheered loudly, making Eira put her hands over her mouth in excitement but she still managed to give a short bow.

Eira made it over to the floor and was quickly hugged by Kuon and Kaze. “Hey I heard you were having a rough time with your stuff. If you were I’d never be able to tell! You did awesome!” Kaze said. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Eira! You’re so ready to kick this all the way home!” “Yeah, I’m impressed. Keep at it,” Jade and Rick came in. Her face began to flush at the attention she was receiving. “Hey, you mind if I share this moment?” Eira said. “Let’s do it!” Kaze said. Eira pulled her phone from her pocket, held it up, and took a group picture of all of them together. “First successful run through of my new short program. Can’t wait for the debut,” Eira read her post out loud before posting.

They all clapped shortly and began to talk amongst themselves until Kuon pulled Eira a bit to the side. “Eira,” he began modestly. “Thank you,” she interrupted. “What?” “I couldn’t have perfected my routine if it wasn’t for your help. Kuon I.. I love you for that,” she said as her face only grew in redness before she hugged him. He hugged her back as they enjoyed each other’s embrace until Kaze came by them and jokingly began to dance. “Let’s go out to celebrate on me!” He said in a sing-song voice, trying to match his joke moves. “Great, you have money right?” Kuon said as he raised a brow. Kaze stopped in place and thought a moment. “See you guys there,” he said as he ran out of the rink. Kuon shook his head before laughing shortly. He took Eira’s hand and began to walk out with her. “I love you too,” he said warmly.