#but its weirdly soothing to look at the shades of red

[love-and-monsters]

Polyam Alien Merfolk

GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words

Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.

CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.

“Is it like, alive?”

The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.

A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.

“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”

Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.

“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”

“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”

The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.

For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.

Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.

“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”

The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”

“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.

“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”

You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.

“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”

“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”

“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.

Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.

“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”

The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.

You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.

You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”

“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.

“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”

“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”

“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.

“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”

You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”

You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”

“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”

Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”

Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”

“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.

“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.

“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.

Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”

You nodded. “What do you do?”

“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.

You stared. “Mind the house?”

“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.

You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”

Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”

“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”

Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.

“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.

“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”

It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.

The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.

The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.

Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.

It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.

The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.

“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”

“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”

Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.

The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.

“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.

In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.

By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”

“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.

“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”

Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”

“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”

“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”

“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.

“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.

Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.

As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.

The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.

When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.

“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.

“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”

“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.

“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”

“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.

Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”

The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”

Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.

Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.

“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”

Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”

“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.

“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.

“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”

You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”

“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”

You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”

Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.

“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”

You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”

Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.

“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”

Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.

“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”

Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”

“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”

“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”

“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.

Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”

“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.

“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”

Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.

“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.

The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.

“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”

“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.

“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”

In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.

“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.

“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”

“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”

“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”

You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”

Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”

Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.

The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.

“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.

“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.

“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”

Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.

“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”

Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.

Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.

The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.

Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”

You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.

Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.

“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”

The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.

When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.

Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”

“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.

“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”

“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.

“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”

The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.

“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”

You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”

“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”

Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.

“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”

“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”

“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”

“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”

Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”

“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.

Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”

Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.

“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.

“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.

“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”

“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.

“Yes. I am too.”

[ms-indifferwnt]

“I’m Cold”

“I’m cold"

“And?”

“Can’t you give me your jacket or something?”

“Can’t you accept my proposal and marry me already?”

In which Prince Donghyuck’s parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I’ll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 7 of Im Cold. Tell me your thoughts, appreciate it if you guys leave likes and commentssss

WORD COUNT:  3.1k

Prev / Chapter 7 / Next

Donghyuck ran to the tea room where the other princes were sitting and enjoying themselves, drinking coffee and tea, telling each other jokes and teasing each other

"Have you seen Y/n?" he asks opening the doors with a loud thud, his dress shoes clicking against the marble floor, his sudden entrance catching everyone's attention "I went to her room to wake her up but she wasn't there"

Doyoung was there serving coffee to Prince Lucas who spoke up "The ladies went to the garden at midnight"

Donghyuck not even batting an eyelash he turns on his heal and walks in the direction of the garden, with the rest of the Princes right behind him, once he arrived at the garden he let out a breath of relief once he saw you, laughing along with the rest of the girls and when he approached all of them bowed and Y/n stood up, and Donghyuck had a clear view of her legs, and her short shorts that was being covered by the oversize shirt that had a name 'Hendery' he read, his face scrunching, who was Hendery? Why did you have his shirt but then you smiled at him, any thought before that abandoned

"Are you ok?" You asked and tilted your head and a happy Lucas hugged Donghyuck from behind and Donghyuck had to pry him off "Let me go"

"I thought lover boy wanted a hug" He teases and then pinches his cheeks

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Jaemin sits beside his Fiance "Forgive us for barging in on your girl time ladies," He bows appreciatively to Doyoung who handed him coffee "Prince Donghyuck panicked when he couldn't find Lady Y/n, even though he knows that you girls like staying in the garden to talk"

Dongyuck blinked and then blushed a deep shade of red in realization, this little meeting was completely forgotten by him when he couldn't find you, as everybody snickered and teased him even more, his eyes trailing to you who was shushing them and stopping them from saying anymore. His eyes moved lower on your form, landing on your bare thigh and e quickly looks up, his heart skipping a beat, he looked directly into your eyes "Are you ok with what your wearing?"

He blinks "What?" and you laugh your oversized shirt and changing into a pair of loose fitting shirt and shorts reaching your thigh, neither of you were surrounded by the Prince's and there Fiance's, both of you were in your room and helping wear something more relaxing and free, He remembers what's going on now, why did he have to think about that now? "Do I really have to wear this?"

"Yes" you quickly answered "You are not wearing your expensive suits, your highness" you said looking up at him from your position in dusting his shoulders, before you pull away, pink dusting your cheeks. Donghyuck has actually noticed that any form of physical contact from anyone would get you to glow a shade of pink. and he did not like it. He woke up from his thoughts once he sees you accidentally hit your hand against the lock of the jewelry box, making you yelp and he rolls his eyes, you were cutely helpless, he has been a witness of how clumsy you could be and he always wondered how you lived this long as a maid in the palace, you were massaging your hand in an attempt to soothe the sting

"I don't see the difference" He replies and grabs your hand, checking and helping you massage your finger "They're just clothes"

"Expensive clothes" You shot back and he smiles, he adores moments like this proof of how much you've gotten close  to him that you've learned to treat him like a friend. "You said you wanted to experience my usual routine, so no expensive clothes" you pulled your hand away and he nods

"Ok" He relents and takes the jacket you offered him "I am in your hands today"

The smile that greeted him made Donghyuck blind, it was dazzling, you really look beautiful when you smile, he wanted to take a photo of you like that a memento to keep. "Don't worry your highness"

"You're telling me you go out for chores with money that is given to you," He looks at the money your placing in your wallet "And you don't get snacks I'm between?"

You laugh, shaking your head "We get snacks, when we're not working" You said walking passed the garage and Donghyuck grimaces as he points at his car "No car" you pointed

He looks at you weirdly "Surely you're kidding"

You pursed your lips

"How do we get there then?"

"Commute"

"This is a joke"

You laugh "You've ever been on public transport before my Prince?"

He shakes head "Not when you got a car at you beck and call," He huffs "Can't we just take my baby?" You looked at him "Yes, Yes I know naming my car baby is not ok,"

"Well, I think its cute in that context" You cut him off and pushed him passed the garage and out of the palace

He blushes and clears his throat "Aww Y/n" He calls and puffs his cheeks as some of the maids watched the interaction and he holds your hand "My Love, You will pay for not letting me ride my baby, going to take you shopping 'till your legs hurt"

You scrunched your nose and locked your hands making him look at you "Lets go, Whiny Prince"

"Please treat us normally" You smiled at the flustered shop owner who has been bowing a full ninety degree to you and the Prince and you shook your hand  "I just wanted to show the prince around"

He look as at the prince who smiles and nods and heled him straiten up "Please right now We are a customer" He takes a step back to adjust the bags he took from you even though you had pointed out you could carry them but he has refused  to hand it to you  "We are in your hands" he bows and you follow suit, the flustered shop owner hurriedly assisted you both to not bow in front of him and leads you around his shop

Eventually he relaxed and despite having both the Prince and his Fiancé in his shop, you were tasked to find some silk and cloth that The Queen might like for her new dress and you checked to see if the material was of good quality for the queen's dress

Donghyuck on the other hand wasn't paying attention to anything but you, the dress maker is known in the village for being favored by his mother so its no surprise when he spots some of the dresses his mother had bought already in boxes, but of course his mother likes hand crafting majority of her clothes which is why you were here checking the fabric. The shop owner placed coffee on the table, "Please have some coffee" The owner says and Donghyuck takes a cup

"I'm sorry but Y/n doesn't drink-" he starts knowing you don't like the taste of coffee but he was cut off with you taking a sip before bowing politely at the owner thanking him for the drink, he looks at you and raises an eyebrow as you take another sip and when the dress maker looked away you made a face and put the cup down "You hate coffee" he notes

"Yeah" you agreed and took the cup again but not making a move to drink "He made it for us, it would be rude of me to decline" You smiles and Donghyuck stopped breathing at the sight as you tucked a strand of hair but to no avail it was to short to be tucked properly and Donghyuck had to remind himself to breathe

You stood up once they called you, your coffee unfinished, done with the orders the boxes all placed in a bag and you bowed giving them the money and they bowed back thankful to have met you and the prince Donghyuck takes the bag full of cloth and the other one is his mother's dresses from you "Your highness" You tried to take it from him again but he raises an eyebrow "No, you will not carry all of these," You grabbed the others, the bag of cloths for rags and the other bag that is full off broom's and dusters "The dresses are more heavy than this I'll carry this"

"Y/n"

"Donghyuck" You replied as well and he sighs "You're the Prince, if you want to help then carry those"

He nods "If you get tired we're taking a break ok?"

You smile and he was relieved you looked to serious he though he has upset you "You'll be surprised" you said taking another bad that Donghyuck was adamant in not letting you carry, scurrying to the door before he could say anything

He walked in front of you making sure you won't be able to get out using the door and you huff as he grabs the bag "I don't think so" He says and flashes you a smile "Where to next?"

You scrunched your nose the way you do which is almost the equivalent of a roll of an eye and Donghyuck knows you've developed that habit when the Royals would annoy you and instead of rolling your eyes you'd scrunch your nose. Donghyuck is absolutely smitten with this habit of yours, when he discovered it when he forced you to go ice skating with him and he laughs at you while you kept falling, he watched you scrunch your nose and he didn't even realize he pinched it "Love," he remembers his words "You are absolutely adorable"

"Did you hear me?" You asked with a tilt of your head and he nods making you scrunch your nose again "What did I say?" He blinks then his cheeks painted red, making you laugh "To the market but first lets leave this to Daeshim" You nodded your head in the direction of a man waiting by a car "He'll take these to the palace while we're at the market"

Donghyuck separates from her for a minute once something catches his eyes, smiling at the maiden who was manning the shop he bows appreciatively as he sees what he spotted and bought it

He returns to you and he sees that man from a while ago, you didn't even notice his disappearance, from a far he could already say that Daeshim seems like a nice guy, he seemed decent enough and he was familiar Donghyuck could tell they would get along not until the boy ran up to you and gave gave you hug that made you slightly lift off the ground and made you squeak, He and Donghyuck will not get along now

"Y/n Look at you!" He exclaims and spins you around making you laugh "You look so pretty," He finally puts you down once he catches the glare the Prince sends his way, He bows and playfully elbows your side "Fiancé huh?" you just laugh "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I should've?"

"If I was getting married wouldn't you want to know too?"

You grinned "No not really" You teased and he smiles finding your answer amusing but he pretended to get angry and swiped the bags from you

"Rude. Don't talk to me" He says and placed the bags in the car that was waiting, you just laughed and moved to assist Donghyuck in placing the bags inside since he didn't let Daeshim take it

"Who's going to assist me today?" You asked once Donghyuck closes the door and Daeshim points at himself, Donghyuck did not like that

"My brother will be taking the goods to the palace and I was tasked to guide the Prince and Hi Fiancé around the market"

"Your brother?" You asked right before Donghyuck could say something snarky, waving to the slightly younger boy behind the wheel "We haven't met yet, I'm Y/n and this is Prince Donghyuck"

He bows "Its an honor to meet the both of you, My name is Yejun" He smiles and looks at you "Hyung  talks a lot about you Noona"

You looked at Daeshim "He does? Like what?"

Daeshim hits the car to get your attention "and that's enough. Go on Yejun, Drive"

Yejun laughs and waves, bowing at you and The Prince before entering the car and starting its engine "Noona," He calls to get your attention, it did "Hyung says you're really pretty" He says before driving off

Donghuck was sure now. He resents Daeshim.

Daeshim and you were walking on ahead side by side, Daeshim's cart behind him with Donghyuck slightly in front, He had taken it upon himself to be quiet and listen in on your conversation, it was rude he knows that but he was angry and he could care less

"Wait" You called out to the both of them as you smiled at a stand owner, raising your hand to shake hers, she smiles at you as you started buying vegetables from her stand, giving her money before you spin to pace it in Daeshim's cart only to be stopped by Donghyuck grabbing it too "I'll put it in Daeshim's cart"

"I'll carry it" He says superiorly, his voice dripping with both anger and authority as if he'll punish you if you make a wrong move, your lips locked, staring at his face as if that will give you an answer on why he was angry but then Daeshim opens his mouth to at least try and get the Prince to place them on his cart, which is his job "And You," The Prince looks at Daeshim "Not a word out of you" You looked at him more intently and he looks back at you tugging on the bag of vegetables "Give" He commanded and you froze, letting him take it

He walks ahead and you and Daeshim stared at the Princes back before you followed after him to lead him to the next shop on the list, you were afraid of Donghyuck when he is angry and he knows this, you left quite a huge gap in between the both of you and he sighs, he was being petty and now he was being even more petty in hopes that you'll speak to him and coax him into not being mad anymore

You went ahead and turned to stare at him "Why are you angry?" You asked, despite being afraid of getting yelled at you wanted to know what could've triggered such a sudden reaction "Was it because of me? Tell me?"

Yes. Its because of you, I don't want you close to anyone else, I don't understand why I'm like this or why I'm angry over something so minor or why he absolutely loathes the man following behind the both of you. But that anger disappeared once he meets your eyes, you were afraid, and he can see how your trying your best to not cower under his eyes. He didn't like seeing you like this, he didn't like seeing you were afraid, especially cause of him. He pats his pocket retrieving the item he had bough, the hair clip that was in a shape of a ribbon and moved to clip that hair you were trying to tuck away last time, "You smile cause you know you'll get attention" He answers, it was the truth, your smile being the thing that plague his thoughts and your wonderful laugh was music to his ears, how he loves your smile and laugh, he loves coaxing that out of you but this time it was directed at someone else and not him

You tilted your head at his words, flinching when he clips your hair "Thank you" you whispered before trying to understand or think of a possible scenario that actually lead to his words trying to figure out the scenario "What?" You asked confused and looked at him "You're not making any sense"

He looks to the side not giving that shadow of a smile, that you have recently grown fond of and you resisted the urge to frown "I know" he answers and moves to take a step out of your way and moved on ahead, he hated how his feeling were in valid, they were nothing and they are only making it hard especially with the thought of the deal almost coming to an end, by the end of the weak you will no longer be his, and all his problems will be solved, no more parents forcing him to date, no more girls trying to cling, no more, he stops, no more you, he will be happy after al of this right? Of course he will. Just a couple of days, he thinks Just a little more and 2 weeks are up

"I'm sorry" You spoke and he looks at you "I-I don't know what I did" You answered and almost everybody looks at the scene unfold before them, how The Prince and his Fiancé seem to be in a fight, Neither of you cared at least not at the moment, Donghyuck could see the glistening in your eyes, you were upset and it was starting to frustrate you to the point your tears won't be in check, he knows that expression, he caused that expression. The ache in his heart returned at the sight and he watches you as your hand clings on to the necklace he bought you "I'm sorry, please-" you licked your lips to ground your tears as they threaten to spill "Please don't look at me like I hurt you not when I don't even know what I did" You hang your head

Donghyuck didn't know his expression gave away that much and he looked away, taking a deep breath as he walks back to you to drop the bags on Daeshim's cart and reached down to grab the list "Lets finish this up and head back to the palace" He says and moves to walk ahead again, leaving you and Daeshim behind

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeongljin @rebel-lious-alien  @ingridraft @daydreamiies @channiespup @jaeshark @itlittlefangirl

If you wanna be added, leave a comment♡♡

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 13

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

Astrid could hear the soft gurgling of the stream long before she saw it. Hiccup led her around several groups of trees, through dense thicket, over narrow footpaths so hidden, she wondered if he’d formed them himself or if he’d been here so often, he knew every single step by heart. Probably both.

Ducking underneath the low-hanging leaves of a beech and evading the thorned twigs of a blackberry bush, they arrived on a small meadow, blooming and buzzing in the warm sunlight. She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the sweet smell of late spring.

The stream was about ten feet wide, shallow water so clear she could count the pebbles at the bottom glistening in the light. She admired the way the current smoothly ran over and past the stones sticking out of the water, some big and round, some flat, serving as slippery step stones.

All around, leaves were rustling in the faint breeze, coming together with the humming and buzzing activity in the grass and the calming melody of the water in a soothing symphony.

The grass tickled her ankles as she slowly made her way to the bank of the stream, looking around and taking it all in. “This place is amazing.”

“It’s my favorite place in the forest.” Hiccup followed her and sat down on a small rock near the water. “Apart from the small cove my father used to take me to for fishing. It’s a bit further downstream, but last week I found a little fox family there and I don’t want to disturb them.”

She gently nudged him with her foot. “Scooch over.” When he moved to the side to make room on his rock, she settled down next to him. The surface of the rock was rather flat and not very big, just enough for two lean people to share without one butt cheek hanging over the side. It also meant that her entire side was pressed against his. He was warm and soft and comfortable. And maybe she leaned into him a bit, but only because she didn’t want to slide off the rock.

They sat in silence for a while. Astrid leaned back on her hands as far as she could on this surface and took in the scenery. Lining the meadow and the creek, knobby trees covered in ivy stood among straight trunks with white-gray pattern; overgrowing shrubbery, weeds and wildflowers nestled the ground close to their roots.

And there was green. Wherever she looked, everything was green, in different shades and shapes and sizes. When she breathed in through the nose, she could practically smell the luscious colors, along with the May bells and mayweed and the scent of fresh water in spring.

A gentle breeze brushed through her hair, harmonizing with the rustling of the leaves and the mellow mumbling and babbling of the water. Chirping and tweeting sounded from the trees, accompanied by the squeaking and cheeping of the baby birds hidden in the branches. A small, thin tree had grown low across the stream, its twigs hanging into the water, and she imagined the smaller animals using it as a bridge so they didn’t get wet feet or got carried away by the current.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a tuft of red and white swiftly disappearing up the trunk of a tree. A vole scurried through the leaves on the other side of the stream. Occasionally, a sudden ripple on the water revealed a glimpse of the activity below the surface. She knew that the longer she waited, the more the life of the forest would reveal itself to her. There was no traffic, no people, just her and Hiccup and their promised nature quality time.

Also belonging to the scenery was one dashing young man with the kind of chiseled jaw covered in stubble that could kill a man – or woman. He was focused on something unspecific in the water. In the sunlight, his hair looked like it would catch on fire any moment. Even his eyelashes were glowing. Was it possible to be hot in a dorky way? Apparently. She took a deep breath and followed his gaze to the mesmerizing dance of light and tiny waves on the surface of the water.

After a few minutes of silence, she started plucking at a long blade of grass until she held half of it in her hand. Staring at the stream, she absentmindedly ripped the blade in tiny pieces. “I’m afraid Eret’s cheating on me.” She opened her palms and the grass landed on her shoes without a sound while she waited. She didn’t even know what she was waiting for, or why she’d admitted to that in the first place. She suspected the peacefulness of this place had gained her trust.

Hiccup regarded her thoughtfully. “Why do you think that?”

She crossed her arms with a sigh. “He keeps talking about this coworker of his. How much fun they have at work. How they always get stuck after their shift ends because of their infinite amount of conversation topics. It’s always ‘my coworker’ this and ‘my coworker’ that. And then last March, on their department’s spring party, I met Dana. She kept going on and on and on about how funny he is, how capable and handsome.” She tugged at a whole clump of grass, in desperate need to rip something apart. “She was practically throwing herself at him.”

“Hmm,” Hiccup made. “Have you talked to him about that?”

She huffed. “Oh, I have. I confronted him two weeks ago. He didn’t take the accusation that well.”

“You… blatantly accused him of cheating? I don’t think anyone would take that well.”

“How else was I supposed to talk to him about it? Ask him nicely if he has a mistress?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Yes. No? I don’t know. I guess there’s a more delicate way to approach that subject.”

“I’m a straight-forward person, I don’t like to beat around the bush. So when he started his next sentence with my coworker and I, I just snapped. I was so sick of it.”

“What happened?”

“It escalated. We yelled. Then while he packed for his work trip, I packed to go live with my parents for a while. Said I needed some distance. He said I didn’t even need to leave the house for that, because I was already acting distant. I said that the same would go for him. And the yelling started again and then we left and… Well.” She vaguely gestured around. “Here I am.”

“Sounds like a real mess.”

“It is.” She bit her lip. “What do you think I should do?”

He looked at her in earnest, sincerity deep in his eyes. “I think you should talk to him about how you feel. And maybe this time, leave out the blunt accusations.”

She groaned and threw her head back. “I don’t want to talk about my feelings.”

“At some point, you will have to. Take it from a guy who as a teenager ran away from every single confrontation because he was too afraid of failure and an outcome more negative than the actual situation.”

The boulder was back in her stomach. She wondered what would happen if she went into the water now. Why had she brought up the topic again? Because she’d felt comfortable enough to do so? And weirdly, despite her old friend the boulder, she wanted to get another thing off her chest. Desperately.

“I took a pregnancy test last night.” She felt his eyes bore into the side of her head.

“Are you…?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Oh.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. “Is that… I mean, did- did you… Are you- are you okay?”

Ripping out more grass, she scrunched up her face. “Yeah. I’m relieved, I guess. I mean, I always knew I wanted to have kids at some point, but…”

“But now’s not a good time,” he finished the sentence for her and she nodded. If she had been pregnant, then the whole situation would have been more complicated. She probably would have rushed back into a relationship that still needed more sorting out, ignoring any problems for the sake of the child. But that would have just made all parties involved more miserable.

She smiled at Hiccup. “Thanks. You’re good to talk to.” That was probably an understatement. It was somehow so easy to tell him about things she hadn’t even yet mentioned in passing around anyone else. They’d just started to really get to know each other, and she already trusted him completely. Her mother would call her naïve. But Astrid knew better, and so did he, judging by the meaningful look he gave her.

“Anytime.”

Before she could change her mind, she leaned her head on his shoulder. She could feel him freeze for a moment, but then he relaxed and slowly leaned his own head against hers. The boulder inside her dissolved.

A woodpecker joined them somewhere on their left, a cuckoo called faintly in the distance. She closed her eyes. The sun warming her face and the songs of nature were like a lullaby, luring her in for a nap. She’d almost drifted off when a gentle nudge brought her back. Looking up at Hiccup, she opened her mouth to say something, but he shook his head and pointed ahead.

There, on the other side of the stream, a deer poked its head out of the underbrush. It stood still for a moment, its nose quivering, before it slowly stalked towards the water. With one last check of its surroundings, it lowered its head and started drinking. Astrid didn’t dare to move a muscle or make the slightest sound.

However, a low gasp escaped her when a second deer came onto the meadow, then a third. One of them set its gaze onto the two humans on the other side, regarding them, and after a good twenty seconds of staring decided they were no threat. It was an incredible feeling. Her hand slowly reached for her phone, but before she could take it out of her pocket, Hiccup closed his hand over hers and shook his head. "Shh," he made, so quietly she almost didn't hear it. Her heart was pounding.

When the breeze suddenly picked up and carried their scent over, the deer tensed, holding their noses up in the air immediately. From one second to the other, all three of them leapt up and bolted, the snapping of twigs in the underbrush growing fainter by the second. The woodpecker, bumblebees and gurgling of the water slowly came back into focus. She and Hiccup looked at each other with a spark in their eyes.

“Thanks,” she whispered and he raised his eyebrows in question. “For taking me here.”

“Ah, you’re welc–” His voice died when she suddenly leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. With wide, green eyes he stared at her, and she assumed her expression mirrored his. Her lips tingled, warm and exciting. The sensation wandered down her arm into her hand and she managed to break away from his gaze to look down. He followed her eyes and when he realized his hand was still holding hers, he gulped and slowly pulled away, the nerves under her skin longing to chase his touch.

“We… We should probably get going,” she feebly suggested.

“Yeah,” he agreed, voice an octave higher than normal. “That’s exactly what I was gonna… Get going.” Looking anywhere but at her, he scrambled up from the rock and orientated himself. “There- let’s… Uh, let’s go there.”

For some reason, her knees needed a moment before they let her walk after him. Whatever that had just been, she should just forget about it. She followed Hiccup through the trees, no paths directing the way. All she could do was trust him that he knew where he was going, and she did. He led her up a small hill, leaves and twigs crunching under their steps.

“Hey, your shoe is untied,” she noted. He stopped to look down and a soft oh escaped him. It was cute.

While she readjusted her socks that were slowly slipping from her heel, he bent over to relace his shoes, giving her a good look at his backside. From her point of view – which was completely neutral, of course – he had a nice butt. When he stood again, she jogged past him and gave it a light slap.

“Astrid!” he exclaimed in surprise.

She just smirked at him. “Come on, slowpoke!” Then she sprinted down the other side of the hill.

“Oh, you!” she heard him call before he took after her, chasing her through the woods. She made it down the hill, past a group of birches and around a thick beech when he came around the other side of it, throwing his arms around her and lifting her up. “Gotcha!” He immediately let go of her after, walking further down the invisible path only he could see.

She had to catch her breath for a second before she fell back in step beside him. From the sprint. “Just so you know, I let you win.”

“No, no you didn’t!” he countered in a chipper tone.

“Because I was tired of playing catch.”

“Nope, you weren’t.” She stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh. “You’re so mature, Ms. Hofferson.”

“That’s because I’m older than you.”

“By two months! Hey, watch your step, there’s a lot of vines here.” Naturally, he promptly stumbled over one, catching himself on a tree.

“Watch your step, there’s lots of vines here.”

He shook his head. “Well, aren’t you a little smartass.”

“Takes one to know one,” she shrugged.

“Eh, can’t argue with that.”

She brushed her fist along his arm again and caught his grin.

All too soon, she began to make out traffic and chatter in the distance again. It felt like leaving a different, peaceful universe, where the rest of the world and its problems didn’t exist. It was kind of disappointing. And if that wasn’t enough, on their way back to the cars, her phone started ringing with a very familiar name filling the screen. She sighed. She didn’t want to deal with that right now, but knew that ignoring his call wouldn’t make anything any better.

She threw Hiccup an apologetic look and held her phone against her ear. “Hi.”

“Hey.” There was an awkward beat of silence. “I’m on my way home and uh… I just wanted to know if you’re there.”

“No.”

“Are you… still in Berk? At your parents’ place?”

“Yes.”

“Do… Do you know when you’ll be coming back?”

“No.”

When her answers didn’t become more elaborate, Eret cleared his throat, and after years of being with him, she could tell he was about to say something he’d rather not say at all. “You, um. You were right, by the way. About Dana.” Bright red warning bells rang in her mind at that name. “She kissed me last night.” He cleared his throat and gulped audibly.

She stepped past the last line of trees and onto the gravel of the parking lot, and leaving the woods had never felt this sobering. “I fucking knew it,” she mumbled through clenched teeth.

“Astrid–”

“I knew it!”

“Hey, hold on, please let me finish!”

She walked a small distance away from Hiccup and any other people in the near vicinity. No need for them to overhear her personal drama. “Fine, I’m listening!”

“Like I said, you were right, she wanted–”

“Did you kiss her back?”

“No–”

“So there’s nothing going on between you and your coworker?”

He didn’t immediately answer and his hesitation stung. “Will you just let me explain?!”

“You didn’t answer my question!” She was yelling and she knew it. People were turning their heads so she glowered at them.

“And you didn’t let me speak in the first place! You know what, my mother’s right, sometimes you really do act like my personal dictator.”

Astrid’s jaw dropped to the floor. “WELL, FUCK YOU TOO!” she screamed and it took everything in her to not fling her phone across the parking lot. Instead, she hung up and forcefully kicked at a large pebble on the ground. It whirled up dust and gravel and hit a stranger’s car. She couldn’t care less. Everything inside her was fuming. How dare he? How dare they?!

With a frustrated growl, she turned around and walked back to Hiccup. He had given her some space and was leaning against his car.

“Everything alright?” he asked carefully at her aggressive body language.

“I was right! Eret just told me! He and his stupid fucking coworker!”

“So… He admitted to cheating on you?”

“Well, no, not in those words, but…”

“So he didn’t?”

“He was telling me the story of how he and Dana had fun last night, but I just...”

“You avoided the topic.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then huffed. “I didn’t need to hear any details.”

“Hm,” he made, thoughts scurrying across his face. “Are you sure there isn’t more to the story than you think? Maybe you should talk–”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she interrupted him, the words breaking out of her on their own.

He held up his hands in defense. “Geez, sorry. I’m just trying to help.”

Something churned inside her stomach, between all the raging knives, something akin to guilt. Seeing his expression, her shoulders untensed a little. “No, sorry for yelling at you. I’m just so– ugh!” Her fist punched the next best thing, which was the metal pole of a parking sign. A flash of pain shot through her knuckles and she shook her hand out with a hiss.

“Hey, can I say something?” Hiccup asked, caution coating his voice with his eyes set on her aching hand.

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t include the word overreaction.”

He shook his head, brows furrowed in contemplation. “I might be going out on a limb here, but… Do you think that, maybe, you want it to be true?”

“Why on Earth would I want that?!”

“Because… Because you’re not happy in your relationship and- and this way, you can put the blame on someone other than yourself.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” The blazing wall of fire burned every shred of guilt and sympathy she felt.

He held up his hands again. “I’m just saying, you accused him of cheating, kept yelling at him – I’m assuming offensively – and now you yelled at him again instead of hearing him out. Is that what happened or am I totally off-base here?”

“Are you taking his side?!”

“No! If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be involved in this at all!”

“Then why are we still having this conversation?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest as he sighed.

“Because I care about you. And I hate seeing you digging yourself deeper into this mess, so I’m trying to help you realize what to do.”

“Really? Then what is it I should do?”

“Let him give you his side of the story. Without any yelling.”

She leaned against the pole, suddenly very tired. “I…”

“You know,” he said when she didn’t continue, avoiding his searching eyes, “for someone claiming to be so straightforward, you sure like to run from truthful conversations.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, voice rising again.

He looked at her for a moment, then shook is head. “Never mind.”

“No, if you have something to say, then say it!”

After a short contemplating glance, he stood up straight. “Fine. You say you don’t like to beat around the bush, but how come we’re not talking about what happened on your wedding day? Or at Dagur’s party? Are we just going to ignore all that until we die?”

“What- I don’t- We-” she stuttered, her stomach dropping further than the ground beneath her feet. At once, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and confused at the same time. Her mind decided on the next best defense mechanism. “What is there to talk about?” She could see the small change in his eyes, a gray curtain falling, tired, disappointed, sad.

“You’ll keep denying it, won’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question and that somehow hit even harder.

“What is there to deny?”

Suddenly, he took a large step towards her, until he was so close, their noses were almost touching. She could feel the heat of his body, smell his deodorant, make out every tiny hair on his face and the miniscule change of skin tissue at the edges of the long, white scar on his chin. Her breath hitched, heart pounding rapidly, her entire being longing to close the remaining gap between their bodies. Her knees weakened. It was hard to not get mesmerized by his eyes, a deep, green galaxy right before her. She tore her eyes away from them, only to latch onto his lips. She couldn’t breathe.

Like detaching himself from a magnet, he slowly stepped back and the air found its way back into her lungs. She could hear her heartbeat in every cell of her body, had trouble making sense of her surroundings, like waking up in a dark room with only a sliver of light coming from an unknown direction. By the time her feet touched solid ground again, mere seconds could have passed, or entire lifetimes.

“You’re right,” he said, strained voice cutting right through her chest, “there’s nothing to talk about. You dropped your phone, by the way.” With that, he got into his car, reversed out of the parking spot, and drove away. Even after he was long gone and the sound of his engine had faded in the distance, Astrid was still rooted to the spot, staring in the direction he had disappeared.

It took her a while to reassemble herself, clear the fog in her mind, will her heartbeat to finally slow down. On autopilot, she picked her phone up from the ground, wiped the gravel off the screen, saw the new variation of tiny scratches on the back but didn’t truly see anything. Her mind was still drowning in the sudden proximity to Hiccup Haddock, which shouldn’t have shaken her as much as it had, considering she’d sat close to him merely an hour ago.

Only when she was back in her own car, weaving her way through Berk’s rush hour traffic, her fingers stopped twitching at the memory of being almost skin to skin with him. As the fog was clearing, her confusion began settling, the puzzle pieces setting themselves back together, and a fist of steel closed around her still thumping heart.

It remained like that for the rest of the day. She managed to smile, make small talk, be present enough to get through the conversations with her parents, avoiding too much eye contact, especially with her mother. She probably noticed her mental absence but knew it would be futile to try and get anything out of her.

Astrid went to bed at ten; she tossed, turned, buried her face in her pillow until long past midnight. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, lying in the dark in her old bedroom, there was no place to hide from her mind. It insisted on replaying the whole day over and over, gnawing and nibbling away at her from the inside. When she closed her eyes, she saw green irises, a storm of freckles dancing across her retina, lips so close her fingers twitched to touch them, her own lips puckering. And even though it’s been several hours, she could still feel his hand on hers, warm and gentle and setting a blazing fire to her core.

He kept haunting her, occupying her every thought, every beat of her heart. Her ribs were aching from the steel inside her chest, pressing cold and heavy against her heart and lungs ever since her fight with Hiccup. She felt terrible. All he’d done was be honest, something she had not been with herself for a very long time, and she’d lashed out at him just like she had at Eret and her mother.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and squinted at the bright screen. Opening the right messenger app, she drafted an apology message, deleted it several times, all the time hoping he wasn’t looking at his side of the chat right now and saw her typing. Because in the end, she’d gone through at least ten versions of the same text and didn’t send any of them. None of them sounded right, didn’t fully convey the sincerity of her feelings. Instead, she got lost in her thoughts again, staring at the ceiling, phone forgotten beside her with the screen gone dark from long inactivity.

Gazing down at her was a pair of eyes. Lighter towards the middle, a dark green ring at the edges, and depending on how the light hit them, either forest green or a brilliant shade of emerald. It was so fascinating to watch him, to survey the everchanging expressions on his face, his emotions an open book most of the time. The way his eyebrows dipped, the corners of his mouth twitched or the crinkles around his eyes deepened, eyes always the most telling. How his features changed with every new thought, every new idea, and the way his shoulders and hands could carry half the conversation for him.

The sound of his laugh, sometimes dorky, sometimes sassy, sometimes charming, and always so uniquely Hiccup. That lopsided smile of his that could turn into a smirk when he thought of something witty to say. How he listened to her, even when all she was spouting was a bunch of mundane bullshit. How he showed interest in everything she said and did. His kind nature, his honesty, his spirit. The way he could turn her insides to mush and her soul to dangle freely a few thousand feet in the air by just a look or a simple touch. How he inspired her to be herself.

Never before had she been this intrigued by someone, never had she wanted to discover every little thing there was to know about another person. Wanted him to know her better than she did herself. Wanted to know him better than anyone else. Wanted him with her here, next to her, right now. Wanted to feel his warmth, his touch, his breath ghosting over her lips, over her skin, before tracing every line, every patch of skin on her body with his tongue. A deep, longing sigh escaped her as she imagined all the things she wanted him to do to her, everything she wanted to do with him. Craved him more than she ever had anyone else.

But above all, she couldn’t keep running from the truth any longer, especially since it was blaring in her face like a trumpet. As soon as she opened that gate, the steel in her chest melted, glowing and smoldering as it encased her heart. A giddy thrill coursed through her, as well as fatigue, as she finally gave in, let the wall crumble brick by brick. By the time the first choked sob rocked her body, the tears were already flooding down her face, hot and salty, paired with incredulous laughter.

Fuck. This was it, wasn’t it? She was undeniably and irrevocably screwed.

[kwantified]

waffles - zhong chenle

genre: highschool!chenji, fluff word count: 2.6k synopsis: a snitched secret leaves you feeling guilty, but there’s always chenle (and food). lowercase intended.

disclaimer! mild swearing (as teens do) and apologies in advance if it’s cringey. i’m new to this!

"fuck chaeri, they're going to kill me!"

"she needs to know! someone likes her!"

"but you don't know the name, though? what's the point?" at this moment, you realise it would've been better to have never told chaeri anything at all. damn it. who knew the same person who was able to keep all of your crushes since the seventh grade was now willingly announcing someone's feelings to the one person they shouldn't be announced to - at least, not yet.

"that's exactly the point. it's even more exciting to guess!" chaeri continues, "also, it's about time she gets a love life. i'm pretty sure ballet gets tiring sometimes."

you pull her shoulder, hoping to hold her back. your effort ignored, she instead approaches your friend, hong mijung, sitting on the leftmost seat in classroom 1-C. you watch in defeat as chaeri's lanky figure sways her way to the girl on the other side of the room. she tells mijung in squeals, a mix of excitement and shock. you could practically see mijung's heart drop after hearing her words.

mijung stands up, following chaeri to the hallway. her face is flushed bright red and her mouth moves fast. chaeri only reassures the shorter girl, trying to calm her down from the flustering news. it's an amusing sight; seeing mijung jump out of her calm, relaxed demeanour.

thankfully, you'd managed to stop yourself from spilling any names, and if mijung's already skipping beats at the idea of someone crushing on her, you can only imagine her usual ballerina bun undoing itself once she found out the hip-hop dancer from the studio upstairs had feelings for her.

feeling bouts of guilt and relief, you decide to head to your locker. exams are finally over; that means emptying your backpack of multiple textbooks and freeing you of weighted hell - even if that meant you would lose your only means of exercise.

"boo." you jump at the familiar voice behind you.

"halloween's so last season, zhong chenle," you turn around and get an eye-roll in response.

chenle cocks his head at the two girls heading downstairs, "what's going on with mijung?"

"why do you want to know?"

"because she doesn't usually do..." he trails off into silence. you begin to hear mijung's voice echo from two stories below, and chenle snaps his fingers, "...that."

"point taken," you try to find something in your locker to fiddle with, wanting to dismiss the conversation.

he folds his arms, leaning on the lockers in front of you. "anyways, what happened?"

you feel his gentle eyes waiting on your answer, and that's when you realise it's too late to scram.

"would you be mad if someone leaked your feelings for someone without your permission to the person you have feelings for?"

chenle thinks for a moment, "yeah."

"...don't tell me you did that," you can hear his cheery tone drop.

"to my defence, i didn't tell it was jisung," you pause, "i told chaeri, and chaeri only, that someone likes mijung." you began.

"should i tell jisung? mijung has class after this and i don't want her getting all giddy talking about crushes in front of him."

chenle tilts his head in thought, "yeah. just give him a warning. and an apology, because, you know, duh."

"fuck, i'm sorry." you sigh as you text jisung, letting a string of curses follow throughout.

"i feel like he likes her. like, like likes her. a lot." chenle nods, moving to face your back. he places his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watch jisung react with a sequence of 'oh my god's, 'shit's, and numerous variations of a keyboard smash.

chenle's hands go to your arms, rubbing it in an attempt to soothe you. "what's done is done."

still, you feel nervous. like, a queasy-weird nervous feeling from your gut or somewhere around there. somehow, it's familiar.

"yeah, i know, but-"

"have you tried the new café downtown?"

fuck. looks like the feeling isn't going away today.

"is 'not enough pocket money' a valid excuse or does that phrase just not make sense in your head?" you say sarcastically, turning your head to find him weirdly sweet-smelling. he chuckles in response, and you feel him beaming his usual ear-to-ear smile.

"i'll pay." he says nonchalantly, lifting his head from your shoulder, "plus, i don't want you to sulk over one thing you did for the next week."

"you can't buy me happiness," you retaliate, almost as if guarding your shame.

"hey, science says chocolate releases dopamine. makes you happy." he puts his arm around your shoulders. at this point, it's hard to tell whether he actually wants to get closer to you or if your shoulders are just the perfect height for an armrest. you wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter, but you're never sure about the former.

still, it feels nice.

it turns out the "café" chenle referred to was more of a "waffle and coffee stand" downtown, its tables and seats taken by groups of content faces already. chenle insists the two of you line up anyways, your and chenle's eyes targeting a certain chocolate waffle. you could practically feel the warmth radiating off of the food, and your mouth waters at the thought of fudge filling your tastebuds as an abundance of sweet and bitter scents fill your nostrils.

you see him huff cold air as he speaks, his nose turning a light shade of pink. his cheeks follow, and it's only when his eyes meet with yours that you realised two things: your face is also tinted pink, and you've been staring. panicked, you swiftly avert your eyes. you had expected an obnoxious laugh or a direct jab from his part, but to your surprise, he only smiles.

randomly, you blurt, "have you ever thought of bleaching your eyebrows?"

he laughs, and then says, "only during exam season. you know, i think it would fit on you - actually you’d look good in anything." he shrugs, earning him a confused look from you.

the worker inside the stand shouts the number on your receipt, and it takes a while for the two of you to recover from the first bites you take. it was like medicine, and the side effects were: jumping, letting out less than appropriate sounds, and annoying others around you. in other words, the waffles were stupidly good. and you watched chenle space out like he's never eaten food before.

and he gave you the stupidest smile and the stupidest laugh and did the stupidest thing: he cupped your cheeks and looked straight into your eyes and made you believe this might be about more than waffles - thankfully, he'd swallowed his bite and you laughed it off.

he calmed down a bit after that, but you still can't fathom his warm hands on your face. it just made you want to reach into your stomach with a giant net and catch all the little butterflies.

"i'll walk you home," he says, out of the blue. you knew his house was located around the block, but you didn't want to point it out. besides, he's walked you home before, and he knows his way around town by now.

"okay." you smile.

"i kind of want to get back on stage again."

"really?"

"yeah. i miss the thrill of it all, you know? just having so many peoples' eyes on me, and i honestly just love to hear everyone cheer or cry or react," he continues as the two of you wait before the crossing, "i think the most powerful thing about performing is just knowing that you're making someone feel something, whoever it is. i just- i don't know."

"no, i get it. i don't really perform at all, but i've seen how happy you get on stage."

you remember that one class trip after midterms, in the talent show. chenle and jisung signed up to perform a parody of soulja boy's "pretty boy swag" as a joke, and as stupid as the lyrics were, the crowd absolutely loved it.

you also remember surfing the internet to find videos of him singing all throughout his childhood, spamming him with links of the videos in a group chat with him. though you made fun of him, you were sure of one thing; he had a talent for it.

the light turns green, and the two of you bathe in seoul's city noises once more, different aromas of street food and soju lighting up several sections of the block.

"Y/N," he calls.

"yeah?"

"i feel like i've known you for a while," he says suddenly.

you suck in the cold air as the two of you brisk walk; you barely have any time to process what he's just said. quickly, you respond, "yeah, me too."

he catches your reaction and says again, "it's like i was meant to know you, y'know? something about you just makes me feel like i've spent lifetimes with you."

he waits for your response, but there's none. you don't know what to say. 'something about you.' something about me? what is there about me?

"how- how do you know?" it's normal for him to speak so straightforwardly, but today feels different. you can't quite put a finger on it.

"this is weird, but your voice is familiar... and comforting, now that i think about it."

how does he say that so casually?

just as you're still trying to understand his words to you, chenle gradually intertwines his hand with yours.

at first, it's okay, and you feel like the butterflies have multiplied by the hundreds. but slowly, questions start to infiltrate your mind, and you have no choice but to pull him over to talk. fortunately, you're close to your house, and where you live, the streets are much quieter than his.

you stop abruptly, turning his calm face confused.

"zhong. chenle."

"that's my name?"

"yeah," you nod, "care to explain?"

he leans in closer to you (which made two seconds seem like two years), asking for you to repeat it again. you take a deep breath.

"why do you do anything? like- with me?" all you see is a confused look.

"because i-"

"you're so casual about everything and i don't know how to feel about it because one day we're project group partners that never talk and the next you walk me the long way home!"

you start to look him up and down as you speak, your pupils going in a zig-zag pattern across the boy. you're frantic and spewing words you don't even remember wanting to say, but you're focused on him, and only him. not the sunset that's tinting his violet hair blue; not the neighbouring house gates that make him look taller than he actually his; not even the puddle he's so close to standing on it's a hair strand away from staining his jordans.

you know him, and only him and how much his hair's grown it's covering his eyes; him and how his blazer, when pulled to his elbows, makes him look a bit like a k-pop idol; him and his red, unpierced ears, which colours' still show through his hair.

"and you buy me all these treats and put your fucking arms around me and basically back hug me so many times and act like it's no big deal that i'm getting confused whether or not you want me close or if i'm just a convenient armrest?"

you genuinely feel yourself getting lightheaded. am i going crazy?

"wait, but i thought you liked that because i saw jisung do it-"

"it's different! jisung's a friend - more like a brother - and yeah, of course i like it, but with you it's different! it's like- it feels some way, like- it's just-" you trip up on your words and give up.

"i- have feelings for you." you slow down your pace.

you look up at him and realise his eyes saw you first. he smiles, again, and it's only then that you get the urge to hold his hand or snuggle into the crook of his neck.

luckily, zhong chenle's a mind reader, and he goes on to wrap his arms around you, letting your head rest on the crook of his neck as you mumble, over and over again the words i like you like you're getting used to its vowels sounding out of your throat. it's some type of warmth you don't think you'll ever get with five layers of padded jackets or stupidly good waffles - and it smells like sandalwood.

"you don't have to return my feelings, just- know that i feel this way."

"i thought it was obvious?"

you pull away from the embrace, "what was obvious?"

"i've liked you since after that trip. you know, when i injured my ankle after the talent show," he shrugs, "you just came to the nurse's area, where i was, and you just- stayed there to be with me the entire night. and from then you just always approached me and, i don't know, treated me like a person instead of a walking bank."

"and i guess it didn't seem so obvious for you because we only really got close because of jisung, who you've known for forever. but i did go out of my way a few times, though."

"wait, when?"

"for starters, i walked you home a lot, bought you lunch a few times, paid for the cake on your birthday-"

"that was you?"

he scoffs.

"oh, i see." you hit him playfully, "that's why chaeri wasn't complaining about her wallet."

"but honestly," you began, "i think i've always thought you were a great, funny guy even before the trip. i remember you on the first day of school, basically shouting through the halls with your other friends from the second and third years. and i just remember, the first time hearing you talk and thinking: you're so damn confident. and when you got hurt and nobody really came to see you, i was just like, shit - nobody's going to check on him other than jisung?"

you continue as the two of you are nearing your house, pouring out the unspoken after months and months of bottling it up.

suddenly, chenle's phone rings. it's jisung calling.

"jisung-ah! call me later-"

unable to hear jisung, you read the call through chenle's face.

"wait... HOLY SHIT SERIOUSLY?"

"DUDE-" he looks down, unintentionally meeting your eyes. his tone softens, "dude, tell me later tonight, kay? i'm... in public right now."

you raise an eyebrow at him.

"well, i'm with Y/N."

then jisung speaks again, and chenle replies with a "yeah."

"oh- okay," he puts the call on speaker. the second he does that, the first thing you hear from jisung is "Y/N! GOD BLESS YOU."

"wait- why?"

"MIJUNG JUST ASKED ME OUT!"

you look to chenle, "i-is he kidding?"

"NO I'M NOT! I ALREADY PINCHED MYSELF THRICE- THIS IS INSANE!"

chenle laughs, "when and where?"

"movies and dinner... i'm never getting over this."

"wait so... does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"well, you were kind of a snitch but i guess that ended well, so... no."

"i won't snitch next time, i promise. unless-"

"Y/N, there won't be a next time! there's no way i'm gonna stop liking mijung."

"proud of you bud. call us later, yeah? we're getting on the bus right now." chenle says nonchalantly, ending the call just like that.

"why did you lie?"

he grins and takes your hand in his, "why do you think?"

"oh, shut up," you laugh, reaching up to peck his cheek goodbye.

he looks at you, shocked, making you two simultaneously burst into laughter together. 

“ya! your breath smells like waffles!”

[artificialqueens]

Once Upon A Time (Branjie) - dreamyunicorngirl

A/N: Hey lovely people!So I’ve been working on this lovely songfic for the past 3 months and it’s finally here. A big thank you to my two wonderfull betas, Charlotte and Mags. Without them this fic wouldn’t exist. Thank you Charlotte for cleaning up the mess in my mind and always believing me. Thank you Mags for cleaning up the mess of a fic and bringing the best out of me and this fic. I couldn’t have done this without you (and without everyone on the AQ discord).

The song I used is “Once Upon A Time” from Bare A Pop Opera Have fun crying your eyes out to this one :)

Please tell me what you think! Hope you love it as much as I do - can i say that? - idk but i will. Enjoy my loves!

TW: Religion, Internalized Homophobia, Panic Attacks

Wordcount: 14693

Once upon a time

I first held your hand

Vanessa meets the ice-cold beauty on a very unspectacular day. The rain is pouring outside of the dust covered windows of a dance studio in the suburbs of Los Angeles as a steady rhythm makes the walls cave in, free spirits throwing up their hearts on the dance floor. Crimson painted lips let out a small laugh as she carefully studies all of her students, realizing that they are as annoying as always, way too loud-mouthed, and full of adrenaline - just like their teacher. Vanessa introduced a new choreography that day, hoping to share her passion with the youngest of her students, daring them to be as bold and creative as their young minds allow them to be. The kids twirl around on the wooden floor, each beat erupting in a new movement. Flashy grins fill the room as students let their fantasies unwind. Children swirling through the air, swinging their brightly painted wings, dancing to the rhythm of their souls, rather than to the one playing from the loudspeakers. A sly smirk appears on her lips as she looks over her newest work of art, full of pride. 

With a small clap and a ‘Mary, we are finished for today’, the class ends, students erupting into heartfelt laughter and chatter. Within seconds the dance room starts to lose its character, as student after student leaves through the wooden doorway. Scanning the room, Vanessa slowly gathers her bag stained with red paint. She’s mentally planning out her well deserved weekend - full of “The Notebook” retwaches and banging parties in between - when she spots one of her students, Plastique, hovering in the hallway. 

Before she can even tease Plastique for having a staring contest with the floor, Vanessa catches the sight of her - a glowing beauty entering the hall with a head held high. Her perfectly sleek ponytail swinging with every step, sending a shiver down the woman’s spine. Tongue tied and wide-eyed, she stares as the blonde strolls towards her youngest student. With broad shoulders straightened in a regal poise, she seems to be walking on air, as a reserved smile appears on her otherwise indifferent face. Curious feet carry the brunette towards the stranger, before she can even sort out her spinning thoughts. Her pulse quickens, and she silently prays for her heart not to fall out from her chest - a hot flush rushes through her body as she catches the beauty staring back. 

With a slight cough, she introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Vanessa Mateo, Plastique’s dance teacher,” She hesitates a little before continuing, “but my students call me Vanjie”. 

The blonde looks her up and down, raising a brow as she extends her hand. Another shiver, much more intense than before, goes through Vanessa’s being as her doe eyes meet grey thunderstorms. Vanjie shakes her hand after catching herself staring at her counterpart in awe for an embarrassingly long time, praying for the blonde not to notice her already sweating palms.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes. I’m here to pick up my goddaughter,” she replies in a steady voice, lips curved into a smirk. Her fingers linger on Vannessa’s tanned skin for a second too long, causing the other woman’s breath to hitch in her throat. 

And love was not a crime

Ground beans and freshly baked pies sweeten the air. Two pairs of hands wrapped around steaming mugs and two toothy grins. Shy doe eyes with fluttering lashes flirt in silence. 

The two women have made it a habit of meeting up on Fridays, after Vanessa’s classes ended, get a coffee or two and let go of all the pent up annoyance from the week. Heated rambles and soothing advice fill the air between them, creating a bubble for just the two of them. Even silence was cozy with the other by their side, simply appreciating each other’s presence, feeling their own hearts warming up with every meeting. Neither of them initially expected a lasting bond, and yet, the moment Brooke sat down next to Vanessa, she could feel a bouquet of flowers blooming in her soul, her body buzzing, full of warmth and gratefulness. The shorter girl never felt less judged, more treasured and more safe than with Brooke Lynn by her side. And slowly but surely, the ice queen accepted the fact that she genuinely enjoyed her company, even began to look forward to her weekly meetups with the loud Puerto Rican. 

Brooke smiles around the rim of her cup as Vanessa rambles about her equally loud roommate falling for another “street-rat”. Her hands fumble in the air, grand gestures accompanying her captivating story. Laughter fills their little bubble, breathing life into two equally exhausted souls. Yet every time the Latina fixates on those stormy eyes, her heart shakes, bends and inflates like a big balloon, as it keeps growing fond of the woman by her side, tripping over words while Brooke’s smile widens. A slight flush on Vanessa’s cheeks always follows, rose petals replacing the blood cells in her veins - painting her cheeks a pretty shade of red.

“Hoe, that can’t be true!” Vanessa screeches, trying to lower her voice after receiving disapproving looks from the elderly visitors of the small cafe, long-drained cups discarded on the otherwise empty table, both forgetting the meaning of time.

“No, I’m telling you, I just never had the time to date. Never found the man of my dreams… but you know, he is probably busy shagging some other woman.” Brooke lets out a nervous giggle as a heavy lump clogs up her throat, regretting having shared this with Vanessa. 

She has known the other woman for quite some time now, but was it soon enough to let her see all of her insecurities? Silence falls between them as Brooke desperately tries to avoid the all too familiar doe eyes directly in front of her, dread filling up her lungs, slowly replacing the air around her as she exhales heavily. Her eyes flicker across the café, trying to find something, anything, to take the edge off.

“Have you ever thought about, you know…” Vanessa softens her voice, a slight frown appearing between her brows as she weighs up how to phrase the question burning at the tip of her tongue. 

“Is everything alright, can I get you guys anything? Two more coffees perhaps?” Vanessa is cut off by a waitress with a beaming smile and an awful sense of timing. 

“No, thank you, but we would like the cheque please?” Brooke flashes the tiny Latina an unsure smile while the waitress leaves the two of them to sit in silence, Vanessa’s unfinished question hanging in the air.

The brunette carefully observes the woman right in front of her, waiting for a reaction as she twirls her caramel brown hair around her finger. With a single cough, she mentally prepares to revoice the question, but before Vanessa gets a chance, the waitress returns with their cheque. With a deep sigh the brunette sits back in her cream coloured chair and crosses her arms, accepting defeat.

Brooke hands the waitress a five dollar bill with a small “Thank you”, before grabbing her belongings. Vanessa mirrors the blonde’s action as she swallows her way too curious inquiry. Brooke, polite as always, holds the café’s bright pink door open for her, before waving goodbye to the lovely owner, a new found friend of theirs.

“Would you mind going for a walk to the park with me? I’ve still got some time left before I need to be home…” Brooke trails off, playing with one of her earrings, trying not to look directly at the brunette. 

“I would love to.” Vanessa grins and joins the blonde’s side, her initial question long forgotten. A light flush covers the Canadian’s cheeks, brightly lit eyes watch the little powerhouse next to her bounce across the crosswalk.

They walk together, sparks flying through the chilly air as nervous hands brush against each other, while Brooke realizes that she’s found herself weirdly drawn to the brunette with big sparkly eyes. She observes the ball of joy skipping next to her, brash words and deep laughter resounds between the trees.

A bright smile is plastered on the shorter woman’s face as she rambles about everything and nothing at the same time, pointing out odd looking shapes of roots and tumbling ducklings along the way. Every time Brooke looks at Vanessa, something undefinable pulls at her heart. A thin string of hope connecting two lonely souls; a warm feeling gradually replaces Brooke’s otherwise cold interior, slowly melting the thick ice built up around what some would consider to be her heart. With every shallow breath, it begins to beat a bit faster, and her cheeks start to burn whenever the girl lays eyes on her. It’s that moment when an unholy seed is planted in her chest.

A silent ache in her being, one that barely scratches her lungs, but leaves her breathless for a second, catches her off guard. Vanessa’s vibrant laugh and intoxicating smile makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She’s never felt like this before, so used to always keeping people at an arm length - valuing her freedom and her ability not to depend on anyone with her own happiness. As the realization hits her, she is afraid of what it might mean. No, it couldn’t… No, she would never. She slowly shakes off her spiralling thoughts, accepting this all must be an overreaction, simply knowing that her parents taught her better than this, never considers that the mind has its own ways.

The night sky darkens around the two familiar figures as they fall into comfortable silence. Each enjoying the quietness of nature that surrounds them, each mind spiralling on its own accord. With every step Vanessa takes, her heart pumps the blood in her tiny body a little faster, red like rose petals, flooding every inch of her being after weeks of accumulation. Her eyes carefully follow every move the other woman makes, admiring her simple elegance. Craving her closeness. 

“The stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?” she states, innocently.

“We’re in the city, Nessa, the stars are hardly visible,” Brooke lets out a mocking huff.

A memory illuminates her spiraling thoughts - the Canadian and the Latina giggling on a hilltop out of the city, dancing along to the music in their hearts, drenched in the moonlight - gone within an instant, passing by like a shooting star. 

“I’ve meant the ones I can see sparklin’ in your eyes.” A sheepish smile appears on Vanessa’s lips as the scratches the back of her neck.

“You say this to all of your friends?” She jokes back, because friends is what Brooke needs them to be. She comes to a halt in front of her apartment complex, a slight frown gracing her forehead. Just friends.

“No,” a breathy whisper, barely a tease - a reminder of what she couldn’t have. “Just you.”

In a private world where

You said don’t look down?

The static hum of a TV in the background and smooth olive fingertips on her hips. A deep sigh escapes her cherry-kissed lips as she closes her eyes and frantically tries to catch her breath. Fists desperately gripping cotton pillows, a tightened chest denying sweet oxygen to enter her burning lungs, as soft wet kisses are planted across her neck. A little Puerto Rican goddess seated in her lap, lavishing every inch of her silky skin with adoring attention. Groans fill the heavy air as unspoken words swirl around the intertwined bodies. Hands grasping at virgin skin, marking their desire on every inch they can reach, as one particular lost soul shuts her eyes from reality. Colourful constellations imprint on holy skin. Rose-stained fingernails scratch lines onto a willing lover.

With each feather-light touch and each tug of skin, Brooke fights her overwhelming fear of the unrighteous scene in front of her eyes. Clinging to the darkness around her shameful being, only allowing her skin to sin. Scared of a person she doesn’t recognize, a lover she never dared to have. Yet deep down she knows, she just needs to see. Needs to take in all of the lust, all of the passion. Watch eager lips on a silent frame, roses growing on her skin. Every movement with so much care and precision, revoking needy sounds from her gaping mouth, godly sounds that were only reserved for the Latina beauty. Brooke couldn’t keep her hands from caressing Vanessa’s body, eyeing her every reaction, careful not to get pricked by her thorns. Staring at blown out pupils, getting lost in swirly brown eyes full of lust and adoration. 

Her fingers flinch as Vanessa’s lips pucker at her touch, deep red blood adornishing the ice queen’s fingertips. Sickly sweet thorns piercing through white skin, staining it with deep rooted promises. It’s the exact moment Brooke vows her long lost soul to let go. With a deep breath, she buries her mauve nails in the brunette’s hair and pulls her mouth to her trembling figure. 

Desperate teeth on bruised skin, painting reminders of losing control. Arching backs releasing unspoken words, speaking their own language. Demanding fingers chasing her own release, as she forces her mind to simply forget. 

‘God loves you, Brooke, you can do this for him’

A sting in her heart, another breath caught in her throat. Tears springing to her eyes. She shakes her head, trying to escape the biblical quotes imprinted in her mind. Casting off all her consciousness, desperately following her primal urge. With one last trembling breath, she grounds her body onto the squirming and willing brunette underneath her, and just let’s go.

But then I did and now you’re lost above me

It’s when the first sun rays fall through the curtains that Brooke’s guilt-stained memories begin to eat her alive. Her shaken heart stumbles as frightened eyes take in the blooming mess right in front of her. Sickly sweet hands closed around her throat, heavy feathers buzzing in her bones. A silent sob escapes her bruised lips, sin-stained fingers grasping at her exposed figure. Cyan waves crashing at the shore, drowning her frame. Tightly hugging what it is left of her dignity. Vanessa is still sound asleep to her right, unaware of the hurricane breaking lose. The blonde’s ice-cold heart weighs heavy in her chest as realization begins to settle within her mind. ‘What have I done?’ Like she had been visited by the Devil herself, she dashes out of the bed. Desperately scrambling for every item of clothing she can find, shaky fingers attempt to clothe her bare soul. She spins around one last time, fearing every next step she will have to take. With one last forbidden kiss to Vanessa’s forehead, she is gone. Only leaving dried up rose petals behind.

So much left to say

Trapped alone here 

With my best-laid plans astray

Months pass and Brooke Lynn still finds reminders of her favourite mistake imprinted on her soul. She desperately attempts to wash off every sign of their shared night. Scratched skin and thrown up thoughts, as she prays to the showerhead to cleanse her from her sins. Silent sobs, red stained porcelain skin - results of attempts to scrub away every memory until rotted rose petals cover the ground her shaking figure stands on. A silent scream stumbles from her forever blemished lips as her head hits the bathroom floor.

Night after night, the snow queen kisses bearded men who grip roughly at her hips and push her against walls in dark alleys with even darker passion, bruised constellations forming on her skin. She desperately tries to choke the thoughts lingering at the back of her mind with the aftershave she chases like oxygen. Lies spill so easily from a burned throat as she attempts to dry out the seed of doubt in her soul. Every kiss just a rehearsed act, the flick of a tongue, a silent moan. Only the most convincing actors play the part. She tries to learn a foreign language, staging a new scene each day - attempts to let them guide her to a hidden piece of heaven on this Earth, praying to find forgiveness in each kiss. Yet they never teach her how to forget dried up rose petals and the taste of her name.

Vanessa spends days filled with loneliness, mourning the past. Months of coffee dates, moonlight dancing and late night shopping - all turned into stone. Maybe she had misunderstood the hints, misinterpreted the signals. Fire and ice alive just for a single moment in time. Vanessa regrets never pouring out her smitten heart to Brooke. The roses and daisies, lavender and berries, all fading away in her chest. Maybe they were simply destined to be friends all along and Vanessa had just messed up, letting the burning fire in her get the best of her. Because the lonely Latina indeed craved her, craved all of her. With every touch and every glance, the flowery garden of affection in her soul grew. She wanted to break Brooke’s icy walls, melt away all the pain and let her come undone. Get down to the nitty-gritty of her soul, exposing her to a force unknown. Yet she only got to admire her personal hurricane up close once, before Brooke took away everything she had left to give. Because loving her is a losing game. Just a small-town girl in a big arcade, addicted to a losing game.

So she throws herself into work and parties too much - all while attempting to dampen the fire in her soul, even though tequila only fuels the red flame instead of bringing it down to a simmering heat. Vanessa loses her heart on the dance floor, grounding her body, rubbing her burning soul onto every tall blonde that catches her eye. Playfully, she whispers sweet nothings to willing partners, gives away every inch of herself, desperately awaiting a revelation, a savior. And after all her drunk shenanigans, she closes her eyes and can still feel Brooke’s mauve painted nails scratching every inch of her. Imagining softly painted lips bruising her up, instead of chapped kisses barely grazing her skin, is her saving grace. Equally intoxicated lovers never tug on her hair like the ice queen did, don’t imprint their desire for the Latina on her body so artistically like the other woman. No one gives her the pleasure she craves like a drowning human craves oxygen - the deeply satisfying ecstasy the blonde gave her. And no one, simply no one, touches her heart like Brooke Lynn. 

Standing scared outside a cold church

Soul search, seeking some lost answer

From a God who loves me

Brooke Lynn goes up North again, visits her family and old friends. Taking a well deserved vacation - at least that’s what she told her employees. Her mother greets her with open arms, asking too many questions, majority of which Brooke has to leave unanswered. Most conversations fly past her consciousness nowadays, leaving her mind blank; she works on auto-pilot, building up a new comfortingly safe routine. Visiting her childhood church again is a part of her plan, attempting to dig up some virtue, hoping to find forgiveness. It has been years since she last set foot into the stone cold building. Years of build up pain and shame breaking in a crescendo as her body crashes down, kneeling in front of a wooden cross. “Please forgive me, father.”

As sickly sweet poems begging for forgiveness escape her still bruised lips, everyone pretends not to hear the longing desire humming within her heartbeat. Night after night she lays awake, striving to drown the rhythm of rainbow within her soul.

“Lord Jesus, for too long I’ve kept you out of my life. I know that I am a sinner and that I cannot save myself. No longer will I close the door when I hear you knocking. By faith I gratefully receive your gift of salvation. I am ready to trust you again,” with a shaken voice, the shell of a woman urgently repeats the words stumbling from her lips as she is laying alone in the comfort of her own bed. Tears leak out of her darkened eyes even after her breathing has evened and her consciousness faded away. A torn apart heart craves healing while the mind attempts to rest. 

From then on she speaks to God every day. Praying to forget. 

‘God loves you Brooke Lynn, but not your sin. You can do this for him.’

Her shaking fingers itch for a rosary more and more with each night. A silent prayer on her lips as faded memories and forbidden dreams flood back to the surface - each of them continuously burning her wrinkled soul, only thriving on poisoned air, capturing a broken heart. All she wishes for is calmness - a privilege Brooke’s damned soul is not worthy of. Pictures now disrupt her restless slumber. Red spit on burned out soil, a grey face melting away. Butterflies and daisies scratching bloody feet, berries and flowers adornishing a decaying shell of a lover. An anxious soul dances on clouds as Venus feeds her the venom of eternity. Broken glass mourns a broken bond as her consciousness fades away for the second time that night.

Can I turn to You in my need?

An unbearable heat builds up in the tiny dance studio. Young students repeatedly practice their choreography for the upcoming regionals, each pair of stumbling feet steadily increasing the temperature within the already stifling room. Frustrated groans fill the air as their ruthless teacher pushes them for another round. Children miss their cues and barely hit the beat, and Vanessa pinches the bridge of her nose, brows knitting in a frustrated frown. Leaning against the chipped wall, she slowly watches her students sloppily wobble through the brunette’s precisely crafted choreography. A sick feeling of disappointment - no, just failure - spreads in Vanessa’s chest. Crinkled eyes watch tired limbs in wrong positions ruining her well rehearsed craft. 

The Latina had spend weeks perfecting each step, making sure each movement sparked a purpose, each gesture told a story. It didn’t matter that Vanessa couldn’t stand to see herself in the mirror while constructing a passionate dance for her students to follow, to immerse themselves in. Nor does it matter that it took the skilled teacher much longer than it should have, each ounce of creativity drowned from her overworked mind. A flow of artistry used to live within her, flowing through her veins, just like the rhythm that claimed her soul a long time ago. But now every time she stares into the stained mirrors of an empty studio, a stranger appears at the other side of the glass. Eyes so empty, a mouth so silent and a heart slightly chipped. She desperately tries to keep it together, so she chooses to focus on her students’ flaws instead. She picks them apart one by one. Each mistake of each child highlighted by Vanessa’s grim voice ringing through the clustered room, mocking their imperfect performances. Comments leave her dried up lips in a harsh tone, hitting her students in the face, correcting their posture with a lack of respect, dragging down their innocent souls.

“Scarlet, for the third time today, it’s a left turn and then a drop, not a right turn and a simple flourish - it’s not that hard, Mary.” Impatient words escape through clenched teeth, letting boiling hot frustration get the best of her. 

“I know, but It’s just really fast, and I-” a wombly children’s voice quietly tries to defend her mistake, rubbing her eyes to hide glassy tears.

“No buts. We’ve been over this way too many times, just get into the gig.” Throwing her hands in the air, Vanessa looks around, directing her message to all of her students, “y’all aren’t here for no reason, so you better step your pussies up to get these cookies.”

“It’s not like Scarlet’s never made that mistake Miss V, but now, all of the sudden, you give a fuck. Somehow, all of us aren’t good enough for you today. I call bullshit,” Yvie defends her friend, challenging Vanessa with her pointed tone. Yvie was right, she has been unnecessarily harsh today, for reasons unknown to the children. A heat wave flushes through her rock solid body, fists tensing at her sides, fully knowing she couldn’t let that kind of behaviour pass. Vanessa has never deemed herself to be a strict teacher, but in that moment, she just snapped.  

“It’s because you all aren’t giving your goddamn best. We’ve been over this so fucking much, y’all should know it by heart by now, Mary. We have a competition to win - you guys can’t just-” as her muscles start quivering and purely harsh words leave her aching throat, she attempts to catch herself with a deep breath. “Anyways - todos vosotros me ponen de los nervios, I won’t discuss this any further. Class dismissed.” 

She draws in another slow, steadying breath, plastering an obviously fake smile on her chapped lips. In an attempt at a carefully controlled voice she adds, “I better see something good from all of you tomorrow morning, no shit show.” 

In one swift motion she turns around, ignoring the wide blown eyes of frightened children, combing her hair with her shaking fingertips while packing all of her belongings to her slightly worn out sports bag. 

She tries to keep it together, plasters another forced smile on her weakened lips, a band aid to fix her broken heart - at least for now - as she coldly wishes her students a good night, grasping at every string of her being to keep herself together. 

After she dismissed the class, she lets her thoughts wander, not paying too much attention to the string of curse words leaving her mouth. Scratched skin, heavy lungs and an exhausted mind rot away. Eyes closed, steady breathing. Focus, Mary, focus. Her heart yearningly awaits Brooke Lynn’s return. Needing to see the blonde beauty walk through the halls of the dance school, just like the day she met her, even though deep down she knows that her friend won’t come back to her. 

The lost figure lets herself glide onto the wooden floor, pulling her knees up to her chin, and tries to calm her breathing, still feeling the burning fire simmering in her veins. Tears of frustration escape a heated grimace as she slams her right fist against the floor. How could she do that to her? A sweat stained forehead falls into her lap, red nails dig deep into her own skin, anger growing within her.

“Hey, Miss Vanjie, I was just wondering, I am - is everything alright?” Big, bright child eyes stare at her flushed face, a mind full of worries presented to her, curious. 

“Por Dios, shouldn’t you have left already?” In one sweep she is up on her feet again, shaking off her startled expression. Certainly won’t let no goddamn child look taller than her.

“I - I just wanted to help, because, you know, you were really mean today, Miss V. And I thought, maybe - maybe you are upset” 

Vanessa’s world stands still for a moment, shaking hands tightly folded into fists. How could she let her emotions get the best of her? An overwhelming feeling of embarrassment spreads in her chest, tightening with every breath. She failed to keep her personal problems from affecting her ability to teach - Jeez, she shouldn’t be doing this. 

“Shit,” she curses silently, “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have phrased it like that.” Her almost robotic voice fills the air, nearly regretting her outburst. Nearly.

Her swirling thoughts come to a halt as Plastique’s mother, Nina, approaches Vanessa as well, softly laying her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and asking for some privacy. As the girl grabs her bag and moves to the changing room, Vanessa dares to face the well known calm after the storm. Kind hearted emerald eyes pierce through the burning steam surrounding the brunette tornado.

“Would you mind explaining to me why you felt the need to be an ass to your students today?“ a steady voice without any ounce judgment asks, only fueling Vanessa’s pounding heartbeat.

“I don’t know why that matters, Mary. I felt some type of way and that’s it - it’s not my fucking fault my students can’t distinguish left from right.” Her body tenses with every punctuated word.

“But that’s not what this is about, isn’t it?” Nina’s head is tilted to the side, her face wearing a sympathetic smile. 

“No, it’s not, but that’s none of your business.” The younger woman puts on a brave face; attempts to hide her inner turmoil from her counterpart, pretending to unsee the damage her lack of self control has caused. Fists still balled up tight, fighting the urge to punch the stained mirror at her side.

“It is my business if your lack of professionalism results in my daughter, and other children, being crushed by your harsh words.” Her smile falls for a second, before pity reaches her kind eyes again, as she finally acknowledges the hurt in the young woman’s gaze. “Look, Vanessa, I know it’s not easy, but-”

“No, it’s not fucking easy. I don’t feel like this for no reason.” She couldn’t take it anymore. Her voice increasing in volume, cutting of Nina, as she barely registers anything or anyone besides the woman through a narrowed vision. 

“I know, but you gotta keep your calm, dear,” the kind hearted woman tries to reason, yet the blood pounding in the brunette’s ears keeps drowning out the words. 

Vanessa takes a step back and throws her hands in the air, letting out an infuriated groan, before attacking her scalp with sharp-cut nails.

“Jeez, I thought we were closer than for you to be so condesc- condescen- for you to judge me. It’s not my fault some of them actually complained about me poppin off,” bitter words leak out of her mouth, not only raising her voice, but also her hand again.

“You could have pulled them aside-”

“They all fucked up, I am not hiding it from them, hoe, so they better learn to take some criti- criticism.” Flared up nostrils and the world around her painted in dark red. It didn’t matter that she was in the wrong - all of her build up emotions came crashing in a crescendo around her, making her believe that maybe her outburst was justified. 

The setting sun highlights the destructive potential of the burning match.

“That’s not criticism anymore, Vanessa, it’s straight up bullying.” Nina voicing the truth is an icy wave hitting her upfront, drenching the brunette from head to toes. Cold, ghostly fingers wrap around her throat and an unbearable weight crashing her bones.

“I don’t fucking bully my children, I never bully them, I could never bully them, for fucks sake, I just, I-”  her building volume crashes into a heart wrenching sob. Red nails forcefully tug at caramel hair, fighting her inevitable destruction.

“Hey-” Nina shuffles closer and wraps one of her arms securely around Vanessa’s waist, petting the bruised fingertips holding onto her own frizzy and uncombed hair. “Shh - just take a deep breath.”

Her breathing becomes erratic again as silent sobs bubble up her throat. “I shouldn’t. I-I don’t know what to do, Nina, but - she just left. And I-”

“I know,” Nina shushes the frightened deer in her embrace, barely recognizing the headstrong woman who just passionately fought her moments ago. Nina silently holds pieces of the once ever-so-joyful and loud-mouthed girl in her arms, slowly taking in all that’s happened so far. Viciously poisoned words replaced by hopeless destruction within her small frame. 

Nina knows she shouldn’t be here, Brooke had begged her to not speak a word to Vanessa about her departure. But Nina also knows that she can’t just let the young one suffer on her own. Something broke within her heart, seeing her so shattered. Just a shell of the woman she used to be.

“I don’t even know why I care so much, it’s not like she said she loved me and shit, but-”

Nina silently holds the brunette as glassy tears wet her delicate blouse. She sighs as she realizes this must have been something more serious than “a fight between two friends”. Just one look at the broken girl in her embrace says enough.

“-but you love her,” Nina finishes.

Vanessa doesn’t have to say a single word for Nina to know that she has hit the right nerve. The burned out girl simply closes her eyes as cyan waves flood her paralyzed mind. A muted soul drowning, because she wasn’t there.

Would You take me back or watch me bleed?

Are You there? There at all?

Time keeps moving and the planet Earth keeps spinning, yet Brooke Lynn cannot find the person she desperately longs to be. Her body and mind betray her God-loving soul as she rutts against her bedsheets, one finger pressed to her bundle of nerves. A droplet of heaven on sinner’s skin will never heal a soul not worth saving. So her heart begins to shake as she comes undone to the thought of her. Because holy water on forbidden soil still grew the damned fruit of Eden. 

Rosary prayers are replaced by deep, toxic drags of flower painted cigarettes. A golden cross weighs heavy on her chest - the last reminder of her once so innocent soul. It mocks her with its presence - everlasting, reminding her of her failure to keep control, the one skill she had always taken pride in. With a deep breath she runs her shaking fingertips through her messy, freshly cut hair and opens it’s clip, let’s it fall to the marbled floor. 

Weeks pass before Nina calls, begging her to come back to the States and telling her how much misses her. Brooke Lynn let’s rehearsed lines pour from her throat, promising to get back to her soon. She scribbles on notebooks as she listens to Nina’s trembling voice, trying to ground herself into reality. 

“You can’t just kill the beast, throw the gun away and pray away its death, Brooke, that’s not how life works,” Nina finally drops the bomb.

“What kind of beast are you even talking about, Nina? I am way too sober to deconstruct your metaphors right now,“ Brooke steadies her breathing, tries to sound oblivious to whatever Nina might be hinting at. She picks up her chewed up pen again, doodling on a scraped note, trying to distract her thoughts from spiralling too deep.

“Don’t play dumb, Brooke, we both know what I am trying to say. You can’t just disappear out of everyone’s lives without even saying goodbye, you can’t just…” A deep breath resounds on the other side of the line, making Brooke realize how serious Nina actually is. “She misses you, Brooke, she misses you, like, a lot.”

Brooke’s heavy heart sinks even further, turning to stone with each word punctuated by the other woman. “That sounds like her problem”, she mutters through clenched teeth, cautiously looking away from any feelings she still harbours for the Puerto Rican goddess. 

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.” Brooke could practically see Nina’s clenched fists and furrowed brows, nearly screaming at her from the other side of the line.

“Don’t call me that,” she exhales loudly, trying to ground her slightly shaken voice. She never intended to confess anything to Nina, her sinful nature was between her and God. 

“But - that’s your name!”

“Yeah, and I hate it when you say it like that. It sounds as if i killed an innocent puppy.” She doesn’t need to say it, Nina already knows. 

“It’s because you kind of did,” her best friend lets out a frustrated laugh. “Well, Brooke. What I am attempting to say is that whatever you may be going through, I am here for you. I just want to help you, sweetheart, I know you are beating yourself up about everything that has happened between the two of you.” Brooke wishes Nina would be at least condescending, reminding her of the God-loving daughter she could be. Yet all she receives is an everloving soul, a heart so big it can see past her mistakes, past her sins.

She can’t bear to hear it anymore, can’t take it. She bites at the skin around her nails, trying to distract herself from the desire to slam her fist against the table. 

“You haven’t seen me in weeks, Nina, how could you even know?”

“I can see your misery all the way from the States, that’s how bad you’ve gotten. Look, I know you are afraid of dealing with the conflict inside of you, but we both know the Bible doesn’t say anything about-” With every spoken word the fragile woman gasps for more air, drowning in a sea full of fear. Cold hands of truth wrapped around her delicate throat.

“Please, don’t, Nina,” she whimpers.

“Brooke…” A short moment of silence fills the air between the two friends. “There is no point in running away. You are just pushing away the people who love you for who you are,” a pleading voice doesn’t fully reach the woman in need. 

“Like you?”

“I actually meant Vanjie, but to be honest with you, it hurts me as well seeing you like this, I just…” On the other side of the line, Nina closes her eyes praying to God from the high above. “Just please come back. I miss you. Plastique misses you. We all miss you.”

“I can’t, Nina, I just can’t.” A single tear falls down her rigid face. “I am so sorry,” she mumbles before hanging up on her. The confidence she has build over the past weeks has been replaced by consuming guilt in a blink of an eye. With shaking fingers she slowly picks up the golden cross from the marble floor, its weight overwhelming her fastening heartbeat. She closes her eyes before fastening the chain around her throat again. Her heart still bounded by ice in a decaying chest. A spark of hope buried by self doubt. “One day,” she whispers to herself, “but not today.”

And as I fall from the person that I tried to be

Could You really love someone like me?

“Hey stranger - x” 

Narrowed eyes stare at a way too brightly lit screen, shaking hands grasping Vanessa’s phone like a nicotine addict holding their first cigarette in weeks. Waves crashing around her, tearing down all that has been and all that ever could be, drowning the brunette in a whirlwind of emotions. Just take a deep breath, Vanessa, a deep breath. A hollow voice, a reminder of her broken heart, screeches inside of her, warning the girl, urging her no to answer. The heartache she had to endure, infused by her favorite ice queen, could last her a lifetime. She had sworn herself that she wouldn’t let her in again, attempted to erase the blonde bombshell from her memory for weeks. Still embarrassed of the scene she had caused at work, her deeply lit fire burning down the spectacle around her. 

Yet just minutes later, her fingertips betray her overworked brain. They are typing a reply on their own accord, a way too heartfelt reply. Full of hatred and love and feeling of lost, pouring out the hurricane Brooke had ignited in her soul. 

She catches herself before she can hit the send button. Rational thoughts replace the emptiness in her brain as shaky hands delete a message never meant to be seen by the thunderstorm eyes. She silently decides that written words can’t express Vanessa’s heartache and won’t ever depict the reality and the range of emotions she had to endure. Not daring to give Brooke Lynn the satisfaction of acknowledging the mess of emotions she had reduced Vanessa to. 

The Latina takes a second look at her screen, her heart clenching at the written words. Strangers - that’s what they have become. She feels like she has been hit by the screen, awoken by a simple phrasing, causing disappointment to settle within her. In utter silence she chews up her lip as she can feel her heartbeat falter, missing a beat here and there. 

A light chuckle escapes her lips, amused by her own misery. 

How did she end up like this? 

Vanessa always fell hard, that wasn’t new to her. But it was nothing compared to the mixture of emotions that Brooke Lynn had left her with. Nothing compared to the fire in her soul, prepared to burn down a building in the process of fighting her longing for the ice queen.

“Can I call you?” 

Another flash of light that burns too brightly, Vanessa’s eyes twitching in return. Questions ring inside of her head, almost too urgent to ask them out loud. 

“Please - x”  

It’s the message that breaks her. Brooke Lynn was never the one to beg. Vanessa always had been so certain that nothing could bring the ice queen down to her knees. As she feels the garden of love-colored flowers being revived in her chest, feathery light fingertips type a response as if having gained a mind of their own. 

“We are not having this conversation over the phone.” She isn’t so sure if she even wants to have this conversation, too afraid of the burning fire in her soul, still wondering if this is all a dream.

“Okay” 

The reply is short, something she didn’t expect. Vanessa had assumed that after all the weeks of silence Brooke wouldn’t give up that easily. Maybe she was wrong. 

“Same place, same time? - x" 

Once upon a time

All I needed was his hand in mine

Two familiar figures sit on a bench in the park, full of stardust and broken promises, facing the night sky, searching for long lost answers in the muted celestial bodies pinned onto the firmament. The cold air is clouded with unspoken words hanging heavily between the strangers. The brunette is playing with the hem of her shirt, still unsure why she agreed to this meeting at all. The blonde holds her head high, as her stiffened body tries to maintain her regal posture, still unsure why she had proposed the idea in the first place.

No, she knows, she definitely knows why. A full cigarette package in her overflowing handbag reminds her of words yet to be brought to light. Though right now, her usually overworked mind is completely empty, leaving the ice cold beauty at a complete loss of words. Burned edges hide behind a layer of cold skin. Suffocating rose seeds in her chest as she is desperately scrambling for words, trying to find her voice. 

“Well, I think I owe you an explanation.” Brooke whispers as she stares longingly at the moon, avoiding Vanessa’s burning glare, the younger one’s neatly plucked brows bumped together in a scowl.

“Yes, you do, Mary. Also, you might add an apology if you’re feeling fancy,” Vanessa slurs through slightly gritted teeth, attempting to calm the flame blazing in her soul. Her flared nostrils still giving away her true emotions to the Canadian. 

Brooke couldn’t blame her for going up in flames and charring the Canadian’s sin stained fingertips in the process. 

“Okay, right, my explanation itself won’t be an apology, though, because nothing can ever justify hurting you. I just need to get this out, so you can see my side of the story and understand where I am coming from. I mean, I am sorry, truly sorry, don’t get me wrong, but what I am about to share shouldn’t be just an excuse for my actions and so-” rehearsed lines pour out of her dried out mouth, barely allowing her to gasp for air. 

“Don’t forget to breath. I’d rather not have you fainting on me, hoe.” For a short second Brooke’s lips twitch into a barely recognisable smile, a reminder of long gone summernights, before a hauntingly tight grasp around the stone she has for a heart throws her back into reality. 

“Yes, sorry.” Her body stiffens as the remark settles in. “Okay. So, I don’t know how to do this actually, I’ve never talked about any of this and yeah, serious stuff makes me tear up very easily… I’m sorry in advance and, yeah.” She takes a deep breath, clumsily attempting to gather her thoughts as she slightly dabbs around her already wet lash line. “I guess I just have to bite the bullet.”

The Puerto Rican keeps a close eye on Brooke Lynn, seeing her visibly shaken. The ever-so-cool Canadian suddenly fidgety, with shaky fingers resting in her lap and blown out pupils, biting her lips so hard, she must be drawing blood. Seeing the destruction the ice caused within her counterpart, Vanessa’s own flame starts to cool down. Finally able to see the ashes her blaze left behind. 

“As you may, or may not know, I grew up in a very Christian household. We went to church every Sunday, spoke a prayer before every meal and regularly went to confession.” She doesn’t know how much she could actually bare to say out loud - barely reliving the memories was painful enough. 

“So growing up as a child I was taught to believe many things that were tied to the Bible, one of them being a homosex-” the word gets stuck in her throat, memories of threatening dark voices screaming the word at the top of their lungs, spitting hatred at the feet of scared children, “- liking girls was a sin. At least once every few months it was brought up in service, fuelling everyone’s disgust for the celebration of this sin.” 

Brooke’s voice starts to shake ever so slightly as she pinches the skin around her nuckles to bring herself back to the present. 

“I mean, I never participated in any, you know, sinfully- I mean, any gay activities, but just the concept of it all still scared me shitless. So, you know, ehmm, until one day…” She takes in another deep shaky breath, preparing herself. “My mom once caught me kissing a girl. I was a child, I didn’t even know what kissing meant, and I just thought-” she stops herself. The memory too painful to conjure up in her mind. A warm steady hand sets on her shaking thigh, a single touch untangling her spiralling thoughts, keeping her grounded.

“So, I guess I was, I was just a girl lost among the teachings. All alone and scared.“ 

Silence fills the air, letting her confession linger in the space between the two broken women. Leftover, unspoken words deeply hidden at the back of her mind, tugging at her heart, causing her to lose her composure for a second. Another deep breath and the blonde dares to shily look up, only to find bright doe eyes, full of pitiful stars staring back at her.

"And then you came along.” She faces away from Vanessa again, not knowing what to say. Never having planned for a confession of her blooming feelings to be part of sharing her story. So used to carefully hiding away every fresh flower that had grown in her chest in a small casket at the back of her consciousness. She had thrown away the key to her deepest, darkest secret months ago, but all of a sudden its gates have been opened. Honest confessions dripping down her burning lips like sickly sweet honey from overflowing honeycombs.

“Meeting you was the most amazing, yet simultaneously horrifying moment in my entire life. I - you know - when you started flirting with me, I really tried to convince myself we could just be friends, good friends, like me and Nina.”

Vanessa’s fingers move from the Canadian’s thigh to her sweating palms, caressing them with ever so light touches.

“I wanted to be the God-loving daughter so badly, I wanted to make my family proud. But somehow, you were the one to unleash all of these feelings, all of those forbidden thoughts and I…” She looks to the ground for a moment, shame flickering across her face as she centers her breathing, tries to find the right words. “I didn’t know what to do. So I just ran. Away from you. Away from the deep roots of my sin.”

Bone crushing silence fills the space in their tiny bubble, making goosebumps cover Vanessa’s skin. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I know that I should have said something, but I was so scared, Nessa. So scared. I didn’t want anybody to know, I was so ashamed of my feelings for you and…” She finally looks up again, regret pooling in her stormy eyes.

“So what happened?” Curiosity slowly replacing the burning heat in Vanessa’s soul, still taking in all what the wounded woman presents to her - trusts her with. 

“What do you mean?” Brooke asks with a breathy voice, slightly cocking her head and raising the arch of her perfectly painted brow.

“If you are so ashamed and didn’t want anybody to know, simply playing the fucking God obedient wife, than why are you here, Twinkle Toes?” Vanessa doesn’t hold back, having bottled up embering questions for way too long.

“Because- because if Nina could see past my sins, maybe so could I?" 

Vanessa’s visibly cringes at the blonde’s choice of words. Pain contorting her face, her soul drenching in pity. 

The vulnerable woman next to her seems like she doesn’t truly believe her spoken words either. Glassy eyes, a silent sniff - an attempt at finally putting her heart and mind at display.

"Baby, why do you keep calling your love for another woman a sin?” Vanessa’s soft words barely reach Brooke. 

“But isn’t that what it is?” Big grey eyes stare at their last string of hope. 

Brooke has never looked this young to the other woman as in this moment. Her lips pulled into a quivering pout, hands balled into anxious fists and her usually wavy, long bob resembling a bird nest due to her constantly raking her fingers through her hair. Putting her trust and vulnerability on display as her body fights against her. Lips continuously shaking with every word bubbling up from her tightened throat, needing a cough every few seconds to make her words come alive. Fingers drawing pictures in the air, questions her mind doesn’t dare to ask. 

“No, baby. No, it’s not. You are not a sinner. My momma always told me that the God you believe in loves you, unconditionally and shit like that. Those people who justify hating someone for who they love are abomi- abomina-, awful.” She grabs both of Brooke’s hands, squeezing them tightly. It’s as much closeness as Vanessa dares to initiate, yet not enough for her to evaporate every ounce of self doubt out of Brooke Lynn’s body. 

“It’s not that easy,” the blonde whispers, simply shaking her head and shifting her gaze to the night sky again.

“I know, but the bottom line is, Mami, Jesus preaches about love, not hatred. So fuck what evil people told you about your religion, because He was all about love, you know like ‘love thy neighbor’ and shit -” Vanessa’s heartfelt speech is interrupted by a quiet giggle from the woman desperately clutching at their intertwined hands, “- and that’s what matters the most.”

“I just don’t know. There must be a reason people preach against homosexuality so much.” Brooke’s eyes are harboring every homophobic prayer and countless lectures she had to endure, preaches of pain and the longing to heal, but also sing a song about her lack of courage to face her fears. At least on her own. 

“Baby, where in the Bible does it say homosexuality is a sin?” Vanessa’s usually harsh voice turns into a soft whimper as trained fingertips draw circles on Brooke Lynn’s skin.

“Ehh.” 

Both women know that Brooke’s loss for words isn’t just temporary, her counterpart simply outsmarted her - for once - fairly aware of the fact that there is no answer to this question. Brooke had to accept defeat, swallow her tongue and acknowledge that she can’t back up her internalized hatred. She closes her eyes for a short moment. A deep breath in and a deep breath out. 

Having to question her upbringing is a new cross she’ll have to bear. But she certainly won’t have to carry it on her own. 

"Exactly. I ain’t no preacher’s daughter, Mary, just a simple hoe, but even I know that faith should be about love and not hatred. You know what my mama always said?”

A long lost heart slowly finding her way back to the right path. Guided into a new direction. 

“Na-ah?” Brooke shakes her head as she can taste her heart beating in her dried up throat, whimpering as olive fingertips trace her cheekbones. 

“She always said: ‘no matter who you love Vanessa, you can always be a godly wife, even to your own wife’ - I mean, I am not about all of that religious life - but Brooke Lynn, I could show you that a life like this is possible." 

The Latina underlines her proposition with a flutter of her lashes and a cheeky kiss to Brooke’s blushed cheeks. 

"Vanessa,” barely a whisper escapes agape lips. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now, just think about it.” Vanessa gifts Brooke Lynn a soft smile, squeezes her hand before her soft lips brush against the blonde’s temple. Two hearts skipping a beat at the same time as young rose buds surround two lost figures sitting on a bench of mended promises under the night sky. 

Then I lost my way and

Now I know not what I do

The sweet melody of church bells fill the busy streets of the Hollywood Heights as kind-hearted strangers stroll down Franklin Avenue. Young birds sing songs of forgiveness, guiding lost souls to the place of worship. A short brunette is stood in front of the Hollywood United Methodist church, tightly squeezing one of the lost souls’ sweaty hand. She directs a big grin towards the shaking blonde, gifting her with wordless encouragement. Under a night sky full of broken hopes and dreams Vanessa had promised Brooke to find her a new godly home. So she had spent the past few weeks carefully skimming the gay-affirming churches in LA, the Methodist church just happened to be one of many in the area. Naturally, it had been a hassle to convince Brooke Lynn to give it a shot, explaining her that a Sunday Pride sermon would the most healing of them all. But puppy eyes, childlike pouts and lots of brief kisses finally convinced the weary woman.

Vanessa wouldn’t consider herself to be religious per se, however she understood that faith has always been a big part of Brooke Lynn’s life, and she would never in a million years take that away from the woman she loved. The night she had first heard her story, the strong woman collapsing into her arms, she had sworn to do whatever she could to help Brooke settle her internal struggle between faith and sexuality. Even if that meant tackling her own fears and diving head first into the deep unknown, just so that she could protect the Canadian from her self-destructive behaviour, showing her the love and safety she deserves. So here she was, a not so religious Latina dragging her love, whose entire body was trembling at the sheer sight of a church, to a Sunday morning sermon at the Hollywood campus.

Brooke Lynn had initially agreed to Vanessa’s plan, tears streaming out of her otherwise empty eyes, as she recognized this as her last chance, her last hope. Momentarily she was excited about the possibility of finally being free, her heart tightly gripping at a spark of faith. Vanessa’s words seeming like a cure to her curse. Yet the promise of a new beginning was soon overshadowed by violent memories intruding her newly calm mind. 

Terrified eyes stare down the big red ribbon adorning the otherwise plain, yet regal exterior of the church. A thunderstorm takes place inside of Brooke Lynn, shaking her up. Her spiralling mind denying the Canadian the hope of salvation as shaky fingers grasp at a steady figure by her side, regretting ever agreeing to this mad idea. Each fingernail digs deeper into tan skin with every painfully sharp breath the lost woman inhales. The blonde’s pulse quickens with every step she forces herself to take towards the building, conjuring up judging faces in the shadows of the church, deep black claws holding her back.

The last time she had visited a place of worship she had come to face all of her sins, called them by their names, begged for forgiveness and desperately waited for her salvation. Still, she was never cleansed of her sins, never was saved by God’s good grace. Her soul still deeply stained with blood-red roses, giving into promises of a not so lonely future. 

Yet deep down she still fears the consequences of giving into the temptation of Eden, fears being at God’s mercy. But Vanessa had sown a seed of hope into Brooke’s rotted mind, set a spark to the possibility of tasting a fruit that doesn’t bring down the heavenly garden. A believe she desperately wants to uphold, but isn’t so certain of anymore. The last time she prayed to her God, she was desperate for forgiveness of her sins. Her motivations remain the same this time around, but now she is just begging God for a different kind of forgiveness.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Vanessa,” she finally speaks up, voice trembling as she turns to her comfort blanket, her stepping stone, who attempts to calm the turmoil in her soul with just one look. 

In no way she is ready to face her fears which drown her in self-doubt at night, wake her up screaming at the top of her lungs and leave her emotionless during the rest of the day. But would she ever be ready? Could she ever repair her splitted soul? 

“You don’t have to go to the service, Brooke.” Sympathy radiates from Vanessa’s eyes as her pout pulls up into a comforting smile, “But I can assure that if you do, everything will be alright. I’ve visited this church with my mama before, and it’s the most welcoming church I’ve ever been to.” 

The brunette wasn’t necessarily lying to her, more so leaving out the part of her falling asleep during the sermon, but Brooke doesn’t need to know that.

“But what if -” the blonde’s voice sounds wobbly with fear as she attempts to put her concerns into words. Bars behind her eyes holding the ever so strong woman captivated, anxiety is ruining her hopeful mind, tainting her will to be free at last. Worst case scenarios running wild as she chips off the leftovers of her nude nail polish.

“We’ve been over this, boo”, Vanessa cuts of the squirming woman by her side, not needing to hear Brooke voicing her fears out lot, already knowing what she is going to say. She silently instructs the blonde to take a deep breath, reviving her suffocating lungs, as Vanessa gives her hand a solidarity squeeze. 

“This church celebrates diversity. No one will be judgemen-, judgement-, no one will judge you, Mami.” The brunette still struggling to gain Brooke’s trust every now and then.

Doubt still clouds the Canadian’s eyes. A heavy fog, slowly dissolving as the brunette punctuates each whispered word with as kiss to her cheek and jaw, “I’ll be right by your side, Mami, and hunt down everyone who even dares to look at you the wrong way.“

Olive skinned arms slowly wrap around a navy sundress, holding the blonde before she can fall apart. Soft fingertips drawing circles into exposed skin as a frantic heartbreak regains its normal rhythm. 

In their intertwined state, the pair catches a glimpse of two men, both in their late thirties, walking into the church, one hand holding each other, the other gripping their children’s hands. Their laughter illuminating the entrance of the holy building. Contrasting with the image of the church Brooke Lynn had painted in her mind.

As Brooke’s erratic breathing slowly calms down due to Vanesa soothingly whispering nonsense into her ear, she can untangle herself from the shorter one without feeling dizziness clouding her vision. Silently tugging at the brunette’s hand as she finally dares to walk through the gates of the church, following the footsteps of the family of four who wordlessly touched her ever so guarded heart. The red ribbon hanging above them turns into a symbol of a comforting blessing instead of a curse.

Two quiet figures, lost in their own thoughts, walk down the aisle of a barely packed church. They take a seat on a wooden bench engraved with roses at the back of the hall, hidden from noisy eyes. Brooke Lynn carefully views the faces of the visitors, her mind scanning her surroundings for potential danger, looking out for disapproving frowns, waiting to hear slurs thrown in her direction. Yet all she can find is people as diverse and colourful as Vanessa promised them to be. 

The pair made it just in time before the service starts to begin. A tanned hand on Brooke’s upper thigh, keeping her spirit in the present, hindering her mind from spiralling. The blonde attempts to focus on the sensation of Vanessa’s fingertips against her cotton dress, lightly caressing her thigh, as her muscles relax beneath the brunette’s touch. Goosebumps covering every inch Vanessa touches. Meanwhile, Brooke chooses to ignore the bottle of memories, a dangerous barrel about to explode at the back of her mind. 

The service starts with a greeting and an opening prayer by a man in his fifties, one that Brooke Lynn doesn’t dare to look in the face directly. Her eyes burning holes into the wooden bench right in front of her, just focusing on the static voice of the pastor. An old habit that had protected her at home, had kept her panic attacks at church to a minimum. Holy words fill the air around her, stinging her sensitive skin, not fully reaching the woman in need just yet.

The moment sin free fingertips open up the Holy Bible, lovingly caressing the leather cover, and the reading of the scripture begins, Brooke’s lungs forget how to carry breath at last. Her body stiffens as her throat starts caving in, thorns piercing holes in her sensitive thorax. A punch in her gut is added to her panicked state and the world around her just goes blanc. She can’t see or hear anything besides her own frantic attempt at trying to get enough oxygen into her system. She feels all too much and simultaneously doesn’t exactly know what she is feeling. Teary eyes shut close and try to unsee the cross right above her head.

”Please forgive me,“ she whimpers, as her voice painfully breaks.

Long fingernails dig deep into the softest part of her palm, drawing blood, as she tries to overhear the loud pulsing of blood in her hears. She is fully aware that oxygen is reaching her brain and flooding her system, yet she still feels like she is dying inside. Brooke seems to be the only passenger on a sinking Titanic. All alone in the ocean, screaming so loud, yet no one can hear.

Soft hands grasp at her tightened jaw, softly turning her head, before olive fingertips caress her red stained cheeks, wiping away any stray tears. The Canadian’s head rolls to the side, falling into Vanessa’s embrace. A deep sigh escapes her chewed up lips between muffled sobs.

"Shh, love, everything is alright,” Vanessa whispers, or at least as much as the woman with a truck driver voice can whisper. But she tries, for her. Keeping a low volume as she hums calming affirmations to the woman by her side.

Soft kisses are planted across still firmly shut eyelids as Brooke Lynn quietly thanks her past self for taking a seat at the back of the church, hopefully being able to slightly hide her still ongoing meltdown.

A deep breath, Brooke Lynn, a deep breath. The excruciating pain in her abdomen starts to fade with each stroke across her thigh, as honey runs down her throat, coating the thorns in her chest, protecting her lungs from ever lasting self-destruction. Another minute passes before she manages to crack her eyes open again. A face of an angel faces the wreck of a woman, shielding her from the service. Her saviour softly strokes the blonde’s beetlejuice red cheeks, fixing her heartache with a bandaid of change.

The voice of a woman, ever so calm and static, slowly enters the bubble Vanessa had created around the Canadian. The ongoing selmon, preached by a woman in her late forties, focuses on the importance of diversity in the church and the representation of LGBT+ individuals, reflecting love on Pride Sunday. As soon as the words reach the suffering woman, her head snaps back to the front, properly focusing on the selmon this time around. Her breath is still a bit heavy in her throat as her hand tightly grasps Vanessa for support, cautiously listening to the words spoken. She was so used to her body working on auto pilot during the mass, her mind usually circling around any mundane activity she could think off, trying to escape the preached words nagging at her soul. Yet all she ever needed was kind and wise words carefully unfolding the tangles of Brooke’s misery, breaking down the walls she had built up all those years ago. Hearing a member of a Christian church speak so lovingly about a commonly hated community was a better salvation than meaningless repentance could ever give her. The sight of the wooden cross above her head losing its power over her with each passing second and each kind word spoken. 

“But today, in the fifth chapter of Roman, Paul says that we rejoice not only in the glory of God but also in our sufferings. The message is not that Paul and his readers rejoice because they are suffering, but rather that they rejoice in the midst of suffering. Part of the human condition is to experience good times and difficult ones. The Bible is full of stories of people who faced immense suffering, and remained faithful to our loving God in spite of the difficulties of their own lives. Paul says that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us. Because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. We must never lose infinite hope. Progress in our society could have not come to be if suffering were an impediment for future movement. Think about that in our own context today, think about all the movements that have taken place in our society, those that have challenged discrimination. Especially on this Pride Sunday. Each triumph allows for progress to be identified, and each setback creates energy for us to keep on, because hope does not disappoint. Amen.” 

“Amen,” the crowd answers. Brooklyn whispering along, hiding her freshly shed tears behind a mask of devotion to her heavenly father. She feels a ghost of a hand hovering beneath her heart, holding it up for the world to see. Sensing an indescribable presence supporting her very being. 

The monotone, yet soul saving salmon cracks Brooke’s carefully placed walls. Her mind spins like a merry-go-round, tightly holding onto each word inspired by a scripture that had burned scars into her skin just months ago. She never thought that her suffering could not be a punishment, always had assumed the torment she had to endure was of God’s will. But with Vanessa by her side, she starts to believe every word, feels the knot in her stomach unfolding as she mouths the words - hope does not disappoint. 

The service ends with a worship tune, one that the Canadian had heard way too often during her time as a young altar servant. As the last notes vanish into thin air, Brooke slowly comes back to her senses. Her muscles begin to relax and her breathing comes out a lot smoother, slowly realizing that she just survived another mass. The blonde has witnessed a service filled with love and admiration for her kind of people with a companion by her side, showing her the way and guiding her through it. Her body completely relaxes for the first time this morning, almost utterly calm as she silently celebrates her victory of not bursting into flames the moment she had set a foot on the holy soil. 

The blonde crawls out of their bench, her legs slightly shaking after all the babel her head had to withstand, ready to leave her first experience with a gay affirming church behind, as Vanessa grabs her hand, pulling her back into her embrace. Two heavy chests collide as Vanessa’s face forms into a shit eating grin. Two women stare at each other in the middle of a filled aisle, getting lost in each other’s eyes. A small smile settles on the taller one’s lips.

“I told you so,” the short one laughs out loud before playfully groping the Canadian’s ass, receiving a high pitched shriek in return. 

“Not at church, Vanessa,” Brooke hisses as she scans the room for people who could have seen her inappropriate gesture, at least inappropriate for the place they are in. 

“I just couldn’t help myself, Mami,” Vanessa professes as she flutters her lashes seductively before she gets forcefully dragged outside by her lover. Deep laughter bounces of the walls as two not-so-broken souls make their way home.

I bow my head and turn to You

The Candian’s clean-cut apartment overlooks the busy streets of LA, traffic being an ever present white noise, one that recharges Vanessa, making her more giddy and jittery than in any other environment. Cheerful radiotunes flow through Brooke Lynn’s light blue kitchen walls and bounce off her white tiles surrounding the stove, as she hums along to a catchy pop song while finally doing the dishes. Simultaneously she tries to listen to Vanessa’s commentary to ‘The Office’ with an amused smile, as she shimmies along to the soft bass filling the air. Muted voices reach the kitchen every once in awhile, spilling over from the running TV in the living room as Vanessa’s voice mixes in, keeping Brooke’s mind from running in circles. 

Vanessa had immediately taken a seat next to Apollo and Henry on the black leather couch, both of them snuggling up to the Latina after the two emotionally exhausted women had returned from the service, starting a re-watch of their favourite show as soon as Vanessa got a hold of the TV remote. One that she had originally forced Brooke to join. Just half an hour in, the blonde excused herself, violent thoughts ruining the peaceful mind, and took on any chore that would help repairing the shattered glasshouse in her soul. One that obviously isn’t fixable with cellotape.

"Booooo, you can’t possibly know what’s going on if you’re in the kitchen,” Vanessa whines, not even five minutes after Brooke left her side to polish the dishes. 

“Nessa, the volume is high enough that even our neighbors will know what’s going on between Jim and Pam,” Brooke replies matter of factly while drying off one of the last plates. 

"But it’s not the same if you can’t see what’s happening." 

Vanessa doesn’t get a reply this time around. Dishes simply clattering in the distance.

"Broookiiieee,” the Latina whines again, dragging out each syllable.

Brooke can practically see the brunette’s plump pout quivering and her bright puppy eyes begging her to come over through the wall and decides to throw away her towel on her spotless kitchen counter with a sigh, making her way over to the needy brunette again - not able to resist her.

Vanessa greets her with grabby hands and another whine as Brooke settles by her side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Vanessa’s waist. 

“You are unbearable,” Brooke Lynn mumbles into the Latina’s curly hair before placing a shy kiss on her vanilla scented forehead. With a content hum she lays her heavy and still foggy head on Vanessa’s shoulder, while bringing her attention back to the TV. Giving her mind some space, allowing herself to just not think - embracing the emptiness. Simply enjoying being close to her ‘favourite human’ - calling her lover a more adequate name was simply too soon.

A welcoming warmth spreads through Vanessa’s body as goosebumps grace her skin wherever the Canadian’s touch reaches. With a peaceful sigh she happily receives any loving gesture Brooke might have to offer, appreciates every brush of skin against hers. A rush of serotonin flooding her system with each sweet word whispered into her ear and chaste kiss planted on her cheek. Vanessa knows that the older woman still isn’t used to showing her affection for the brunette freely, so she considers every small moment that expressed more than words could say a victory. 

The two sit together, entangled with each other, focusing on the ongoing TV show with Vanessa throwing in an obnoxiously loud comment every now and then. But soon her focus shifts to the beauty next to her, as the setting sun illuminates the living room through the large windows, making the blonde glow from within. The Latina quietly observes how the TV screen reflects in her stormy eyes, and the way her long lashes cast a soft shadow on her high cheekbones. Carefully, she traces the dried up tear tracks on the blonde’s cheek, getting her full attention within a second. Her stomach twists at the blank expression she receives.

“Do you maybe wanna talk about the service today, Mami?” Vanessa asks with the softest version of her voice, as she twirls a blond strand of hair around her finger.

“Ohh, it was nice you know,” the Canadian offhandedly comments, not brave enough to face the younger one yet, and simply straightens her posture as her eyes fixate on the TV screen in front of her, “the woman holding the selmon was a bit boring, tho’.” 

The show is slowly losing its appeal, Brooke’s darkened eyes now flick across the room, trying to find something she can focus on without losing track of what she is sharing with the woman by her side. An attempt to close off her heart once again.

All of a sudden, a warm hand appears on her shaking thigh, a reminder that she can’t fool the woman who already knows her darkest thoughts without speaking them into existence. Numb grey eyes watch olive fingertips draw circles on her leg, wondering if the silent spell imprinted on her skin could ever keep away the demons in her mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, the message was really nice, nearly brought me to tears, but she really can’t preach. She definitely should apply for a seminar or something like that…” she trails off, still not able to face the loving figure right by her side. Her sweating palms ball into loose fists. A brave soldier fighting her own mind on the battleground of the shared love.

Both women are completely aware of the unspoken words hanging in the air between them, thighs brushing as heavy breathing fills the silence between them. The Canadian’s mind desperately tries to suppress the events of the morning, clings to the present as if it was her last lifeline. Focuses on the pounding in her ears and her heartbeat increasing with each soft fingertip caressing her skin, coaxing her shattered soul.

“Brooke,” Vanessa speaks up again, softly placing her hand above Brooke Lynn’s fidgeting fingers. Her heart breaks at the sight next to her.

“She is probably a nice woman, you know, just not that well spoken and all-” her nervous rambling sets in, trying to restrain the words she really wants to say out loud, bubbling up in her throat.

“Brooke, are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room?”

The blonde finally really looks at Vanessa again, pity painting a compassionate picture on her flawless face. A shameful head hangs low, staring at the Latina through heavy eyelids, her mouth agape as she searches for the right words. Her heart heavy in her chest, she slowly shakes her dizzy head. No, she couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room. 

Silence falls between the two women, as the older one freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes fixated on the space between Vanessa’s eyes - staring - trying to find her words, trying to clear her messy mind. A deep breath, hold it in, exhale slowly. Repeat. 

“I just, I don’t know what came over me. I really thought you being there with me - I -” a lump in her throat hindering her from spilling the truth like an overflowing sink.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it it’s fine, Mami. But it might help to figure it all out and shit,” Vanessa interferes Brooke’s rambling, interlocking their fingers - attempts to give her some comfort while reassuring the Canadian that she’s not alone.

Vanessa’s never been good at serious conversations. She is always the one to loosen up a tense moment or overly emotional situation with a joke or two, prefers seeing a loved one laugh because of the Puerto Rican woman stumbling over her own words,than seeing them cry. But what Vanessa had witnessed this morning had startled her, left her a bit shaken up. It wasn’t just a friend crying over a fuckboy or accidentally deleting their bachelor’s thesis. This was a silent and heart wrenching cry for help which she couldn’t brush off. The state she had seen her in was heartbreaking to say the least. An event she couldn’t simply forget, couldn’t leave unspoken about.

“It’s just that the moment they started reading from the scripture I was suddenly back in my old church, waiting to hear homophobic slurs fall from pastor’s lips, and it somehow felt like the walls kept caving in and all,” she whispers out loud, eyes closed, hands tightly gripping at Vanessa’s figure.

Breath in, breath out.

“I lost it today. I genuinely lost it. Looking back at it, it doesn’t seem to bad. I keep telling myself that people have it worse, that I am not that fucked up. But I genuinely thought I would go up in flames, die from my sins and so on.” Another deep breath, an attempt to calm her shaking voice, an attempt to buy her some time. “But even though I might have had to endure one of my worst days today, I don’t wanna give up just yet, Nessa.”

Pleading eyes stare into concerned doe ones framed by furrowed brows. Each hand squeeze and each calming word are like medicine for her sick soul. A lost soul finding her way back home, as she hopes to find her saving grace within the love and compassion the brunette so freely gives to her.

As Vanessa silently tucks a strand of blonde stray hair behind her ear and studies her, like she wants unravel her soul and love her entire being, Brooke just knows it’s her - it’s always been Vanessa.

She is the one.

“I can’t give up now. You know that God used to be such a big part of my life, and I wanna find my way back to him, eventually. The service today truly wasn’t the best I’ve ever visited, and I kinda miss a lot of our old traditions we had at church, which I obviously got accustomed to. Just the vibe in general was so different, something that really threw me off.”

Another pause. A healing woman too distracted by olive toned fingertips temptingly caressing her sides, wandering south without the owner’s intention. 

“Yet despite all of this, the selmon somehow ignited a spark in me, reminded me where I truly belong - in God’s arms - and I don’t wanna let it die just yet,” Brooke attempts to explain, not being able to express what she is truly feeling through the limited space within mundane words.

“So you wanna go back?” The Latina lifts a perfectly painted brow, hands settle by her side as her lips fall agape into an O-shape while asking her question. 

“No. Not at all.” She firmly shakes her head, a slight shiver running down her porcelain skin just at the thought of having to go there again. “But maybe we could take a look at St Thomas? It’s an epostical church. Only if you would come with me, though…” Brooke timidly voices her plan after a small pause, biting the skin around her nails again.

“Why this one?”

“You know, Nina said some of her les-, lesbian friends go there. It’s apparently a bit more traditional, which in hindsight could trigger another panic attack, but it’s still affirming,” she sighs deeply, realising she doesn’t even know what she actually wants just yet, “I don’t know what to do, Nessa. I just know that I don’t wanna give up just yet. I guess I finally found a point of convergence, so I can’t let either go. But that doesn’t mean I can’t prioritize one over the other currently.”

“And what exactly would you prior- priority-, shit, pick over the other, Mami?” The brunette softly asks, one brow raised as she nervously chews up her bottom lip. Her mouth runs dry, causing her to swallow hard. What if her love chooses her faith over Vanessa? Would she let her go? Fight for her to stay or just accept defeat? 

Tiny poisonous bugs crawl in her veins, a threat to the blooming garden of affection in her heart. Her skin itching as electricity shoots through her limbs and her leg shaking as she anxiously anticipates an answer.

“You.” 

One cut clear word makes Vanessa’s world stand still for a second, before it goes back to spinning at twice its original speed. Brows raised high as she stares at the blonde beauty wide eyed in disbelief.

“Pinch me, bitch.” A dead serious face reduces the blonde to a giggling mess right in front of her, biting her lip to smile along with her contagious laugh, before a tiny whisper in her head extinguishes every ounce of doubt. Maybe she really loves her back. The brunette’s lips raise into a smug grin, her heart beating at a record speed.

“There’s no need for that, sweetheart,” she interferes with another heartfelt laughter. “I think I really love you, Vanessa, and even though I didn’t really wanna admit it, I have to face the truth.” She gives herself another second before continuing, takes in all of the different emotions playing out on Vanessa’s face. Joy, fear, and at last - love. 

“I have enough time to figure out my struggle with religion, but I don’t wanna lose any time I’ve got with you over an internal battle I can’t win,” the shaking in her voice intensifies with each word until she can barely pronounce anything at all properly. Her mind feverishly taking in all sensations, a spark of electricity shooting through her bones the moment Vanessa’s slim arms wrap around her with a loud yelp.

Fireworks have been ignited in the brunnette, joy buzzing through her veins as she climbs into the older woman’s lap. Her cheeks burning from a straining smile stretched across her face. Skin on skin, transmitting heat to the other, simply feeling alive as Vanessa carefully listens to Brooke Lynn’s increasing heartbeat.

A small tear settles at the Canadian’s lash line. A tear full of hope, love, and the prospect of a wonderful future ahead. Shaking fingertips dab at the wet spot, grey eyes looking up to the ceiling. The lost woman only just realizing that her home is in the tiny Latina’s arms, finally accepting that Vanessa never brought her off the right path, but that she was the right way all along. The path that could lead her to self-acceptance and to God.

“Don’t make me cry, boo,” the brunette replies as she stifles a small sob as well, softly biting down on a knuckle, pinching herself. 

“It’s just that there is still a long road of self-acceptance ahead of me. Hurdles to overcome - like my family’s reaction to all of this.“ The Canadian gestures between the two of them with sadness tainted smile burdening her otherwise happy complexion. “But I still wanna tackle live by your side and keep taking baby steps from now. ”

Brooke punctuates her heartfelt speech by grabbing Vanessa’s hand and soothingly caressing the flesh she had just pinned between her teeth. Bright stormy eyes, as calm as the brunette had ever seen, stare into sparkling doe ones, toothy grins falling into place.

“I know I’ll find my way back to religion one day, might even become the ‘godly wife’ you deserve,” she says with a small giggle referring to her mother’s words, giving Vanessa’s soft hands a small squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to her dry knuckles, “but right now I just wanna focus on you - giving us a shot. And I would be very grateful if you would take my hand along the way.”

Brooke pulls the wide eyed brunette as close as humanly possible, wanting to feel every inch of her, giving their souls a chance to grow an everlasting bond. Cats snuggle closer to the two intertwined lovers and Vanessa let’s her love-clouded head fall onto Brooke’s shoulder. A deep content sigh escapes the Puerto Rican’s lips. 

As the blonde beauty places a lingering kiss at the corner of Vanessa’s mouth, the brunnette still finds an ounce of doubt lingering behind the stormy eyes. Everything was turning out all too well. The younger one should have known this couldn’t be real. 

“Do you really want this?” Vanessa barely whispers, too afraid of the answer she might receive. Fear leaking out of her desperate eyes with each second passing in silence as the tiny woman squirms in Brooke’s lap. A cold hand steadies her shaking thighs, keeping her in place.

Brooke Lynn knows that she wants all of it. She wants a little house with a white picket fence, giddy children, and cats roaming her own heavenly garden. Vanessa and herself - hand in hand - building a family. She wants to be a godly wife to this stunning goddess. No, Brooke doesn’t only simply want it, she craves it deep down. A seed of love sown into her chest the moment she had meet the Latina. It scares her. But she knows that it’s a good kind of fear. One that wraps you up slowly, constricting your whole essence, until you accept your fate. Turning the lingering fear into a comfort blanket of hope, embracing it.

She wants to say all of that and even more, scream her love for the brunette at the top of her lungs, yet simply answers with “Yes,” as she longingly stares at Vanessa’s lips.

Doe eyes light up at the simple word and peach painted lips crash into hers. Soft lips slightly brushing against each other, luring out a slight hum from the Latina. Teeth gracefully tugging at her bottom lip, making her eyes flutter shut as a shiver runs down the brunette’s spine. Bodies curving into each other, hands roaming, and noses bumping into each other as giggles fill the space between their lips. Two lovesick woman desperately trying to hold onto the other, fearing their dream to disappear. Cheeks flushing and sparks flying as two souls intertwine, dancing to the song of love. 

And as the two women find their loving home within each other, droplets of heavenly water baptize God’s lost daughters’ souls, finalizing their bond. A spell that cannot be broken.

[yuinosery]

Souls and Promises

Pairing: Emet-Selch x Warrior of Light/OC

Words:  1576

Originally Posted:  2019-08-27

Summary:  just a little talk about souls

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414224

"if you weren't the Warrior of Light, what do you think you'd be?"

Yuino stopped at the sudden sound of Emet-Selch. She had neither heard him void in nor realized his presence in her inn room for the past 20 minutes he had been there.

Perplexed at his sudden interest in her, she shrugged. "I don't know." was her simple answer. "You don't know?", he asked just as perplexed.

"Well, yeah." She stopped from tidying up her bed and looked at him standing in front of the window. "It's not like I remember anything from before starting my adventure, so I don't really know.", she continued and resumed her cleaning.

Her answer didn't surprise Emet as much as he first expected. He had heard a similar answer before, thousands of years ago. He snarled. His eyes really weren't playing him a trick now were they?

She hummed a bit while cleaning up, thinking of the past few days. "Say, Emet.", she began, hearing him snarl again. She had called him Emet a few times before, always a bit to his annoyance.

"When you searched for Y'shtola, you said something along the lines of looking for her 'color'. What does that mean?", she turned around and eyed him.

He saw the curiousity in Yuinos every feature, it was a bit like she would explode were he not to explain. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm curious and you did say that if we scions ever needed an answer you'd be willing to answer.", she immediately shot back shortly after the question escaped his lips. A sigh soon followed.

He thought for a bit, not sure how to exactly explain it to her. Would he go into too much detail, he'd have to deal with her being too noisy, if he explained too little, her curiosity would stay unsatisfied. And then there was the question if she would ask for more than he was willing to answer at the moment.

"It's simple, really. Every soul has its own color. Though most are faded versions of them nowadays.", he answered nonchalantly, hoping this would be enough though knowing that it wouldn't be.

"So what is the color of my soul?", Yuino asked, curiousity now fully laid bare. He cringed, he didn't want to have to answer that question. He knew her color by heart and yet hated seeing it again. But he also couldn't resist satisfying the brimming curiosity in her eyes.

"It's a shade of dark red. Like a river full of blood.", Emet answered after a few awkward minutes. Yuino sat down on the bed hearing that. What a curious comparison that seemed to her. But there was another burning question in her.

"Does every soul have its own color or do some souls have the same ones?", she asked, dragging out the words a bit to lengthen the sentence and give herself time to think about what she was saying while saying it.

Seemingly tired from standing near the window, Emet began to walk over to her and sit down on the bed next to her, looking down on his hands. It was barely above a whisper when he finally answered: "No. Every soul has its own color, its own shade."

Yuino hummed and stared at his hands while mulling over that answer a bit. He knew the next question she would ask, knowing full well he didn't want to answer it.

"So have you...", she trailed off, not sure she actually wanted to know the answer. Would she actually want to know if he had met her soul over the aeons already? It was a question on her mind, but what if the answer wasn't to her satisfaction? What if he had and they had been in an eternal fight all the time?

Yuino trailing off gave Emet the chance to consider how he would answer. He didn't want to lie, he had no reason to lie, yet he also did not want to say the truth. Say how often he had met her in her many incarnations, how often they had fallen in love and had lived together through the years.

With each and every incarnation had he fallen in love, living in peace for a short time before having them be taken from him again. All of them shared that faint hue of dark red, the curiosity and love that brimmed with every fiber of their being. But Yuino had been the first one to remind him fully of how She used to be. None of the incarnations had been such near perfect replicas like Yuino had been.

He had noticed it before, but this nights chat had truly proven it to him. All of the incarnations had their memory in tact, remembering their whole life. It had only been Yuino that shared the trait of not remembering anything with Her. That same memory wipe that had occurred to Her after Hydaelyn had been created. It pained him to remember.

"Does it matter? Every soul is their own being. There is no need for you to know.", Emet said after the silence continued, hoping to also give her mind a rest as she continued to think about her question. When he looked up at her, she seemed relaxed and content with what he said. She even nodded a few times.

A few minutes of silence passed between the two before Yuino spoke up again. "You seem weirdly content with knowing I have no memory.", she said while turning to him. Emet shrugged. "What, do you expect me to be this interested in you?", he snarled.

She laughed, a sound that resonated within him deeply, before shaking her head. "I guess not.", she turned to look at the window he had previously stood next to, "it's just that everyone else who finds out bugs me with so many questions." She sighed remembering her chats with the scions when she had told them.

"How I ended up choosing my name, if it is actually my name or something I just came up with, my age, what it was like and so much more. I guess it's just that I'm more used to people asking me about this weird situation I am in than when I'm not asked."

Emet studied her face as she murmured her tale. She seemed both happy and lost looking back at those conversations. But it did make him curious - why had she chosen that name? He cared, deeply, to find out but was also not sure if he wanted to ask. Before he could however, she continued.

"When I came to, on that ride to Gridania, and was asked for my name... It was just a name that immediately came to mind. It resonated with me and that's why I've been using it. Sometimes I wonder if I should have thought of something or just didn't answer. Delayed until I knew since it does give me weird looks sometimes that I'm a Miqo'te and yet have no fitting name."

A smile formed on her face when she thought about that. Emet kept his eyes on her face for a moment before also turning his head towards the window. "It's a beautiful name.", he said, making sure not to look at her no matter how much he wanted to. Her smile grew bigger at his words and she chuckled. "Yeah, I think so too."

Hours passed with the two continuing to chat. After a while, as Yuino grew more and more tired, she rested her head on Emets shoulder. She had expected him to protest or move away, but instead he laid his head on hers. They continued talking like this for a while before she fell asleep. Not wanting to move and wake her, he continued to sit there and let her sleep on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, having made sure she was actually asleep, he intertwined his left hand with her right hand and started to caress her cheek with his right hand. After an evening of inner turmoil and seeing a near perfect copy of Her, this motion was soothing for him.

His fingers started to trail off as he kept thinking of times long, long ago. Of the Yuino he had loved, the one who had betrayed and then forgotten him. And before he could stop himself, he started talking to the sleeping incarnation.

"You're just like Her, strong, caring, honest, curious, so full of love and so easily shaken by every tragedy that happens. That same amnesia after getting in contact with Hydaelyn. It irritates me. But there is also the way how colors just seem so much brighter when I'm around you, just like aeons ago with Her.

There has always been this pull I've been feeling towards this damn soul shard of yours. All these other incarnations and you... I wonder, were you to rejoin with all your shards, would She stand in front of me again?"

He paused for a moment, basking in memories of times long gone.

"I wish I could tell you so many things, but time nor the situation are on our side. I wish I could spend the rest of your time with you and yet... I know this is not something either of us can actually do. I just hope, no, wish that when the time comes, you promise to remember. Remember me, remember us, just... Remember."

[arteacactus]

Deceitful Battle

Warnings: Cursing, death, wounds, burning, ummm cant remember what else Prompt: “I almost lost you.” Pairing: Logeit (Logan x Deceit), Prinxiety Word count: 4596 Notes: This is set in the same universe as Dragon Fights Tagging: @fandomdiabetes, @fandergecko, and @logic-logan-sanders

“Guys, come on! It’s not that bad..”

“We are literally trapped inside your mind palace! Last time we were here, we got attacked by a massive dragon- what if that happens again?”

“Calm down, Virgil, I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” Roman soothed, though it was clear by the way his fingers twitched towards his sword holster that he remembered that incident very vividly and he was nervous about it happening again.

See, Roman wanted to go back to the mindspace again, for another grand adventure. However, Patton (and Virgil) demanded that everyone go with him, to make sure no more severe injuries happened.

However, trying to get six people into his own fairytale world wasn’t as easy as he’d previously thought.

On the way, Roman had lost focus- and got them dumped in a forest.

Not the worst place to be dumped, if Roman were to be honest. They could have been dropped in the Lava Zone of his mindspace.

The forest was quite pretty, he wasn’t sure what they were all worried about. The trees were tall and lush, a soft, cool breeze rustling the green leaves. The light on the leaves made the forest take a golden/green glow, casting dapples of light on the forest floor, which was thick with ferns and weeds.

Accompanying the sound of leaves rustling, birds sung their songs in the distance, and a woodpecker tapped at a tree in time, as if providing a beat for them to sing to. Roman saw a deer in the distance, casually trotting through the bushes and occasionally stopping to nibble at a flower. A family of squirrels chattered to each other in a nearby tree, dropping acorns onto the ground, thunking against a fallen tree trunk.

Taking a deep breath in, smelling the cool, damp air, Roman smiled. He wondered how he could have managed to stay away for so long.

Thomas joined Roman in looking around, while Patton tried to soothe Virgil’s rising anxiety, and Logan.. Well, Logan was paying more attention to the fifth Side, who no one else knew was there.

Deceit had shapeshifted into an actual snake, scales sleek and black, shimmering in the golden rays of the sunlight, piercing yellow eyes staring right back at Logan, as if silently asking his boyfriend what they should do.

Logan knew that Deceit definitely shouldn’t take on human form around the others- especially Virgil. The poor Side was anxious enough as it is, seeing Deceit might just drive him to the point of no return.

Logan shook his head, silently telling the other they’d discuss it later, and lifted his arm towards the treebranch Deceit was coiled around, allowing the snake to slither up his arm and in his sleeve, tucking himself into Logan’s shirt, so he could still be with them and be well hidden.

“Well! I suppose we should go looking for my Kingdom, then.” Roman declared, pulling his sword out of its holster and raising it in the air, watching it shimmer and gleam, as the rays of light reflecting off the sword slowly game together to point in the direction of Roman’s castle.

“What is this, Shadow of The Colossus?” Virgil muttered under his breath when he could manage to speak again, his anxiety soothed for the most part, but he was still really tense.

“Shut up,” Roman huffed, tucking his sword away once more. “We have to go North!” He exclaimed, pointing in the direction he said, then starting to walk.

“Roman, kiddo, that’s West-”

“That’s what I said.”

It’s only been an hour and quite frankly, Logan couldn’t handle it anymore.

It was too.. Illogical, here!

There were weirdly colored butterflies (seriously, why are they rainbow?), deer with wings, dragons, etc., and it was just- all too much for him. He felt like he was about to explode.

“Roman, can we stop and rest?” Virgil whined for the umpteenth time, “My feet hurt and I need a nap and-”

“Yes, Virgil, we get it, you’re suffering.” Logan muttered under his breath, tuning the Anxious Side out. He felt the lump beneath his shirt squirm, and he gently prodded at it, silently telling Deceit to stay still, but he knew he was also getting restless. Even Roman seemed to be getting tired.

“I can see the shadow of the Kingdom over there, though!” Roman exclaimed, pointing his gleaming sword towards the hills, where they could, in fact, see the shadow of Roman’s castle.

They had managed to get just outside the forest, walking along the edge of the trees. The sun was high in the sky, hot and beating down on them, making it hard for them to escape the shade of the forest. Even the cool breeze blowing past didn’t help much.

The sky was a vibrant blue, no cloud in sight. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees and sent a couple gently floating down in front of them as they walked in the direction of the castle, keeping close to the forest just in case the sun got too unbearable.

They passed the area where Virgil and Roman had been attacked a while ago, which had made them quicken their pace so Virgil wouldn’t get overwhelmed by his anxiety, and they were on edge, waiting for something to happen.

Everyone was tense, always glancing around themselves and jumping at every little sound. Patton’s hand had brushed against a fern and he’d screeched, clinging to Thomas and refused to let go since.

So when they heard a distant roar, everyone froze in their tracks, and paled instantly.

Virgil immediately slammed into Roman’s side. “Into the trees. Now. We’re staying in there until we absolutely have to leave.”

“But Virgil-” Roman tried to protest, but Virgil didn’t let him- and Patton didn’t, either, both the Anxious and Moral Sides pulling the others into the trees to hide, hearing the sounds of screeching roars grow steadily louder as the dragon drew nearer.

“Why are there so many dragons in this place, Roman?” Thomas angrily whispered, though it was more out of fear than anything else.

“I don’t know!” Roman replied honestly, letting himself be shoved into cover this time, “There usually aren’t this many..”

“Well that’s comforting.” Virgil snapped, “Why do you have to wear white and gold? Do you know how easy it is for a dragon to spot your flashy bright colors?”

“Well I’m sorry, I-”

“Roman, Virgil, now is not the time.” Thomas snapped, sinking into the ferns as a dark shadow flew overhead, an ear-splitting shriek filling the air.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Patton continuously mumbled under his breath, trembling nervously as he watched the shadow move on the ground in front of them. The dragon itself wasn’t yet visible, but the shadow alone was enough to make Patton want to cry.

Logan caught the glint in Roman’s eye, and he gripped Roman’s sash.

“No. You are not going out there.”

“But!” Roman protested, “If I don’t deal with it now, it’s going to attack my people!”

“That’s what you said last time!” Virgil exclaimed in outrage, “And you nearly died!”

“I’m more than willing to give up my life to protect my Kingdom.” Roman replied, and the ground shook as the dragon finally landed in the open area in front of them.

It was large- smaller than the one Roman and Virgil had faced, but it was still massive. Presumably male, if its size and little muscle was anything to go by.

Its scales were black as coal, but they were patchy, only sections of the dragon covered in the black, hardened scales, the skin underneath a vibrant fiery orange. The dragon’s body was long, black spikes running along its spine, from head to tail-tips. Said head was also small, snout long and thin, black billowing smoke coming from the nostrils.

Giant, black horns curled out the dragon’s head, matching the look of the spikes that grew out of his haunches, pointing towards his tails.

Speaking of tails, this dragon in particular had two long, thin tails, swinging rapidly back in forth to express his agitation, one of them curling around its large feet, massive, pointed claws picking at the ground.

Malicious red eyes caught sight of a gleaming in the forest, Roman’s sword still reflecting light, and the dragon swung his head around to face the group hiding out in the trees, lip curling to reveal rows of sharp teeth, more smoke puffing from its nose. Large wings fanned out threateningly, thin, orange skin of the wings slightly torn.

“Roman..” Virgil growled under his breath as he felt Roman’s muscles bunch beneath his hands that rested on his shoulders.

Logan, distracted by the sight of the massive dragon, loosened his grip on Roman’s sash, and allowed the Creative Side to lunge out into the clearing, sword rose high in the air and dashing towards the foot of the dragon.

“Roman! No!” Virgil screeched, making a move to follow him. Patton and Thomas grabbed onto the Anxious Side, yelling at him to stay still, but Virgil fought their hold- slapping at the two and stomping on their feet in his desperation to get them to let go, let him go stop Roman. “Let me go- Roman! Get back here! Roman!”

Roman either couldn’t hear him, or ignored him, and he dashed towards the dragon with his sword raised in the air, boots slipping on the ground and causing him to lose balance, plunging the sword into the dragon’s foot.

However, Roman didn’t realize that, as a fire dragon, it’s veins flowed with lava instead of blood, so when its skin began to bubble and he pulled his sword out to it being melted to the hilt, he realized he’d made a grave mistake in attacking.

Roman gave up with the sword, tossing the hilt of it elsewhere as he climbed up the dragon’s foot, ignoring the screeching whines of the creature from being stabbed, avoiding the leaking lava-blood as he grabbed a hold of the patchy scales and used them to pull his way up, climbing up the arm.

“Do you use the same fighting tactic for every dragon you fight, you idiot?” Virgil hissed, giving up on trying to struggle against Patton and Thomas’ hold, falling limp in their arms.

Logan watched in silence, Deceit’s head peeking up through the collar of his shirt to watch the fight, too, staring at Roman as he struggled to climb up the dragon’s body, which was much more difficult with the patchy scales and the creature’s extremely hot skin.

“What is he trying to do?” Logan mumbled. Roman didn’t have any sort of weapon. His sword was melted, what could he possibly do to this creature?

Roman, despite the dragon furiously shaking and raising his feet to scratch at the area Roman was to get him off, managed to get atop the dragon’s head, gripping its horns. Pulling out a smaller dagger he’d kept in his pocket, he jammed it into the ridge of its horn, and managed to crack it, splitting the horn in half. The dragon let out a loud, pained cry, rearing up on its hind legs and flapping its wings. He shook his head and lifted a front foot, claws digging at its horn to try and peel Roman off of him.

Roman lifted his foot, kicking the split part of the horn, and the dragon hooked its own horn with its claws, and ended up ripping his own horn off, the broken end falling to the ground.

Roman tried to hold on, but the thrashing of the dragon’s head was too much, and he fell, the creature’s wing swinging around and smacking into Roman, sending him flying towards the ground.

Roman choked out a small, breathless cry when he smacked painfully into the ground, and Logan tensed, not feeling Deceit slowly slither out of his shirt and away from the group, instead going up a tree, eyes narrowed in concentration. Deceit had a plan.

Thomas and Patton couldn’t stop him this time, and Virgil sprinted, ignoring the surprised and worried yells for him to come back.

Virgil bent over and grabbed Roman, lifting him into his arms, and rather than trying to fight the dragon itself, he ran back to the trees, clutching the Prince close to his chest. He refused to do this again. They were going to flee, whether they wanted to or not.

As soon as Virgil made it back, though, a second loud, screeching roar arose from above them, and Logan’s eyes stretched wide in surprise as a second dragon came crashing down right on top of the first.

The new one was bigger and bulkier than the fire dragon, scales shiny and black as night. Its underbelly, eyes, and thin skin of its wings were a vibrant shade of gold, sparkling as the sun hit it, almost like glitter.

While the others were confused, because this dragon was incredibly plain compared to the others, Logan felt his heart stop.

Deceit.

“No!” He immediately shrieked, much to the shock of the others, and Logan felt his feet move but his mind was still frozen in shock, trying to lunge towards the two creatures. He vaguely felt hands grip at his arms and pull him back, refusing to let him go, but he didn’t know who they belonged to. His mind repeated the same thing over and over again.

Deceit, Deceit, Deceit, Deceit, Dol-

Logan let out another cry when Deceit attacked, raising his massive foot and stabbing his claws into the fire dragon’s eyes, seemingly ignoring the painful burn of the boiling blood scorching his claws and scales.

The fire dragon screeched, swinging one of its tails around and hooking a spike into Deceit’s wing, ripping at the thin skin and tearing it apart. While Deceit let go of the other’s face from pain, roaring and whining, the fire dragon took the distraction as a chance to make his own attack, snapping his jaws at Deceit and clamping his mouth around his neck, standing on his hind legs and forcing Deceit to lift himself to his hind legs as well, wings flapping in an attempt to keep his balance, front feet scratching and ripping at the dragon’s face in a weak struggle to get him to let go. His own large, clunky tail swung around and smacked at the other’s feet, trying to knock him off balance and let go of his throat, but he couldn’t manage to do so, only resulting in the fire dragon digging his fangs harder into him.

Deceit lifted one of his massive paws and dug his claws into the other’s head, putting force on his horns and cracking it even more, the severe pain making it roar and let go of Deceit’s throat.

Deceit backed away a bit, regaining his balance on all fours, breathing heavily, before he dove right back in, slamming into the other and shoving it into the ground, feet hitting the other’s belly and pushing his weight into it, trying to break bones the best he could.

The fire dragon screeched, then opened its jaws wide, and a cloud of smoke was Deceit’s only warning before large, hot flames burst into his face and body, burning his scales and skin.

Deceit didn’t let the flames licking at him bother him, continuing to use his claws to rip and tear at the fire dragon’s skin despite the burns and the slices from the other’s own claws scratching at him.

Logan watched the whole thing in utter horror, eyes stretched wide as he gazed at his boyfriend getting hurt so he could protect Roman and the others, and he distantly heard choked sobs- maybe from him, or someone else, he wasn’t sure- past the sounds of pained, aggressive screeching and roaring, Deceit’s skin bubbling with blisters from the fire.

“Stop it!” Logan heard himself scream without realizing it, “Get back here! Stop it!”

Instead of stopping, Deceit dove his head and clamped his teeth around the other’s throat, but he realized his mistake a second too late- the fire dragon rolled them over, slamming his body into Deceit’s and forcing them to swap positions, wings flapping in an attempt to take the fight to the air, where the fire dragon would have an advantage over Deceit.

Deceit screamed again, lifting one of his feet to stab into the other’s eyes once more, this time managing to rip them from their sockets, successfully blinding the creature.

At the loss of sight, the fire dragon finally let go, releasing Deceit with a startled screech, followed by pained whimpering, and it admitted defeat, wings beating hard and sending harsh gusts of winds to blow across the area, flattening the grass and rustling the leaves on the trees, lifting itself into the air and clumsily flying off.

Deceit laid there for a second, before his body began to glow, slowly taking shape back into human form.

Logan took advantage of the other’s shocked state to shove away the hands of whoever was holding him back, and he bolted, running straight into the battlefield, approaching Deceit’s worn, wounded body.

Logan fell to his knees next to the other, taking in his appearance. Deceit was missing his gloves, hat, and cape, his shirt and pants ripped up severely, soaked with blood from the deep gashes in his body, as well as severe burns all over his face and torso.

“Deceit? Deceit?” Logan repeated desperately, raising a hand to the unburned part of Deceit’s face, stroking his hair. “Deceit?” He tried again, but Deceit didn’t respond- he was hardly breathing.

“Dolion Sanders, please,” Logan choked on another sob, vaguely hearing thudding as the others came running up to join them (other than Roman, of course- Virgil was carrying him).

“Deceit?” Thomas managed to get out in his shocked state, but Logan didn’t let anyone question it any further.

“Help him!” Logan demanded, lifting his gaze to the Sides, “Do fucking something!”

“H-Hold onto me,” Roman managed to get out, coughing weakly into his arm, “I can.. I can use the magical energy leftover from the dragon and take us to the Kingdom.”

Logan didn’t even bother trying to question it, he lifted Deceit into his arms, wincing at the other’s pained groan from Logan touching the wounds, and he grabbed a hold of Roman- and sure enough, in the blink of an eye, they were suddenly standing inside a city in the Prince’s Kingdom.

Predictably, the people flipped. Their Prince, as well as his family, had just appeared in their city, severely injured, and one of them near death.

“Prince Roman!” Cried one woman, who immediately ushered the group to the nearest hospital, not bothering with introductions or asking what’d happened. They approached a strangely modern-looking building, tall and white, covered in windows to what Logan assumed was hospital rooms. Actually, now that he was in Roman’s Kingdom, it was all modern. It didn’t look.. Skyrim-like, like he’d assumed it would. It just looked like a big city.

Thomas, Patton, Virgil, and Roman walked through the hospital doors without a fuss- but Logan and Deceit were stopped.

“I’m sorry, but.. We were given direct orders from Prince Roman not to let him in.” A kind lady stopped Logan, clearly referring to Deceit when she’d said ‘him’.

Logan watched the others continue to be ushered into the emergency room, not realizing they’d just lost two of their group, and Logan felt his blood boil with rage.

“He’s almost dead! Who gives a fuck what Roman said?” Logan snapped, “This is a hospital, isn’t it? Help him!”

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” The woman stammered, but Logan didn’t let her finish.

If she wouldn’t help him, he was going to find some place that would.

Logan turned on his heel and left, clutching Deceit tight to his chest, leaving the hospital and jogging down the cobblestone sidewalk. Surely, he could find another hospital somewhere here-

“Prince Logan!”

The call stopped him in his tracks.

Logan turned to face a short girl with long, blonde curly hair, big brown eyes staring up at him. “Prince Logan, I can help Prince Deceit- just, we have to hurry to my home. He.. might not have much time left.”

Logan decided not to question why he and Deceit were being referred to as Princes, or who this person even was- He just wanted help for his boyfriend and he wanted it now.

“Lead the way.” Logan got out through gritted teeth. His heart was pounding and it felt like his lungs were being crushed, anxiety overwhelming him. Is this really what Virgil went through daily? He’d have to give him a hug or something next time he saw him. He didn’t know how he did it. He had a new level of respect for the Anxious Side.

Logan looked down at Deceit, laying limp in his arms, and he felt the lump in his throat grow. What if they were already too late? What if he died- because he wanted to save Roman? Of all ways Deceit could have died, Logan never thought that would be one of them.

Suddenly Logan was jerked out of his thoughts by Deceit being taken from his arms, and he realized he was standing inside a house.

“Where are you taking him?” He demanded, feeling a rush of protectiveness fill him.

“Cleaning his wounds,” The girl replied, “Sit down, please.. This shouldn’t take too long.” She promised, carrying Deceit into what Logan assumed was the bathroom.

Logan let out a breath, and he walked towards a nearby couch. He didn’t bother to take in his surroundings, he suddenly felt exhausted and he needed to sit down.

Sinking into the couch cushions, Logan pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He forced himself to relax, letting out a sigh and dropping his hands to his lap. He was going to let himself calm down for a couple seconds.

Logan slowly opened his eyes, a sleepy groan leaving him as he woke.

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep. He must have been really tired.

Straightening his back, and wincing at the stiffness in his neck, he blinked away the blurriness in his eyes, and saw, on the couch across from him, Deceit sitting up and dressed in his clothes, but they weren’t torn up like they had been. His face didn’t have any wounds (other than a small scar under his right eye), but Logan could see where a massive burn scar travelled from his neck down, no doubt covering a fair amount of skin on his torso. His face was also lacking its usual scales- he must have them hidden so he could speak freely without lies clouding his conversations.

“Logan, you’re awake.” Deceit smiled, taking notice of the other studying him, “You were out for a couple hours, I was starting to get worried.”

“I’m going to kill you for almost dying,” Logan threatened, but with his voice still deep from sleep and slightly slurred, it wasn’t all too intimidating.

Deceit chuckled. “Okay.” He replied, standing up slowly, visibly flinching as his clothes pressed against his wounds, making his way towards Logan and sitting next to him.

“How are you healed? And your clothes..?” Logan questioned, leaning lightly into Deceit’s unscarred side.

“The girl who lives here? She’s a witch. Used to be a doctor in training but quit. Exceptionally skilled with her healing magic, and she used her magic to patch up my clothes, too.” Deceit replied, lips pressing to Logan’s hair.

“Oh..” Logan hummed, shoulders slumping. “.. You worried me, you idiot.” He muttered, “Don’t do that again. Please. You scared me so bad, I-I-” Logan began to get choked up again, trembling at the thought of Deceit actually dying.

“I won’t,” Deceit promised, “Or, I’ll try not to. That’s a promise.”

Logan decided that’s about the best he was going to get, and he was still too tired to argue, so he dropped it for now, letting out a huff. “Speaking of the girl- where is she?”

“Left, she has duties. She said we can leave whenever.”

“Are you able to walk okay?” Logan asked. He would prefer to leave as soon as possible, but if Deceit couldn’t walk very well, he wouldn’t make them do so.

“Of course I can,” Deceit replied, taking hold of one of Logan’s hands, and shakily standing, silently urging Logan to do the same with a quick tug of his hand.

Logan was quick to follow, hand instinctively resting on Deceit’s back to hold him steady just in case he really couldn’t walk good. “Dolion-”

“I’ll be okay, Loganberry.” Deceit cut him off, “Okay?”

Logan frowned at him, but gave in. “.. Okay, Lio.”

And as they walked out the front door together (Logan still holding onto Deceit’s hand just in case), the first thing they saw was Thomas, Patton, Virgil, and Roman petting some stranger’s dog.

Logan shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he led Deceit towards the others, lacing their fingers together. It was still a little strange to hold his hand when he wasn’t wearing his gloves.

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed, immediately abandoning the dog to run to Logan, lunging at him and attacking him in a hug.

Logan stumbled, letting go of Deceit’s hand to balance himself, making sure Patton didn’t topple them over, while the others slowly approached, clearly careful of Deceit.

“Logan, where were you?” Virgil demanded, “We got Roman into the hospital room and realized you weren’t with us, and we thought you were just rushed to another room, then the lady tells us you weren’t allowed in! Where did you go?!”

“A kind girl helped me instead.” Logan replied, Patton finally releasing him from his hug, allowing Logan to immediately grab Deceit’s hand again and pull him close. “She’s, apparently, very talented in healing, and she fixed Lio right up..”

Deceit gave a grin when the others turned their attention towards him. They were very obviously uncomfortable in his presence, but Deceit genuinely couldn’t bring himself to care. Maybe it was the throbbing pain he was in, or the fact he was with Logan- he didn’t know. “I think you should be thanking me- I saved you all.”

“Dolion Sanders, don’t be a dick.” Logan muttered, squeezing Deceit’s hand to scold him. He would usually smack him, but he didn’t want to hurt him. He was in enough pain as it is.

“Dol-?” Patton scrunched up his face in confusion, before realization fell on his face. “Oh..”

“My name is Dolion.” Deceit confirmed, “And while I’d hate to stop this touching moment, I feel like I am about to collapse any second now, so-”

Logan was quick to move, carefully wrapping his arm around Deceit to hold him steady, “Should we go, Lio?”

Deceit, letting himself put some weight on Logan, nodded. “It would be appreciated, Loganberry.”

“Worst nicknames ever,” Virgil muttered under his breath, but he was ignored as Roman, now energized enough to return them to the real world, gathered the Sides (and Thomas) into a circle, taking them back to the living room.

Logan immediately settled Deceit onto the couch, sitting next to him and holding his hand on his lap. “You okay?”

“Yes, Starshine, I am.” Deceit chuckled, leaning into Logan.

Virgil cringed. “This is disgusting.”

“Shut up, it’s cute.” Patton scolded, gently smacking Virgil’s shoulder.

Thomas just shook his head, sighing.

His personality really was something.

[theonewiththefanfics]

A Pirate’s Soul (part 1)

Synopsis: Pirates of the Carribean/ The Avengers mashup! 

The Reader, a skilfull Avenger had gone on a mission with a few fellow members, one of them being Stephen Strange. The mission turns for the worst as the Reader gets trapped with a no way out, but instead of Doctor Strange opening up a portal for Y/N to escape to New York or even just the woods outside, she gets transported to the 18th century Caribbean sea, where she meets a group of people that will forever change her world. Especially a certain son of a pirate with the sweetest heart.

Pairing: Will Turner x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: swearing but that’s a given with me

Genre: idk anymore

Word count: 2151

The thing about being an Avenger is that you’ll meet very different and weird people throughout your life. The thing about fighting alongside them is that not everything goes as planned. Ever. Especially when one of the people is a sorcerer with the power to open up portals and bend time and space.    That is what happened while Y/N, Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes and Wanda Maximoff had gone out on a mission. What was supposed to be a simple in and out turned into a full-blown battle with not only Hydra agents, but enhanced aliens running around and shooting at them.    “Strange, I need you to open up a portal for me!” the girl shouted, comms filled with gunfire. “Like now! Right this second! I don’t wanna die today!”    “A bit busy over here!”    “Yeah, well the building is about to collapse and I have no way out!”    She punched a six-armed alien and whipping her knives around she slashed a deep gash over its chest, organs and green blood spilling out. There was nowhere to go. Y/N was down in the lowest basement level and she was being ambushed. The rumble of explosions up above shook the ground beneath her feet and the stone walls, making it her own little tomb.    Her Y/E/C eyes were wide with fear, the terror so huge she could barely hear Tony calling for Strange to do something, could barely decipher Bucky’s yells of anger and Wanda’s tearful sobs.    She closed her eyes as the ceiling above her shook more and more, the last three creatures ready to pounce. Before the cold blocks collapsed on top of the girl, the alien’s hands grabbed onto her shoulders, waist and thighs. But instead of feeling the wind knocked out of her by a wall, she fell… and fell through it, greeted by an echo-y thud off a wooden surface.

   In an instant her eyes were open, bright sunlight shocking her system as a beautiful salty breeze of the sea invaded her senses. There was no time to relish in the feeling as the monster was still on top of her chest, seemingly just as surprised to be in their new surroundings. Y/N took it as her cue and sliced off the arms that held her thighs, eliciting a shrieking scream from the thing. Her second blade struck in its shoulder of the one that held down her hip. Y/N wiggled around a bit, hooking her leg over its tail and flipping them over, so that the girl was now on top of it and with a hard thrust she pushed the blade through its neck, pinning it to the wooden floorboards underneath them and killing the thing.    Her combat suit was ripped open, basically leaving it in shreds. Her chest was heaving as her palms grabbed onto what seemed to be a timber railing. Y/N let her eyes adjust to the scene beforehand, and if she wasn’t as exhausted, the adrenaline wearing off leaving a leaden feeling in her legs, she’d almost believe what was in front of her.    A tallish man with dark dreadlocks, a red bandana, a triangular hat and God only knows how many trinkets tied into the strands stood before her. His brown eyes were lined with charcoal and a hand with a ring on every finger was holding a sword up to her. A tiny goatee with beads hanging off of it swished around in the wind, but what drew Y/N’s attention more was the young man standing beside him.    Clad in a white cotton tunic, the buttons open revealing a muscular chest, his chocolate eyes bore into Y/N’s Y/E/C ones. His shoulder length hair was half up pulled away from his face revealing sharp cheekbones and jawline.    “I’m dead aren’t I?” she asked to no one in particular, noting that there were more men on the ship, each looking scruffier than the previous, all of them weirdly enough dressed like they were from the 17th hundreds. “Or did you transport me to a fucking amusement park, Stephen?” she chuckled turning away from the men.    There was no reply.    “Stephen?” she tapped the little black device still securely tucked in the shell of her ear. Again nothing.    Y/N’s voice shook as her eyes soaked in the scene. “Tony?” Nothing but blue water, the emerald and turquoise hues glinting in the sunlight. No land. No Hydra or New York. Nothing but the open sea.    She spun around, panic settling in her stomach. The man with the dreadlocks looked over at the man with the tied up hair giving a glance of confusion as his sword lowered down.    “No,” Y/N choked out, “no, no, no, no.” Her palms met the wooden floor of what she now knew to be a ship. “This can’t be happening! Wanda!” Y/N’s scream echoed in the open air. “Bucky!”    At this point, her back was pressed against the side of the ship and a palm going to her throat. Y/N couldn’t properly breathe, her head was spinning from hyperventilating. Suddenly a hand was placed on her shoulder. She could feel the skin-to-skin contact, courtesy of a giant rip in her suit.    “Miss, I need you to breathe, okay?” it was the one wearing the white shirt. His voice was soothing, like the waves the ship was lulling on.    “Where,” Y/N heaved out, “where am I?”    The man who had his sword pointed at her before, answered the question. “The Caribbean sea, love. Right in the heart of it.”    Fine. She could work with a place. A place was good. But then came the question Y/N didn’t really know if she wanted to get an answer to. “When am I?”    Her Y/E/C met the white-tunic-mans. They were soft, consoling, she didn’t want to look away, but then again, neither did she want to hear what his lips had to say. “18th century.”    Y/N took a deep breath. 18th century. She was in the fucking 18th century. Man, had Stephen fucked up. Her attention was taken away from the man by a woman, she hadn’t previously noticed. The blonde was just about to touch the alien but Y/N was faster, jumping up and wrapping her arms around the petite girl, shielding her body with her own.    “Don’t touch it! Unless you want the whole ship to go up, I suggest you back away.” Her eyes were a lighter shade of brown, golden specks glinting in the sunlight, plump lips open in an unheard question.    Hydra had scientifically grown the alien species in test tubes and then genetically engineered them to explode after dying if someone or something touched the skin, to cause the maximum effect of destruction. Back in the base that had actually helped her out in the mission, at one point setting off a chain reaction and taking a whole block out. Now, given the fact that there wasn’t land anywhere on the horizon, Y/N couldn’t risk anything.    A tall and lanky man, one eye darting around, clearly made from wood scooted closer to the strange creature. “You touch it and it’ll explode. The ship will go down and so will everyone else,” Y/N warned him, hoping the rest would take it to heart too.    The girl was barely keeping it together, opting for command mode to stay sane. She needed something to do, so a plan had to be devised to safely dispose or at least relocate the carcass before another curious mind came a bit too close and boom! went the dynamite.    “Well, what do you suggest then? Leave it out in the open? Where it’ll rot and then a seagull will flock down, sit on it and make my Pearl drown that way?” The guy with the deadlocks had approached Y/N and the girl, the Avenger still sorta shielding the other woman’s body with her own.    Back while fighting with Hydra, the bodies had exploded because of harsh movements, like rubble hitting it, a stray bullet or a graze of a knife. In an instant the green blood started to turn orange and then red, the dead flesh heating up before exploding, the shrapnel of bones and the sheer force of kinetic energy bringing down stone walls. But what if nothing did touch it?    Y/N had magic in her veins, but she was untrained, nothing like Stephen. ’Damn, it Wanda, I need you,’ she thought to herself before looking at the gathered crowd. The girl was terrified of what ran through her blood more specifically because one time as a kid she had accidentally set a house on fire, just because of her emotions and ever since then she had locked that part of her mind.    “Stand back.”    The girl immediately detached herself form Y/N taking a few steps away.    “What?” it was dreadlocks.    “I said stand back. I don’t know what’s gonna happen so you might want to keep yourself at a safe distance.”    He levelled a gaze. “And what is a safe distance?”    Y/N had no answer to that. “Preferably somewhere off the boat, but since that ain’t possible- as far away as you can.”    The girl steadied her mind, slowly feeling her heart rate come back to the normal thud-thud-thud. ‘Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up’ was a mantra ringing through her head. Wanda and Stephen had had years of training whereas Y/N had none, so freeing that part of her mind was terrifying. To allow the power she didn’t know how to control ooze out of her every pore was the scariest thing that had ever happen to her.    The girl concentrated, letting the tendrils seep out and feel the air. It was a shock to her system. She could feel every molecule around her, the tiniest ripple under the sea, where a crab left an indent in the sand or a fish moved its muscles to propel itself forwards. Y/N could fell everything, and as much as she wanted to revel in this newfound world, she had to focus.    Air. She could use air. Something warm trickled down her nose, the sticky substance worming past her lips and down her chin. Y/N had no time to wipe away what she knew to be blood. She extended a hand towards the dead alien and mentally pushed the air underneath it up, trying to picture it as a solid material the body could be laying on. She imagined it lift above the floor and it did. Green blood was spilling out from the places where its limbs were missing as well as through the giant neck wound.    “A bit more, a bit higher, a bit further,” Y/N muttered underneath her breath as she moved her palm toward the open sea, the body floating in the air immediately following that direction.    Red droplets from her nose splattered against the wood. “Just a bit more.” A huge headache was forming, ripping her skull apart. “Just a tiny bit more.” It was over the railing, hovering above the sea, yet it was still too close, what had dreadlocks called it- Pearl? It was still too close to the Pearl.    From somewhere behind her a voice kept calling. It was saying for her to stop. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought. The only thing she could hear was her own blood pounding in her ears. Her hand shook with the force the girl was exerting.    “A tiny bit more,” it came out like a strangled breath before she released the alien, it’s body splatting down into the sea, exploding in a matter of three seconds.    Y/N’s lips pulled up in an exhausted smile. “There,” she heaved out, “done.”     And suddenly she lost balance. Y/N would’ve smashed her forehead against the black railing if it hadn’t been for two strong arms that caught her just in time.    His mouth moved, yet Y/N couldn’t hear the words. Lick-the-bed? What no, that couldn’t be right. The woman she had shielded from the alien’s body reappeared in Y/N’s vision. She was carrying a cloth, a damp one that she gently pressed against Y/N’s flushed skin. No, Elizabeth, not lick-a-bed. That was the girl’s name.    The woman’s mouth moved as well, Y/N’s hearing catching onto one single word before falling into the blissful darkness where nothing hurt.    “Will…”

Tags: @fandamad

A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m a mess :D

please tell me what you think :)

P.S. if you have any requests or wanna be tagged drop a message 

P.S.S. please don’t repost without credit

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: NMNL Sept 19

Just a tiny update, I got my issue resolved on TokyoCatch. Apparently there’s an issue where you need to make sure your shipping info is entirely filled out, as soon as I checked that and modified it, it was fixed!

Anyway, I only won the 1 item so far, so I’m trying to decide if I want to just include a pic of it in a future review, or gather several items and then do like a... partial-review on them and the game/website.

“We hope you had a fantastic summer! This month’s beauty box has a floral theme. We hope you’ll feel like a blossoming beauty with the adorable makeup and skin care products coming in September’s box!“

(is it me or is the info kind of lackluster this month?)

Contest

This month, the prize items are a collab between Pokemon and the brand It’s Demo. Besides a makeup palette, winners could also receive eyeliner, and lipstick.

Glam Gift

For this month, the official GG winner received some special, limited edition Sanrio products featuring My Melody and Little Twin Stars. The items range from cosmetics to accessories like a hand mirror and an adorable, My Melody doll brush (which looks so cute~).

In going with our floral theme, this months Horoscope is “Which Flower matches your Star Sign?“, and this is what it says:

Aries: Honeysuckle

Taurus: Poppy

Gemini: Lavender

Cancer: White Rose

Leo: Sunflower

Virgo: Buttercup

Libra: Rose

Scorpio: Geranium

Sagittarius: Carnation

Capricorn: Pansy

Aquarius: Orchid

Pisces: Water Lily

Which one did you guys get? :3 is it a flower you like? I was very happy to have gotten Rose, because those are my favorite flowers~

We also have a page describing some flower ingredients one should try using for various reasons. Make sure to try out some natural items featuring them if any of these apply to you:

Cherry Blossoms - the extract lightens hyperpigmentation and increases skin elasticity, soothes irritated skin, and protects it from damage and signs of aging.

Camellia - Camellia oil hydrates and smooths the skin, protecting it from damages and signs of aging.

Roses - Intensely hydrate the skin, so its recommended for “mature skin“. The extract also minimizes scars, stretch marks, and wrinkles.

Chamomile - High antioxidant and moisturizing properties, especially useful against things like acne or dry skin.

Marigold - also good for acne and skin irritations like eczema and rosacea. Prevents premature aging and skin damage.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Green Tea Nose Pack

Our first item is this simple little nose cleaning pack from Etude House. It is filled with green tea extract that helps tighten the pores, while the patch removes dead skin and blackheads. It’s very easy to use, all you do is make your nose wet (or the patch too) and then smooth it on your nose. After 10-15 minutes you remove it, then you use some cleanser or toner, or just water if you don’t have any.

I’m not going to lie, I was dreading this item <_< Anytime I’ve seen people use nose patches or skin patches that adhere/suction to the skin, it HURTS to pull off. I’m a big wuss so I was innocent assuming this would be the same thing. Plus I don’t like green tea, and I was worried it wouldn’t even work.

BOY WAS I WRONG!

Not only does it smell amazing (it was like a... light floralish scent, but weirdly enough the pack smells like green tea), but it didn’t hurt to take off at all, and it actually helped! My nose is blackhead free and feels very smooth, I love it! My nose has felt so smooth and soft since~

I plan on buying a handful more for when I need them off of Tokyo Haul, the store website for the makers of the subscription box (they only cost about $1). I would seriously recommend these if you have a “strawberry nose” of your own.

Fleurissant Lip Glow & Rosy Lips

For this month we get 2 lovely and fun Lip products; first up is the Fleurissant Lip Glow by Glamfox. These are pretty much those really pretty jelly lipsticks/gloss with a flower in them, and they have the ability to change in shade depending on how much you apply or your current body temperature to give you natural, but noticeable color and shimmer.

In the box there was 6 possible flowers and a couple different box designs. According to my tube, I got GL04 Rose Flower.

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Our next item is this adorable little rose tinted lip cream by The YEON. I was really excited to get this because I’ve seen them before on Youtube (usually for slime making) and I thought it looked cute. The color I got was S102 Rose Petal, but there are 3 colors in total we could have gotten.  

(The darker product is the rose btw)

As you can see, the jelly flower product is fairly sheer but very shimmery. As I said above, you can apply it a little more -or allow your temperature to handle it- and it will darken over time. I already own a couple of these and I really like them because it gives your lips a really subtle change and kind of gives them a “healthier“ glow.

Usually these are scented (my original one smells like peach) but this one... it has a scent, but it isn’t fruity, so I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be. I still like it though, these jelly lip products are usually always good and this isn’t an exception, I’d recommend it if you never tried one before.

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Meanwhile, the rose is way more vibrant. As you can see in the pic, it looks red, but on the skin it’s more of a... magenta, red raspberry hue. It also has a very faint rose scent.

It’s a creamy and smooth feeling product, it doesn’t feel oily or heavy on the lips. I don’t like vibrant or dark colors on my lips because I feel like they don’t look good on me, but I did like this color, and in certain conditions (maybe spring or summer?) I feel like it could look nice. Right now I think it just highlights how pale I am.

Both of them are really nice, and it wasn’t really hard to remove them for items meant to tint the skin. My only concern is that where I used the product on my hand and wiped it off... the skin is red and blotchy looking now. So I don’t know if I had some kind of reaction (but my lips are fine) or if the skin is really dried from how much I was rubbing it.

Spring Eyelash Curler

I’ve been needing a new eyelash curler but nothing I’ve tried to replace my original pair (a hot pink one) with has come close to feeling comfortable for me, so I kept using them. I know in most cases you could say they’re all the same, but to me it didn’t feel that way. These are by the brand NOYL, and as you can see in the package there is a replacement curling piece for one the first one gets too old and hard to clean. 

I know I’ve said this before, but my most favorite color is pastel/pale/baby/light pink. So seeing these in the box gave me a really good feeling, even the little clasp on them is translucent pink~

I really like these, they feel a lot like my old pair and even without any product they managed to curl my lashes so that they looked more neat, controlled. They’re not loose feeling, and the handles are curved to contour the fingers, so it feels comfortable to hold too.

Therapy Air Mask & 10 Second Morning Sheets

Our next Etude House product is a therapy air mask, a facial mask that is extremely thin and loose to fit any face shape. These are available in 4 different scents/types: Cherry Blossom (firming and brightening), Camellia (lifting and skin radiance), Damask Rose (fresh moisture), and White Flowers (moisturizing and brightening). These are also hypoallergenic, so they’re good if you have sensitivity to certain ingredients.

This smells amazingly good, the scent is a fairly light cherry blossom/sakura with a perfumey note. I really like it, I have to find something with the same scent so that I can keep it forever.

In terms of a facial mask, I’d say this was a really good one. It was super-wet and a bit sticky, and because of how thin it was it was kind of a pain to open and put on- but it was really nice once applied. My face had a wonderful cooling effect from it (especially my lip when it accidentally got some product on it). My face also feels really nice after using it.

I might have to pick up a couple of these from Japan Haul too~

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This item is by Joteki and it is called a 10-second sheet because it saves you several “morning routine“ steps, as they are made to clean, cleanse, and moisturize your skin. Besides letting you take your morning get-ready session easier, it would also come in handy if you’re going on a trip or if you want to keep it in your purse or car because you can leave out other items, such as creams, cleansers, moisturizes.

There are 2 different sets in the box, the one I got specifically says its for oily skin. I’m not sure what the other one is, maybe dry? You get about a months worth, and they come in a really fun, colorful re-sealable package.  

I have a dry skin problem so I always worry that oily skin products will dry my skin <3< but so far I haven’t had that problem. These have a scent but I can’t exactly pin-point what it is, because it doesn’t smell fruity, herbal, or flowery. Weirdly enough, the scent reminds me of liquid medicine, like the kind you might take for bad cough or to help you sleep? I like it though, whatever it is.

Anyway, I ended up trying one of these out the other morning after a shower and my face felt really nice and smooth~ I did wash my face prior to using it, so I tried again the next morning with nothing on my face and got the same result. I’m not sure if physically anything changed, but my skin feels a lot nicer.

Mascara & Mascara Top Coat

You know, I didn’t realize there was such a thing as a mascara top coat. At least I don’t believe so... apparently its just used to help seal the applied mascara to keep it on your eyelashes longer, or you can use it on its own to give your lashes a natural cute look without the mascara.

Meanwhile, this specific mascara came in a few varieties; volume, length, and point (for outer lashes). Mine says I got the volume type. It has a faint un-identifyable scent, but the top coat is a lot stronger and the smell reminds me of paint, kinda.

I’m not sure how I feel about the mascara. It has a very curvy spooly/wand and I’m not used to that. But generally it did its job and they’re darker then what they were and more... spread out and spidery. I don’t hate it but my eye feels sticky when I blink or shut it, which has never been a problem before with other mascaras. I also poked myself in the eye trying to remove the reside beneath it when I tried wiping it off, which btw did NOT come off...

Meanwhile, the top coat is really nice. It helps to keep the natural color while adding some shine and the “effect” of applied mascara, but the lashes aren’t stiff, spidery, or sticky. I would recommend this on its own or with mascara, I could see it being useful for those who aren’t familiar with mascara (or are too young for it) too.

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 4.5 out of 5. I liked everything with the exception of the mascara. But not because of its quality or anything, just because it frustrated me >3< everything is really nice and felt good when I used it, I’d recommend each one. Everything was in perfect condition, most of the items are re-usable and cute.

Theme: 5 out of 5. Obviously this gives me a spring vibe, not an Autumn/Fall one, which kind of bothers me. But at the same time it makes it more interesting so I don’t frown upon that. I love flowers and a lot of natural products use them, and this box was definitely giving me flowery vibes.

Total Rank: 10 out of 10. Like August’s box this one only focused on the face, which isn’t bad because most beauty products and cosmetics are for the face- but at the same time it’s a little typical/boring. I prefer when we get mixed items (like face, nails, feet, skin, hair, etc) or a mixed theme (like one month its hair-based, one month face, one month skin). I especially wish we got more hair products because I really liked getting those from the older boxes. But the box has the cute factor I craved and the items are really fun and good quality!

♥ Cutie Scale ♥

Nose Pack - I did not expect to love this as much as I did. But it smelled great and it worked pain-free :D seriously, get this one!

Face Mask - It smells so good! I wish we got a couple of them~

Morning Sheets - If you use a lot of products in the morning I would recommend buying one of these and trying it out instead. My face has been feeling really nice since I’ve been using them these past few days

Eyelash Curler - I can get rid of my old one for sure now I think. I love it.

Mascara Top Coat - I feel like this is something you shouldn’t be smelling, but besides that I like it. I usually prefer mascara that I can visibly see, but on its own I think it’s really sweet and it definitely gave the eye softness. 

Rosy Lips - It feels nice on my lips but I don’t see myself wearing this very often. Quality wise its there, but the color doesn’t look right on me.

Lip Glow - It’s very pretty and I love the packaging, but I already have one of these I like a lot more because its cute and smells yummy.

Mascara - I’ve had better, and I prefer a straight wand.