#but on to new pastures I guess. once I figure out what they are

[apostaterevolutionary]

Wholly agree Duolingo isn't great any more but it's the only fully free site so it's all I can use...:(

I totally get it anon, it’s a tough situation. For what it’s worth, I believe most of memrise is free, so it might be worth taking a look to see if it has your language. And I mentioned this in the post, but your local library may give you free access to other apps. Tumblr library propaganda has taught me many things about what libraries offer!

And even though I’ve been mad at duo for a lot longer (since they rolled out that stupid path, even though I managed to dodge it for over a year by not updating my app, they did eventually force it onto my ancient and crumbling version lmao), I kept up with it for a long time just because I couldn’t find an alternative I liked. And tbh I’m still not sure what I’m gonna do now, cause it turns out I like casually learning languages, it’s fun and I don’t want to stop, I’d love to get at least conversational in several, but I’m not exactly sure where I’ll go from here yet

Even disregarding the ethical issues, I do worry about the future for duo learners because machine translation simply cannot compete with the real thing. I think anyone trying to read something from another language knows from experience lmao. But I think it will be a while before the app really dies, because the idea of learning for free is a good one. It’s just sad the ceo sold his soul and made duo publicly traded, because it’s been going downhill since (completely changing courses when you’re halfway through, the path, the loss of the forums, the removal of notes, the loss of typing practice, and now severe staff cuts for a cheaper but inferior option)

It sucks ass but it is what it is and I won’t necessarily judge anyone for sticking with it if it’s your only option. I also saw some statements from people who worked on the original duo courses as volunteers upset about these developments, but also distraught that all this work and effort and love they put into the courses would be for nothing if duo eventually does shut down. The courses were originally made by people, for free too, and most of their work is still there, I can’t blame them for being upset at their love letters to the world getting twisted but also not wanting their work to disappear forever because everyone quit. There’s no winning for them at this stage

Idk this is way more rambling than was necessary lmao, but anyway let’s summarize by saying I feel you, it sucks, but I also understand if people keep using the free version duo because, and especially depending on the language you’re working on, sometimes there really aren’t feasible alternatives

[cowgurrrl]

I REALLY need some Joel fluff where reader says to him “I have loved you with all of my soul”

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT OVERBOARD SO HOPEFULLY ITS OKAY

Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: hey remember when I said I was either gonna not write or write too much guess what happened

Summary: You and Joel finally get married [4.3k!!!!]

Warnings: wedding stress, quick quick mentions of smoking tobacco and marijuana, emotions, Hank Miller being the only southern boomer I care about, fluff :-)

When you were growing up and imagining your wedding day, you never saw yourself getting married in Texas. But once you're in the throes of wedding planning, you very quickly realize you don't want to get married in California. Too many people. Too much of a chance of the paparazzi crashing the wedding. Too close to home. Joel talks about the idea of getting married in your home town which you veto immediately. He starts listing every location significant to you two, New York, Ireland, Spain, and even Australia, but none of them feel right. At one point, you even think about suggesting you just go to the courthouse and file the paperwork, but you know Joel's family would be heartbroken if you didn't have a "real" wedding. 

Filming has taken over a majority of your life, as it often does. Joel is in the process of creating his own record label with a studio to match. Ellie is looking at colleges and trying to figure out her next steps, while Sarah is already planning her move to Sacramento to pursue a job and her Master's degree. It feels like there will never be a right time for your wedding. One night, when you're on hour three of being hunched over your computer, looking at fucking floral arrangements, Joel comes up behind you and kneads relaxing circles into your neck with big hands. You sigh and lean back into him, pressing your head into his belly.

"I thought this was gonna be more fun." You mumble, and he laughs as he leans down to kiss the spot under your ear. 

"And I thought I told you to hire a wedding planner." He says. 

"I don't want a wedding planner. I just want a wedding." 

"Well, honey," you can hear him trying to hold in his laughter at your stubborn pouting. To his credit, he pulls it together. "We can find a way to make that happen, but for now, why don't you take a break? You can tell me all your wedding ideas while I pack our bags for Texas." He says, his thumbs adding a little more pressure to your sore muscles, and you melt into him. He could've asked you for the moon right then, and you would've said yes. 

"Only if you promise to tell me your ideas, too." 

"Deal." He says as he shuts your laptop and scoops you out of your chair. You spend the rest of the night debating cake flavors, groomsmen and bridesmaids, and where you want to go on your honeymoon. It's technically still wedding planning but all the light-hearted parts of wedding planning. You're grateful for the distraction. 

Two days later, you, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and the girls get on a flight back to Austin. Hank and Lucia are overdue for a visit anyways, and you figured getting out of California might help to clear your heads for a while. However, the boys immediately flee the scene when you arrive at the Miller Ranch. You and Lucia share a confused look as Hank leads them down a steep hill, pointing at a pasture and talking about something you can't hear, but decide to take it as an opportunity for girl time. 

You, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie spend the night drinking margaritas and exchanging stories. It's nice to giggle and talk with them like you're little girls again. In a way, they make you feel like you get a second chance at girlhood, and for that, you will always be grateful. Once it gets close to dinner time, the Miller men shuffle their way back inside the house, kick off their muddy boots, walk over to their partners, and kiss them sweetly. 

As one big blended family, you make dinner together. Lucia delegates tasks while Hank and the girls steal pieces of chicken when nobody's looking. Joel pretends to need something from the fridge to slide past you and smack your ass as he does. Lucia catches him, hits his arm, and yells at him in Spanish about being nice to you. "Mamá!" Joel tries to defend himself, but you just give him a look and leave him to be lectured at by his mother. Once dinner is ready, you all sit at the long table in the dining room and continue to laugh, talk, and be a family. Maria asks questions about wedding planning while Lucia (lovingly) interrogates Ellie and Sarah about their love lives. 

"Are you dating anyone, mija?" Lucia asks, gesturing to Sarah. Sarah shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and you know, even if she lied, her grandmother would see right through it.

"I actually met someone," she says. "His name is Ethan. He's a firefighter, and we met when someone pulled the fire alarm on campus." 

"He's really nice, Mamá," Joel jumps in before Lucia can continue her questions, raising his eyebrows at her. "We really like him." He looks at you like he's trying to show you how supportive he's being of Sarah's relationship even though it took him multiple meetings and several talks with both of you to approve of his daughter's choices. 

"Sarah, you didn't even tell her the best part." You poke, and Sarah sighs, already anticipating Lucia's reaction and making you smirk as you eat. 

"There's a best part?" Lucia asks. "Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Ethan speaks Spanish," Sarah says. Lucia got so excited you would've thought the second coming of Christ was happening in her living room. She immediately starts talking about coming to LA to meet him and his family or even flying them out to Austin to see the ranch. You can't help but smile as you watch them conspire together. 

Once everyone is full, the boys take the dirty plates to the kitchen to wash them while you and the other women put away the leftovers and clean the table. Joel waits until the dining room is back together before stealing you away from the chaos and bringing you outside. The sun setting over the Texas hill country takes your breath away as he walks you halfway between the house and the stables, with just enough acreage to not see too much of either. You can't believe how quiet it is out here. Once you get far enough out, Tommy and Hank come into view with little posts in the ground. 

"What's this?" You ask Joel as you get closer, and he smiles. He takes his hand in yours and stops walking to look at you. 

"I've been thinkin’, and I wanted to see what you thought about gettin’ married here." He says. 

"On the ranch?"

"Look, we've already mapped it all out," he says, leaving your side to walk to one of the posts. "This could be the dance floor, and over here," he walks a few feet to another post. "This could be where the tables get set up," he gestures before walking back over to you and pointing to a big white oak tree a couple hundred feet away. "And we could have the ceremony under that tree. Dad and Tommy already said they would help me put up some of those fairy lights you like so much. We could make it really nice." He says, and you glance between him and Hank and Tommy.

"Is this what you guys did all afternoon?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Hank says, and you smile. You look out at the painted sky with the wildflowers swaying in the breeze, and from this far out, you can see the comforting glow of light from the house. You can also spot a lazy Longhorn grazing in the pasture about half a mile away, completely unaware of the world around him. It's beautiful. And private. And so perfectly encompasses what you both want for the wedding. 

"You don't have to make a decision right now. I know it's a lot, but I thought it'd be fun." Joel says. You wrap your arms around his neck and step into him, smiling when his hands find your waist. 

"Let's do it." You say, and he lights up.

"Wait, really?"

"I never thought I'd say it, but yeah. Let's get married in Texas." The words are barely out of your mouth before he picks you up off the ground and spins you around giddily. He kisses you to seal the deal, and Tommy and Hank cheer from their spots. 

After that, wedding planning really ramps up. You set an official date. You make Carolina your Maid of Honor, and Ryan agrees to stand in as your officiant after Lucia determines he's "just Catholic enough." Elizabeth gets the responsibility of ring bearer since she's a little older, while Victoria is the flower girl. You quickly add Sarah, Ellie, and Maria to your wedding party after assuring Ellie that she can wear whatever she wants. Joel makes Tommy his Best Man and asks his band to be his groomsmen. Even though Wayne is the only other guy in the band, they all say yes and don't even blink at the idea of having to fly to Texas. 

The next few months are a blur of flower orders, cake tastings, schedule workarounds, and more. Carolina, Lucia, Maria, Sarah, and Ellie go dress shopping with you. You were initially just going to send some ideas to your stylist for her to make you a dress, but they were all vehemently against that idea. It takes a couple different stores and a handful of different dresses, but you finally find a sleek silk dress with a lace bodice that makes everyone, including you, cry when you stand in the mirror. Your bridesmaids find their outfits in no time, and Carolina gets cute little dresses for the girls. 

You only invite the really important people and a photographer. You only tell a few people outside the guests and the wedding party when and where you're getting married. It's none of their business. This is just for your family. No outsiders. You don't even hire a DJ. Tommy just agrees to bring a big speaker, and you sit down to make a playlist with Joel about a month before the wedding.

Your crew of people descend upon Austin the week of your wedding, ready to work together to turn the Miller Ranch into a dream location. Thankfully, Hank and Lucia have gathered their own community of people and already have half the work done by the time you come up the long dirt driveway. Ryan helps Hank, Tommy, and his buddies hang lights in the tree. Carolina and Sarah help Lucia, and her friends put together centerpieces. Joel's band and Ellie set up tables and the dance floor. Whenever you or Joel try to help or lend a hand, someone ends up shooing you away and telling you to relax. They only listen to either of you when you're giving direction on how you want things to go. 

You keep the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties to a minimum, only going out to a few bars far from Sixth Street and spending most of the time getting drunk in the guest house turned Bridal Suite. You're pretty sure Hank gave Joel and the groomsmen cigars, which is fine as long as they don't find out you gave the bridesmaids weed. It's nice to not have to worry about nosy people or cameras ruining the days leading up to your wedding. The quiet, giggly privacy is all you want. It also helps to clear your head when writing your vows.

From the beginning, you and Joel decided you wanted to write your own vows instead of using the archaic, pre-written ones. You just didn't know then how hard it would be to find the right things to say. You ask Carolina, Lucia, and Maria for advice, but they just tell you the same cheesy line of "writing from your heart." While it's incredibly sweet, it's not exactly helpful. The night before the wedding, Sarah and Ellie sneak into your room for one last sleepover before you marry Joel, and you ask them for help. You read them what you've already written and catch them both wiping tears as you recite it. They give you logical advice and stay up with you to rewrite your vows until they're perfect. You fall asleep with them tucked under your arms like babies despite them being twenty-two and eighteen. 

In the morning, everyone piles into your room with plates of breakfast and mimosas from the main house. You're not allowed to leave the guest house because they think if you see Joel before the ceremony, it'll be bad luck. You're not sure you believe that, but you'll take the excuse to get other people to run things to and from the house. Ellie plays music from her speaker as everyone picks a corner to do their hair and makeup in, and you spend the first half of the day getting ready and spending time with the most important women in your life. They help you into your dress once the photographer arrives to take pre-wedding photos of you guys, but everyone is a crying mess once you're all dressed up with the dress, veil, and everything. 

Many, many sweet words and hugs are exchanged, and the photographer catches all of them. Sarah and Ellie surprise you with new earrings from Joel and a beautiful necklace they picked out for the wedding. Sarah helps you put on the earrings while Ellie clasps the necklace around your neck. You give the girls rings that match the one you've been hiding in plain sight on your right ring finger for weeks now. "For as much as I'm promising to love your dad today, I'm also promising to love you guys with everything I am for as long as I am," you say, tears springing in your eyes as you hand the delicate rings to them. They're crying, too, but they're holding it together a little bit better than you are. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. And I hope I never forget just how lucky I am to have two of the most extraordinary women in the world in my life." After all these years, it feels like you're finally becoming the family you always knew you were. 

The rest of the day goes by way too fast. One minute you're hugging Sarah and Ellie, and the next, your arm is tucked under Hank's as your bridesmaids and goddaughters slowly walk down the aisle. Your heart is beating fast against your rib cage, and you feel like you can't breathe, but you know once you see Joel, you'll feel completely at peace. You go from fiddling with your bouquet to your engagement ring to even readjusting Hank's tie as Alex plays an instrumental version of your favorite ABBA song. 

"Honey, look at me," Hank says gently. You meet his green eyes, and he smiles as he puts a hand over yours and squeezes. "Take a breath," he says. He demonstrates with an exaggerated inhale in case you forgot and you copy him. Together, you take three big breaths, and once the last of the Texas air leaves your lungs, Hank squeezes your hand again. "Now, I know I really shouldn't be sayin' this since that's my boy up there, but if you've gone and changed your mind, I'll bring my truck round the corner and drive you wherever you needa go." You laugh at his words and shake your head. 

"I kinda love him, so I think I'll be okay, but thank you." You try to brush it off, but your anxiety still lingers. Hank nods and bumps you with his shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I was scared shitless the day I married Lucia." He whispers like it's a secret, and you look at him.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirms. "We were so goddamn young and thought we were so grown up. I remember seein' her walkin' down the aisle and just thinkin' bout how I was gonna support her and give her the life she deserved. I didn't know if I was man enough to do it. I almost started cryin' just cause of that."

"What changed?" You ask, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His hair moves with the wind, and for a second, you get a glimpse of what Joel could look like at his age. And it doesn't scare you.

"She smiled at me, and I was done for. I knew if I didn't marry her, I was gonna be kickin' myself for the rest of my life," he finds the back of Lucia's head as Tommy and Carolina pass her, and he smiles. "Still the best decision I ever made." You take a deep breath and realize the line of wedding party is getting shorter and shorter as each pair is dispatched down the aisle. Your heart is still beating fast, but you feel less sick and more excited about getting to see Joel after not seeing him all day. You squeeze Hank's hand again before sliding it under his arm and resting your head on his shoulder. 

"Ready, baby girl?" He asks as he kisses your head, and you nod. With Hank's strong arm leading the way, you start walking down the aisle and immediately lock eyes with Joel. He starts crying, which makes you start crying so much you have to blink several times to see how handsome he looks in his suit. Hank kisses your cheek as you reach the aisle's end before hugging Joel and handing you off to him. You turn around, give Carolina your bouquet, and take Joel's hands.

"You look so beautiful," Joel whispers, and you sniffle.

"Thank you," you whisper back. "You look pretty handsome yourself." 

"Gucci," he mouths, gesturing to his suit, and you nod your approval. It's silly enough to break the emotional tension as Ryan starts speaking, even though you're not really listening. He says something to appease Lucia's Catholic roots before talking about how important and beautiful marriage is, but you can't stop staring at Joel. It's only when Ryan says your name and the word 'vows' do you snap back to reality. Carolina quickly supplies you with the scribbled-on paper and a tissue because nobody knows you as well as she does, and you squeeze Joel's hand.

"Joel, it seems hard to remember a time when we weren't together and even harder to remember what my life was like before I met you. I did and accomplished so many important things, but nothing seemed as important or special once you and the girls came into my life. You three became my entire world, and for that alone, I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for that gift," you say. "When I was trying to write my vows, I honestly didn't know where to start. Instead of struggling by myself, I asked the two people who've been there since the beginning of our relationship: Sarah and Ellie. After giving me lots of advice and all but forcing me to add something about loving you even though you snore," you and Joel laugh.

"Sarah told me it might be a good idea to write about the very first time I realized I loved you, but when I started thinking about it, I realized I couldn't pinpoint one specific day or time. There was never a moment of clarity or realization when it came to you. Loving you came easily and naturally, like breathing, and once I realized it, I knew there was no going back. You were and still are the person I want to spend my life with. Our story is not traditional or necessarily one for the history books, and I think you'd agree with me," your voice catches in your throat, and Joel's thumb brushes against your knuckles softly. 

"We've had setbacks and hard times. Everything from moving across the world to trying to remember who loaded the dishwasher last but through everything, you were my home. My safe place. My reason to keep going. And if historians in a hundred years pay us any attention, I hope they write about how protected you made me feel. I hope they talk about how we found ways to laugh together even when it felt hard. I hope they spend hours and hours lecturing about how much I loved you because I do. I have loved you with all my soul for as long as I can remember, and I will keep loving you like that until long after I forget the exact details of our first date. Thank you for choosing me." You sniffle, fold your paper back up, and wipe under your eyes with Carolina's tissue. Various sniffles and tears rake over your guests and wedding party as Tommy hands Joel his vows with wet eyes. 

"When I first moved to LA with Sarah, I didn't know what was gonna happen. I didn't know I'd have another daughter, my band, or meet the love of my life. The day we met, I remember thinkin' I'd never known anybody as witty or smart as you, and I still think that. But now, after so many years, I know you're more than that. You're brave, kind, talented, hard-working, and way out of my league," he says, and you laugh. "The first time I remember realizin' just what an amazing person you are was when I told you about Sarah and Ellie. Other people would be freaked out or even upset if they found out the person they'd been datin' had kids. You weren't. You asked questions about them and were selfless with your time so I could be with the girls when they needed a little extra love and care. And when you met them, you treated them like you'd known them your whole life. You treated them like you're own," he squeezes your hand a little hard like he's trying to find the strength to continue. "That's when I knew I was gonna marry you,"

"I trusted you then with the two people closest to my heart and it's safe to say you'll always be the one I trust with the girls. You'll always be the one I trust to get me out of bed on time. You'll always be the one I trust to help me make fashion choices. You'll always be the one I trust to be patient with me and get coffee when we need to recharge because you're my person. I love you, and I'll love you when I'm old and wrinkly and can't hear for shit. And you'll know all my stories, and I'll know all your movies by heart, and we'll laugh for years and years. I can't wait to start forever with you." He almost wipes his eyes with his vows, and you quickly switch his hands, making him laugh.

I love you, he mouths.

I love you, too, you mouth back.

Everyone, including Ryan, takes a second to sit in their emotions before taking a deep breath and coming back together. He calls Elizabeth forward, and you exchange rings. Joel stands up a little straighter the second the gold band is placed on his left hand, and you smile. Ryan clears his throat, eyes shining as he stares at you two and opens his mouth.

"By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" He announces. Your few guests cheer loudly as Joel cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. Wildflower petals scatter around you, and the sun is setting behind the altar, but nothing matters as much as your husband does now. He kisses you a few more times before finally pulling away and joining the cheering. You walk back up the aisle, now married, and everyone follows after you.

The reception after is perfect with all your favorite foods and desserts, including Lucia's Texas Trash Pie, which makes your mouth water just looking at it. People hug you and Joel and offer congratulations and even a few sweet tears at the ceremony. Carolina and Tommy deliver amazing, hilarious speeches honoring both of you, and then it's finally time to dance. You and Joel chose "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and Harry James for your first dance, and under the fairy lights and setting Texas sun, you realize just how perfect a choice it was. 

You bury your head in his neck and sway slowly with him, basking in the tenderness of being so close to him. He sings along quietly and kisses the shell of your ear as you dance. Towards the end, you spot Ellie and Sarah standing beside the dance floor and wave them to you behind Joel's back. They hesitate for a second before running to join you. Joel tucks each girl under his arm and kisses their foreheads. The four of you make for an awkward little slow dance, but you're all giggling and smiling despite it. 

As the song ends, Joel escorts the three of you off the dance floor before grabbing Lucia for the mother-son dance. Lucia is so short compared to Joel that it's almost impossible not to smile. Still, he's slow and careful with her, and his eyes sparkle as they converse secretly. You catch Hank watching them through teary eyes nearby, and a secret plan hatches in your brain. Quickly, you rush over to where your phone is connected to the speaker and queue up an acoustic version of “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner. When Lucia and Joel's song ends, you grab Hank's hand and pull him onto the floor as the song starts playing. 

"Now, what are you doin'?" He asks as you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You never got to have a father-daughter dance. I figured you should get at least one." You explain. Tears fill his eyes almost instantly, and you smile when he holds you close. 

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "For everythin'." 

"I should be thanking you and Lucia. You raised my husband."

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and spending time with your favorite people. You’re not exactly sure how long you were out there celebrating but you do know that your feet were sore and your brain utterly fried from the long, emotional day. Joel carries you to bed bridal style and carefully lays you down, doing his best not to rip your dress as he helps you slip your shoes off. Together, you undo your hair, take off your makeup, take off and hang up your dress, and change into one of Joel’s shirt before crawling into bed.

“Tired?” Joel asks as he starts shedding his wedding clothes too and you nod into the pillow.

“Sorry for not, like, wanting to consummate our marriage right now.” You say, and he laughs. It’s that delirious, breathless laughter where you’re not sure if the joke was actually that funny or if the reaction to it is. You laugh too and watch his nose scrunch up and his body shake with joy. He steps out of his slacks, presses a knee into the mattress to lean over you, and kisses you sweetly.

“Don’t worry bout that,” he mumbles against you. “We’ve got our whole lives.”

Once he’s finished changing, he crawls into bed and pulls you close to rub your back. You can feel his wedding band getting caught in the fabric but you don’t say anything. You fall asleep in his arms, full of love, Texas Trash Pie, and giddy excitement at what the future holds. How could you not when you get to spend it with him?

[kidheart]

Duckvember2022 #9: Rural

Two years ago a friend requested I write a scene where the ducks see a cow for the first time. It was nice getting to revisit the scene for today's sketch.

Suddenly Nosedive sat up as we were continuing down the road and seemed to focus on his view a bit, “What in the world?”

Then he exclaimed, “Whoa Wing, watch out!”

Wildwing, seeing what was ahead in the middle of the road slammed his foot on the break. As the vehicle came to a screeching halt just a few feet away from whatever it was Wildwing looked over his shoulder, “Sorry guys!”

“We're cool,” Grin assured as he looked out the windshield curiously, “What is that though?”

“I don't know?” Wildwing replied just as puzzled looking out, “Some kind of animal I guess?”

Looking out at the road we found a four legged, hooved, creature of some sort chewing on some grass just before our vehicle. Upon it's head were a pair of short horns and it's fur was a caramel brown. Hearing us get out it sort turned it's head towards us, but continued to chew it's meal.

“What is this thing” Nosedive scratched his head.

“Not sure, it's not in Phil's book that I can find,” Tanya flipped through it to reconfirm.

Wildwing turned to me curiously, “Do you know what it is Heart?”

I rubbed the back of my neck before shaking my head, “Sorry Wing, I've never seen anything like that that I can recall.”

“Hmm,” Duke placed a hand to his chin while observing the animal a few moments.

“Why is it just standing in the road?” Mallory asked a bit perplexed, “You'd think it would run or something by now?”

Grin stepped over to it, causing it to slightly look up at him with it's docile eyes. Reaching a hand out he found he was able to pet the horned, furred animal, “It's quite trusting.”

“Can you get it to move Grin?” Wildwing asked still a bit perplexed on what it was we were looking at.

Looking around we found large green pastures nearby and a broken up fence.

“I guess whatever it is got loose?” Mallory pondered.

“More like went for a walk if you ask me,” Nosedive chuckled while patting it's side now.

I decided to sketch it out in my book while we figured out what to do. For me times like this were like relearning things I'd probably forgotten. Though a smile curved my lips that I couldn't help when I saw them learning something with me for once.

After a few minutes of discussion we jumped a bit to hear someone yell from one of the nearby fields, “Hey there! What are you doing to my Betsy?!”

“Betsy?” Wildwing asked while looking back and forth between the disgruntled human and the four legged beast.

“Is that what it is?” Nosedive questioned trying to piece things together.

I jotted down the name with a question mark beside it as the human came marching up. However upon seeing us his eyes widened, “What in the world?!”

“I take it he doesn't watch hockey?” Tanya shrugged.

“Sorry sir, but we're not doing anything to your...uh...Betsy?” Wildwing attempted with a wave towards the calm Grin petting it still.

“We were trying to figure out what it was,” I mentioned to receive a dumbfounded look from the much older human.

He was dressed in jeans with a plaid shirt. On his sun tanned face was a thick gray beard that seemed to be lightening at the sight of my teammates, “Is this some kind of prank? A bunch of teenagers in costumes busting up my fence and luring out one of my cows?”

“Oh, that must be what it is!” Tanya exclaimed looking over at it, “Betsy just didn't sound right.”

“An' no we didn't break your fence buddy,” Duke chimed in, “This is how we found it.”

“Don't you try to fool me. Those masks won't hide anything, and having her act dumb won't either!” He pointed at me still crouched down sketching, causing me to freeze from slight discomfort.

Duke took a calm breath and stepped in front of me to stop him from still pointing at me, “She's not dumb, nor is she actin' it. We found your cow out in the road an' were tryin' to get it back behind the fence.”

“We're new to this area, and we haven't seen a lot of land like this,” Grin offered in a firm, but still pleasant tone.

“You've never seen a farm before?” The man raised a brow in disbelief.

“We haven't. We're from Anaheim, so we're more used to the city than the countryside,” Wildwing explained a bit further.

“So what's with the masks?”

“They're not, we're just ducks!” Nosedive said while pulling on Wildwing's cheek to emphasize that his beak wouldn't come off, nor would his feathers.

The man's eyes were as wide as saucers to see this. Then he looked to me puzzled, “So then what's her excuse?”

I saw Duke wanted to say something, but I tugged on his hand and gave him a nod to show it was okay.

Biting my lip a moment I then took a breath of my own and stood up answering, “I suffered from amnesia a few months ago. So I'm sort of relearning some things.”

Duke wrapped an arm around me in support as the man stepped back almost looking apologetic now. I gave a slight shrug to show I was fine.

“We were heading up to explore a bit while on break, but before we go maybe we can help you out?” Wildwing offered.

“How so?” The human asked.

“We could fix your fence,” Wildwing suggested, “So your cows don't wander off again?”

“You would help me just like that?” He questioned suspiciously.

“Why not?” Nosedive shrugged.

“First let's get Betsy out of the road before she wanders further,” Grin advised still petting her.

The human, who we learned was a farmer, gave a nod, “Sounds like a good idea.”

“Before we do, can I just ask something?” Nosedive chimed in with full curiosity.

“What's that?” The farmer raised a brow.

Nosedive pointed to the lower part of the cow, a large pinkish bit of flesh with nubs hanging from it, “What is that?”

“It's the udder? You know, where the milk comes from?” The farmer replied a bit perplexed to be answering these things for what he could see were teens to adults.

“That's what milk comes from?!” He exclaimed, “How?!”

The farmer blinked in awe at us now and shook his head. Then he gave a bit of a chuckle and gestured for us to follow him along with Betsy. So he then went and got a rope while we guarded the cow from moving further into the road and in harm's way. When he returned Grin helped guide Betsy back to the green pasture's she'd tried to somewhat escaped. From there he had us follow to a large wooden building he called a barn where we found a few more cows.

“What's your name by the way?” Wildwing inquired.

“Name's Bates,” he replied while picking up a nearby stool and a pail.

We then watched as he demonstrated how to apparently milk a cow. Nosedive, Tanya, and Grin were fascinated, Wildwing and Duke shrugged, and Mallory seemed a bit perturbed by it. I was simply curious and watched from between Nosedive and Wildwing.

“See?” Bates showed us the full pail of milk, “And once I prep it it'll be ready to drink.”

“You can't just drink it outright?” Tanya asked.

“You can, but you run the risk of ingesting bacteria that might need to be removed,” he explained.

“What a fascinating creature,” Grin commented.

After getting back up from the stool and giving the cow a pat on the side he turned to us and asked, “So you're serious about fixing that old fence for me?”

Wildwing gave a nod, “Of course, we said we would.”

“We don't want your critters getting lost or hurt,” Nosedive added.

It was about a midday at this point and growing quite warm, so a lot of us removed any jackets we'd been wearing to begin working on the fence. Grin remained with Betsy and the other cows, contently observing them, and making sure they didn't wander to where we were again.

Meanwhile Wildwing and Nosedive accompanied the farmer to his shed to get some lumber. Tanya and Mallory helped Duke and I fix up the posts that we could still use to reattach the fence. When my brothers returned with the lumber we got to work nailing it in place. Duke and Wildwing held things in place while we hammered them in to the posts. The whole time the farmer watched us a bit in bewilderment. Then while looking at the pieces bordering the new placement I asked, “Do you have paint sir?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“May I use it please?” I asked.

“What for?”

Looking over at the previously broken part I noticed a few trees that had blended with the darker wood and mentioned, “I think at night it's hard to see the fence and that's how this might have happened? It might not protect it entirely, but the paint might help reflect the fence when headlights shine on it?”

At this Duke, who was still in long sleeves through all of this, had turned his head to look at what I was trying to point out. To our surprise the farmer then obliged by bringing a large can of white paint and a wide brush for me to use. While the others made sure the rest of the fence was secure I got to work painting. At one moment while doing so Duke gave a chuckle and I realized I had managed to get paint on my arm while pondering if it was finished, holding the brush close to my shoulder with my arms folded over my chest.

“That should do it,” Wildwing said when I gave a thumbs up and put the brush back into the paint can.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” the farmer admitted while looking it over.

Duke handed me a damp cloth to clean off the paint that I now realized had managed to find more than just my arm. When I was free of paint I noticed the farmer bringing us a tray of what he said was freshly pasteurized milk for us to try. After a few exchanged varied expressions of curiosity, discomfort, or optimism we each took our glass.

“Wow that's weird,” Nosedive laughed after downing his.

“You've had milk before Dive,” Wildwing pointed out.

“Yeah, but not straight from the source where I know where it comes from!” Nosedive pointed out.

“I like it,” I mentioned.

“It's different,” Mallory shrugged after drinking half of hers before politely trying to finish it.

“I owe you...ducks...?...an apology,” the farmer then offered to my genuine surprise, “It seems you've even taught me a thing or two.”

“Not a problem sir, we were happy to help,” Wildwing replied as we headed back to the Migrator.

“Take care of yourselves!” The farmer told us with a pleasant wave.

Grin gave Betsy one last pat on the back before walking over to us. Then we piled into the large vehicle and continued on down the road.

“So how did we end up fixing a fence?” Nosedive asked our brother.

Wildwing gave a shrug, “I'd rather humans learn as we do too, and that seemed to be what needed to be done for that to happen.”

“I guess, but we're going to get there a bit late now won't we?” Mallory asked.

“We'll still have a day or two to try and enjoy,” Wildwing assured.

“You're not worried for once big bro?”

“I'm trying,” Wildwing chuckled.

[hedgehog-moss]

Let me preface this by saying that mother llamas are supposed to be able to delay birthing for at least a day if the weather conditions aren’t ideal. Last week was mild and sunny. The day after the baby was born was mild and sunny. And this was the day Pampérigouste decided was ideal:

I know, I know, it was her first and she didn't really know what was happening. Neither did I, at first, but I became worried as the morning went on and Pampe was still in her pasture. She hadn't tried to escape once and I wasn't sure how to handle this situation. I started following her around, hoping she wasn't planning on having a child today because it was pouring with icy rain and just, Pampe, no.

She looked distracted and melancholy and had zero patience for baby Pyrgus. Around 1pm I saw her pawing at the ground, like horses do when they feel colicky. I resigned myself to the fact that she had indeed decided to give birth in the icy rain, and went to get some straw and a shovel to prepare the shelter—Pirlouit had been in there all morning so there was a bit of dung.

Speaking of—I mentioned yesterday that llamas like to poop in the same place, on a communal dung pile; when I returned to Pampe, she had positioned herself above the dung pile, having decided she probably just needed to poop. I pushed her away to a cleaner spot like no, sweetheart, come on, use your brain. Have you NO instinct at all?

I went to lock Pandolf in the barn so he wouldn't bother her, and brought back more straw for the shelter, then saw that Pampe had chosen a new spot to give birth: literally the steepest slope in her pasture. She was going to drop her baby there and watch it tumble down the slope all the way to the torrent. I sighed and pushed her to a better spot once again.

Walking around seemed to hasten the process a bit, and when she resumed her birthing position (standing up, legs open) there were tiny little hooves poking out. I crouched down a few metres away and watched, with the rain getting worse and colder by the minute. By the time the baby's head and legs were out, Pampe was very bored and wanted to give up. She came to join me and started nosing at my coat, plucking little bits of straw.

I thought the baby couldn't be comfortable with its head hanging out like that, so I went and helped a bit, gently pulling on its feet, and Pampe started pushing again, and I pulled a bit more every time she pushed and then it was over in a few minutes. Since mother llamas give birth standing up, the last part looks pretty brutal, with the poor baby's first experience of the outside world consisting (from its point of view) in being unceremoniously dropped from a first-story window.

By then Pampe had definitely lost interest and she started to graze. I'd read somewhere that this was normal, that she would figure out what had just happened when the baby got up and started nursing. I wiped some bits of amniotic sac off the baby's nose and mouth and made sure it was breathing, then moved away and waited to see if it would try to get up. It did not. It looked confused and absolutely miserable and the rain had started to turn into snow.

I had planned on waiting until it could walk then lead Pampe to the shelter with the baby following along, but it looked so cold and shivery I ended up taking this little slimy thing in my arms and carrying it to the shelter, with Pampe following curiously. She didn't look offended about the kidnapping, just "not sure what this thing is, I guess I'll stay with you and find out."

Baby's first blep! I started rubbing her baby giraffe dry while Pampe delivered the placenta—she accidentally stepped on it immediately afterwards. She watched the amniotic fluid pool around her feet with baffled disgust, then stared at me like what is this. Why would you bring my baby to this unhygienic place.

I went to fetch my shovel again, and some clean straw, and some hay; the hay then attracted more llamas. Pirlouit was trying to fight them for his share of the hay and was annoying Pampe, so I evicted him from the shelter and penned him (right next to us so he wouldn't feel excluded.) (I always feel like I'm trying to kill a Sim when I trap my donkey by building a small pen around him)

Baby finally tried to get up! I was starting to worry that it still hadn't suckled. I went to get Pandolf (who wants to feel included too) and by the time I returned baby was up and nursing energetically :)

Pyrgus looked so intrigued! And I think quite happy to meet another llama child like him.

In the evening Pampe tried to leave the shelter several times (despite Pirlouit still being penned and her having it all to herself) and I carried her baby back in every time, stubbornly, because I really wanted this poor spindly thing to spend its first night on a bed of dry straw and not out in the elements. It was snowing hard by then and my clothes had been soaking wet all day and I desperately wanted to be home drying up in front of a fire—and I bet your baby felt the same! why must you always make things difficult for everyone Pampe.

^ Me complaining about Pampérigouste being an obstinate and contrary camelid as always. But when it got dark she finally relented and accepted to lie down next to her baby in the shelter, and they were still in there in the early morning when I checked on them.

Here's Baby the next morning, all dry and warm and having an 11am nap after nursing <3

It's a girl :) and a heavy sleeper...!

Epilogue: Pampe is now a very attentive mother and talks to her daughter constantly (with gentle llama hums). Pirlouit has been freed and has inspected every centimetre of his shelter suspiciously (the llamas hardly ever use it, Pirlouit definitely considers it his, and must have wondered why Pampe decided to rent it for one night.) Baby doesn't have a name yet, I'm working on it... She looks like she is wearing a turtleneck onesie and a cute little cap at the back of her head.

I hope this wasn't too boring! Welcome to the world little girl <3

[peri-hellion]

Due to work stress I’ve been falling back on comfort media, so please have this Jeeves & Wooster Star Trek AU that, I cannot emphasize enough, literally no one asked for.

-

We Woosters are almost exclusively terrestrial beings, despite the rallying round to the other galaxies in the last few centuries. Unlike Gussie Fink-Nottle, who had been raring for the greener (and more reptilian) pastures of space since childhood, I was content to stay on Earth. I rather fancied myself like that one chap who was bound in that one thing and considered himself the king of that other thing. Jeeves would know who I’m talking about.

However, there’s nothing like Aunt Agatha on a warpath to make one boldly go anywhere that she isn’t.

Salvation, in this case, came in the imposing form of Honoria Glossop, who had graduated from bossing around a young B. Wooster to bossing around some very important bit of the United Earth Government. She looked, as always, as if she had successfully won a hand-to-hand match against a Klingon before breakfast, so I guessed that the old U.E.G. was falling in line better than I ever had.

“Well, we can’t actually hire you,” she said, scrolling through a padd industriously, “but I can appoint you as a special Terran diplomat to somewhere unimportant in Federation space. As long as we make it clear that you’re not being paid, no one will look at your credentials too closely.”  

Normally this kind of rampant nepotism (NB: is that the word I want? Ask Jeeves later) would go against the Code of the Woosters, which has undergone some much needed revision over the ages but still advocated for honest dealings. Still, Aunt Agatha was bearing down on me with the fury of a woman deprived of both matrimonial plans and a fairly expensive ceramic cow-creamer, so desperate times called for desperate space stations.

After some additional scrolling and frowning, Horatia finally found a suitably backwater station called Deep Space Nine that was welcoming a Starfleet contingent only next week.

“I say,” I said. “Nothing too bad happened to the first eight, I hope?”

Honoria sighed with set-upon indignity and said “really, Bertie,” but didn’t actually answer my question; instead, she explained that this particular novenary d. s. was ideal for my aunt-hiding needs. “It’s basically in the middle of nowhere. Even you couldn’t screw it up.”

This seemed a bit harsh, coming from a gal whose engagement to Madeline Bassett I once needed to salvage with the help of a Bolian theatre troupe and five dozen chickens, but I nobly held my tongue.

And the first few days on DS9 were exactly that; I ankled about the dusty circular bit and gave a occasional heave-ho to some of the more manageable debris in a show of camaraderie. There was a bar, to my delight, and I holed up there for a goodish period, buying rounds for the new residents and learning some new gambling games. I took notes to share with the Drones upon my return to Earth, and lost enough money to endear me to most of the bar’s regulars. The bar proprietor, a singular fellow named Quark, had never hard of gin rummy before, so I gave ample demonstration. All of the regulars were only too happy to go on about the current intergalactic politics; I didn’t totally understand all of it, but I gamely wrote things down and send comms to Honoria. It seemed like there really wasn’t much to this whole diplomacy thing; I imagined returning to Earth in a wave of intergalactic success to the astonishment of the Drones and Aunt Agatha and everyone else who considered me a bit mentally negligible.

“What,” I’d say rakishly, in the style of one of my favorite holovids, “like it’s hard?”

All of my plans for relaxing in an aunt-free corner of space and noodling around spreading good cheer towards Terrans was complicated a few days later when a wormhole appeared next to the station with all the suddenness of Claude and Eustace crashing into my flat at some unholy hour. All of the Starfleet types ran around looking intent for a while, but it seemed like the wormhole, like Claude and Eustace, would be staying put longer than expected.

This, I gathered in the days to come, rather changed our posish about being in the middle of nowhere.

There was a hubbub with the United Earth Government,  but at that point reassigning someone else as ambassador would be a little like closing the barn door after the wormhole had bolted, so B. Wooster was stuck with the task.  The good news was that Aunt Agatha still hadn’t figured out where I was; the bad news was that now Honoria and several other important-sounding U.E.G. officials were raining down comms messages. They all seemed inordinately fond of capital letters.

I first caught on that this whole diplomatic wheeze was now more important than Honoria had let on when Jeeves suddenly arrived.

[ghoste-catte]

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

[tippedbykreider]

something just like this | c. parayko

Word count: 14.6k Warnings: Mention of infertility Author’s Note: Colt and Cass are back! There’s been about 1.3k of stuff added to this but everything has remained pretty much the same :) Song title is from ‘Something Just Like This’ by The Chainsmokers Summary: Colton Parayko is no stranger to living life on the road and being away from home, but when a new neighbour moves in to the property next door, Colton comes to learn that perhaps home isn’t a place after all.

Colton Parayko would consider himself to be a lucky man. He had a dream job, he was living in a city that felt like home despite being thousands of miles away from his actual home. He drove a nice car, had a nice house in a good area and his neighbours were some of the kindest people he’d ever had the pleasure of encountering. Sure, there were days where he could kill a man for a Tim Horton’s but had to settle for a Starbucks instead, and those days made a pang of homesickness rear its head in his chest, but they were few and far between and if his biggest gripe was a lack of Tim Horton’s coffee in St Louis, then Colton thought he was doing pretty damn well if he was to say so himself.

He’d been in the city for the better part of five years now and had really found a place where he felt like he could put down roots, or at least for as long as his career would allow. When he’d first moved to the city he’d found himself an apartment right in the heart of Downtown, and while it was exciting and there was never a dull moment, it never really felt like somewhere Colton could see himself long term. He liked to party just like anyone else, but he was happiest when relaxing in his own space with a puzzle or a good book. To some this might seem boring or like he was old before his time but with a life as full on as Colton’s could be, it was a nice change of pace to kick back, relax and unwind. That’s what led him to the house he’d called home for the last couple of years. It was modestly sized but bright and airy and a perfect base for him during the season. The neighbourhood was quiet and filled with a lot of young families and it had that real sense of community that reminded Colton of his hometown back in Canada. He didn’t have to think twice about leaving his number with Laura and Joe or Tom and Martina on either side of him in case of an emergency and he knew that his bins would be taken care of if garbage day fell during one of his stretches on the road.

Things had been the same since he’d moved in and in some ways it seemed like time had stood still in that little corner of St Louis but rather than feeling humdrum and dull, Colton felt like it gave him a safe harbour to come back to during the crazy storm of the hockey season. No matter whatever else was happening in his life, Colton could always rely on the community spirit of his neighbourhood to make him feel like he was at home. But sooner or later, the tides of change sweep in and life as we know it is rearranged, sometimes in small ways, other times beyond all recognition. It started on a Tuesday morning in late-February; it was a rare day off and Colton was locking the front door to his house before heading out on his morning run when he noticed the for-sale sign in the front yard of the house to the right of his. He had no reason for the odd feeling that had sprouted in his stomach and had begun to settle heavily there, but there it was all the same.

He set off down the street at a leisurely jog, casting his mind back to the last conversation he’d had with Tom or Martina to try and remember if they’d mentioned anything to him about them potentially moving elsewhere but he was certain that they hadn’t. He would have remembered something like that, he would. He wasn’t exactly sure why seeing the sign had jarred him so much in the first place because while he was friendly with Tom and Martina and while he had always made sure to buy their son a small gift every Christmas and birthday since moving there, it wasn’t like he would consider himself to be their best friend or anything like that. But even so, Colton always enjoyed hearing Sam play outside on warmer days and he knew that he would miss his raucous laughter, it had reminded him so often of his own niece’s back in St Albert. Perhaps that’s what all this was about, Colton thought, the nostalgia and the sense of normalcy and that feeling of home, but even he understood that all things succumb to the rolling tides of change and that people move on to pastures new. All he could hope was that the new owners were just as nice and friendly as the soon-to-be old ones were.

 It was early April when Colton spotted the removals van parked out on the street and within 48 hours he found himself waving off the Parkers along with the rest of the cul-de-sac. He wondered then who the new owners were, what they were like, whether they had children and hoped beyond hope that they would be willing to help keep an eye on his place while he was either away on the road or back in Alberta. He didn’t give it much more thought after that; the Blues were about to start their playoff campaign and Colton’s mind was firmly fixed on hockey. It was only when he returned home from a two day trip to Minnesota that he noticed a silver Mercedes coupe on the driveway next-door. The neighbourly instinct in him told him to go and introduce himself, but it was getting late and all Colton could think about was getting inside, taking a hot shower and dragging his tired body into bed.

An early practice meant that any semblance of a lie-in was out of the question. He’d decided to forgo breakfast at home in favour of an extra fifteen minutes wrapped up in the warmth of his duvet, figuring that he’d find some time to eat at the rink instead. By 8am he was slipping on his sneakers and heading out the door, a small duffel slung over one shoulder with a travel mug of coffee in his hand and his keys in the other. He was so focused on getting the front door closed and locked without having his bag slip from its precarious perch and spilling his coffee that he didn’t notice his new neighbour going through a similar routine of their own. She had a tan leather satchel balanced on her shoulder and her tote handbag was hooked over the same arm and dangling obnoxiously enough that it was severely impeding her ability to get the front door closed. Colton had just turned to get into his car when he saw her and his eyes immediately went to the comically large travel mug that was being held at an almost dangerous angle while she tried to move the bags out of the path between the door and the frame.

It was a no-brainer for Colton to set his own travel mug down on the roof of his car and cross the distance between the two houses, pocketing his car keys as he went. He couldn’t help the small smile that sparked across his face as her voice came into focus with every step he took.

“Με δουλεύεις? Δεν έχω χρόνο για αυτό! Σκατά στον τάφο σου…”

His brows knitted together in confusion despite the gentle smirk on his lips, stifling a laugh as he approached the porch steps while his new neighbour sighed in pure exasperation, completely unaware of his presence behind her.

“Σάλτα και γαμήσου.”

Colton leaned forward and took the mug, which was now tilted almost horizontally from her efforts, from her hand. She turned her head quickly, a look of surprise on her features that Colton returned with a friendly grin.

“You looked like you were having a bit of trouble there.”

She closed her eyes and offered a small laugh on the exhale of a single breath, the corners of her lips quirking ever so slightly into a hint of a smile.

“Sorry about that,” she said apologetically. “The plan wasn’t to cause a ruckus in the street this morning.”

Colton laughed and offered his hand to take the bags from her which she accepted gratefully, turning and shutting the front door before turning the key in the lock with a sense of finality.

“Sounded like you were really sticking it to that door.” He handed back her bags and waited until she’d pressed the button on her car keys to unlock it before giving her back the mug of coffee, taking in the navy blue pencil skirt suit and the powder blue silk blouse she wore. “You gonna be okay from here?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as she tossed her bags onto the passenger seat and surveyed him with a thankful expression. “Sorry for the theatrics, I just get a little flustered when I think I’m running late, especially on my first day at a new job.”

“Completely understandable,” Colton agreed while nodding sagely. “I’m Colton, by the way.”

“Cassandra,” she replied, offering her hand which he shook. “I’m guessing you live around here?”

“Yep,” Colton pointed to his house, not a stone’s throw away from hers. “Literally just there.”

Cassandra smiled at him, bright and dazzling and a million miles away from the frustrated little grimace she’d had on her face only a few minutes before, as if the incident with the door was already a distant memory.

“Well, it was lucky you came along when you did. Two bags, one of them heavy and a mug full of coffee? Could’ve been messy,” she smirked behind her travel mug as she took a sip, surveying him with chocolate eyes that were keen and warm all at once. “That’ll teach me, huh?”

“Glad to help. Although maybe leave the octopus impression to actual octopuses. Or is octopi? I never know which,” Colton mused, adjusting the strap of his duffel on his shoulder.

“I believe octopuses is the correct plural, grammatically speaking, although I’m not sure they mind either way,” Cassandra contemplated with a bemused smile on her lips before a brief silence fell between them as they surveyed each other with easiness and a gentle intrigue.

She was beautiful, Colton thought, and nothing like any woman he’d ever seen before with her olive skin and hair as dark as her eyes and there was a kind of fire in her belly, of that Colton was sure because in his twenty seven years of life he’d never seen anybody berate an inanimate object with the kind of gusto that she just had, even if he didn’t understand a word of it. He thought it was an odd contrast to the perfect, pristine suit that she was wearing and he found himself wondering just what it was that she did for a living. That thought quickly brought his mind back to the present, remembering that the real world was calling and that they both indeed had to get to their respective jobs, and he made a mental note to ask her about it when they both had a little more time on their hands.

“Well, I uh, I actually gotta shoot for work too but it was really nice meeting you,” Colton announced with what Cassandra interpreted as slight reluctance which she found both intriguing and endearing in equal measure. “And good luck for your first day at work, I hope it goes well for ya.”

“Yeah, you too and uh, thanks again.”

Colton flashed her a toothy grin, one that gave him a boyish kind of charm despite his imposing size, as he replied, warm and genuine, “Anytime.”

Cassandra watched with intrigue as Colton retreated back to his driveway and got into his SUV, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t sure what exactly the rest of her day would have in store for her, but as she saw the little wave Colton gave her through the window as he pulled away, she could feel a lightness start to spread in her chest and knew without a shadow of a doubt that the small act of kindness from her new neighbour had salvaged her morning.

 It was four days later when Cassandra saw her neighbour again, an unusually warm Friday afternoon to be exact. It was his car in the driveway that she noticed first on account that it had been missing for the last two days and while she knew nothing of the man that had rescued her Monday other than the fact that his name was Colton, she couldn’t help the involuntary smile that had settled on her lips as she turned into the quiet cul-de-sac and saw the dark grey SUV she’d recognised from the other morning. She wondered just exactly when he’d come home, remembering her earlier observation that it was still missing as she reversed off her own driveway a shade past 8am that morning. It was 2:30pm now and all Cassandra could think about was getting out of her tailored dress and court shoes and into something much more comfortable.

She shut the engine off and climbed out of her car, grabbing her purse as she went; she’d come back for her satchel later. She immediately slipped off her shoes, not caring that she hadn’t even made the short distance up the driveway to the house, and tucked them carefully under her arm while she fished in her purse for her keys. She didn’t notice the tall blonde from next door emerge from his house, nor did she notice the bemused smile he wore while he watched her root around her too-large purse for her house keys and she definitely didn’t notice him set down the bucket of water and sponge he had in his hands before starting to cross the short distance between their houses.

“You need some help there?” he called out with a grin, causing her to jump and drop the shoes under her arm and the purse in her hand with a clatter.

“Ιησούς Χριστός!” She turned then, the slightly startled expression on her face melting into a warm smile and a soft laugh as she took in the large man in front of her, playfully prodding his solid chest as payback for the little fright he’d given her before moving to bend down and pick her belongings up off the floor. Colton was quicker though and before she had a chance to really register what was going on, Colton was handing her back the oversized purse, the black court shoes still in his other hand.

“Now, I’m gonna hazard a guess here and say that those aren’t your size,” she added with a devious little smirk, nodding towards his hand and laughing. Colton took a couple of beats to catch up to what she was saying as his eyes drifted from the easy grin she had on her face to the shoes before his face turned an interesting shade of pink and his free hand moved to rub the back of his neck.

“I just, um, I figured I’d keep a hold of them while you looked for your keys,” he offered.

“Very thoughtful of you. I swear I’m not usually this disorganised,” she said while she resumed her search inside of her purse. “It’s the Friday brain.”

“Rough week?”

“I’ve questioned my life choices exactly seven times this week and considered becoming a stripper but then I remembered that I couldn’t dance and my parents would be extremely disappoin- Aha!” She pulled the keys from out of her purse and put them into the lock. Colton was instantly hit with the sweet smell of summer flowers mixed with a scent that he couldn’t quite place the second her front door swung open but it somehow seemed to fit her, despite him still not really knowing her all that well. He wanted to though, because while she was intriguing and piqued Colton’s interest in all manner of ways, she was also incredibly warm, the kind of warmth that would draw even the most adventurous wayfarer to hearth and home. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was about her that gave her this gentle presence, maybe it was her eyes and how they seemed to hold a kind of sincerity that he couldn’t help but be enchanted by. Perhaps that was the reason why he was still standing holding her shoes in his hand even after she’d crossed the threshold into her home, despite him every intention of using the rare sliver of free time he had to do something productive like wash his car.

She’d finished hanging up her purse and was now back in front of him, surveying him with an easy smile while her hands reached out to gently take the shoes from his hand.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink or something? I bought a new espresso machine the other day and it’s the perfect weather to make iced coffee, although other beverages are also available if you’d prefer something else.”

“Oh I don’t wanna interrupt-“

“You’re not,” Cassandra assured. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to, believe me.”

There was a lightness in her tone that matched her smile and Colton found himself nodding in agreement, the bucket and sponge sat on his porch steps forgotten as he followed her inside and closed the door behind him. Her home had a warmness to it, much like the one Cassandra radiated herself, and Colton couldn’t help but be impressed at just how put together and lived in the space looked, despite it not even being two weeks since he was sure she’d moved in.

“Wow,” he said as he followed her deeper into the house. “You wouldn’t think you’d just moved in here, it took me weeks to unpack.”

Cassandra smiled as she grabbed two glasses from the cupboard while Colton settled himself against the kitchen island.

“I don’t have a lot of stuff really. This place is easily two or three times the size of my old apartment back in New York so once the furniture was in there wasn’t really an awful lot left to unpack. I did go to Pottery Barn on like, my second day here, which I’m not sure I’ll ever financially recover from but those chunky merino wool blankets are like crack to me.”

Colton laughed as he allowed his eyes to go to the blankets in question that were arranged over the back of a cosy looking cream fabric corner sofa. There were scatter cushions that somehow managed to look both homey and perfectly placed and while the whole room screamed French farmhouse vibes that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Pinterest, it never lost the inviting and hospitable charm that hit him as soon as he stepped foot inside. He took in the rest of the décor while Cassandra busied herself with their iced coffee, pushing away from the island to get a closer look at the many photographs arranged on the side tables and walls.

His attention was caught by a particularly large framed picture on the wall above a console table, eyes immediately drawn to the large group of smiling faces staring back at him. There must have been at least forty people in this photograph, he noted, all standing in front of a white villa with shutters that were the colour of the bright sky above them. He found Cassandra easily, her smile even more dazzling than the sun was that day. She was stood between a man and a woman whom Colton could only assume to be her parents. She had the same golden olive skin as her father, he thought, and her eyes bore a remarkable similarity to his in the way they crinkled slightly at the corners when she smiled but her smile itself and the rest of her features? They were all her mother’s and Colton caught himself smiling softly as he traced his gaze over each happy face in the photograph.

“Is this your family?”

Cassandra poked her head around the wall to see what Colton was referring to, laughing softly at the sight of him looking at the picture with a mild sense of wonder resting on his face before going back to finish making their drinks.

“Yeah,” she called from the kitchen.

“That’s a, that’s a real big family you got there.”

“Well,” she started, the amusement and teasing clear in her voice. “I am Greek and if you’ve ever seen that movie with John Corbett and Nia Vardalos you’ll understand exactly what it’s like.”

Colton fired a grin at her as he shook his head gently, “can’t say that I have.”

“I wish I could say that they exaggerated what it’s really like for the purposes of the movie but they really, really didn’t,” she laughed over the sound of the espresso machine. “Although I am glad that the swearing the other morning didn’t tip you off, I was trying to stay incognito so I didn’t have to spend my life listening to people talk to me about how good the gyros are here. The ones you guys sell here? Not traditional Greek gyros and frankly I’m insulted.”

She reappeared with two glasses in her hand, sidling up next to Colton with a brush of her shoulder against his bicep as she nudged into him with a playfulness that he couldn’t help but chuckle at, thanking her as he took one of the glasses from her hands.

“I mean, I thought you looked Mediterranean but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure on what language you were yelling at your door in.”

“Sometimes when I’m frustrated I open my mouth and my baba comes out,” Cassandra shrugged casually from behind her glass as she took a sip. “Those genes run pretty strong. They’re a passionate people, the Greeks.”

“So were you born in Greece and then moved here when you were young, or?” Colton asked, following Cassandra as she moved to the patio door and out onto the deck before settling down in the chair next to her.

“Oh no, I’m a born and raised New Yorker,” Cassandra clarified as she set her glass down on the side table between them.

“Really? I’ve been to New York a few times with work and you don’t have much of an accent, if you don’t mind me saying. I uh I don’t mean it rudely it’s just, there’s usually a distinctive accent there.”

“Ah, they beat accents out of you in Law school,” she grinned as she surveyed him. “It’s not professional sounding apparently. Although it’s probably for the best, if I sounded anything like my mother I’d never be taken seriously in my field.”

Colton nodded, becoming more intrigued by the woman sitting beside him by the second. “So your parents came here from Greece,” he hadn’t meant for it to sound so much like a question but he was eager to hear more.

“My dad did, my mom was actually born in New York but my grandparents emigrated here from Italy so you can just imagine my mom’s accent,” she punctuated her answer with a laugh before continuing. “My Nonna is from Naples and my Nonno was born in Bologna. They met and got married in Italy and then emigrated here when they were in their early twenties, it was all very romantic. Nonno passed away a couple of years ago and Nonna took it pretty hard but she has my mom and aunts and uncles around to take care of her.”

“So your mom’s family-“

“Also massive,” Cassandra laughed. “I say that I came to St Louis for work but really it was for the peace and quiet.”

Colton chuckled with her at that, unable to even imagine the size of her combined family. He wondered if they’d ever all been together in the same room during Cassandra’s lifetime and whether it was as chaotic as he thought it might have been based on Cassandra’s words.

“So family gatherings must be pretty wild, huh?”

“Thankfully most of my dad’s family are all in Greece. My paternal grandparents are really old now so they don’t venture very far, let alone this far but my dad’s siblings have been to visit a couple of times and it’s always, um, interesting when mom’s family visit my parents while dad’s relatives are staying there and when I say ‘interesting’ I mean ‘loud’,” she grinned. “Everyone forgets regular social conventions like waiting for the other person to finish speaking before starting to speak themselves and the concept of an indoor voice.”

Colton let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a cough as he stopped the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken from reappearing out of his nose, Cassandra laughing along with him before she offered him an apology and a smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you inhale your drink there.”

“No,no, it’s okay,” he assured. “It was a good mental image, almost curious to see what that’s like.”

“Well, if you ever feel like subjecting yourself to a headache and my family is in town I’ll let you know,” Cassandra winked as a gentle laugh floated past her lips.

“I appreciate it,” Colton grinned in reply, although he couldn’t help the heat rising in his cheeks at the thought, which was an unusual response in itself, he thought, given that the woman sitting beside him was still really an acquaintance. He paused briefly as the light moment they’d shared settled between them, filling the space with a quietness that was by no means uncomfortable despite it being light-years away from their laughter not moments prior. There was a distinct curiosity there, a desire to know her in the way that friends know each other and it was a curiosity that Colton couldn’t trace the source of. She was his neighbour, yes and neighbours often knew a surface level of information about each other and their lives in a kind of shallow and superficial kind of way, and she’d been kind enough to invite him in for coffee, which was probably about as neighbourly as you could get but there was something else about their interactions that felt like more than being just neighbourly. There was a lightness to them, a playfulness that he couldn’t recall experiencing with any of his other neighbours and that curiosity, that need to keep talking to her and listen to her life story, her likes, her dislikes and everything in between, but he also didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and so he opted to ask her about something safe, something she’d already offered to him in passing.

“You said you went to Law school? I know you probably get this all the time but you must be pretty smart.”

“Yeah, uh, NYU. Graduated a few years back, took the bar examination and then got a job at a decent firm in Manhattan. It’s just so competitive there, y’know? It felt like I couldn’t ever really get ahead no matter how hard I busted my ass because of just how cutthroat that whole scene is and I was sick to death of feeling like I had to prove myself in an old boy’s club just because I was a female in my mid-twenties with a foreign sounding surname so I thought I’d broaden my horizons a little bit. I looked up some reputable firms across the country, sent a few speculative letters and here I am.”

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like, having to jump over hurdles like that just because you’re a woman with a mixed heritage, like I guess I’ve always been aware of how my privilege has meant I’ve never really had to deal with stuff like that but I just can’t even… You’re one tough cookie, you know that?” Colton turned in his seat so that he was facing her better, his glass cradled within his hands.

“I guess you kind of have to be when you work in law, especially as a woman. I spend most of my days around guys who look for opportunities to turn any situation into a dick measuring competition and who look at you like you’re some incompetent newbie who’s only in that position to fulfil some sort of equality and diversity quota bullshit,” Cassandra sighed heavily, meeting Colton’s eyes as she continued. “Real talk? It feels like I lead a double life every single day. I go to work and it feels like I have to put on a persona just to prove that I belong at the table and that shit is fucking exhausting. That person I am when I’m at work? That’s not the real me but people will see that person and make judgments about her, y’know? They’ll say that I’m ‘difficult’ or that I’m ‘cold’ or ‘standoffish’ when in reality they create an environment that is so toxic for women that they force them to be someone they’re not just to get by.”

Cassandra inhaled deeply, filling her lungs back up with air after her mini-tirade had come out on a whoosh of a breath. She was wearing an almost sheepish look as she surveyed Colton, an apologetic smile gracing her lips before she spoke again.

“Sorry for the rant that you literally didn’t ask for or need.”

“Hey,” Colton replied sincerely. “You don’t need to apologise. Honestly? I’m just in awe that you’ve not let the bullshit stop you, most people would have thrown in the towel and peaced out.”

“It’s definitely better now that I’m not working in New York, like, I know it’s still very early days but all my colleagues are really nice and the few attorneys from other firms I’ve dealt with have all been really respectful. I don’t know, it just feels different here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my city, I love New York but I don’t miss the toxicity of working in practice there.”

“Was it hard? Leaving your family and stuff? I mean, it sounds like you’re all pretty close,” Colton asked.

“So hard,” Cassandra nodded solemnly. “Mom and dad were devastated. Their only daughter moving nearly a thousand miles away? God, I remember their faces when I told them. Mom cried, fuck, I didn’t think she was ever gonna stop.” She paused briefly and Colton felt her sigh settle all through his body as her dark eyes found his. “I don’t know how much you know about Greek and Italian culture but family is everything.”

“I don’t but I kind of know what it’s like,” he spoke softly, hoping that she would pick up on the reassurance he was trying to offer her. “Picking up and starting all over again? Leaving your family behind? I know what that’s like and sometimes, when the summer rolls around and my work is done for the year, I almost don’t wanna go back home because it’s hard. It’s hard to see all the things you’ve missed and it’s hard to leave it all behind again but I wouldn’t ever change that feeling because it’s good to know that you have something you miss that much.”

Cassandra took a few moments to let Colton’s words settle in her chest before asking quietly, “where is home?”

“Canada.”

“Wow, so you’re even further away from home than I am. God, I’m sorry. I invite you in for coffee and pleasant conversation and I turn this into a ‘woe is me’ pity party for myself.”

Cassandra looked down into her glass and Colton felt an unfamiliar pull in his chest. It was as if a cloud had passed in front of the sun and the light had dimmed and everything suddenly felt that little bit colder. He wasn’t sure why he all at once felt compelled to open himself up to her, usually being one for his own company and never extending the hand of close friendship to any of his neighbours before, but there was something about Cassandra and the way that she already felt like a ray of sunshine in his life. If there was a way for him to chase the clouds away, even for just a little while, Colton was going to make sure of it.

“Hey, Cassie?” he started, quickly correcting himself. “Um, can I call you Cassie?”

Cassie looked up from her glass to find him looking at her with a newfound softness and she was struck by how much he reminded her of her ancestral home with the rich, warm sand of his hair and the ocean harboured within his eyes. She smiled then and much like a passing cloud, the sun seemed to come back out with that small quirk of her lips.

“You can.”

Colton set his glass down on the table then and folded his hands together, looking at her with a gentleness that was reflected in his voice as he spoke. “I know I’m not always around. My job it- it takes me away quite a bit but I want you to know that you don’t have to feel like you’re alone here. I know how rough it can be starting over in a new city and if I can help or if you ever wanna just talk or hang out, I’m here for you. You can even have my number, if you want, y’know in case you wanna talk or anything while I’m out of town and I just, I want you to remember that it’s okay to feel homesick sometimes.”

Cassie nodded at that because more than his words and the candour with which he spoke, it was the sincerity in his eyes as he looked at her that made her believe him wholeheartedly.

 Colton’s offer of friendship was one that Cassie had taken him up on and it was a state of being that came naturally to the pair. Cassie had learned about Colton’s job as the number one defenceman for the St Louis Blues during their conversation on her patio and while hockey wasn’t a sport that she professed to be well versed in, she still enjoyed hearing about his training, the games and everything that came with it, and she’d been around the Rangers fans in her family long enough to know that he was pretty big deal given that he was a Stanley Cup Champion. Colton, on the other hand, found himself completely in awe of Cassie’s role as a complex litigation lawyer for one of St Louis’ most prestigious firms, especially knowing a little bit more about her struggles to be seen and work her way up the ladder and while he couldn’t profess to be au fait with how it all worked and what was involved in her line of work and the litigation process, he loved to hear about the cases she was working on and how her work helped others. But above those things, their jobs were ones that kept them both busy and it was during the quieter times, the times that would have had them both seeking the solace of their own company once upon a time, that they would seek out each other.

It had started as cups of coffee and quick catch-ups in the brief respites of their hectic schedules, but had soon evolved into making time for lunches and even dinners shared over bottles of wine, continuing long after Colton’s season had ended before finally pausing around mid-July when he would be heading back North to spend the rest of the summer with his family. It had worked out fortuitously though as Cassie’s caseload had multiplied seemingly overnight and she would find herself working longer days and spending more time at the office than her own home. Colton was concerned of course, as any friend would be, and he would check in often when he knew she was working late. It’s not that Colton thought that she shouldn’t be working more hours, understanding enough about her job and role to know that the final push before a big court date often meant extended working hours to get everything ready, but he wanted to make sure that she was taking care of herself and wasn’t putting herself at risk of burnout.

It was a late-August evening when Colton called at around 7:30, just as he had been doing for the last couple of weeks, knowing that Cass would usually be home from the office by that point with her being an hour ahead in Missouri, even with her later working hours recently. The line rang for a few seconds, longer than it usually took for Cassie to answer him and Colt wondered if he’d maybe caught her taking a shower or making dinner. She answered eventually though, a little breathless sounding and an almost forced calmness in her voice.

“Cassandra Constantinou.”

“Cassie? Hey, it’s Colton. Is uh- is everything okay? Is this a bad time?”

“Colt,” she breathed, voice softening immediately. “Hey. God is that the time already?”

She ran a hand through her dark hair as a tired exhale passed her lips which had Colton furrowing his brow at the other end of the line and while Cass couldn’t see the slight worry that rested on his features, she could hear it in his voice as he spoke.

“Are you alright? You never answer your phone with your full name.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, slumping back into her desk chair. “Still in work mode.”

“Wait, are you still at the office?”

“Yeah,” she grimaced as she took a sip of her long-cold cup of coffee. “The court date for that big case I’ve been working on is in two days and I just need to make sure I’ve got all my ducks in a row. Time got away from me a little bit tonight and I was already behind from putting metaphorical fires out earlier in the day.”

Colton sat up from where he had been laid on his bed, unable to keep the concern out of his voice despite the fact that he didn’t want to come across like he was being overbearing.

“Have you eaten?”

“Lately?” Cassandra replied.

“Cassie-“

“I had lunch around 12:15.”

“Cass, that was 8 hours ago,” Colton chided gently. “You gotta eat, πουλάκι μου.”

Cassandra paused her action of moving papers aimlessly around her desk, a grin sparking at her lips for the first time that day and catching like kindling until it had spread the full width of her face and all the way up to her eyes.

“Did you just- have you been googling Greek pet names, Colton Parayko?”

Her tone was light and bright and Colton could feel her smile through the phone, feel the way it crawled through his skin and settled in his bones like a welcome ray of sunshine on a cold day.

“I-I,” Colton was flushing beet red and he was thankful that Cassie couldn’t see him in this moment because the redness in his face was quickly spreading to the tops of his ears. “I’ve been trying to learn Greek.”

“Oh yeah?” Cassie grinned with equal parts mischief and glee, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her desk. “Look, if you wanna learn how to swear at guys on the other team, you might not wanna call them ‘my little bird’, you totally could’ve just asked me if you were wanting to learn some Greek phrases. I can teach you all the good insults.”

“That’s not,” Colton sighed in mild exasperation, although inwardly pleased that this had provided Cassie with a much needed distraction from the stress of her work. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

Cassie’s grin softened immediately and she didn’t miss the way her heart constricted ever so slightly either. Her tone shifted to something much gentler and a world away from her playful teasing not a moment ago.

“Well, consider me surprised.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Colton asked after a pregnant pause.

“Not at all. I think it’s actually really sweet and thoughtful.”

A silence descended between the pair but it wasn’t one that was uncomfortable, instead it allowed the seed that had been buried deep in Cassie’s chest since the day Colton had gone back to Canada to sprout and it was in that moment that she found herself really missing him. She missed him for a lot of reasons, some she could rattle off like how he looked out for her and made sure that she was taking care of herself, and others she wouldn’t understand fully until later. It was as if Colton could hear that quiet call of her heart in that moment where she found herself wishing that he was back in St Louis because he broke the silence with the words Cass had been longing to hear for weeks.

“So I’m coming back at the end of next week and I was hoping you would be free to hang out.”

“That would be amazing,” Cassie’s voice was rich through the phone with her smile and Colton couldn’t help the slight flutter in his chest when he thought about how pretty she looked when she smiled in the way he was imagining her to be.

“Yeah? I figured I’d come back a couple of weeks early before training camp because… well because I’ve really missed hanging out with you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Colt.”

Colton didn’t miss Cassie’s choice of words and had to fight to resist the urge to analyse them for anything other than what they were. She said it though, not just that she missed hanging out with him, but that she missed him and she had meant it too. She had missed him, more than she thought she ever would and maybe more than friends should miss friends, and despite it being the height of summer, Cass felt like she’d been living under a grey cloud since Colton had left for Canada. It should have rattled her with how easy it had been for Colton to become a part of her life, especially when she had been so used to her own company. It had been the same since she graduated law school – she would work, often long hours as was expected of new associates trying to find their footing in a firm, she would come home tired, she would eat, shower and sleep before getting up and doing it all over again. Any free time was spent either catching up on all the things she didn’t have time to do during her working week or with her family, knowing her parents and grandmother well enough to know that if she didn’t surface frequently there would be a freak-out of epic proportions. Since moving to St Louis though? Cass’s life had changed completely and in ways she never thought possible.

Work was still stressful, yes, but for the first time in a long time she felt valued and appreciated and she was on course for partnership if things kept going the way they were; but more than that, she felt a sense of fulfilment that extended beyond her career. Being friends with Colt was easy and it was as if the two of them had an unspoken mutual understanding of what they needed from each other and their friendship. Cassie understood the pressures of Colton’s job, just as he understood the stresses of hers and it was that awareness of each other and their lives that had allowed their friendship to blossom so easily. That time spent with each other, whether on Cassie’s back patio or curled up on Colton’s couch, was what they both needed to re-center and reset. Sure, they would talk about work but it was always kept brief because neither felt the need to discuss it in great detail, they both knew what it was like for them and they both knew that their time together was an escape from all of that. Some nights they’d sit in companionable silence with nothing more than soft music in the background, others they would talk and talk about everything and anything. But as the weeks had progressed, they found themselves saying goodnight to each other later and later and that hint of reluctance would creep in in the form of a too-long hug or a lingering look. It felt natural though, and good and right, and so it was incredibly easy to make firm plans for when Colton came back to the city.

The end of the work week brought about a successful conclusion to the case that had consumed so much of Cassie’s time and with the resolution that she’d worked so hard for came vast amounts of praise from her bosses and a lighter work load the following week. They’d even gone so far as giving Cassie the Friday off for her efforts but there were a couple of loose ends that needed tying up and so, despite their gentle protests and their best efforts to get her to stay home, Cassie found herself at her desk that Friday morning. As lunchtime approached and all loose ends were sufficiently tied, Cass turned her computer off for the final time that week and said her goodbyes as she headed out of the office. She’d use the afternoon to spruce her house ready for Colton coming over once he was back from the airport and she’d resolved to give her parents a quick Skype after receiving a string of text messages from her mother, with the last one being a threat to fly down to St Louis if she didn’t hear from her soon.

The baking late-August heat had Cass tearing off her pencil skirt and blouse no sooner had she stepped into her house. She cursed as she hopped down the hallway in her heeled pumps, the grey fabric of her skirt bunched around her knees while her clammy hands fumbled with the tiny buttons on the crepe silk blouse.

“Γαμώτο!” she exclaimed as she came dangerously close to slipping on the rug in her hallway and face-planting the floor. “ηλίθιο χαλί.”

She kicked off the shoes that had almost been successful in making her the proud owner of a broken neck and pulled her skirt down her calves, stepping out of it before pulling her half unbuttoned blouse over her head and tossing the discarded clothing into the hamper in the laundry room. She rooted through the shamefully full basket of clean clothing that sat upon the counter top until she found the loose cotton maxi-dress she was looking for.

After indulging in a cool glass of ice-tea, Cass set about tidying the house - not that there was much to do, but growing up in a family full of house-proud women meant that not a single cushion could be out of place if company was coming over, especially if that company was of the male variety (not that she’d ever share that bit of information with her mother). After all, as her Nonna Gioia would say: “a ogni uccello il suo nido è bello,” and even Cassie could appreciate that a beautiful nest was indeed a tidy nest.

It was close to 3pm by the time Cassie settled down on her couch with her laptop, the temperature inside the house much more comfortable with the whisper of a breeze coming through the wide-open patio door. She balanced her computer on the arm of the sofa as she started the Skype call to her parents, her mother’s voice the first thing she heard, even before the video had loaded and before Cass had the chance to say ‘hello’.

“Mamma mia, Cassandra! We thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth!”

“Hi, mom,” Cass smirked. “How’re you?”

“Not funny, il mio passerotta.”

Cassie watched as her mother inched closer to the screen with narrowed eyes, already expecting the next words that came out of her mouth.

“You’re looking thin in the face. Are you eating? Are you sick?”

“No, mama, I’m not sick and yes, I’m eating,” Cassandra replied with as much conviction as she could muster in order to appease her mother, her effort falling short with her mother’s next line of questioning.

“What are you eating?”

“Giovanna,“ Cassie’s father interrupted.

“Look at her, Hector! She’s all skin and bone! Don’t you want to know what she’s been eating? She could be living off celery for all we know! When was the last time you had a proper meal? You’re not doing one of those ridiculous diets are you? They’re no good for you, Cassandra, there’s nothing wrong with a woman having a bit of meat on her bones.”

“I’m fine, mama,” Cassie sighed, keen to steer the conversation away from herself. “How is everyone? Nonna okay?”

“Yes, yes, we’re all fine here. You should call your Nonna though, she misses that pretty face of yours.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow and arrange to Skype next weekend, give her chance to get someone to set things up for her.”

Conversation quickly turned to the family happenings back in New York, much to Cass’s relief. Her father had been incredibly busy with work, she’d learned and he’d finally got around to buying himself a new record player after Cass had spent the better part of four months trying to convince him that there was no salvaging the old one. After half an hour or so of catching up, Cass felt a mild sense of relief wash over her at the sudden realisation that she’d managed to get through any amount of time talking to her parents without the subject of her love-life being brought up.

“Oh, your cousin Antonio had a date with a very lovely girl last week. She’s a hairdresser, such a good girl.”

Ah, fuck.

“Really, mama?” Cass said indifferently, praying to whoever was listening that she wouldn’t follow that up with anything. “Good for him.”

“You know,” her father began, looking over his glasses at her. “If you didn’t work so much then maybe you’d have time to find yourself a man.”

“Baba,” Cass warned gently.

“Your father’s right, Cassandra,” Giovanna gently scolded. “You’re a beautiful girl, why haven’t you found a nice boy yet? You’re too young to be a spinster.”

“Exactly, mama,” Cassandra replied calmly. “I’m too young to be a spinster. I’m working hard to get where I want to be in my career. There’s plenty of time for all the other stuff. Didn’t you tell me to work hard at my job and do well for myself?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t want to be an old Nonna. I want to be able to run after my grandbabies and I’m not getting any younger.”

Cassandra opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of her front door opening and then closing with a soft click.

“Cass?”

Cassandra’s face flashed with a gentle confusion as she checked the watch on her wrist before contorting into mild horror at the sound of Colton calling her name again, louder this time – loud enough that it carried through the microphone and out through the speakers of her parents’ computer judging by the gleeful expression on their faces.

“Is that a man?” her mother said excitedly. “I heard a man’s voice. Who is he? Why is he letting himself into your house? Is he your boyfriend?! Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend?!”

Colton appeared in the living room, a sheepish look on his face as he spoke.

“Sorry, is this a bad time? I caught an earlier flight and wanted to surprise you.”

“Cassandra Giulia Constantinou, you’d better answer me this second!”

Cass winced at her mother’s voice and threw Colton a glance that she hoped would tell him to run far, far away before her parents started making demands that would make Colton want the ground to swallow him up, demands that she was sure would make their friendship incredibly awkward.

“Bring him in,” her father asserted. “Let me get a good look at him, make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“Baba,” that warning tone was back in Cassandra’s tone and there was a look in her eyes that Colton found adorable but knew better than to make a comment describing it as such.

Whether or not his next move was against his better judgment would remain to be seen but Colton found himself coming deeper into the living room and sitting down on the couch next to Cass, Giovanna audibly gasping as he did so while Hector removed his glasses and surveyed the large man sitting next to his daughter.

“He’s very pale, does he not go outside? Is he sick?” Hector remarked. “It doesn’t snow in St Louis, does it? You’d lose him in a blizzard.”

“Ooooh, Cassandra. Isn’t he tall? And so broad!”

Cassie gave Colton, who had turned an interesting shade of crimson she’d never before seen, an apologetic smile before turning her attention back to her parents.

“Okay, could we try maybe not weirding my friend out? ‘kay, thanks and Jesus Christ, dad, you can’t just say stuff like that to people, I don’t even know where to start with how inappropriate that is.”

“I thought my tan was pretty good this year,” Colton muttered loudly enough that only Cassandra heard him and she had to fight with every bit of self-restraint she had to keep a straight face.

“So, young man,” Hector was speaking again; those eyes that were so remarkably like Cassandra’s were keen on Colton and Cass knew that she wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of her father’s mouth. “What is it that you do? Cassandra is a very bright girl and she shouldn’t be settling for just anybody. She deserves only the very best. Tell me why you think you’re good enough to date my daughter-“

“Okay, that’s it,” Cassandra interrupted, her tone sharper than Colton had ever heard it before. “αυτό είναι απαράδεκτο. δεν τον ανακρίνεις έτσι! είναι φίλος μου και είσαι πολύ αγενής!”

“Cassandra,” her father tried but he was immediately cut off by her once more.

“είμαστε φίλοι και τίποτα άλλο. σταμάτα να με πιέζεις να παντρευτώ” Cassandra paused for a second, as if to catch her breath from whatever tirade she’d given her parents that Colton could only begin to imagine before she spoke again, in English this time. “Now, if you don’t mind, Colton here has just got home from travelling and we have plans. I’ll call you again on Sunday.”

Whatever Cass had said to them must have worked, Colton thought, because their responses were much more subdued and they said their goodbyes rather quickly, Cassie closing her laptop with more force than was necessary and with a long exhale of breath that flared her nostrils.

“I am so sorry,” she started, her eyes apologetic as she surveyed him with a slight crease in her brow that made Colton’s heart tug in his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay. I shoulda-“ he rubbed his large hand over the back of his neck as he spoke softly. “I shoulda called ahead or something. Or knocked. Literally could’ve done a thousand things differently. Sorry for putting you in a spot there.”

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s just them. They mean well but fuck.”

Colton reached across and squeezed her hand gently, the touch managing to warm Cassie’s skin even on a day as hot as that one.

“Y’know,” he began, his tone light with a hint of teasing. “You’re terrifying when you’re pissed and start talking in Greek.”

He grinned as Cassie barked out a laugh, her head thrown back in that carefree way that made his stomach do backflips and her dark eyes sparkled behind her long lashes as she looked at him with a beaming smile, the annoyance that had rested on her features melting away into nothingness.

“Yeah? You’d do well to remember that, Parayko.”

“I wouldn’t dream of fighting you,” he quipped. “You’d kick my ass.”

There was a pregnant pause before Colton spoke again, unsure whether or not to say the words that sat heavily on the tip of his tongue. It was the gentle look in Cassie’s eyes, the smile that still graced her lips as she surveyed him easily and the way her thumb had taken to absentmindedly stroking the back of his hand that spurred him on, sure as he was that he could always be candid with her.

“What um, what did you say to them? I’ve never seen two grown adults look so timid after a telling off.”

Cassie chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, chewing over the words in her mind before she spoke them quietly, her eyes resting on Colton’s hand in hers.

“They just have this thing about me settling down and I get it, I’m their only child, I’m approaching thirty and they want grandkids. Remember how I said that family was really important to Greeks and Italians?”

Colton nodded, his eyes soft on her while he waited for her to continue.

“And every time we talk it’s ‘your cousin is seeing this girl’ or ‘the oldest Maloney girl is pregnant, isn’t that nice?’ and it is nice, it is, like, good for them, y’know? And I know my parents wanted a big family and I can’t even imagine how that must have felt, being told after the birth of your first child that she’d be your only child when they had all these plans to have lots of babies and have a big family. I want to make them happy and give them the grandkids they’d always dreamed they’d have, I do, but I’m not there yet, maybe sometime in the future but it has to be right. It has to be.”

She paused then, the rich earth of her eyes finding the summer skies of his and felt a flicker of a flame stir within her chest at how easy it was to just be like this with him, to be open and honest without fear of him somehow using that vulnerability against her. It was liberating and terrifying and everything Cassandra ever dreamed it would be when she eventually found someone she was comfortable sharing this part of her life with, that vulnerability and intimacy that was often so hard to show because of her line of work. But Colton was good and sweet with a pure heart and purer intentions and so she didn’t need to think twice about sharing this part of herself and what she’d said to her parents with him.

“I told them that they were out of line, that they can’t interrogate you like that and that their behaviour was incredibly rude. I told them that we were just friends and that they needed to stop pushing me to get married.”

Cassandra could’ve sworn that Colton’s expression had deflated slightly at the mention of their relationship status but before she’d even had the chance to process it, Colton had fixed his features back to the easy and gentle expression he usually wore around her.

“They just really care about you, y’know?” Colton said quietly after a brief moment of silence. “They want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Cassandra assured and Colton couldn’t help but wonder if the conviction in her voice was for his or her own benefit. “I am. Moving here has been the best thing. Work is awesome, I have a house that I could only have ever dreamed of being able to afford in New York.” She paused again, making sure that she had Colton’s eyes on her before she dropped the volume of her voice to just above a whisper, “and I met you. How could I not be happy?”

Colton smiled, not big and bright, but soft and warm and filled with a tenderness that teetered on the edge of crossing the line of friendship. Here in front of him was someone he would have never imagined would become a good friend in the relatively short time they’d known each other, his best friend in fact and now that she was here, in his life and in his heart, he wondered how he’d ever lived a life without her because with Cassandra, nothing was ever forced and she gave him a strange feeling of freedom that he’d never had before. It was that kind of ease that makes the stresses of life fall away and whenever he was with her it felt like they could be the only two people on earth. She knew when he was struggling with the stresses of his job without him ever needing to say it out loud, just like he would know when she was under pressure with her own work but more than any words of encouragement they could give to each other to alleviate the stresses and burdens of life, it was that peaceful, secure feeling between them, that came so effortlessly, that pulled them towards each other like planets to a sun. It was then, in that moment, that Colton began to understand that maybe home wasn’t a place at all, it was a feeling. It was something that you miss when you’re without it and Colton could say with completely certainty that he’d missed Cassie.

Cassie and Colton would see each other almost every day over the course of weeks that followed. Even with the start of training camp, Colton found himself home every evening and Cassie’s work schedule had eased somewhat, meaning that she was often escaping the office at 5:30 on the dot. They would spend those precious few hours before sleep called them to their respective beds together, talking over dinner with a bottle of wine open between them before eventually retiring to the couch. Sometimes they’d find themselves talking all night, with the TV in the background forgotten about, others they’d watch something easy together (which led to Colton discovering that he really enjoyed Bake Off, much to Cassie’s delight) but their favourite nights together, or at least for Colton anyway, were the nights where they would share their favourite music with each other. Colton had admittedly not been much of a music enthusiast. Sure, he enjoyed listening to it just as much as the next person, but he would be the first person to confess that his listening never really extended beyond the radio. The same couldn’t be said for Cassie.

Much like her father, Cassie was the proud owner of an old record player that had been lovingly refurbished. If asked about it, she’d preface her love of the item by saying that it was probably the most extravagant purchase she’d ever made, but she would also make no hesitation in saying that there was just something about listening to Etta James or Billie Holliday on vinyl that digital versions just couldn’t hold a candle to. Colton loved that Cassie’s music preferences had been influenced by her family, he loved hearing about how her father had fallen in love with Stevie Wonder and Aretha Franklin when he first came to America at the tender age of 21, he loved hearing about how Cass’s father would purchase a new vinyl with every pay-check, something that had started when he first started earning money as a carpenter and handyman and still continued to this day. He loved how Cass could recall, with complete clarity, the way she would sit on the rug in front of the record player as a child while she watched her father unwrap the vinyl, filled with both excitement and anticipation at what wonderful music was held on the black disc in his hands. Colton learned that music had been such a prominent and important part of her childhood, whether it was listening to her father’s music collection with him and telling him about new artists to try or weekends spent at her Nonna and Nonno’s house filled with Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. All of those songs had touched her life in some way and with each story Colton couldn’t help but feel thankful and grateful to see inside the heart that brought him such peace and happiness without even realising.

All too soon though, the season had started once more and once again Colton found himself on the road. This time it felt different though. Instead of the usual indifference he would feel about being away from the comforts of home, he felt an ache that had started in his chest and settled all through his bones. It wasn’t homesickness, at least not in the traditional sense of the word, because it wasn’t his house that Colton missed, it was the person that made him feel like he was home. It was the person who had taken the time to make him a Spotify playlist to listen to while he was travelling, that playlist that he couldn’t help but have on repeat because during those moments that the music filled his ears and filled his soul like sand in an hourglass, he was back in St Louis on her patio with her, drinking wine and laughing together with that same music filtering through the sliding doors. It was easy, in those moments where he would be on the plane with his headphones and that playlist on, to close his eyes and imagine the way her rich laughter crawls all the way through his skin and warms his heart like a shot of whisky on a winter’s day.

Cassie hadn’t really noticed just how much a part of her life Colton was until his schedule was pulling him out of the city and she found herself alone again during the evenings. She also found herself, in those moments, picking up the television remote and tuning in to Blues games, even going so far as reaching out to her cousins back in New York to pick their brains about the finer details of hockey, citing her sudden interest in the sport as a new hobby on account of her not wanting to throw Colton into the lion’s den. She’d made sure to test her newfound knowledge on Colton during their phone calls while he was away (which impressed him to no end) and had made a promise to come and watch him play his next game at Enterprise Center. It was that promise that had Colton wrapping up a blue jersey, with his name and number on, in pretty floral paper, going so far as adding a length of ribbon tied in a little bow on top, even if it did look a little droopy by virtue of his large hands and less than nimble fingers.

Colton was tired. A tough stretch of road-games had his body aching in ways that would ordinarily have him crawling into bed and not resurfacing until practice obligations demanded it, but it’d been almost a week since he’d seen Cassie and the promise of her company, a home-cooked meal and all the wine he could manage was something he wouldn’t dream of resisting. He had taken a quick shower once getting home before changing into a pair of jeans and a soft-knit sweater, making sure to grab the wrapped jersey and the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on his way back from the airport. He was a little early but he’d learned from experience that Cassie wouldn’t mind. He would simply make sure that she had a full wine glass and offer to help in the kitchen.

He let himself in as normal, the beautiful smell of rich tomatoes and herbs hitting him immediately and sparking a wide smile on his face. He didn’t speak immediately, the volume of the music she had on loud enough for him to know she wouldn’t hear him, but instead slipped off his sneakers and moved further into the house.

“Hai usato capperi?”

The voice that came from the kitchen belonged to an older woman and Colton found himself wondering if he’d missed something during his earlier conversation with Cass. He was sure she hadn’t mentioned having extra company but he had been picking up flowers for her at the time and it was entirely possible that he could have missed that small detail in the process.

“Non è una vera puttanesca se non usi i capperi. Me lo hai insegnato tu.”

Colton paused in the archway, his eyes falling to Cassie in the kitchen while his heart swelled to ten times its normal size at the sight in front of him. There was no one else there with her, only her iPad on a stand resting on top of the counter. It took a moment for Colton to realise that the voice was in fact coming from the device when he heard the older woman begin to speak again.

“Dimmi di più su questo ragazzo che ti piace”

Cassie laughed at whatever the older woman had said before replying, “Ti ho già parlato di lui, nonna.”

‘Ah,’ Colton thought. ‘This is the word famous Nonna.”

“Bene, dimmelo di nuovo!’ her grandmother chuckled. ‘Sono una vecchia signora e la mia memoria è terribile”.

If you asked him about this particular night at a later date, Colton wasn’t entirely sure how long he had stood there listening to Cassandra talk with her grandmother while her hands worked the pasta dough she had been making, but he would tell you that it was long enough for him realise what had been in his heart for a while. Because somewhere in between Cassie talking and laughing with her grandmother and their spirited rendition of the number he recognised as being Dean Martin that was playing loud enough through Cassie’s record player for her Nonna to hear, Colton understood what that recent feeling of homesickness had been. It wasn’t homesickness at all, it was love.

He wasn’t sure why the sight of Cass kneading pasta dough while Facetiming her grandma had made the penny suddenly drop for him. Perhaps it was the fact he could feel every bit of the love that this girl had for her Nonna, much like the love she had for every member of her family. Perhaps it was the fact that she had taken time out of her day to spend time listening to old jazz records with her grandmother just like she had when she was a child. Perhaps it was the fact that the woman in front of him was beautiful and intelligent and so unbelievably kind. But the truth and reality of it was that it was all of those things and above everything else, it was the peace and sense of belonging he felt whenever he was with her. It was having someone to be proud of and be proud of him in return and it was having someone to miss, having someone in his life who makes saying goodbye so hard. Cassie was all of those things and deep down Colton knew that he was those things for her too.

His feet must have heard the call from his heart that his head had not because before he could catch himself he was right behind her with his hand on her lower back, gentle and soft. She jumped slightly at the contact, not expecting him to be in her house for another twenty minutes.

“Sorry,” he laughed quietly before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “I figured I’d come over early and help but this all looks a little out of my ability range.”

“Guests don’t help the cook. Guests sit at the island, drink alcohol and mock those who are doing the cooking. Those are the rules” she grinned in reply.

“Mamma mia, Cassandra, cioè un bel giovanotto!”

Colton wasn’t entirely sure what Cassandra’s grandmother had said but whatever it was had Cassie groaning slightly and, unbeknownst to him, her face burning white hot.

“OK, ora riattacco il telefono,” Cassie groaned causing her Nonna to cackle wildly.

“Dagli un bacio per me!”

“Sei una cattiva signora,” Cassandra grinned before the pair said their goodbyes and she was closing the case on her iPad.

Cassie’s attention then turned to Colton who was leaning casually against the counter with an easy grin playing on his lips.

“So that was Nonna?” he asked.

“Yeah, that was Nonna,” Cassied laughed softly. “She was just checking in to make sure I wasn’t desecrating her spaghetti alla puttanesca recipe.”

“And were you?”

“Are you nuts? Do you know how angry Italians get when you don’t make their recipes properly? You might as well set fire to the flag.”

Colton barked a laugh at that, an impish little smirk on his face as he asked, “So cream in a carbonara would be a ‘no’?”

Cassie’s hands, which were rolling the dough ready for the pasta machine, stopped dead in their tracks, a look of abject horror on her face as she looked at Colton.

“Don’t even joke.”

“That’s one for the book then,” Colton grinned, referring to the little notebook sitting on his kitchen countertop that held all of his little tips and reminders he’d learned when it came to cooking, which Cassie found to be both hilarious and endearing in equal measure. “So your Nonna is okay?”

“Yeah,” Cass replied as she fed the pasta dough through the machine. “She said you were very handsome which is high praise indeed because unless it’s Dean Martin, Nonna doesn’t wanna know.”

Colton chuckled as he pushed away from the counter to fix them both a glass of wine.

“Your Nonna has good taste,” he smirked as he set Cassie’s full glass down beside her. “And what about you? Do you think I’m handsome?”

Cassie’s only reply was to suck air in through her teeth before giggling mischievously at the mock hurt on Colton’s face while his hand clutched at his chest.

“You’re wicked, you know that?”

“I get that from my Nonna too,” she laughed.

With Colton’s help, dinner was promptly served and Cassie asked Colton all about his recent trip while they ate. The first bottle of Barbera was soon empty and the pair were well on their way with the second one by the time their plates were clean of their food. Colton insisted on clearing the dishes away and loading them into the dishwasher, despite Cassie’s protests and soon enough they were both curled up on her couch with the glass pyrex dish Cass had used to make her tiramisu in and two spoons. The rest of the evening was spent in easy conversation, Cassie pressed into Colton’s side while his arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her against him. He couldn’t help the way his nose found the soft chocolate strands of her hair where her head rested heavily on his shoulder. They had been sitting in companionable silence for a while, with nothing but the smooth voice of Norah Jones filling the space between them but neither felt the need to speak, not because they didn’t have anything to say, but because there were no words that needed to be spoken, both content to just be there in that moment together.

That’s how it had been all along though, Cassandra thought as she listened to the steady beat of Colton’s heart beneath his strong chest. They had always been comfortable with just basking in the presence of each other, where nothing was forced or artificial. Every part of their relationship, from the moment Colton came to her rescue on the morning of her first day at work, to being in this moment with him now, felt natural and organic. It was easy to let him in and easier to open her heart and her life up to him and it was a trust that Colton gave back to her in spades. Cassie wasn’t sure if she really knew what love was, not having much of a positive experience of it herself and only having her parents’ and grandparents’ relationships to go off, but she believed that it had to be something just like this.

She wasn’t sure at what point she’d fallen asleep and she certainly wasn’t sure at what point she’d laid down with her head in his lap, but it was Colton’s gentle voice and the feeling of his fingers lightly carding through her hair that pulled her from the dream she was having, the memory of it slipping quickly away from her as she passed into the waking world.

“Cass? It’s almost midnight, πουλάκι μου… I gotta head home.”

He smiled softly as Cassie groaned while her eyes fluttered open slowly.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, the last little remnants of sleep still clinging to her voice.

“It’s okay, babe. I wish I didn’t have to go but I have some stuff that I need to do in the morning before practice.”

“Yeah,” Cass croaked as she sat up and moved so that Colton could stand. “Yeah, of course.”

She followed him out of the living area and down the hall to the front door, her eyes drifting immediately to the small bouquet of flowers and gift-wrapped package that sat on her console table.

“Colt?”

Colton followed her gaze to the gifts he’d brought with him.

“Ah shit, I completely forgot I’d even brought these. I heard voices when I let myself in and I guess I just got distracted.”

“You bought me flowers?” she asked as she picked the blooms up, smiling softly at the spray of freesias, peonies and baby’s breath before picking up the wrapped gift. “And what’s this?”

“Just a little something for when you come to the game,” Colton grinned as he slipped on his shoes before turning to face Cassie.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Colton said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “But I wanted to.”

There was a brief pause before Colton leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to Cassie’s cheek, his smile warm and gentle as he pulled back and with a tone to match while he spoke.

“If you’re home tomorrow afternoon I’ll come over with coffee and pastries after practice.”

With Cassie’s agreement plans were made for the following day and Colton said his goodnight before heading back home, already missing her despite only being next door. As Colton got himself ready for bed he let himself think about Cass and the way he felt whenever he was with her. She gave him the safe space to just be and that was something Colton wasn’t sure he would ever have the words to thank her for. He’d dated enough since going professional to know that not all women were genuine and that in itself made it hard for him to find a meaningful connection, but things were different with Cassie. She had her own life, was successful in her own right and didn’t care about who he was or what he did for a living. Instead, she was supportive and listened to what he was telling her, really telling her, and she always seemed to know what to say and, most importantly, when to say it because for all Colton was always open to hear someone else’s perspective, there were times where he just needed to he heard.

Cassie not only gave him that but so many other things too. She was bright and witty, thoughtful and patient, kind and generous but above all of her wonderful qualities, she’d been an incredible friend to Colton. That friendship was one that he cherished and he knew it was something she cherished too, but rather than be rattled by the idea of that friendship potentially becoming something else, Colton embraced it because it was only what he knew to already be true between them. Their friendship had laid the foundations for them to build something truly wonderful and Colton knew that he was ready to take that leap, but more importantly, he knew that he’d be taking that leap with an amazing woman by his side, and so, as he climbed into bed and settled his head against the pillow, he resolved to tell her his truth when he saw her the following afternoon.

It was a little after 2pm when Cassie opened the door to Colton, the promised coffee and pastries clutched in his hands which she gratefully took from him as she invited him inside. She arranged the baked goods on a plate while Colton poured their coffees into mugs and shortly after they were settled on Cassie’s couch with her sat cross legged facing him and her back against the arm.

“How was practice this morning?” she asked after swallowing her first sip of coffee, a gentle look on her face as she surveyed Colton.

“Yeah, it was good. Coach worked us hard but it wasn’t too bad.”

“Good,” Cassie hummed from behind her mug, eyes narrowing slightly at the way Colton was cradling his mug with his brow slightly furrowed. “Is everything okay with you? You seem a little distracted.”

“I um, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Colton replied as he set his mug down on the coffee table and turned his body to face her better. “About last night.”

Cassie set her own mug down, giving Colton her complete and undivided attention. She didn’t say anything else, instead giving him the time and space to get his thoughts in order and say what he needed to say.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever really told you just how thankful I am to have you in my life.”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice, yeah,” Cassie grinned, causing Colton to laugh softly and some of that tension he was carrying in his shoulders to melt away.

“Well I am,” he replied, tone filled with sincerity. “But I’ve been feeling like something has changed between us and I think it started not long after I’d gone home to Canada.”

Cassie exhaled and chewed on her lower lip slowly, not entirely sure where he was going with this but unable to stop the little pit of dread from opening up in her stomach. She didn’t speak though and so Colton continued.

“I missed you, more than words can say really and while I loved going home and seeing my family, there was a big part of me that couldn’t wait to get back to St Louis and for no other reason than because you were in St Louis and I realised then, that home is wherever it is that you are. Then last night, coming in here and seeing you talking and laughing with your Nonna, God, you’ve never been more perfect to me because all I could see was that love and passion that you have for your family and fuck, Cass, I wanna be a part of that. I want to be a part of your world. We’ve not been just friends for a while and I know that it’s because I’ve loved you for a while, last night just kind of confirmed to me what I already knew deep down.”

“Are you done?” Cassie asked with a straight face and Colton looked at her a little stunned before nodding apprehensively.

It took precisely 1.7 seconds for Cassie to close the distance between her and Colton and crash her lips against his, and another .5 of a second for Colton to catch up and move his hand to cup the back of her head while he kissed her back. They stayed that way for a few moments, their lips moving slowly together in perfect harmony as Cassie manoeuvred herself into Colton’s lap while her fingers busied themselves in his hair, long-overdue for a haircut but Cass found to be a look that suited him along with the short beard he’d grown.

She pulled away only once her lungs had begun their gentle protest for breath before pressing another, quicker kiss to his lips, Colton’s brow quirking as she devolved into giggles.

“What’s tickled you?”

“Nothing,” she grinned. “Just that second one was from Nonna. She told me to give you one from her.”

Colton couldn’t help but laugh at that and found himself wearing a grin to match Cassie’s, still smiling even as their lips met once more.

“God, I can’t wait to meet her, all of your family, actually.”

“You, Colton Parayko, are either incredibly brave or certifiably insane,” Cassie teased as she carded her fingers through his hair, the smile still bright on her face. “It’s a lot, you think you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” he replied, all cocky and confident with a sparkle in his eyes that reminded Cassie of the way the sun kisses the Mediterranean on a summer’s day.

“Good,” she grinned with that bright and beautiful smile that Colton loved so much. “Because one of the perks of loving me is that you inherit a weird, obnoxious family who will drive you completely crazy but who are the most generous and wonderful people you will ever meet.”

“I do love you,” Colton said, his tone soft and a million miles away from what it was not a moment ago. “And I want this, I want you and everything that comes with that because this? Us? It’s perfect and it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Cassie kissed him, slow and sure and soft while her hands moved from their home in his hair to cup his face while her thumbs swept along the scruff at his jaw. It was a featherlight, her touch, but Colton felt it spread all through his skin until it had filled every single corner of his body and had him feeling both grounded and weightless all at once. He pulled back a shade to look into her eyes, those brown eyes of hers that held all the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they were the wood that could burn with golden flames and yet be forever perfectly entire. In those earthly hues was his soul, those eyes that were filled to the brim with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven he wished to always be a part of. So lost in that astral plain as he was, he almost missed her words, but they were the kind of words that go beyond hearing. They were words that he felt, in the way that she looked at him, in the way that she touched him and in the way that she spoke his name and hearing them said out loud only confirmed what they both felt in their hearts and in their souls.

“I love you too, Colt.”

Colton couldn’t help the smile on his face as he connected his lips with hers once more, sighing into their kiss. That feeling was there again, that feeling that had been there all along, that peaceful, easy feeling of being at home and while neither of them knew for certain what the future would bring, they knew that they would be okay while they always had each other. Neither Cassie nor Colton had ever really experienced what it was like to be in complete and irrevocable love, but somewhere deep inside of them, despite not really knowing what it was that they should have been looking for, they knew that it was something just like this.

[agentsoftie]

mistletoe

summary: you like him, a lot. so penny does something. something that may or may not involve mistletoe

a/n: it’s vlogmas y’all! also just act like this was uploaded on the 1st instead of the second. also, this love isn’t proof read so bare with me

pairing and word count: spencer x (f) reader & 1.6k

The day was December 1st, and in the paradise that is Virginia, that meant Holiday season. The lights were already up. And the cold air was picking up so much that one couldn't possibly go outside without wearing a coat, fearing for hyperthermia. Carolers were out around the town, singing their hearts out and freezing their hands off. Pictures With Santa was being set up in the park, and elves were practicing their dances and jingles. You could smell the cookies and the peppermint from a mile away. Christmas songs and melodies were playing all across town. And in response, all the hungover college kids were groaning and sulking all across town as they got their morning coffee and went to class.

Each radio was playing some form of holiday music instead of its general hillbilly religious crap. And you honestly didn't mind. Although, it's not like you ever bothered to turn on the radio. But today, something was different. Something had just changed. Maybe it was the fact that it was now the time for laughter and joy instead of harm. Maybe that was the change.

The cold air suddenly leaves your ears as the feeling of warmth rushes in. And to your surprise, you're greeted by a very peppy Lenny. Although, you did bring him a donut this morning, so that might have an effect. “Y/N! Good Morning!” He said as he buzzed you in. “You too Len! Hope you like the snack.” Before you could finish the question, he was half way done with his donuts. You smiled to yourself as you entered the elevator.

“Wait!” You heard someone yell as you were about to hit the button. You waited, as one does, and soon saw the figure that was running towards you clear up. “Spencer,” you breathed out as he ran in. “Y/n, hi.” He said as he was catching his breath.

You hit the button and quickly looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible. You see, you loved him. Ever since the dawn of time. Or, at least since last December. See, today, technically marks your one year anniversary since you joined the team. See, the first time you first laid eyes on him, the first time you said hello, your heart skipped a beat. The way he moved, the way he talked, just him. Him- himself, was memorizing enough. Never though. Never did you have the courage to talk or say anything to him. The team always noticed, but they never said anything, saying as you got along with them all great.

As soon as the elevator opened you ran for the two glass doors… As subtly as possible. The office smelt like peppermint and hot chocolate, and there was only one possible reason for that. Penelope.

“Good morning my lovely little love birds!”

You both stopped in your steps and looked at each other dead in the eye. “You guys, I’m joking, come on.” You both chuckled awkwardly and he quickly sprinted to his desk as you but your coffee on your desk.

“Like what you’ve done with the place Nel. Quite nice if I say so.”

She set a stack of piles on the desk, and straightened your hair.“You better like it. I stayed till like 10 getting everything ready and paid Lenny 20 dollars to help me set up half of these things.”

“Sucks that it’s gonna be down by mid January.” You say as you take some files off.

“Ooooh, yeah no, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Hey Nel, these aren't files.” You say as you give her the file you were looking at and picked through the other ones. Just to find that they weren't files either.

“Oh! Look at that! I never even noticed,” she said as she straightened her pasture. Spencer looked over to see what the commotion was about, but you tried not to pay attention.

“Spencer, would you come here please!”

You looked at Penelope and cursed in every single language you knew, and that was including ALS. She was the only one at the BAU who knew about your crush on Spencer. Since she was the reason you ever even wanted, or considered joining the BAU.

He got up and walked to your desk as you tried to look busy.

“What’s up Pen?” He said as he put his hand on your desk.

“I need you and Y/N to do something for me.” You looked shocked, but luckily, Spencer didn't see anything. “Can you please go down and do a few errands for me. Or well, for us.”

“Will we get paid?” You asked, she nonned.

“Is Hotch okay with this?” He asked, she, again, nodded. “Alright then, just text us what you need.” He said as he grabbed your hand and walked towards the door. You quickly grabbed your phone and wallet and pulled yourself forward. Your cheeks were rosy red. Or, as red as they could be, so you kept your head high. Although that probably doesn't work in your favor when you will be stuck with him the entire day.

“Okay, first of all, fresh roses.”

“Oooh, I know a great little flower shop. It’s by the bakery near Santa’s Little Shop.”

“Where?”

“It’s by my house here I’ll-”

“Got it.” He said as he cut you off. You wanted to ask him how he knew where you lived, but then you figured that before you came, he went over you and your file like 50 times. Or with him, most likely one.”

You looked out the window as snow fell down to the ground. It was a light snow, nothing big, nothing new. It was the type of snow where you could build a snowman, but it might take an eternity. He drove slowly and carefully turning on the radio to find The Beatles playing.

“Here we go.” He said as Blackbird was dying down in the background.

“Perfect.”

You both got out of the car and looked around. Some things just never change. Even when you’re off of work.

“Hi! Welcome!”

“Hey Blair! Where are all or your red, white, and green flowers?”

“That’s… oddly specific.” She spoke as she got up from behind the counter.

“Work.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say… Well okay, here we have our roses, a staple piece. Then, some white roses, another staple piece. And Finally, green roses!”

You smiled a little. It was small, but she saw it. “I think Y/N’s looking for something more festive? Like… these poinsettia’s!” Spencer said as he walked around the store/

“I’ll take the roses, all three colors, and the poinsettia’s please.”

She rang up the total and you were gonna give her your credit card, but he beat you too it.”Spence…” You trailed “Y/N don't.”

You grabbed the flowers and so did he. He opened the car and as soon as you got it, the conversation picked up once more. “You know, you never had to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“Okay well so did I.”

“Well I did it first.”

“What are you, five?”

“Is that supposed to mean something Y/N?” He said as he looked over at you.

“Ehh ehh, eyes the road!” You said as you snapped at the road.

He simply laughed as he looked back. “Okay, Now the coffee shop. She said that we need fresh treats since some of the kids are coming over tonight.”

“What’s tonight?” You asked as you looked around at the white ground. This was the first time in a while, or maybe in forever that you were having a normal and fluent conversation with him. It’s always, “Hi Spencer *runs away” or “Hey, *dies inside*” BUt this, this was different. This was fun. This was something you could get used to.

“Remember the office party.”

“Fuck… Yeah I forgot.”

“Ehh don't worry, so did I. But I think I’m just gonna stay home and re-read something.”

“Weirdo,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair and messed it up. Somehow, just somehow, your heart wasn't beating 20 times fast almost causing you to fall dead on the spot. But instead you were just having fun and laughing. With Spencer. Spencer Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid. Someone you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“Do you like the Holidays?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it was the only holiday that I looked forward to when I was a child. Still now too I guess. Which is highly concerning, but we’re not gonna talk about that.”

He chuckled. “You’re funny Y/N,”

“I know.” You said as you smirked.

You looked around at everything that was going on. Kids running around and people drinking hot chocolate. Other people watching the carolers sing, and others kissing under the mistletoe. One person though couldn't stop staring. They couldn't stop staring at you. They looked at your magnificent hair and melted. They looked into your eyes and watched them shine. And heard a baby laugh for the first time every time you talked or laughed.

“What about you Spence?”

“Huh?”

“You like the holidays?”

“Yeah,”

“Well, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like the holidays?”

“Because of mistletoe,”

“Because of what?”

You were cut off by his hand cuffing your face. I took you a moment to realize what was happening, but once you did, you melted in. You put your hands in his hair and pulled a little. The kiss was aggressive for a public kiss but you soon eased it up due to the fact that this was happening in public. You broke apart due to the fact that breathing exists. And smiled into each other's lips.

“I said… because of mistletoe.”

“Screw you Spencer Reid.”

“You wish.”

“Really, cuz that didn't look like it.”

“You kissed back.”

“By default,”

tagging; @criminalmindsmoodrn​, @marshmallowtraver​, @ghostly-angelic​, @himarisolace​

moot tags: (sorry if this annoys you) @blakeprentiss​, @lizziechase​, @goldenxreid​

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (9/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

==

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [AO3]

Summary:  During her second pregnancy, Trisha satisfies an unusual craving and reflects on their growing family.

Characters: Trisha, Hohenheim

Pairing: Trisha/Hohenheim

For the most part, Trisha has found her second pregnancy to be much easier than her first. Knowing what to expect this time around, she’s been prepared for the morning sickness and the aching and cramping, and maybe it’s just psychological but they don’t seem to be anywhere near as bad this time. 

The thing she is not prepared for is the cravings. 

She hadn’t had any with Ed, at least, not that she’d noticed. She hadn’t wanted anything out of the ordinary. And she hadn’t wanted to eat at odd times of the day.

This one, however, has decided that it wants the strangest combinations of foods possible at the strangest times imaginable, which is why Van has just entered the kitchen at three o’clock in the morning to find her making a honey and tomato sandwich. 

For a long time, he just stares at her in confusion. She can forgive the confusion. It’s three o’clock in the morning and he’s just spent twenty minutes getting Ed back to sleep. He’s probably not completely with it at the moment. 

“Is that honey?”

“Yes.”

“And tomatoes?”

“Yes.”

“In a sandwich?”

“Yes.”

He opens his mouth to say something and then just shakes his head, deciding better of it.

“Come on, Van, this is not the weirdest thing you’ve seen me eat in the last five months.”

“That’s true.” He looks at the sandwich with something akin to fear in his expression, grabbing a glass of water and retreating out of the kitchen quickly. “I’m going back to bed, enjoy your… concoction.”

Trisha just laughs and tucks into her sandwich, looking down at the bump that’s undeniably starting to show. She hadn’t even realised she was pregnant again at the beginning, figuring that it had to be impossible, just six months after Ed was born and still breast-feeding. Even Pinako was surprised by it, but Trisha has long since accepted that nothing about her life since meeting Van was ever going to be ordinary. 

(She thinks they’ll have to be a bit more careful after this one’s born. As much as she likes the thought of a big family, she’d prefer them all to be a bit more spaced out.)

To say that Van reacted with mild panic when she told him she was expecting again would be something of an understatement. He loves Ed so much and he really wanted to have a family, but it took him a long time to get used to fatherhood and even though he’s comfortable with Ed now, he’s still worried about doing it wrong. Maybe it’s because he spent so, so long without a family that he’s just plain terrified of messing up the one he’s now got. 

Still, he got used to the idea fairly quickly and he seems much calmer this time around than he did before. She wonders if he’ll have the same kind of reaction to the new baby as he did to Ed, or if things will come easier to him now. She hopes they will; it was sad to watch him second-guessing himself whilst she had bonded with her first-born so quickly and easily. 

Sandwich eaten and craving satisfied for now, Trisha makes her way back upstairs, pausing on the landing to look into the darkened nursery and check on Ed, now sleeping peacefully after his earlier wakefulness. 

Naturally she has no pictures of Van from his early years, but she’s sure that he would have looked like Ed does as a baby. Ed already has his father’s eyes and nose, and his hair is rapidly lightening from the brown it had been when he was born, more like hers, to a dark gold. 

Ed gives a squeaky little snore and Trisha smiles. He can be a little devil sometimes but she wouldn’t change him for the world, and when he’s asleep, he’s one of the most beautiful things that Trisha can imagine. She steps out of the doorway and pads softly down the landing towards her own room. Hopefully his brother or sister will let her get some rest as well. 

She slips into bed beside Van, who rolls over and spoons up behind her, hand coming around to rest on her belly. It’ll still be a while yet before they feel a proper kick, but once they do, Trisha really hopes that this baby won’t be quite as active as Ed was. Once he got going it felt like he was dancing a Drachman jig inside her for the last couple of months. It was exhausting just feeling it. 

She interlaces her fingers with Van’s, waiting for sleep to take her.

“How was the sandwich?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Delicious. I’ll make you one too next time.”

“I’ll pass.” There’s a long pause and she thinks that he’s nodded off until he speaks again. “Do you think this one’s a boy or a girl? You were so certain with Ed.”

“I think he’s another boy. Not quite as boisterous as Ed was, but I’m still thinking boy.” Another long pause. “You should probably think of some girl names just in case though.”

“Why me?”

“I chose Edward. It’s only fair you choose this one’s name.”

“I like Alphonse. Maybe Alice for a girl.”

Trisha has to wonder. She knows not to prod at the old wounds, that Xerxes is difficult for him to talk about at the best of times, but she does sometimes ponder if there was anyone that he would want to honour in that way, by having their name live on. He knows the names of every single soul in his veins, and Trisha knows he won’t name their baby after any of them for fear of the others feeling left out. But maybe there was someone in his life before all that happened. After all, he had to have a mother at some point. 

She pushes the thought away and rubs her belly. 

“Be good in there, Alphonse, ok? We’ll see you soon.”

Trisha likes to think she feels a little flutter of movement in response.

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Carefree Highway (2/2)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

The two of you got into Lester’s truck and took off down the road, out of Ambrose. Neither of you spoke, but it wasn’t at all awkward. It felt safe – comforting, even. You leaned up against the door, gazing out of the window as the world passed by. The radio quietly hummed an old folksy tune you didn’t know, but somehow still felt nostalgic. The rumble of the road beneath the wheels and the gentle rattling of Lester’s dash décor almost began to sound like a lullaby.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before Lester pulled his truck into the empty parking lot of an abandoned truck stop. You observed your surroundings. The few neighboring buildings were as dark as the night encircling it. The only signs of life were the cars passing by on the highway nearby, the ramp to join it was right in front of you. Lester parked facing away from the highway and ushered you to get out with him. You silently took his lead, curious what he was getting up to. He pulled down the door to the bed of his truck and helped you up. He followed after and sat next to you, offering up a kind smile as he situated himself at your side. He turned to look where the highway cut through the horizon. You turned to follow his eyes, watching drivers pass right by without a second thought. Though it was incredibly peaceful, you wondered why Lester had chosen to bring you there.

“Lester, what are we doing here?” you asked quietly, worried you might be ruining some form of meditation for him. He turned toward you with that smile that warmed your heart, up to your cheeks.

“This is my favorite place in the wide world, Y/N!” He told you eagerly, “Never been a bad day I couldn’t make better by sittin’ right here a while.”

You turned back to gaze at the stretch of highway that Lester apparently loved so well. You were honored that he wanted to share this place with you, but you didn’t understand what made it so special.

“But I thought the interstate and highways like this were a part of Ambrose being abandoned. Doesn’t that make you angry?” you asked, genuinely wanting to understand.

“Ambrose was a nice town and I was sad seein’ it left like it was, but it wasn’t never like what my brothers say. ‘Sides, nothin’ lasts forever, right? No use holdin’ a grudge.” Lester said, “Now, Bo and Vinny, they could spend their whole lives angry at people for leavin’, but that’s just what people do. Can’t blame people for movin’ to greener pastures. Everyone wants better days, nothin’ wrong with that.”

“I guess I can understand that.” You said turning to face him once more.

“Since the two of them can’t stand lookin’ at this thing, I come here when I don’t wanna be found.” Lester told you, a content smile gracing his features, “I like it. I like watching the world go by. It’s nice knowin’ there’s people out there, livin’ their lives, ya know? Movin’ forward, and all.”

“Do you feel like you can’t move forward?” you asked quietly, scooting closer to him. Lester took a moment to think.

“I don’t wanna change nothin’, really. I like what I got and I’m good with where I’m from.” He started, “But I sure do wish Bo and Vincent would move on instead of back, sometimes. Ambrose is all they ever had and they came back soon as they could. I can’t help thinkin’ maybe they mighta traded somethin’ better for what they already knew they got. I dunno, maybe that makes me a rotten brother.”

“Don’t say that, Lester.” You pleaded. You placed your hand over his, giving it a light squeeze, “You’re a wonderful brother, you’d do anything to help the two of them, and you never ask for anything in return. You could be any place, living any number of lives, but you stuck by them and you’re still here.”

“Shoot, Y/N. You don’t gotta say that.” Lester said, rubbing his neck with his free hand and blushed as his eyes darted away from yours, bashfully.

“Yes, I do, how else would you know, how incredible you are?” you asked as you lifted his arm to wrap around you as you melted into his side. Lester stiffened at your proximity at first, but soon relaxed into your embrace, savoring your warmth against him. You both continued to watch as cars made their way past you. The sound of the air whipping over their hoods echoing louder as they neared and fading into the distance behind them. You spoke again, “I’m glad you’re here. You’re the absolute best part about this place, Les. There’s no way I could survive without you. Especially since I can’t hunt or kill to save myself. I’m really quite useless.”

Lester shifted in your grasp, a small grimace passing over his face at your words. He was elated you liked having him around so much, but you belittling yourself for failing to kill, deeply troubled him.

“Listen, I know Bo is mad that ya let that girl go and that he made ya feel real lousy ‘bout it,” Lester said, “But I’m glad ya didn’t kill her.”

“Even though it got you punched in the face?” you said half joking, half bitter at your failure.

“Yeah. A punch to the nose is nothin’ compared to how it feels knowin’ you was the reason somebody’s dead. Trust me, ya don’t want that.” Lester said trying to sound cheerful, but failing as his voice wavered over his words.

“Lester…why are you saying this?” you asked in a whisper, concern rising in your eyes at seeing the melancholy in his.

“Me, I got used to it. I just try not to think ‘bout it, cause if I do, I start to remember how much it don’t sit right.” Lester continued, his voice shaking, “So, I’m glad ya froze. Ya care – ya let the human in ya have a say. Not much of anythin’s felt human about Ambrose in a long time, and I don’t just mean Vinny’s wax figures.” Lester moved to swipe his sleeve across his face, trying to stop himself from crying in front of you, “I never knew anyone could be so nice or sweet or gentle, ‘specially with me, ‘til I met you. And I sure never seen anyone so damn pretty! When ya came into town, ya brought the biggest heart I ever known along with ya and you’re still holdin’ on to it after all this time. I think that’s a good thing. No matter what Bo says, just please don’t let him scare ya into bein’ heartless like me.”

“Lester,” you swiftly cupped his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks to catch his tears as they fell, “Don’t think for a second that you lost your heart. You are the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful person I know. When I stumbled into Ambrose, I had nothing and no one. I was terrified, but you reached out to me without hesitation. Bo scares me to this day and Vincent still won’t speak to me, but you managed to make your home my home. No one could take the good out of you. You’re so good, Lester. I honestly don’t know how you got to be this good.”

“I ain’t any good, Y/N.” he said as he placed his hands over yours, still resting on his face, “I’m just tryin’ to be for ya.”

“That’s more than enough.” you whispered with a tearful smile. Lester’s soulful eyes glanced back up to you at your words. Without a second thought, you drew his face close to yours and pressed your lips against his. You felt him gasp against your lips as you closed your eyes and deepened your kiss. His eyes soon fluttered shut, surrendering to you completely, moving his hands to pull you closer. You slowly pulled your lips away, your heart racing in time with his. You rubbed his cheek as he relaxed under your touch, “You’re everything I could ever need or want, Lester. You’re my home and I love you.”

Lester beamed at your words, his smile putting all the constellations in the sky above you to shame. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he was so happy he could cry all over again. He could ask why you love him. He could argue a million ways how he wasn’t nearly good enough. He could pretend he didn’t feel the same to spare you the imposition of his presence. But what a waste that would have been. Who was he to question your word? You never, ever lied to him before. You said you loved him and so he believed you wholeheartedly.

“I love ya too, Y/N.” Lester told you, pulling you into his arms, trapping you against his chest, “I love ya so much more than I ever loved anythin’. And I’m gonna spend every day tryin’ to do right by ya. I swear.”

“Can we stay here a little longer?” you asked, never wanting to leave this moment behind.

“Forever and then some, if ya like.” Lester said, brushing some hair from your face.

You stayed like that for a while, cradled in his arms. Eventually, you both shifted your gazes to look out on that stretch of highway. This was beginning to become your favorite place in the world too. You watched as each car sped by, headlights like shooting stars within your grasp. You wondered if someday, in the distant future, it might be you and Lester driving past new lovers in old ghost towns like this. Rolling down the highway with only one destination in mind: forward.

[inthelonelycoolbeforedawn]

tw: mentions of past animal abuse (nothing graphic and not portrayed in the fic itself)

Harringrove April Day 10: Peaches

Steve couldn't contain a smile as he stepped out onto the deck. Billy was sprawled in their double lounge chair, sunglasses on, Lemmy and Cookie flopped next to him.

"Hey," Steve said. "You gonna sleep all day?"

"Got bored waiting for you." Flashing a grin, Billy hooked his arm around Steve's waist and tugged. "C'mere. Celebrate with me."

"Nuh-uh," Steve said, planting one hand on the chair to regain his balance. "Dogs in the house, then I'll celebrate with you."

Billy heaved a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Hurry up."

Laughing, Steve called Lemmy and Cookie inside and slid the door shut. He felt a bit guilty about disturbing their nap, but he and Billy hadn't had much time to themselves in the last couple of weeks.

Besides, they had a lot to celebrate.

After eight years in L.A. they were both ready for a change. They weren't sure exactly what they wanted, but when they found a house away from the city on three acres of land, with a big yard for the dogs and an easy drive to the beach, they decided to buy it. They cashed in their savings and the last bit of settlement money from Starcourt, signed the papers making the house theirs, and officially moved in two days ago.

"Sorry, guys," he said, scratching the silky black-and-white fur between Cookie's ears. "We'll make it up to you. You want some treats?"

Both Lemmy's and Cookie's ears perked up at the word treat. But where Lemmy's bright eyes and barely wagging tail were his only indications of excitement, Cookie was practically bouncing up and down on her three legs, her entire body wriggling. Steve laughed and gave them both another pat before reaching for the box of dog biscuits.

A flash of movement by the window caught his eye, and his grip on the box instinctively tightened as he looked out to see what it was.

There was a small brown-and-white pony in their driveway, its thick mane flopping into its eyes as it snuffled at the ground.

Steve watched it for a minute, then went back to get Billy. "Um, Billy? Come see this."

Billy pulled his sunglasses off. "What?"

He hurried after Steve, and Steve pointed out the window.

"The hell?" Billy said.

"We should try to catch him," Steve said. "He could get hit by a car or something if he's running around loose like that."

"Yeah," Billy said. "I guess we can get him tied up somewhere and call animal control."

They went out the side door so they were ahead of the pony. It ignored them, taking a few steps and dropping its head again to mouth at some weeds.

"Here, uh - " Steve frowned. "Boy? Girl? Horse? Here, horsey, nice horsey."

"It's not a dog," Billy said. "Let's just try grabbing him. He doesn't look very fast."

They took a few cautious steps towards it. The pony lifted its head, nostrils flaring, but didn't move.

Steve and Billy inched closer.

The pony snorted and broke into a trot. Steve and Billy lunged for it, but that made it run faster. They stopped so they wouldn't chase it onto the road and watched it.

"Maybe he's hungry," Billy said. "Do we have anything he would eat?"

"Oh, yeah!" Steve spoke louder than he'd meant to. The pony looked up and moved farther away. "Oops." Lowering his voice again, he continued. "Carrots. I think horses like carrots. Go get them, babe." 

Once Billy returned with their longest dog leash and a bag of carrots, they each took one.

"Here, pony," Steve said.

"You hungry, little guy?" Billy said.

The pony looked at them, tail swishing.

They crept towards it, getting closer than they had before. The pony was watching them intently.

"Nice pony," Steve said, almost whispering. "Who's a good pony?"

"Steve," Billy said, his own voice quiet. "Go right."

They split off, approaching the pony from both sides. The pony stomped its foot but didn't move. They were almost close enough to grab it.

Holding his breath, Steve stretched his arm out a little farther. The pony snorted again, then reached out to take the carrot from his hand. Billy grabbed its halter while it was chewing.

"Got you," he said.

The pony flinched and quickly backed up a couple of steps, but when Steve grasped the other side of its halter, it stopped and stood, trembling.

"Hey, it's okay," Billy said. "You're okay."

"Good pony," Steve said.

Slowly and carefully, they looped the leash through one of the halter rings and secured it with the clip.

Now that it was caught, the pony seemed willing to follow them. They led it to the deck and tied the leash around a post.

Steve gave the pony a tentative pat on the neck. "One of us should probably stay here. Keep an eye on him."

"I will," Billy said. "Just, maybe grab some water for him? And the carrots?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "All that fur, he's probably thirsty."

Billy grinned. "You know, he reminds me of Henderson, with all that hair in his eyes."

"He does not look like Dustin," Steve said, although he secretly agreed.

He retrieved the bag of carrots, then filled a big cooking pot at the kitchen sink and managed to carry it outside without spilling any. The pony stood quietly as Billy worked at a tangle in its shaggy mane.

"Wow," Steve said. "He's really calmed down."

"Yeah," Billy said.

"Well." Steve paused, not sure why he suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong. "I'm gonna go call. I'll be back soon."

Lemmy and Cookie crowded around him, and he petted them absently as he flipped through the phone book.

"It must have an owner," he said. "I bet it belongs to some little kid who'll be really happy to see their pony again, right, guys?"

Cookie licked his hand and Lemmy's tail beat against the floor.

Steve sighed. "Right."

He lifted the receiver and dialed the number for animal control.

A few phone calls later he headed back outside. He found Billy sitting in front of the pony, stroking its nose, a soft smile on his lips. The pony's head was lowered almost to his lap, its eyes half-closed.

It reminded him of the times he'd come home to find Billy and Lemmy, napping or reading or watching TV, Billy's hand resting on Lemmy's scarred side and Lemmy's massive, brindled head resting on Billy's scarred chest.

He stood there a minute, watching, before sitting down next to them.

Billy glanced over. "I gave him more carrots. Guess he's happy."

"Yeah, looks like," Steve said. "Oh, and uh, it's actually a girl horse. Her name's Peaches."

"Peaches?" Billy repeated. "Figures it'd be something stupid."

"I don't know, it's kind of cute," Steve said.

Billy stopped petting Peaches and turned to face him. "So. I guess that means you found her owner?"

"Yeah." Steve picked at the hem of his shorts as he spoke. "Animal control said there was a missing horse reported, and put me in touch with her, and - anyway, she's coming to pick her up."

"Oh." Billy looked away. "That was fast."

They sat in silence until the dogs barking and tires crunching on the driveway alerted them to Peaches' owner's arrival.

Steve squeezed Billy's hand, then got up to greet her. He came around the corner of the house just as a young woman climbed out of a pickup truck with a trailer attached, holding a halter and a thick, neatly coiled rope.

"Hi," the woman called. "I'm Nina. I'm here for Peaches."

"I'm Steve." He shook hands with her, then gestured towards the yard. "She's out back."

"So, you're new here?" Nina said as they walked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "We just moved, actually. How'd you know?"

"It's been empty for a while." She smiled. "I drive this way a lot. Our place is only a couple miles from here."

Billy was still sitting with Peaches when they rounded the corner, but he stood up when he saw them. Steve hurried to his side as Nina introduced herself to Billy, then turned to the pony.

"Peaches!" she said. "Hi, sweet girl. Oh, you scared us."

She gave the pony a quick once-over. Satisfied, she clipped the rope to Peaches' halter and handed the dog leash to Steve.

"Thank you for taking such good care of her," she said with a warm smile. "We were worried sick when she got loose. She's had such a tough time, poor girl."

"What happened?" Steve asked.

Nina's smile faded, her lips tightening into a thin line. "Her last owners weren't very nice to their animals. She developed back problems and couldn't be ridden anymore so they just threw her out in a pasture and left her to fend for herself. Luckily someone called us before it was too late."

"She's a rescue?" Billy said softly.

"Yes," Nina said. "Honestly, I'm surprised she let you catch her. She's still skittish around strangers." She patted the pony's shoulder. "She must like you two."

"Well." Steve ran a hand through his hair. "At least she's safe now, right?"

"Oh, she'll for sure have a home with us if she needs it," Nina said. "But we're a horse rescue. New horses are always coming in and space can be a problem. So ideally our goal is to get all our animals adopted out." She gave Peaches' shoulder another pat. "It might be difficult to find a good home for Peaches, though. She's a sweetheart, but most people want a horse they can ride."

Steve glanced at Billy, who was fidgeting with his ring and staring somewhere past Nina, jaw clenched.

"Hmm." Steve tried to sound casual, fighting to hold back an eager smile. "You know, I think I might know a place."

*

Steve and Billy stood at the fence, arms crossed over the top board, watching Peaches graze while Lemmy and Cookie frolicked in the far corner of the pasture.

Nina had agreed to let them adopt Peaches on the condition they volunteer at the rescue to learn how to take care of her properly. Nina, her family, and the other volunteers were glad to help with everything from answering questions to building the fence and a small barn on their property. They'd made several new friends by the time they were ready to bring Peaches home.

She'd settled in quickly, making friends with the dogs and spending her days grazing and playing. She loved being groomed, and Steve had teased Billy a few times about him spending more time on Peaches' hair than his own now.

Steve and Billy had settled in too. They'd used some of the extra land to plant a garden. Steve converted the garage into a woodworking shop and with a bigger space to work in, he started experimenting with larger pieces. Billy still surfed whenever he could. They took the dogs to the beach and discovered a few new favorite restaurants. It was everything they'd hoped for when they bought the house.

"I was talking to Mrs. Cooper today," Billy said, breaking the silence. "Her goats are having their babies, and I guess there's a lot of them this year. She said we could have a couple if we want."

"Goats?" Steve was so surprised he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Yeah," Billy said. "We've got room. They'd be buddies for Peaches, and we could sell goat milk and stuff eventually."

"Huh," Steve said. "Goats." He shrugged. "Why not?"

Billy grinned. "Great. I'll tell her we'll take 'em."

Steve grinned back, and surrounded by their dogs and their pony and their own happily-ever-after, he and Billy kissed in the soft spring twilight.

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Bewitched ——————————————-

The adventures of Theodore continue. Figuring out how he feels about what he saw in town is... well. Difficult. But he’s gotta make a decision sometime. Featuring fun times with his siblings and a not-so-fun time with his parents. 

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————-

i am once again cutting chapters up, but that’s ok!!! i’m having fun and getting to write these dynamics is rlly interesting! hopefully the next one’ll be a lil shorter, but we’ll see X] in the meantime, here’s this!

and uh, warning for journal getting into a fight with his parents (nothing physical, but there’s some gaslighting to be mindful of) 

The sun shone brightly down on the farm, a light breeze rustling the remains of cornstalks in the field. The wagon- still half full of harvest- was parked next to the barn. A thick cloth blanket kept its cargo protected from the elements. At least, mostly. The horses in the nearby pasture eyed the visible corn wistfully. But besides the horses, crops, and breeze, not much was moving outside. The morning chores were long done. Now was the time for relaxing and play. From the giggling and shouting from the barn, a certain group of siblings was taking advantage of that. Up in the hayloft, Theodore and his younger siblings were fooling around. The twins were wrestling in the loose hay, and Elise was busy trying to climb up one of the support beams. Theodore had draped himself across another beam, square over the middle of the loft. His eyes flicked cautiously towards the edge every so often- but he’d be ok. He’d fallen and tumbled into the hay enough to know it would catch him much gentler than the barn’s dirt floor. He had other things to focus on at the moment, anyway. A beat up journal sat in front of him, chock full of loose papers and ink-stained scraps. They stuck out the sides and from under the cover. With all the story ideas, memories, and thoughts crammed into it, it was a wonder the book was still together. He’d have to get a new one soon. But for now, his quill scratched away at the page before him. He’d been working hard on recording every detail he could about the other day’s encounter. He felt as if he’d seen something precious- something more astounding than any legend- and he refused to let it slip from his mind. Writing this down needed his undivided attention. Of course, his siblings thought otherwise. “Hey, Theo! Y’all gonna come down from there?” Nilo called, arm locked around Tyler’s neck. Tyler squirmed and pushed at him playfully. “I think Tyler could use yer help!” “Naw, I do not! Yer about ta need ‘em though!” Tyler snickered. With a sudden jerk, the boy threw himself against the hay, sending Nilo toppling over his shoulder. The two laughed and jeered as they scrambled around, but Theodore didn’t pay them much mind. “Mmh, yea, uh, jus a sec,” he mumbled, eyes scanning over his work. He felt like he’d gotten the stranger’s routine written out ok. But he just couldn’t capture the strange smoke they’d been messing with. Not smoke, his mind muttered, magic. The word sent a zing down to his fingertips. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Last week, he would’ve firmly said bad. But now, he just… wasn’t sure. It honestly felt more like a thrill. As if he were staring down a wolf, but it was crouched and wagging like a playful dog. Oh, good simile, he thought, hastily scribbling it in the journal’s margins, I’ll have to use that somewhere later. He propped himself up on his elbows, glancing over the page. Almost full… would he have to cordon off a whole new section of his personal records for this? He wouldn’t mind, it was just… well, buying new ones could get expensive… A voice behind him knocked him out of his thoughts. “Hey, earth ta’ scribbles! Y’all alive?!” Theodore pulled a face- scribbles??? What???- glancing around for the offending speaker. Elise sat on a beam across from him, kicking her legs. Her smirk and little giggles confirmed it had been her. Theodore stared at her for a minute. “... what did y’all jus call me?” he asked. “Scribbles,” Elise snickered, “y’all like it?” “Aw- hell no,” Theodore snorted, shaking his head. He set his quill down, shifting to face her better. “Awful. Try again, lil lady.” “Well y’all weren’t answerin to theo!” she huffed. “Or theodore!” Tyler piped up from below him. Nilo nodded, picking bits of hay out of his hair. “Or anythin’ el- AUGH-” Whatever else he was going to say got lost as Tyler tackled him into the hay again. Theodore and Elise just exchanged a look. “If y’all’re gonna call me a nickname, call me somethin else,” he said. “Scribbles? C’mon, y’all can do better’n that.” “Hmm… m’kay,” Elise nodded slowly. “I think I got a couple ideas…” The corners of her mouth twitched mischievously. Theodore knew that look. Oh boy. How big of a mistake did I jus make? “How ‘booout… inky?” She said, blinking innocently as he tried not to smile. “Elise, tha’s even worse!” he replied. “Mmm alphabet soup?” she smirked. “Oh- revaew no-” Theodore guffawed, shaking his head. “Awful. Try again.” “Ah, I got it!” Elise clapped her hands together, grin as wide as a river. “Quillface!” Such was the name that broke Theodore’s composure. He lost it, clinging tightly to the beam below him to stop from falling off. Oh Revaew- yeah, he’d made a mistake alright. Nilo and Tyler quit tussling in confusion. Through teary eyes, Theodore could see them look to Elise for explanation. He couldn’t manage to get out more than a few wheezing “no, don’t-”s before her haughty grin passed its verdict. “Theodore’s new nickname is quillface,” she declared proudly. “QUILLFACE?!” Tyler shrieked, his shrilly voice dissolving into giggles. Nilo wasn’t too far behind, cracking a delighted smile. “I think it fits!” Nilo beamed. “It’s an attention grabber if I ever heard one!” “We- we oughta tell dean ‘n carrie-” Tyler wheezed. “Oh, of course! Everyone’s gotta know about Theo’s new name!” Elise grinned. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Theodore squawked, sputtering between bouts of laughter. He waved a hand to gather their attention, doing his best to breathe through his cackling. “Y’all are not gonna call me quillface, good revaew-” “Then what’dya want us to call you, huh?” Tyler teased. “Y’all gotta give us somethin to work with,” Nilo said. “I gave ya plenty’a options!” Elise chimed in, crossing her arms in mock offense. “Listen- y’all want a nickname? Fine, fine,” Theodore sighed. “Y’all can call me… uhh…” He glanced around for a moment. His eyes fell on his record book. He’d been needing a pseudonym for awhile now. And he… did like the idea of a writer-esque name mashed with “Drapht.” Something with a nice ring to it. Something like… He snapped, a bright grin rising to his face. “Journal!” he hummed, “y’all can call me journal.” “Journal?” Elise echoed, blinking. “... i mean, y’all were writin in that thing all mornin,” Nilo said. “And y’all’re what ya do, I guess,” Tyler shrugged. “Guess we should call you two punchy ‘n kicks then, eh? With all’a’y’all’s horseplay?” Theodore joked. The twins both clamored to protest, missing the obvious irony in the fact that they were still somewhat tangled up in the hay. And how they proved the point by dissolving back into tussling. Theodore settled back down on his beam, one foot dangling lazily. Yeah. That was about right. He reached for his quill, shifting to face his records once again. “Aw- c’mon, Theo! We wanna play!” Elise whined. He glanced over at her, a brow raised. “I’m here, ain’t I? I’m busy!” “Busy bein boring. What’re y’all writin in there thas’ so important anyway?” Elise huffed. Theodore opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his throat. Wait. Could he tell them what happened the other day? Should he tell them? His parents hadn’t said no, but… well… “... Journal? Hellooooo?” Elise called, waving a hand. He blinked, shaking himself back to reality. “What was that? Y’all keepin secrets?” “Uh- not- not exactly-” he stammered, trying to cover his tracks. But his smile was lopsided, and his jerky movements too obvious. Elise’s eyes glimmered eagerly. “Ohoho… y’all’re keepin secrets,” she grinned. “Elise- no-” “Nilo!!! Tyler!!! Yer brother’s keepin secrets!!!” she cackled. The twins looked up immediately, perked up like coyotes in a chicken coop. Oh revaew. With the three of them staring him down, he really had no choice. “... well… uh… oh, fine,” Theodore sighed. “Jus keep it quiet, m’kay?” “O’course.” “Wouldn’t think otherwise!” “Y’all can count on it.” “Ok, good.” Theodore glanced towards the barn doors. No movement. No sound. Just the breeze and the sun beating down on the dirt. When he looked back to his siblings, they were busy nudging and giggling at each other, eager as ever for storytime. Alright. Yeah. This was ok. Shifting to sit upright, he clapped his hands together. They all sat to attention, eyes gleaming and gazes fixed on him. “... so… y’all remember the other day we were at town? An’ we had to leave early?” Theodore started. When he got a nod, he continued. “Well, somethin’ happened at the town outskirts ta’ make ma ‘n pa freak out so bad. And I was there. Y’see, there was a stranger who blew in, an’ they were doin somethin’ real interestin at the edge’a town...”

~~~

The sun had moved across the sky, almost right atop the barn, before movement reigned again. The twins burst out of the barn with fistfuls of hay, shouting as they tossed them at each other. Theodore was still up in the hayloft with Elise- she was having trouble getting down from the beam. Theodore tucked his journal into its little nook in the wall, setting the loose boards back into place. Elise was still chattering about his story as he turned towards a pile of bales. “-and mom jus yanked ya all the way back ta the cart?” she was asking, eyes wide. “Mhm,” Theodore nodded. He grunted as he tugged a bale of hay over. Scrambling on top of it, he reached up for his sister’s hands. “She was madder’n a trampled rattler. ‘M really not sure why, though. The stranger wasn’ hurtin nobody.” “Yeah, but… they were a magic user,” Elise said hesitantly. “Ma ‘n pa said they’re bad, right?” She shimmied her way down into Theodore’s arms. He let out a soft “oof” as she dropped, but he got her to hit the hay softly. “That… yeah, that’s what they say,” Theodore admitted. “... just… I dunno. I don’t think somethin so intricate ‘n beautiful could be that bad. Ma ‘n pa didn’ say people could do stuff like th’ stranger did with magic. They jus said it’ll make ya inta a lazy monster. I doubt someone lazy would be doin alla those flips.” “And yer sure ya didn’ see any claws or fangs?” Elise asked. He nodded without a thought. “I didn’ see nothin,” he assured her. “But- well, we don’ need to think too hard about it. They’re gone now. I jus thought it was neat.” “Fair ‘nuff,” Elise shrugged. She grabbed a fistful of hay on her way towards the ladder, humming happily to herself. Theodore followed after her, waiting at the top as she climbed down. She looked up at him once her feet hit the floor. “Y’all better hurry down ‘re yer gonna miss the fun this time!” she hollered, waving her handful of hay. Theodore laughed, carefully maneuvering himself over the ladder. “I will, I will! Jus gimme a minute!” he called back. “Scaredy cat!!!” Elise jeered. “Y’all wouldn’ say that if ya fell off the loft like I have!” he shot back. Taking a breath, he stuck one leg off the loft, feeling for the ladder. He didn’t move again until he had a good foothold. He slid himself down to get his hands around the sides, grabbing on tight as his other foot fumbled for the wooden slats. Only once his whole weight was held did he exhale. He sat there for a second just to make sure. Good. Ok. He was ok. Now he just had to scurry on down. All was going well until a sharp voice cut through the cheerful laughs outside. Theodore didn’t notice it at first. He was too busy lowering foot after foot, hand after hand, not wanting to take his eyes off the ladder. Almost down, almost down. He had this. Or, he thought he did. “THEODORE SHERMAN DRAPHT!” The name- his name- was bellowed loud enough to snatch his attention away from the ladder. His head whipped up, body tensing up enough to jerk his grip off of the wood. For one terrifying second, gravity seemed to drag his body away. Theodore’s hands shot out like lightning, snatching the wood so hard he knew he’d given himself splinters. But he didn’t care. He was too busy wondering what he’d done. He glanced skittishly toward the barn doors. A shadow darkened them, hands settled on hips, shoulders hiked up and tense. He knew that pose. Just like he knew the shout that followed it. “THEODORE, GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!” Ah. His mother. Theodore felt his stomach settling like a rock in the sea as he hurriedly finished his descent. Oh revaew. What happened now?

Theodore stood in his parents’ room, spine straight and hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders were squared, and he dared not reach his twitching fingers up to smooth his hair down. Even if the rather rough trip in here skewed it all over. And sorting it out would soothe him. He couldn’t move. His father’s disapproving gaze was more paralyzing than any snakebite. That, and he was just trying to last in the burning fury of his mother’s berating. “-came out to see Tyler and Nilo throwing hay at each other with some- some- dirty sorcerer’s words- trying to practice magic on my farm-” she was spitting, gaze searing as a brand. He squirmed a bit, doing his best to keep his eyes on her. It was hard. His gaze flitted across the room every time her voice raised. And when she was angry, she always spoke loud. He waited until she took a breath to pipe up. “I’m- I’m sorry, ma,” he tried, “I didn’ think it’d be a big deal-” “Of course you didn’t,” his mother snapped. “You don’t think about anything.” He winced at that, unable to keep his gaze from skittering to the floorboards. That’s- that wasn’t true. He did think. He’d dithered over telling his siblings for at least a day or two. Even now, he’d only told when they found him out. His fists clenched as his mother continued. “What have we told you about how dangerous magic is?! About how not to let it spread?!” “I- y’all said it’s bad fer us,” he mumbled, “bad fer everyone, a-an we should stay away.” “Exactly. An’ that shoulda been the end of it,” his mother snarled. “So why in the hell were y’all tellin yer siblings about what y’all saw in town?!” “I- it didn’- I jus- they- w-we were jus-” “What’ve we told you about thinking your sentences through before you speak?” his father sighed. Theodore clamped his mouth shut. Think, don’t just stammer, y’all oughta know better, he chided himself. He took a shaky breath, trying not to focus on how his mother’s foot tapped, and his father’s fingers drummed. Eventually, he forced his eyes to meet theirs again. “It… It didn’ look like magic t’me,” he explained slowly. “There was nothin threatenin. I didn’ even realize it was magic till the stranger said so.” “You… didn’t realize it was magic?” his mother echoed, disbelief dripping off her tongue. “N-no, ma’am,” he mumbled. He felt his cheeks grow hot as she scoffed. “Like- Like I said, I didn’ see anythin scary, ‘er any’a the stuff you’n pa said to look out for.” No darkness. No laziness. No monsters. No traps or snares or brambles. Nothing like what they’d been drilling into him since he could crawl. Just someone having fun flipping around and making towers of golden smoke. Which, yeah, that was magic. He believed it. But why in Revaew’s wide world did their description of “magic” not line up? Not one thing they’d told him to sniff out magic had helped him in town. It wasn’t even remotely scary. What right did they have to drag him from a danger that wasn’t even there? A thought popped hastily into his head. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Have y’all even seen magic for yerselves, anyway?” Theodore’s hand ached to swipe up and cover his mouth. He wanted those words back. He wanted them back now. It was a good question- the right question- but with the way his parents’ faces flickered from incredulous to outraged... Shit. He needed to watch himself. “Have we- have we ever- ever seen-” his mother sputtered. “Theodore, that’s not your place to ask,” his father said harshly. “We’d know magic when we see it. It looks like what we’ve told you. End of story.” “But- but that’s not what I saw!” Theodore blurted. He cursed himself again, but he needed the words out. “I saw somethin’ that was pretty ‘n careful ‘n delicate, nothin like lazy destruction or evil monsters! Y’all- y’all saw what they did too, magic isn’t like that!” “It is like that, and it is what happened in town,” his father insisted, scowl deepening. “You were there, Debora. You saw it yourself.” “I did,” she nodded, “and it was jus as nasty as I thought. The sorcerer musta done somethin to our eyes so it seemed different, that’s all.” Theodore’s train of thought hit a snag in the tracks. Wait. Their eyes? What? Where did that factor in? They were just doin’ smoky tower magic, nothin happened to our eyes. They didn’ even do magic in our direction. He opened his mouth to protest, but his mother cut him off. “Revaew, look at em- that daggum filthy wizard has- has bewitched our son,” she spat. She swept her hand in his direction, earning a flinch and a step back. “He ain’t seein any sense! What’re we gonna do with ‘em?!” “... give him time, Debora,” his father said. “Spells don’t last forever.” He hadn’t moved, arms still crossed and gaze still harsh. But there was a menacing glimmer in his eye. The second he saw it mirrored in his mother, he felt as if the room became an icebox. A beat of silence passed. Theodore swallowed down more words that bubbled up, watching as his parents exchanged a look. He stood stock still and quiet. If you asked him later, he’d say he could swear he felt frost climbing up his legs. “... y’all’re not ta speak of magic again,” his mother finally said. “Not so long as y’all live in this house.” “Not to your siblings, your friends, yourself, anyone,” his father added. “Magic- all magic- is a curse. If we see y’all spreadin around that sorcerer’s hex again, yer gonna be worse than grounded,” his mother said curtly. “Understood?” Though his mind churned and bucked, crying mutiny and injustice, Theodore forced himself to nod. “Ya swear it?” his mother pressed. “I… I-I swear it,” Theodore choked out. As the words left him, the tension in his father’s shoulders eased, and his mother’s brow smoothed. Approval at last. He tried to ignore the frozen bile in the back of his throat. “We gotta talk to yer siblings still, but yer free ta go,” his mother said. “Remember what we talked about, Theodore,” his father warned. “I... I will, pa. Don’ worry,” Theodore mumbled. He couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

Nilo, Tyler, and Elise all stood against the wall in the hallway. Though their faces begged for reassurance, he couldn’t meet their eyes. He just let his feet carry him through the house, gaze glued to the floor. When he opened the door, it was glued to the grass. Then the dirt path. Then the floor of the barn. Though his body shook with barely acknowledged fear, he clambered up the ladder and back into the loft. It was only when he tucked himself into a dark, high corner that he finally let himself think. Questions swirled and lashed in his head, each more pointed than the last. Why couldn’t he tell people about what he saw? Why didn’t the magic look like they said? Why did they insist his eyes were wrong? Why had his mother called him bewitched when he tried to say they were wrong? Did they even know magic at all? Were they trying to hide things? He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t have answers, and the more he thought, the more frustrated he got. By the time he felt tears trickling down his cheeks, he knew he had to make some kind of decision. Even if the idea scared him. Taking a shaky breath, Theodore scrubbed the tears from his face. He unfolded himself from the corner he’d crammed himself in. Dropping lightly to the hay, he strode over to his hidden nook. The floorboards creaked under his hands as he reached for his journal. The beat up cover looked ready to fall apart. But it’d persevered this long. It still held so much precious knowledge. It could still hold more. Just like him. Theodore sat down in the middle of the loft, scribbling away once again. Though this time, an air of purpose surrounded him. A flame of determination lit his thoughts, illuminating the words on the page. If his parents weren’t gonna tell him the truth about magic, he’d find it out himself. ‘Anyone can use magic, kid,’ the stranger’s words echoed. ‘Even you. You just gotta dig for it.’ Dig is just what I’ll do, Theodore thought. I had a bad landin. Not so much on my feet. But I can learn. I will learn. And I’m gonna hit the ground running.

[marilynsweet]

WITCH AU: The Witch's House

Didn't realize I forgot to post this! So I bring you this, part 1 of 3 for the history between Asriel and Frostbite in the Witch AU.

I'm putting it under a read more because it's long--

Feedback is very much appreciated!!

Asriel woke to a splitting headache and a fuzzy vision.

A groan escaped his lips, and he reached a hand up to grip his head. He ached, why did he ache?

He was suddenly aware of something tied around his neck and wrists, making his heart sink into his stomach.

Was he..?

Asriel shot upright, holding his wrists before him.

Bandages. They were just bandages.

He let out a sigh of relief, though dizziness from sitting up much too fast made him lie back down.

The air smelled of warm cinnamon and a campfire, with the sound of clattering glass coming from the other room.

Asriel stared up at the ceiling, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where he was. Was he home? No… that ceiling wasn’t the color of his bedroom. He didn’t have herbs hanging from the ceiling…

Wait… why were there herbs hanging from the ceiling?

He finally took a moment to draw in his surroundings.

Upon shelves were crammed books, jars, and small ornate boxes. Shelves lined the walls like support beams. Plants hung from the ceiling in bowls, tied carefully into roped hangers. A thin sheet was pinned above the doorway, blocking his view into the other room. He lied on a bed, handcrafted, and covered with heavy fur blankets. Candles were lit around the room, an assortment of colors. A window was uncovered next to him, allowing a soft autumn breeze into the warm room. A book lie closed on a table against the wall, in front of a small, closed ornate box. Surrounding the book was an assortment of colored candles, and a small statue of what looked to be a woman with a staff. In front of that table was a pillow on the floor.

He could hear humming.

Asriel slowly slid off the bed, feeling a rug beneath his feet. He took a few steps towards the door, off of the rug and onto cold floorboards.

They creaked loudly under his weight, and the humming stopped.

“I wouldn’t recommend doing that if I were you. It’d be in your best interest to lie back down before you irritate your head more; wouldn’t want your neck to break, would we?”

He froze at the voice that came from behind the sheet, eyes narrowing. Where had he heard that voice before? It was so familiar...

“I didn’t stutter.”

Asriel took a few steps back, eyes narrowed, towards the bed.

Once he was away from the door, a figure stepped through, brushing the sheet aside. Asriel gasped when he recognized the small figure that stepped through.

“You!”

The woman, shorter than he - only about as tall as his waist - had stepped past the sheet and into the room. Granted, he was tall in the first place, but still. She had long hair the color of autumn leaves, with eyes of amber to match. Her cheeks were freckled. She was a Fox-monster, with a long, fluffy tail that brushed against the ground. Her fur was white, save for some black markings along her shoulders, and some orange on her ears and tail.. She wore a piece of fabric, crafted into some form of necklace, around her neck, in the center of which was tied a gemstone. Another gem was tied around her neck by a long black string. She wore a long, sleeved white shirt, which ruffled at the bottom, and a black cloak, the shoulders of which were missing. She wore a leather corset around her waist, black pants, and long, leather boots. One of her arms was gloved.

“Yes, me.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I saved your life, or have you forgotten?”

Asriel’s eyes narrowed at the woman.

“I still recommend you sit, Asriel.”

“You… I know you! You’re from the village!”

“I’m not from the village, per se,but I have been there for the last few months. When you hear rumors of people impersonating you and being hung for crimes they didn’t commit, you’re bound to investigate.”

The woman walked towards one of the shelves, investigating a plant that sat upon it. Her tail flickered under her long, black cloak. Asriel absorbed her words for a moment.

He’d seen her around before, usually petting an animal along a farm gate, or sitting in a church pew. He’d seen her buying things from the merchant, feeding wandering chickens, and speaking with other shop owners. He had never seen her on a farm of her own. Rumor had it that she lived on the edge of town. She had never dressed like this, either.

“Impersonation… nobody’s…”

Then, it clicked.

“YOU’RE A WITCH!” He cried out, almost angrily.

“I am,” the woman answered coolly, not turning to look at him.

“A worshiper— no, a whore of the Devil! You’ve come to sacrifice me! Or— make me sign his book-!”

A sudden thud made Asriel stop. The woman had turned to face him with a fury in her eyes he hadn’t seen on anyone before, not to him. In her hand, the hilt of an ornate dagger. The blade was stuck into the shelf she had been standing at just moments before.

“I don’t whore over any Devil,” she hissed, fangs bared into a snarl. Her voice was low as she approached him. Asriel stepped backwards, tripping back and falling onto the bed.

“I worship the Earth I walk upon, and the deity who provided us with it. Mother’s remedies saved your life, Dreemurr. Your lot simply cries witchcraft and Devil worship for things you don’t understand, like the remedies of plants provided to us and the magic that is our surroundings. Religious zealots like yourself have torn Mother’s roots up and replaced them with pastures and more land than you will ever need. You burn her trees and ruin her hills with nothing in return, instead putting your false idol before she who gave you everything.

How fair is it that your greed, your people, have begun to ruin the land of Mother? For what? Divine intervention? Someone must claim these lands as their own, someone must show off the grandeur that is the new order, who escaped persecution, yet made their own in the process? Persecuting what you don’t understand, and shrieking that those who are different are witches, sentenced to die for refusing confession? You’ve just been using it to be rid of the neighbors you dislike! Not to mention how flawed your religion is! What, you’re superior to others because of how much gold lines your pockets, and what lies between your legs? Mother cares not for damned minerals like gold and silver. Mother doesn’t care your sex, who you love, or what wealth you have.

I may be a witch, but not in your terms. I may dance around fires, may practice spells and potions, but never in the name of any Devil. I’m not scared of you, Dreemurr, not what you claim to be able to do. I’m not scared of your God, nor his wrath. Men simply created this ‘God’ to make others bow to them. Show me any real proof that your God exists! That he wrote those ‘sacred texts’ in that book you love so much!

Did your God ever help you when you were swinging from that damned rope? Did his followers give you any mercy? Did he save an innocent man from the shrieks of attention-seeking little girls? No. You’re appalled by my laughter at your prayer, but how can I not? It’s ridiculous!”

Asriel was speechless, mouth agape. She was practically on top of him, now, having moved closer in her fury. Their noses could have touched, and he could see the fire behind her eyes. Her teeth remained bared; sharp fangs that could tear flesh like paper.

She suddenly huffed, sitting upright and walking over to the shelf. She brushed off her front, ears twitching on top of her head. She yanked the knife from the shelf, turning it in her hands.

“Mother told me to save your life,” she stated. “She told me: This one has potential. There’s goodness in him. I’m inclined to believe her. But boy, you do not make it easy.”

Turning back to him, she pointed the knife at his chin.

“Should you try anything, should you try to harm this house or that which I worship, Mother gives permission for me to defend her with my life. There’s a reason I’m the Guardian of this forest.

I’m setting some ground rules. There is to be no more accusations of Devil worship. You will not berate me for what I practice, and you will not under any circumstances reveal my location to any member of the village. Do you understand me?”

The flat side of the knife pressed against his chin, lifting his head. Asriel nodded, eyes narrowing.

The woman removed the blade from his chin, tucking it into a sheath inside her corset.

“Good. Then, let’s start, shall we?”

She reached out a hand to him.

“My name is Frostbite. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”

Asriel took her hand and shook it, watching as she stepped away from him.

“Your neck and wrists are still healing, I wouldn’t recommend moving much. Be easy if you do.”

“Why’d you pull me down?”

Frostbite perked up, turning back to face him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why’d you pull me down, if you despise me so?” Asriel asked, shifting so his legs were tucked on the bed.

Frostbite was silent for a few moments before shaking her head.

“I don’t despise you,” she muttered. “You were the only one who wasn’t killed; what was I to do? Leave you up there, suffocating?”

With that, she walked back into the other room, the sheet fluttering with her absence.

Asriel bit the inside of his cheek, watching her leave. She was… strange. She dressed so differently than he was used to, and she had such a demeanor about her that he hadn’t seen on a woman in years.

Confidence. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

Part of him admired her for that. And, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was now in her debt. He’d have suffocated to death if he hadn’t been cut down. The hangman’s rope didn’t break his neck, as it was supposed to.

“Guess I should be grateful for that…” he muttered, tucking his hands into his arms.

But where was he to go, alive? The village despised him, sentenced him to death as a witch, and likely wouldn’t be happy upon his return. Frostbite was probably the only person in miles who knew where anything was.

Thinking of the village… it brought up pain in him.

I wonder if Mother is alright…

Toriel, his mother, had fought tooth and nail against the townsfolk and the judges who had sentenced him. When he was taken to the noose, he hadn’t seen her among the crowd. He fully expected to hear she had fled to another town. He could only imagine the pain she was in.

I wish I could tell her I’m alive…

He glanced back to the door, swinging his legs off the bed. With as much silence as he could, he knelt onto the floor beside his bed.

He clasped his hands together in prayer, and lowered his head. He winced at the pain in his neck.

Let her know for me, please. Tell my mother I’m alive. Some way, somehow… tell her that she didn’t lose her son.

“I thought I told you not to move?”

Asriel was shaken from his prayer by the now-known voice of Frostbite. She was standing in the doorway.

“You’re not as good as you think you are at being sneaky,” she stated, walking back over to him and taking his hands. One of her hands was bandaged, he noticed. The other hand was smooth-skinned, and gentle. “I’m making food, you’ll be able to sit at the table then.”

“I want my mother to know I’m alive,” Asriel said, standing as she helped him up. “I—“

“Toriel?”

“You-?”

Frostbite let go of his hands.

“I know of her. She lent me cloth when I was in town,” she replied. “She wasn’t at the hanging.”

Asriel subconsciously rubbed the bandages around his neck.

“I don’t know what happened to her. I think she left.”

“She did. Something about being disappointed in the world she thought she knew. I can seek her out once you can be on your own,” Frostbite replied. “I have a good idea of where she went.”

“How..?”

“I’m much more observant than you think. All that time you saw me in the village, I was learning as much as I could about the accused and their families. Seeing what you deem as witchcraft. Your lot claims Devil worship and heresy as witchcraft; which makes sense, I guess, not much of what I believe in would be ‘Biblical.’”

Asriel shifted backwards onto the bed, leaning back against the wall.

“I’m making soup. Hope you don’t hate chicken,” Frostbite added. Asriel noticed her pick at the bandages on her hand.

“What’d you do to your hand?” He asked.

She was silent, and she stopped touching her bandages.

“...I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

With that, she quickly left the room.

After a short while and reading the countless book spines that lined the walls, he heard the thud of something on wood. Asriel perked up, looking over to the doorway. After a few moments, the sheet shifted, and Frostbite walked through.

“You didn’t move, good. I’ll get you some books or something; sorry it took so long,” she said, quickly walking over and offering him her hands. Again, he noticed the bandages when he took them.

“You’ve got an interesting selection here,” he said.

“No Bibles, sorry,” she said with the threatening of a smile. He rolled his eyes as she helped him to his feet.

When she led him into the next room, he was somehow not surprised at the contents. Plants, again, hung from the ceiling, either potted and flowering or hung to dry. A small wooden table sat to the right, while the kitchen was to the left. She had a small wood stove providing warmth to the room, with cabinets lining the walls around it with counters to match. On the table, a heavy-looking pot sat in the center, with two bowls laid out on either side of it. The front door had a small window in it, covered with a curtain.

Frostbite led Asriel to the table, encouraging him to sit. She took a ladle from one of the counter drawers, and set it next to the pot. When she took the lid off, Asriel was immediately wrapped in the delicious smell. It made his mouth water, and it was only then that he realized just how hungry he was. When was the last time he had a full meal?

“Help yourself,” Frostbite said, likely noticing the look on his face. She walked back over to the stove, pulling open the door in the front. From under it, she pulled out a piece of wood, and placed it into the small fire.

“I’ve got bread, too, and butter. I’m hoping you’re not sick of it,” she said, closing the oven as Asriel ladled soup into his bowl.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” He asked, watching her move about the kitchen.

“I will, in a minute. Don’t choke.”

She went outside, a cold draft permeating the room when the front door opened. It was quickly doused, though, when it shut.

It was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the wood stove, and he took the time to look up at the stairs. Wood, like everything else, and crafted delicately. Part of him wondered where she got all of these supplies. The other part wondered what was upstairs.

He shrugged, though winced when he moved his neck. While she was gone, he folded his hands in his lap, taking a small bow of his head.

“Usually, I say my prayers when I gather the ingredients. Your God didn’t make that soup.”

He was practically thrown out of his skin when he heard her voice again.

“Stop doing that!” He cried, watching Frostbite as she placed a dish on the counter. He could see the risen loaf inside, which she dropped onto a wooden board.

“Pay attention,” she replied coolly, taking a knife from a small chest on the counter. “Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be observant.”

Asriel, again, rolled his eyes.

“And be careful with your neck,” she added, cutting a few slices of the bread and setting them aside on the board. “Still healing. It’s only been two days.”

“I was out for two days?” Asriel asked incredulously, perked up. “How..?”

“I induced you into sleep. That way, you’d heal a bit faster.”

Frostbite approached the table and placed the small board onto the surface, next to the pot. Upon it were three slices of bread, and a small bowl with butter in it. By the look of it, it was churned recently.

“Did you make all of this yourself?” Asriel asked, watching as she sat across from him.

“Of course.”

“Alone?”

“Who else would be helping me? Eat. Your soup’s getting cold.”

Asriel took the spoon he was given in his hand, and took a bit from his bowl. Upon tasting it, he could practically feel the warmth running through him.

“This is delicious!” He exclaimed, and he noticed a small smile on Frostbite’s face.

“Thanks,” she said a bit sheepishly, and he could spot a flush of pink on her cheeks.

“So… you do everything yourself around here, huh?”

A small nod, and he noticed her stir her bowl with her spoon, not yet taking a bite.

“...You haven’t poisoned me, have you?” Asriel asked, and she snorted.

“And why would I do that?” She asked, lifting her head. “Poisoning you does you no good, and does me no favors. Why save your life just to poison you later?”

“Good point.”

He took another spoonful, watching as she finally did the same.

“So… what did you do to your hand?” He asked, noticing she had tucked it under the table. “The bandaged one?”

“...Burned it. Long time ago,” she murmured. “I don’t like to see the scars.”

“Oh…”

Of all the things he was expecting, that wasn’t it.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head.

“Not your fault,” she said, lifting her gaze from the tabletop. “Just… not used to talking about it. Don’t have many visitors. Just the goats and the chickens.”

“You have chickens?”

“They wander about, and I take their eggs. I don’t like to take too much of Mother’s land, but we’ve got to eat somehow. I’m told I take too little.”

“What’s upstairs?” Asriel asked, taking a slice of bread from the board.

“My room. Nothing much. Just a bed, some books. Some storage, I have a shelf with feed in it. It’s nothing special.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he added, to which she shrugged.

“I don’t like to live lavishly,” she muttered, again returning to stirring her soup. “It feels selfish of me.”

“If it’s laid out for you, why don’t you take advantage of it?” Asriel asked, moving to tilt his head. However, he was met with pain, and stopped.

Frostbite lifted her head, narrowing her visible eye.

“I’m not going to destroy the very forest I protect for the sake of material possessions,” she hissed.

Asriel raised his hands as a sign of peace.

“I’m just saying! If it’s there, why not?”

“Because I’m not selfish! I’m not going to take every bit of land I can get my hands on, and take more than I need!” Frostbite snapped, slamming her spoon on the table. “I have what I need to survive, and what wants I can spare. I don’t need acres of land for one person.”

“Okay- Okay! Fine!” Asriel huffed, lowering his hands to take another spoonful of soup. “I get it. Point taken.”

Frostbite’s ears twitched, and she continued to watch him. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of them for a long time. Asriel eventually took a piece of bread from the board.

“Butter?” Frostbite asked, sliding him the small bowl. “Promise, it’s not poisoned.”

Asriel snorted. At least she was trying to be humorous. “Sure, why not?”

The rest of dinner went by without incident. Frostbite wasn’t exactly the best at conversation, but Asriel was willing to excuse it. It didn’t seem she had many companions out here. She was amusing, and she smiled often, so he gave her that.

However, he lay awake that night, staring at the plants hanging from the ceiling. A stack of books lie on the nightstand next to him, an assortment Frostbite had given him as reading material. She had told him to lie on his back, neck propped up on pillows to irritate it less. Progress with the healing was being made; it wasn’t raw, anymore, at least. It still hurt to move his head too much, though.

He couldn’t stop thinking. It was so much different here than home. It felt like his worries could just melt away with the candle wax. Not to mention, he had a full meal. Something other than bread and water, and a filthy jail cell. Though, despite this, Asriel was still thinking of home.

Would Chara, Frisk, and his father be mourning him? The lack of a body to bury? Did the townsfolk still think him a witch? They must’ve; he had been hung for it. Still, he missed them. Would they pray for him? Would they aim to find his mother, and try to reconcile?

He thought about what to do. When he left here, he’d have to go back. Where else could he go? It wasn’t like he could stay here forever. Would they be shocked? Would they try him as a witch again? Would they hang him properly?

He shut his eyes tight, resisting the want to turn over onto his side. Frostbite had told him to lie back, so lie back he did.

He let his mind wander, losing himself to the dreams that began to lull him. Soon, he fell into sleep, the first peaceful one in a while.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Maze Trials: A Gally Fanfiction

Pairing: Gally x Emi (OC)

Summary: Emi, first girl the Glade has seen. Tougher than she looks and more than ready to prove it. Since day one her and Gally have been at each other's throats. Fighting constantly and not just with their words.

(Gally fanfiction which will include smut. It also has an actual story line. Think of it as an AU to the original Maze Runner. It'll mostly follow the main story line with some changes. Mostly focusing on Emi and Gally and their relationship.)

Chapter One

Cold, dark, and the sound of screeching metal.

I woke to this wondering where I was. How'd I get there? What is happening?

I could tell I was in some kind of metal container. I could feel the cold metal under my fingers as I felt around for some clue to my whereabouts. The only thing I found was a hog that scared me half to death when it suddenly squealed loudly. I could tell I was moving upwards. I slowly stood up in the darkness feeling around for anything and everything.

I was slammed back down when the container came to a screeching halt. I could hear distant and muffled voices above me. I strained trying to make out any words I could.

"Shut up and open the bloody thing!" A thick accented voice shouted as something above me opened.

I shielded my eyes from the sudden bright light that filled the small space. I felt the cage jostle. Someone had jumped inside with me. I peaked around my fingers the best I could. Thankfully the body before me stood shielding me from the sun. I could see that it was a big, muscular boy about my age.

"You shanks seeing this?" The boy in front of me asked the others staring down at me.

"It's a girl" the thick accented voice said.

I could hear voices quickly talking over one another. The boy in front of me bent down to make it easier for me to see his face. He was cute.

"I'm Gally, lets get you out of here." He gave me a small smile then extended his hand out.

I took it slowly allowing him to help me to my feet. Another boy with dirty blonde hair reached down to lift me out of the box. Once my feet were on solid ground again I instantly felt better. I took in my surroundings.

It was a large flat pasture of land with a small forest towards the back. Surrounding the place was massive stone walls. It was like some kind of prison. I noticed the people around me next. The first important note, I'm the only girl.

"What is going on?" I asked turning to face the group of boys.

"I guess you're our new greenie. Welcome to the Glade." Gally said with a sharp tone.

He turned away from me to help a few other boys pull everything else out of the box. I wasn't sure why Gally had went from being kind to being so sharp with me. I didn't do anything. At least I don't think I did.

"Follow me love I'll introduce you to Alby and we'll give you the tour." The thick accented dirty blonde boy said turning me away from the other boys.

"I'm Newt by the way" he said as we walked towards one of the make shift buildings.

"I'm... I'm..." I stopped walking.

Why can't I think of my name? I have to know my own name. What is it? Why am I drawing a blank?

"It's alright love. The same thing happened to all of us. You'll remember you're name soon." Newt smiled reassuringly at me.

I nodded still unsure but I continued to follow him. We walked inside the larger hut then straight to one of the rooms inside. Newt tapped lightly on the open door to get the older man's attention.

"Hey Alby, got the new greenie." Newt said lightly stepping inside to leave me standing in the door way.

Alby looked up at me but seemed to go into shock for a moment before snapping himself out of it.

"Well I'll be damned. It's been a year and a half and you're the first girl we've had come up in that box." Alby chuckled as he stood.

"I'm Alby leader of the glade. Newt here is my second in command." He walked over to me extending his hand.

I shook it then stepped back out of the room. Alby and Newt both walked out to stand in front of me.

"This building here is the homestead. My office is here and the Med-Jacks work upstairs. I figure I'll get Gally to make you up a room in here. Being the only lady here I'm sure you'll want some privacy." Alby's smile was warm.

"Let's get you acquainted with the place." Alby nodded for me to follow him.

I silently walked behind Alby and Newt as they showed me around the Glade. I could see most of the boys carrying items from the box in the distance. Alby took his time to tell me about everything before he went on to tell me the rules of the Glade. It was all simple enough but I still had so many questions.

Why are we here?

Who put us here?

Why am I the only girl?

Most of it just didn't make sense but I went along with it anyway. Maybe in time I'll understand better.

"I'll leave you with Newt. We have a big celebration tonight all in your honor. I'll see you then." Alby smiled, patted my shoulder, then walked off back towards the homestead.

"Since it's your first day we will start your jobs tomorrow. Each day you'll spend the day doing one of the jobs here until you find the one you're best at. Until then let's go grab Gally so he can get that room made up for you." Newt explained with a charming smile.

I followed the blonde again noticing for the first time that he walks with a limp. It was odd to see but I wasn't going to be rude and ask him about it. We stopped in front of a few of the boys. They were chatting and laughing at someone's joke.

"Hey Gally, Alby needs you to fix up a room in the homestead real quick for our greenie." Newt explained to the other boy who was a good two times bigger than the blonde.

"Are you serious? She too good to sleep in a hammock like the rest of us?" Gally asked harshly glaring in my direction.

"Come on Gally. She's the only girl. She's not gonna feel comfortable sleeping surrounded by a bunch of shanks like you." Newt said sharply.

Gally chuckled darkly as he took a step towards Newt. I could feel the sudden tension. Gally looked ready for a fight. Newt on the other hand looked like he'd be snapped in two easily.

"It's really not that big of a deal. I can sleep in a hammock." I said dryly towards both boys.

"See? I must not be that bad. Do I make you feel uncomfortable princess?" Gally asked sarcastically rolling his head to look at me.

"No, you make me want to punch you in the teeth." I spat back at him letting him know I don't scare that easily.

A few of the boys behind him chuckled but shut up instantly when Gally glared at them.

"You think you're tough greenie? We will see about that at the bonfire." He smiled before shoving past Newt and I.

"What is his problem?" I asked Newt.

"Not sure really. He's always been like that. Sometimes you can catch him in a good mood but the smallest thing can send him into a rage." Newt explained as we walked back towards the main living area of the Glade.

"I'll introduce you to everyone tonight at the bonfire. Until then why don't you head back to the homestead and try to help Gally?" Newt suggested.

I sent him a look saying 'you can't be serious'.

"Humor me" he chuckled nodding for me to go.

—

[blackroseaki38]

Team Awesome Prank War

Varian never really paid attention to getting people back for how they treated him or acted around him. Sure, now the villagers never did that anymore. In fact, they hardly ever approached him, which was completely fine with him. Varian didn’t need much, and certainly not their approval. He had his friends and his father, and is content with them. 

But, when Eugene glued his shoes to the ground to get back at him for the yelling prank, something inside of him awakened. A need for victory arose in him and it fueled Varian to get him back.

So much for being content.

---

Eugene knew Varian was just trying to get him to stop messing with his things when he scared him with his little yelling prank. Still, he couldn't help himself, he just had to get back at the kid. So, he glued his shoes to the ground, and loved it when Varian fell over when he tried to move. Though he had to admit to himself, that wasn't his best. Eh, it's not like he will need to get the kid back again anytime soon, so he will do better next time in the distant future.

Or so he thought till he got out of the shower and took a look in the mirror.

"AHHHHHHAAAAAAA!!!!" 

Eugene’s loud yell brought in Lance next door and the Captain himself who was passing by.

They both took a look at Eugene and couldn't keep their laughter contained, though Lance tried. Failed, but tried.

"Pfffttttt. Oh, hey Eugene! Um... Nice hair?"

"Pink's a good look on ya, Fitzherbert! Remember you're training the new trainees on criminal etiquette today. Haha,"

The Captain left chuckling all the way,  while Lance leaned against the doorway in tears from his now unrestrained laughter.

Eugene knew there could be only one person who could make his hair the ungodly pink color it was right now. He narrowed his eyes and said his name in a dark tone promising vengeance.

"Okay, Varian. It's on."

---

Varian woke up to find Rudiger wasn't in his bed anymore, but he wasn't too worried. He comes and goes through his window all the time. As long as he wasn't gone too long, he would just wait for him to come home.

But, then something fluorescent purple came through his window and Varian gasped in disbelief.

Eugene dared to dye Rudiger with the same potion he disguised as the shampoo. Lance helped him out by sneaking it in his friend’s room. Varian let the raccoon, who wasn't bothered too much by his new look, pounce on him as he laid tangled up his blankets. His body was not moving, but his mind was whirling with new ideas to get Eugene back. This was not a joke anymore, this was war!

Varian didn’t bother to try fixing his furry friend's purple fur. He designed the potion to fade away in a week and any tampering just made the colors get worse. He already has an idea in mind now and he will implement it.... as soon as Rudiger stopped purring and let him leave the comfort of his bed.

---

Eugene woke up to find his room full of apples and all kinds of animals eating them at their leisure. He let out a shriek and fell off the bed in surprise. Luckily, he landed on the ground, and not on one of the cute animals EATING HIS ROOM AWAY.

Someone took a literal pile of apples, leaves, and branches just to toss in his room?! And guess who has a farmer as a father? A certain alchemist! Hmmmmm.... this required more finesse than he had originally thought it would. Well, it would, once Eugene GOT THESE ANIMALS TO LEAVE HIM ALONE.

"Hey! I am not an apple! Stop eating my shirt! It's silk-NO! NOT THE LEATHER BOOTS!"

---

Varian silently ate his breakfast trying not let himself slip up, and admit what he did. His father was mystified on how someone literally stole the top half of his tree, branches, leaves and all!

It wasn't easy, the boy thought to himself as he recalled last night’s events. Using a temporary tree weakening potion, he was able to tear off most of the branches from one of the trees in their orchard without much trouble. An hour later, he snuck out of Old Corona to go to the castle. He used their wheelbarrow to carry the bag with a chunk of an apple tree in it. Lance ran into him on his nightly walk and helped him out cause he thought the whole prank war was funny. The animals that smelt the apple juice trail he left on the way there did the rest.

As soon as Varian finished his food, he left to go to his lab near home. He loved having the Demantius lab for his projects as well, but he didn't mind having a lab this close either, it made it easier to work near home. He only stayed in the other lab for important projects that took all his time and mainly used his lab in Old Corona for less explosive projects.

As he got into his lab, he grabbed one of his potions to plan to use for a prank when he noticed something was off about its color. Varian took a good look at his numerous shelves of tiny containers with all sorts of chemicals. Something was wrong here, he can’t put his finger on it- He let out a loud scream of horror.

"OH MY GOSH…! HE SWITCHED ALL MY LABELS! THAT TOOK ME WEEKS TO DO!"

Varian knew this would take him a long time to undo, he was already dreading the task. He would have to separate them all by color and then test them before relabeling them all. But, for now, he'll just have to make a fresh portion for his uses. He pulled down his goggles over his eyes and a smirk climbed over his face as he got to work.

"Hehehehehehhehe."

---

Eugene smiled as he looked in the mirror. No wrinkles in sight. He's been using this serum he got from Xavier to keep his skin great. Even though the older man told him it wouldn't help him much since he had nothing to worry about at his age, he still wanted to dab a bit of it on his face every morning... and night.

He dipped his fingers inside the oval container and spread the clear liquid on his face. And he went to sleep like a baby.

He woke up and took one look in the mirror and fainted on the spot

*thud*

Lance ran in when he heard the loud noise from his room. They've learned too often that any sudden noise could be a danger.

He paused though once he realized, no, there was no danger. Which was a relief, but now he had to keep from laughing too hard.

Ah, what the hay!

Lance chuckled at his friends previously smooth and perfect skin was now wrinkled like that of an old man's now. His luscious dark hair was a pale grey and barely covered his head. This was his friend's worst nightmare had come true! So he left the antidote Varian gave him, just in case, on the table next to the aging serum. He knew Eugene would be miffed anyway, so why make him suffer any more than needed.

Yet, he did leave a note that says, "Haha! The kid got 'ya good. Hope you don't let him one up a pro like you!"

Lance was sure the yelling he heard later that day was Eugene scheming. He shamelessly added more fuel to the fire, cause hey, this was fun to watch. Lance knew if he wanted too, he could join in any time he wanted to. But, knowing those two, someone was bound to get hurt and he does not want it to be him!

But, he didn’t mind sitting back and watching the fireworks erupt from the sidelines.

---

The castle was getting too uptight lately, nothing like a prank war to loosen things up!

Varian giggled as he read the message Lance sent him by carrier bird. He didn't mind that he gave him the antidote so early, but he didn't realize how frightened Eugene would be and ended up actually fainting

The boy walked into the pumpkin pasture to help his dad when he noticed his dad wasn't by the pumpkin patch, but was looking up at their house instead.

"Hey, dad. Whatcha looking at?"

"Well, son. I found the stolen apple tree, Though now it's part of our roof now. That poor tree. Who would do such a thing?"

Varian looked up and cringed as he saw the remains of the tree he hacked away scattered across their roof. Surely, if they didn't clean it up soon, animals will probably descend upon the food remains, like the crows were doing right at this moment.

Quirin sighed and got ready to climb up the ladder he positioned, but Varian stopped him.

"Dad, I'll clean it up. If you don't get started on the pumpkins, we'll be late for the harvest."

Quirin smiled, ruffled his son's head in a silent yes and got to work on the pumpkins. Varian grimaced and got to work. He spent his afternoon fighting the crows away and cleaning up the apple tree carnage. Rudiger helped, eating any apple bits that remained.

Someone giggled from the bushes near their home before leaving quietly.

---

Eugene smirked as he considered himself to be the winner since he hasn't been pranked in a few days now.

He walked into his room and there was a  platter of cookies sitting on his desk. They were shaped like his face and iced to his handsome likeness as well! Though the noses were a little long and pointy, well it's the thought that matters! Eugene spied a little note nearby, with a heart drawn on it! Of course, Rapunzel! Bless her little golden head of hair. The young man took a big bite out of a large-nosed Eugene cookie with a large smile.

"Mmmmmm, delicious! Though I better save the rest for later. I don't want to lose my slim figure. Wellllllll, a few more won't hurt. "

Eugene finished a few cookies before he finally put (hid) the rest away for later. He left his room humming a cheery tune on his lips.

"Hey, Eugene!" Pete called waving his hand as Stan tried getting his partner to calm down as they went on with their patrol.

"Hiya fellas!" Eugene replied, but like he couldn't stop himself, he felt like talking some more than a casual 'hiya' like usual.

"You guys know what, when I first moved into the castle, I was kinda jealous of how close you guys were. Pete and Stan! Never seen without each other. I was jealous because my buddy Lance wasn't with me yet. Ya know, I got over my envy once my best buddy rejoined my life, and realized I shouldn’t have been envious anyway cause you both are great guys!"

The two guards looked at Eugene wondering why he was sprouting his feelings so openly. The ex-convict wondered the same thing before he saw Lance come out behind them. He had tears in his eyes as he smiled.

"Really, Eugene? You really mean it? You really missed me that much?"

"Of course, buddy! You are my best friend! Well, you and someone else are pretty much my best friends. You've always been with me! Even when I was a jerk! I love being your friend so much that I can't help checking in on 'ya at least once a day. I don't want to lose you again! I'm always afraid you're gonna have enough of my idiotic personality and leave! Leave without saying goodbye!"

Eugene was freaking out! He was saying his deepest secrets and concerns to the world! The man dodged Lance's hug and tried leaving before he met someone else.

Instead, he accidentally barged into the throne room where everyone in town were trying to seek the King's council. They all looked at Eugene who just barged in. He tried backing out, but the concerned faces of Pete and Stan, plus happy Lance, blocked his way. Rapunzel approached the group. She placed her hand on Eugene's shoulder.

"Sweetie, is everything fine? You don't look so good."

Eugene wished he could just shut his mouth, but he couldn't stop talking his heart out.

"Rapunzel, I love you and you know that. But, when I first proposed to you, I wasn't doing it because I wanted to make us permanent. I did it because deep down, I'm always going to be afraid I'm going to lose you and the only kingdom that welcomed me in. I was sure you would eventually realize I didn't deserve you and leave! So, I kept trying to propose, each time thinking of our future, but also secretly securing my place in your heart and this family we made. If we ever broke up, I am sure our family will break as well. I love you and this family too much to let that happen!"

Rapunzel was looking emotionally happy and sad at the same time. Eugene didn't want to look at her and tried leaving through another door. But, he kept speaking as he looked at every family face he knew.

"Feldspar! I always loved your boots! Their leather always hugs my ankles just right and I don't trust anyone else to make my ankles look as amazing as they do in your footwear!"

"Old lady Crowley! I know I joke around a lot, but you remind me of the lady who raised me at the orphanage, which is why I ask you for advice once in a while!"

"Monty, Atilla! I love your guys' candy and baked goods! But, I always feel guilty about eating them because I'm worried my fine figure will be gone! They are just that good."

“Xavier, I appreciate the skin serums you made for me, but are you sure they work right? No matter how much I dab under my eyes, my eye bags continue to get worse! Let’s meet up for tea to discuss this before I’m old and grey!”

“Friedborg, you are amazing and don’t you ever let anyone say otherwise! You're secretly the key to why this castle is still standing. Without you in charge, I’m sure this kingdom would have fallen apart ages ago!”

"Max, Pascal. I love you guys, even if I may act like I don't care for you guys a lot. I enjoy my time with you guys and will always be by your side!"

Eugene kept trying to avoid people, this was getting out of hand, but it wasn't working since most of the town was here to ask or inform the king of something. Finally, he bumped into someone and felt the world spin less than before. Then he looked up and realized it was the King, with the Queen by his side.

"Eugene, are you okay?" The queen was deeply concerned. Fredrick was concerned as well, as he helped pull the young man up.

"Is something the matter, son?"

Eugene wished his big mouth would stay shut, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Everything is fine, except for the fact I can't keep myself from hiding my feelings forever. You guys helped bring my life from the dark. Sure, Rapunzel did most of it, but if you guys hadn't opened your home and kingdom to me, I wouldn't be the Eugene I am today. And though I know who my parents are now, you two will always hold a place in my heart. And I can't wait to be the best son in law once I and Blondie get married."

Eugene took a deep breath and turned around as the royal couple took in his words. The Captain opened his mouth to speak, but of course, Eugene interrupted him.

"CAPTAIN. I ALWAYS LOVED YOUR MUSTACHE. IT'S SO MANLY THAT MY GOATEE CAN'T EVER TOP YOUR FACIAL HAIR."

The captain was silent a little flabbergasted and a tad touched. Using this as a distraction, Eugene took the chance to escape. Finally, he was on the other side of the room at this point! He ran out into the courtyard, only to bump into Quirin and Varian unloading crates of apples and pumpkins for the castle. Eugene barely stops himself from running headfirst into the wooden cart.

"You okay there, Eugene?" Quirin asked. Eugene grabs him by his shirt.

"Sir! I love your apples. There are the apples of my eyes. Sometimes I wake up with apples everywhere! And animals. Lots of animals!"

Quirin just blinked in surprise as Eugene moved on to Varian.

"Kid, you're like the little brother I've never had. I love messing with you, even this prank war we've been having has been amazing. My hair is still this hideous pink hair, but I can't help smiling every time I see my own reflection. You looking up to me makes me feel important in your life. I still feel bad for not giving you enough attention in the past and where it leads you. I’m sorry for not being there for you! That’s why I’m here now! I want to make your life happier with me in it! Team awesome will always be important to me!"

Varian didn't know what to say. He was touched he felt these things about him and kind of felt guilty considering he drugged his newly proclaimed brother with truth serum laced cookies. Clearly, Eugene ate the cookies he left in his room, but he didn't expect him to be telling these kinds of truth. He must have had more than a few to be acting like this.

"Varian, what's this I hear about a prank war?" Rapunzel asks from the doorway from the throne room.

Varian nervously met the princess and his father’s eyes. They looked at the two boys in thinly veiled disapproval as the teen looked at the ground while the elder started telling Rudiger about how he isn't a pest and deserves all the kingdoms apples for being there for Varian. The raccoon agreed with him greatly, evidenced by his excited chittering.

"Ummmmmm... we may have been having a war of pranks this week. And it may have gotten out of hand. Eugene is probably under the effects of my truth serum cookies. But, I have the antidote right here!"

The teen looks through his bag for the vial of golden liquid while the king redirects all the people back to their court with him. The Captain made sure the door to the courtyard is closed.

Promptly, Varian pulled out a tube of golden-colored liquid. He swiped an apple from their cart, using his father's dullest blades (under his watchful eyes) to cut the apple in half. He poured a few drops on to one half of the fruit. Once he was sure there was enough antidote in the apple half, Varian offered it out to Eugene.

"Eugene, I'm sorry for this whole mess with the truth potion, I didn’t think it was that strong. Here's the antidote."

Eugene took the apple half, once he bit into it, he already started feeling better as the cloud in his mind dissipated. He stopped cuddling a resisting Rudiger and got up, dusting his clothes

"Oh, that was a doozy. Eh, don't worry about Var. I had fun with the prank war. Next time, we just need to calm it down some. Besides, as the winner of the Team Awesome prank war, you get some .... hot cocoa! And I get some too! Come on, kid."

Rapunzel shakes her head as the two walked off to get some hot cocoa. If she had listened to the rumors around the castle, then she would have put a stop to this war much sooner. But, it seemed like she didn’t have to put an end to things ….. this time.

Quirin continued unloading the cart of produce with a relaxed smile on his face. He’s never seen Varian act like this before. And it was …. relieving. Varian’s never had friends to laugh or mess around with before. Now, seeing him act like a real kid with Eugene, he felt satisfied seeing his son happy again. 

---

Varian and Eugene were drinking hot cocoa in the Dementius laboratory under the castle. Rudiger has made them his special drink, in regular mugs at Eugene’s insistence. Now, the two were enjoying their drinks as they compared notes on their pranks on one another.

“So, how’d you get that shampoo potion into my room?” Eugene asked at one point.

“Lance helped me out. He offered when he saw he sneaking around your room,” the teen admitted.

“Hmmmmm….. Lance held Rudiger down for me to dye his fur.”

Varian sat up straighter and continued Eugene’s line of thought.

“He…. helped me get that apple tree in your room. And opened the windows.”

“He helped me put that aging potion in your room.”

“He helped me switch all the labels in your lab.”

“He put that platter of cookies in your room.”

The two looked at each other and they both realized …. Lance has been playing them! They wordlessly started putting away their finished rinks and started to leave the lab.

“I still got them truth cookies in my room,” Eugene offered.

“Good idea. Don’t want them to waste. We’ll force-feed him. Any other ideas?” Varian asked.

The two spent the day together scheming their ideas before implementing them the next day.

Never mess with Team Awesome when they in a mood to prank, whether it is each other or not! 

[nakediconoclast]

About a certain livestock de-wormer...

Ivermectin

.

Before I even start this post, let me get the legal shit out of the way.I am not a doctor. I haven't even been to a doctor in over 5 years.I have no medical training except for maybe 100 hours of outdated first aid training when I was in the army 40 years ago and my First Sergeant needed a break from me.I am not a pharmacist, although back in the 1980s and 90s, I have dispensed dru..... Wait, I better leave that one alone.The point being, don't take my word for shit here. Do your own research. I'm going to refer to the drug as IM in this post because I don't want Google/Blogger taking my blog down or red-paging it for not toeing the party line. It is not my purpose to try to talk you into taking it any more than I'd try to talk you out of taking the vaccine if that's what you want to do. Your body, your choice.All I'm doing is making you aware of it if you haven't already checked it out, and to pass on my own experiences and thoughts. IM has been approved for use in humans, although it's more widely known as an parasitic medication for livestock.IM, sold under the brand name Stromectol among others, is a medication that is used to treat parasite infestations. In humans, this includes head lice, scabies, river blindness (onchocerciasis), strongyloidiasis, trichuriasis, ascariasis, and lymphatic filariasis. In veterinary medicine, it is used to prevent and treat heartworm and acariasis, among other indications. It can be taken by mouth or applied to the skin for external infestations.MORE Question: If it's already been proven safe for human use, why isn't there full speed ahead testing being done to see if it works for covid?Answer: Big Pharma. IM has been off patent for years and is dirt cheap. If it's found out to be effective for covid, guess who's profits are going to nosedive in that vaccine market? * Back a few weeks ago, a very good friend who shall remain nameless - fuck it, I'll out him, it was WiscoDave - initiated a conversation with me about IM and wanted to know if I had considered taking it to 1) prevent covid and 2) use it to cure covid if I were to contract it. Me, being invincible, said no, so he turned me onto a few links and pretty much left it at that.He's a sly devil - he knew I'd eventually get bored and read them. One of them concerned a study in India. As you may recall, there was a major outbreak a couple months ago and motherfuckers were dying like flies, then all of a sudden..... nothing.Why? Because they introduced IM. HERE is the link to the study in the first sentence of this paragraph.HERE is a 25 minute youtube video along the same lines. There's more out there if you take a few seconds to look them up. Okay, I read that, then I started digging and found more articles and videos on youtube, although youtube seems to be pulling a bunch of them if they even mention covid and IM.To make a long story short, I figured to give it a try. Hell, I never was shy about trying new drugs when I was younger, so it wasn't that big of a deal.My reasoning was this: While I may be invincible, my wife is not and with her health problems, she is one of those high risk people. She doesn't get out much, so about the only way she'd get it would be from me, so I needed to protect myself, but I really don't want to get vaccinated.Besides, I keep hearing about all the deaths and complications from taking the vaccines, but I've yet to hear about anybody dying from taking IM. On top of that, every day I read about fully vaccinated people being diagnosed with covid in spite of their precautions, so even if I got vaccinated, there's a good possibility that's not going to protect my wife from getting it. Wisco had also directed me to Ann Barnhardt's IM page HERE and told me to be sure that I read it - it tells you where to buy it, how to buy it, what kinds to buy (very important!) and dosage instructions. So, armed with that knowledge, I went into town to score some of this miracle drug in the liquid form. First stop was the Farmer's Co-op in town. There was none to be had and the old boy behind the counter said they can't keep it in stock for the past few months. That seemed a little weird seeing as I haven't noticed a massive influx of livestock around here lately - unless people are buying it up to use on themselves. Bubba also told me he couldn't guarantee a hold for me when it did come in, so I headed down to Tractor Supply. Once there, I couldn't find the liquid 1% solution so I asked one of the guys and immediately started getting the 3rd degree - just exactly what I did I want it for and shit like that, so I told him it was to worm a sick donkey. He went to the back to see if there was any there, but came back to tell me there was none in stock, so I asked him to order it for me. He hemmed and hawed around until the manager walked by and told him to order anything I wanted, with as much money as I've spent in that store, so he ordered a 50ml bottle for me and I got it 3-4 days later.While I'm on the subject of Tractor Supply, if you order something online from your home, YOU pay the shipping. If you have them order it for you, it ships to your address and shipping is free - something to keep in mind. Ten bucks is ten bucks. Anyways, after I got home and was re-reading Miss Ann's page, I realized I saw the 1.87% paste there at Tractor Supply, so I hustled back down there and scored a tube for about 8 bucks.Once I got it home, I figured to give it a whirl as a preventive measure, but I didn't want to use the liquid, figuring to hold off on that in case it became 'unavailable' in the future.Now Wisco had told me the paste tasted like ass, but what the fuck, I've eaten British food before. I ain't scared. Besides, this shit was apple flavored. So I took a piece of bread, squeezed out the recommended dose (I thought), put it on the bread, folded it over and wolfed it down. I got a very slight taste of bitter apple, so I shoveled in a load of Copenhagen and that was the end of that. Now, while IM in the liquid form is taken orally, it's drawn from the bottle and measured using a syringe which can be bought at Tractor Supply, livestock supply stores and even online at vet supply sites such as Chewy.com.In the liquid form and by using a little math, you can get the dosage down for your body weight pretty easily. Using the paste, the tube dispenses the doses in 50 kilogram increments for your body weight. Luckily, as I found out, it's pretty fucking hard to overdose yourself. As I was putting the tube away, I realized I had accidentally dosed myself with double the amount recommended for my weight. It's okay to round up - better a little too much than too little according to everything I had read, but damn, I really rounded up.Like I said, the shit measures out in 50 kilo increments for body weight and I did 3 clicks instead of 2. I weigh 170 pounds and took enough for a 330 pounder.I sat down and waited to die. What I got was a very slight headache and I do mean very slight - it wasn't even bad enough to require aspirin. I didn't even cop a buzz, damn it. Okay, that's my experience. Did I have any side effects? Nope.Did I get sick to my stomach? Huh-uh.Does my dick still get hard in the morning? Most of the time, but that's my age showing.Any frothing at the mouth? Only when I brush my teeth.Do my trigger fingers still work? Yes, praise the Lord.Any newfound empathy or tolerance for Biden? Fuck no.Do I have an urge to gallop in the pasture? What happens in that pasture is between me and God. Obviously, there's precautions.Ladies, you probably don't want to take it if you're pregnant or trying to get pregnant.If you're taking medication, you most definitely want to talk with your doctor first to see if there's going to be any kind of interactions. There's a website HERE that you can check, but I think I'd want to hear it from a doctor. How you word those questions is up to you, but if it was me I wouldn't ask IF I can take it, I'd let him or her know I was going to take it and what should I know. Okay, bottom line for me: Like I said earlier, I've heard of many, many cases of horrible side effects and even deaths from taking the vaccines, but I've yet to hear of anybody taking the correct dosage of IM having any adverse effects. I'm sure there's some out there, but if they were even remotely common, the FDA would be spreading those examples everywhere. Instead, they're putting out vague warnings like this HERE.Do I believe the hype about how deadly covid is for healthy people? No. But I do believe it can make you sicker than a dog, and I generally try to avoid shit like that. And again, I do have to protect my wife by protecting myself. With her health issues, death is a very real possibility. * So, if you are considering it, please go to Ann Barnhardt's page on the stuff and read it. Again, you'll find instructions on the kind to buy (they're not all the same), dosage, how to take it, and even a little video on how to use the paste.HEREIf you're concerned about the correct dosage, she addresses that as well.HERE