#currently typing this while i have noone to admit that i am just too soft for all of it

[folkloreromancr]

i hope that everyone on this planet has or finds someone to whom they can admit that they're too soft for all of it. i hope that my worst of enemies have someone to whom they can admit this. i would like to believe that all of us deserve to have someone to whom we can just admit.

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Knitting You a Home - 4

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,853

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Grandma was perched on the chair at the register with her knitting, the needles lightly clicking against each other as she moved the yarn forwards and backwards all without looking at her work. It was a skill she acquired from years of practice.

Instead, she watched as you buzzed around the store, arranging and then rearranging displays even though each attempt didn’t look different from the last. It had been amusing within the first ten minutes, but after watching you do this all around the store, she knew something was off, whether or not you wanted to admit it.

“Honey,” Grandma called out, hands still moving as she raised an eyebrow at you. “Did you put something in your breakfast this morning that I should know about? Perhaps you thought it was sugar that you put in your coffee, but it really wasn’t?”

Usually a comment like that would have made you pause and laugh, but you didn’t. Instead, you licked your lip as you glanced at her for a few seconds before adjusting the decorative jade scarf on display.

“I had cereal for breakfast Grandma,” you softly answered, nose scrunching at how the scarf was now set.

The store itself was quiet with the lack of shoppers allowing the conversation to easily pass between you and your Grandmother with ease to keep it from silent. When you didn’t even hear the clicking of her knitting needles, you felt unnerved in the silence.

Turning around, you were surprised to see her arms crossed over her chest, the purple beads attached to her glasses glimmering as she propped them on the top of her head. It had been years since she had looked at you like this; an instant reminder of the days in high school when you attempted to be rebellious.

“What is going on? You’ve managed to do a week’s worth of work in the four hours that we’ve been open.”

You shrugged, looking away and at the scarf. It had been one of Grandmother’s creations. Ideally, it was meant to be worn at events rather than for warmth. “I fell asleep early last night. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie. After weeks of waiting up for Namjoon to come home, you finally couldn’t find the strength to stay up, crashing at eleven. You weren’t entirely sure when he came home last night, but when the alarm went off at seven thirty, he was already gone. Unlike you where you needed to be at the store for nine, he had to be at the studio for eight. But like every morning the coffee maker was already set and your favorite mug was waiting, prepared for you by Namjoon himself. All you had to do was press the button to start it.

Grandma shook her head though. Standing up, she walked around the counter and once she was in front of you, pressed her cool hand against your forehead.

The gesture made you smile. “I’m not sick Grandma.”

“I think I’ll decide that,” she teased, gently bopping a finger against the tip of your nose like she had when you were a child. “You may not be sick, but you’re bottling something up for sure.”

She always knew when you were dealing with an issue. As a child, you thought she was able to use magic to sense these types of things, and even though you were now an adult, you still liked to believe that she was magical. Especially when it worked in her favor.

“It’s nothing serious,” you half admitted, smiling up at her. “Namjoon’s just been pulling a lot of hours at the studio, so he’s there more than he’s at home.”

Raising an eyebrow, she ran her fingers through your hair. “He should tell his boss that his wife needs him at home.”

With a giggle, you stepped back once she removed her hand and went back to the scarf display. This time determined to drape it in a way that was pleasing to the eye. “His wife, doesn’t want to interfere with her husband’s career.”

“Please, the two of you are young and in your first year of marriage. He should be with you, in a certain room, in that cozy house of yours that has a few empty bedrooms.” Grandma sent a knowing grin to you, chuckling as you simply shook your head.

“Almost a year,” you corrected. “We’ve known each for a year, but he gave me the Mate Mark in November.”

Grandma hummed, making her way over to a wicker basket that held knitted rabbits dressed in thin sweaters and dresses. They were a hit with young children, perfect as baby shower gifts, and you absolutely loved to make them.

“Which proves my point even more. You’ve been married a little less than a year, and you’re both working like an old married couple.” Holding a bunny, she waved the rabbit’s arm at you. “As your Grandmother and your business partner, I’m telling you that you need a vacation. Go home, take a few days off and sleep in. I can run the shop on my own.”

“Grandma, I’m fi-”

“Yes, you’re fine,” Grandma interrupt. “You’re saying it but I’m not believing it one bit.”

A part of you wanted to argue for a little bit longer, expect all that came out was a sigh of frustration. You were more than capable of working for the rest of the day, but standing by the mannequin, Grandma was right. It was time to recharge yourself, and if you were going to figure out why Namjoon was acting so strange, it would help if you weren’t at the shop all day long. Glancing at the calendar, you realized that it was only Tuesday. How were you already so done with the week when it only just began?

“Alright,” you agreed, setting done the scarf once and for all to head towards the office. “I’ll go home, take that vacation.”

Her excited cheers were ignored as you went to gather your belongings, smiling nonetheless. As much as you teased her, you did love her dearly and were grateful to have Grandmother in your life.

Grabbing your purse, you gave her one last hug and reminded her that you’d be back on Monday before leaving the shop, the little bell jingling in your wake. The car was parked in the back-parking lot, but instead of guiding you there, your feet took you to the right, walking the short distance to another shop that was six doors down from yours.

The air conditioning hit like a wave washing off the summer heat as you entered the bookstore. From nowhere in particular soft music danced around the shop. It had been a while since you last saw Sarah and after everything, you were curious as to how she was doing considering that Hoseok was leaving at the end of the month.

“Be right there,” Sarah called out, her voice coming from a corner of the store that you couldn’t quite see.

“Or I can come to you?” You suggested, releasing the smile when she called out your name in glee.

Following the sound of her voice and books thumping on the floor, you weren’t surprised to see Sarah sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a bookcase. “Well I’m happy to see you like this instead of the last time I saw you.”

Sarah laughed, leaning over to hug you once you sat down next to her. “Believe me, I am too. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the shop.”

“Grandma insisted I needed a vacation.” You carefully leaned against a bookcase as Sarah continued to stack the shelf.

“Well I mean, you do,” Sarah agreed, glancing in your direction. “Besides that, how’ve you been? I’ve been meaning to text you but ever since Hoseok signed the contract, we’ve been running around trying to figure out what he needs before leaving for Seoul.”

You shrugged, spotting a romance novel with a crown on the cover. “I’m alright. Just…has Namjoon been in lately?”

Her hand paused its task at the mention of his name, this time turning to face you completely. Like your shop had been, the bookstore was currently free of customers. While that tended to be a worry, it was only noon and typical during the week. The weekend was when business really went to town.

“Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t been in these last few weeks. I think the last time I saw him was before the Dance Studio’s May show. Why, is something wrong?”

Licking your lips, you turned the book over, grazing the description with your fingertips. It wasn’t unlike Namjoon to skip out on his trips to the bookstore. It had been the first place he went to on his own when he first came to live with you and it was a habit he kept, always excited to tell you about the new sonnets and books he got that day.

It was strange for him to not be coming to the bookstore.

You knew when this all started, and you didn’t think Sarah wanted to be reminded of that so soon. “He’s just been working longer hours,” you said again, faking a smile when she raised an eyebrow. Guilt swirled in your heart from keeping the truth from her, but the last thing you wanted was to have her relive what Sue put her through. Even if it was just by remembering.

Luckily, Sarah nodded after a few moments. Whether or not she believed you, she didn’t mention it. “Oh well he’s probably just tired then. I know I tend to forget things when I’m not running on enough sleep.”

You chuckled in agreement, handing her back the book you had been looking at. “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell as Sarah began to re-stack the shelf again. You took the chance to look at her, noticing the differences since the last time you saw her. Namjoon had explained that Hybrids were able to sense everyone’s emotions and that depending on how severe they were, another person’s emotions could affect theirs as well.

When you had gotten the call from Sarah, her voice breaking over the line as she sobbed into the phone, scaring both you and Namjoon – who had been standing nearby and heard it all clear as day – while you hurried to gather your things to go see her. Before even reaching the car, you knew it was bad. She hadn’t even locked her door so when you arrived at her apartment that day, you had walked right in and found her curled up in bed, cheeks blotchy as she cried into her pillow.

It never crossed your mind that by telling Sue about what Colin had been doing would result in the choices that had been made. Guilt had been an unwelcomed guest in your heart and mind during Sarah and Hoseok’s separation. Despite all your attempts to reign in your emotions at home that night, Namjoon had picked up on them so much that as soon as he came home, he was right there by your side, hugging and sweetly kissing you and your Mate Mark, reassuring you that was never going to happen between the two of you.

Despite his promises, it already felt like there was a rift between you and him.

“How are you and Hoseok?” You asked.

Sarah smiled as she ran a hand through her hair, revealing the side of her neck where her own Mate Mark was. To any onlooker – and with some distance – every Mate Mark looked like an identical scar from a bite. Someone who you never met could have one that look just like yours, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell that no two were alike. How could they be identical? Namjoon’s jaw and teeth were different from Hoseok’s. It was the finer details; the grooves and ridges were their own individual shape.

“Amazing,” Sarah breathed out. “It’s just so good to have him back home. He finally got the rest of his belongings from Sue since she’s planning on moving, but it finally feels like everything is going right for us.”

It appeared that way too. There was a life in Sarah’s eyes that when you had gone to check on her with Hoseok gone, had been burnt out. You were scared that she was going to fall into a depressive state without him, but it was a miracle that she managed to fight against it and try to live her life, even when her Mate had been taken away.

A part of you wanted to believe that, if for some reason you lost Namjoon, you’d be able to continue living. Deep down however, you knew how easy it would be slip under the covers and not care, and not know that the days were blending together.

It did surprise you how easily she had mentioned Sue though. “Have you heard much from her?”

The smile on her face flickered, and you thought that maybe you had made a mistake.

“No. Actually, Hoseok’s been the one to talk to her when it came to scheduling a time to go over and pack his stuff.” Her fingers tightened around a hardcover and somewhere in the store, the clock chimed at the half hour. “I’m trying, but…it’s going to be a long time.”

Reaching over, you gently squeezed her shoulder as her words died out, not needing an explanation for how she felt. You knew what she meant and if you were being honest, if someone had done the same to you and Namjoon, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive them.

It was as she was taking a deep breath that Sarah tapped the book and snapped her finger at you, drawing a grin out of you. “Since you’re on vacation, you can give these to Namjoon to look at.”

She hurried to the desk, leaving you to take your time as you stood up, lower back popping as you joined her. By the time you leaned on the wooden desk, Sarah had a stack of six hardcovers waiting for you. The pages were yellowed and upon opening the top one, the musty smell of an aged book greeted you. While you loved to read as well, you didn’t get overly excited over the famous book smell that you knew Namjoon and Sarah died for.

“I found them at this flea market Hoseok and I went to,” Sarah explained, opening up another one. The text was small and centered, and as you took a closer look, you realized that they were books of poetry.

“How much for them?” You asked, turning your purse to pull out your wallet.

Sarah waved her fingers though, lightly slapping your hand when you still tried to take it out. “Don’t worry about it. They’re a gift.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you do not accept these on Namjoon’s half, I will pick up the phone and call your Grandmother right now Missy,” Sarah playfully threatened, her smile about ready to break her face in half.

For a moment, there was silence in the little shop, but it didn’t last long as you both broke out in laughter. Even as you agreed and she bagged them up for you, you slipped a few dollars in the little donation jar that her boss insisted be put out.

“Now, why don’t you head home,” Sarah suggested, walking around the desk, and hugged you. “Steal a nap before Namjoon comes home tonight.”

“He’s probably going to be working until midnight again,” you said, accepting the bag.

But Sarah smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that sent you into a fit of giggles. “Not unless you call him and tell him that you need him.”

“You are just as bad as my Grandmother,” you teased, walking towards the door.

Sarah just laughed as you headed outside, shaking your head in amusement. You knew that they meant well, but it was starting to worry you that everyone seemed to be concerned about your sex life with Namjoon, or apparently, the lack of one.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t have one – Namjoon had his heats like every other Hybrid – with everything that’s been going on, there just hadn’t been time to relax and get in the mood. You knew that Sarah was still relatively newly mated to Hoseok, so it wouldn’t surprise you if they were going at it whenever the desire struck.

But as you got into the car, the books for Namjoon carefully sitting on the passenger seat, you weren’t able to stop thinking about it. It felt like forever since Namjoon indicated that he wanted more than a few kisses or a few minutes of cuddling.

Again, despite knowing his love for you, your mind wandered to the other place, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. He hadn’t always had to stay so late, so why had things changed so suddenly?

[noona-clock]

The Bartender - Part 4

Genre: Bartender!AU

Pairing: Jinhwan x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,294

You weren’t usually the type to be that nervous about going on a date. Even though you did tend to overthink things, for some reason, going on dates was not one of those things.

I mean, if you really think about it, it was just hanging out with someone. Spending time with someone to see if you were romantically compatible. Not a big deal, really.

But when Jinhwan sent you a text message on Sunday morning with a location and ‘Meet me there at 11?’...

You were nervous.

You still replied back that you would be there at 11 on the dot, but you were nervous about it.

Probably it wasn’t actually nerves, though. It was most likely leftover embarrassment, and you were just slightly dreading seeing him.

But it would be fine. You would get over it.

Hopefully.

When you clicked on the location after he’d sent it, your eyebrows raised in slight surprise when you saw the map was one of a nearby beach. A very small beach with a quaint pier, one you didn’t visit nearly as much as you should.

And you knew at least one restaurant at the pier had received a 100 on their last health inspection, so Jinhwan had stayed true to his word -- a quality you greatly desired in a partner.

So, score one for him.

If you added the score he had previously earned for being so cute, he now had about a 26. Out of what, you had no idea, but he definitely had a 26 for the time being.

At around 10 AM, you started getting ready. Since the weather was pretty warm but the beach could get fairly windy, you opted for a pair of cotton shorts and a striped blouse. You also chose makeup packed with SPF, but you didn’t forget to throw a tube of sunscreen into your bag, either.

And then, once you were all dolled up and ready to go... you went.

As you drove toward the beach, you realized that you were incredibly grateful he had chosen a time fairly early in the day to meet up; if you’d had to wait several more hours before seeing him after that disaster of a Friday night, you probably would’ve made yourself sick. Your stomach was already in knots, and it would’ve been so much worse later on.

Thankfully, you saw Jinhwan sitting on a bench near the parking spots as soon as you pulled in. Just like you were glad you hadn’t had to wait until later to see him, you were now glad you didn’t have to wait for him to arrive. You would really rather just get this over with!

...I mean, not the date. Just the awkwardness of seeing him in person after you’d kissed him like that.

You were... actually... kind of looking forward to the date.

Jinhwan stood from the bench once he realized you were the one driving the car pulling in, and a smile curved his lips when you opened the door and got out.

“Hi,” he greeted as soon as you approached. His hands were casually in his pockets, but his smile gave away that he felt anything but casual about seeing you.

Maybe he could pretend to be casual about it, but you certainly could not. It would eat away at you if you simply pretended like nothing had happened. Your two options were to either avoid seeing Jinhwan altogether or to get it all out in the open, and since you were already on a date with him, you had to opt for the latter.

“Listen,” you began, your voice soft but urgent. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never... kissed anyone like that before. I really haven’t, and I don’t know what came over me. It wasn’t the alcohol, but that was definitely not typical Y/N behavior. I’m really, truly sorry, and I don’t plan on doing anything like that again.”

As you’d spoken, Jinhwan’s smile had transformed into a smirk, and he’d taken a step or two closer to you.

“You don’t?” he asked when you’d finished.

You shook your head.

“That’s too bad,” he chuckled. “I was hoping you’d do something like that again today. And, really, I can’t blame you at all. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself, either. I’m pretty hard to resist.”

“Wow,” you laughed, raising your eyebrows at him. “So, the whole flirtatious thing is just who you are, then.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Good to know,” you nodded. It was hard to keep the amusement from your face, though, and your grin became even more obvious when Jinhwan winked at you.

“Don’t worry, though. I’m very capable of being a one-woman flirter.”

“Thank god. My biggest worry laid to rest.”

Jinhwan’s sly smirk quickly morphed into a full-on smile, and he laughed softly at you before reaching to take your hand. “Come on,” he chuckled.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your heart doing a little skip when you slipped your hand into his.

“...The beach.” He gestured in front of you and shot you a look like you were a little bit crazy. You’d met him at a beach -- where else would you be going?”

“I know that,” you laughed. “But where? What are we doing?”

Jinhwan pulled you a little closer and pointed at two unattended towels spread on the sand. “You see those?”

“Yes. I have very good eyesight.”

With his brows raised, he turned to you and said, “Those are for us. We’re going to sit on them.”

“...And... do what?”

“Talk.”

“Talk?”

He nodded and gently pulled you toward the beach. “You asked me how I could like someone I barely know, so I want to get to know you. I want you to get to know me.”

Actually... you liked the sound of that.

“And then when we get hungry, we’re going to the pier to get sushi,” he added, smirking at you over his shoulder.

It goes without saying, the sushi restaurant at the pier was one which had received full marks on their health inspection, so you shot him a grin in return.

Even though you’d already given him a score for keeping his word -- just taking you to the pier where at least one restaurant was up to your standards was enough -- you decided to give him another for actually choosing a specific restaurant which fit the bill. So, he was up to 27 now.

Or maybe you should round it out to 30 since he had arrived before you. He’d even set everything up already!

So, yeah. He was definitely at a 30 now.

Once the two of you reached the beach towels he’d laid out, Jinhwan helped you sit down and made sure you were comfortable before sitting down next to you.

And then you just talked.

Normally, you weren’t someone who loved to talk. You preferred to have more deep conversations, and you couldn’t really do that with someone you didn’t know well and weren’t fully comfortable with.

But, somehow, Jinhwan was different.

You started by telling him your life story -- what it had been like growing up, your family, how you’d gotten on the path to working for the city and becoming a health inspector. He told you his, in turn, and you listened intently as he explained his journey with owning a bar.

It was so fascinating -- so interesting and so weird -- to hear about two totally different lives that eventually met up with each other.

After what felt like only ten or fifteen minutes, your stomach began to alert you that it was time to eat. You asked Jinhwan what time it was, and after glancing at his watch, he told you it was half past noon.

Your eyes widened when you realized the two of you had been talking for an hour and a half.

And, you had to admit, you were hesitant to leave. Your conversation had been more than pleasant, and your surroundings currently were so peaceful: the lulling sound of the waves nearby, the warm sun, the somewhat distant sound of seagulls, the smell of ocean salt in the air.

But your stomach was empty, and a plate of sushi was too tempting to stay away from any longer.

When you suggested getting some food, Jinhwan helped you up before collecting the beach towels, shaking out the sand, and folding them up. The pier was close enough to walk, and he took your hand once more as the two of you began to head over to the restaurant.

“I like you like this,” he said after about a minute of comfortable silence.

“Like what?” you asked with a lopsided grin.

“Casual. Comfortable. Not in my bar.”

You laughed softly, and Jinhwan continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I like seeing you while you work. And I like seeing you in my bar. It’s very sexy. But I realized I haven’t ever seen you outside of the bar, and... I like it.”

A warmth spread over your cheeks, and you nodded at him. “I like it, too,” you admitted.

And for those comments, you added another five to his score.

So far, this was shaping up to be a pretty perfect date. You’d had your doubts, to be quite honest, but just sitting and talking on the beach had been wonderful. And now a nice walk to a sushi restaurant? At this point, your lunch could be just mediocre, and you would still label this as the best date you’d ever been on.

In fact, you were pretty sure --

Your thoughts were interrupted by a very loud squawk. You jumped a little, startled by the sudden noise, and before you could look up to see the intruding seagull... you felt something warm and wet land on top of your head.

...Oh. My. God.

You froze, your heart pausing momentarily as you felt whatever it was (yes, you knew exactly what it was, you just didn’t want to admit it yet) start dripping down your hair and onto your shoulder.

“Oh... shit,” Jinhwan said, his eyes wide as he stopped walking and turned to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “...Literally.”

You truly -- truly -- could not believe that a seagull had just pooped right on top of your head.

You didn’t know whether you wanted to cry with shame or with disgust.

Or both.

Probably both.

When you glanced at Jinhwan, you could tell he was trying not to laugh. And, if you were in his shoes, you knew you would be doing the same thing.

Because objectively speaking, a bird pooping on your date’s head was funny.

But not when it was you.

“Jinhwan!” you whined, closing your eyes so you couldn’t see his face. Hearing him would be bad enough. “It’s not funny!”

“Well,” he sputtered. “It kind of is.”

“It’s not!” But even you could hear the laughter in your voice.

“Here, there’s a water fountain up ahead,” Jinhwan chuckled. “Come on.”

He squeezed your hand and led you up to the sidewalk by the pier, your body barely moving so nothing from your hair could drip down onto your shoulders any more than it already had.. He stopped in front of the water fountain and murmured for you to bend over so your head was under the drinking faucet.

Oh, god, this was humiliating.

Once you positioned your head in the bowl of the water fountain, Jinhwan turned on the faucet, and the cold water began to stream down your hair. You let out a gasp, a shiver running down your spine at the shocking temperature.

But then you felt Jinhwan’s fingers combing through your hair and another type of shiver ran down your spine.

“Okay, you’re right, this is disgusting,” he laughed. “But I was also right because it is funny.”

“You’re not the one with ice water pouring over your head!” you cried, and you quickly closed your eyes when you saw streams of bird poop landing in the water fountain.

“But I am the one touching it,” he retorted. “The cold water and the poop.”

...That was true.

After about a minute, Jinhwan sighed and said, “I think I got it all.” He turned off the water and gently squeezed your hair to get the excess water out.

“Do I still have some on my shirt?” you asked, too afraid to look yourself.

“Yeah, hold on.”

A few moments later, you felt him wiping your shoulder with one of the beach towels. He then nudged you a little, and when you shuffled a few steps away from the fountain, he got another corner of the towel wet and wiped at your shirt some more.

“There,” he said with a nod as he examined you. “Poop-free.”

You had to laugh at that, though you did feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh, my god,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” he grinned. “Though... are you still up for some sushi?”

You were glad he brought it up because now that you thought about it...

“Actually, there’s a very delicious pizza parlor right next to the sushi restaurant.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Jinhwan ran to take the towels back to his car, and as you stood there waiting, combing your fingers through your hair and hoping it would dry at last halfway decently, you added another two hundred points to his score.

A guy who would rinse bird poop out of your hair? On the first date? And not even complain? And he still wanted to eat lunch with you?

You were actually starting to kick yourself for not agreeing to go out with him sooner.

Part 5

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 6/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. Attempts at sexual situations. I did mention this was a slow burn, right? Like. Super slow burn.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 6: Softening the Edges

November 2: Saturday

The last time Emma remembers going on a date, it was with Walsh - and while she has a feeling Killian would appreciate the LBD with a leather twist that she still owns, she’d rather not wear something that has a memory of that asshole attached.

All of the other dresses she owns are tight and short, which worked a lot better for picking up one-night-stands. None of those dresses are going to be the right ones, either, which is why they’re all still in the back of her closet.

Instead, she’s looking at the choices hanging in front of her that she unpacked while on the phone with Killian last night. One was an impulse buy from this past spring, and the other two are loaners from Ruby and Snow.

It’s noon, and there are hours to go before the date, but Emma wants this to be perfect so she diligently takes each dress off the hanger, slipping it on and assessing each option carefully before moving on to the next. 

Her timer goes off, letting her know it’s time to retrieve her laundry. Normally, all she wants to do on a Saturday is lounge around, but nerves have her going strong right now. She also wants the loft to be spotless. Just in case she has a visitor tonight, but that’s not something she’s anticipating, so to speak, but it could be. 

The way her stomach flips tells her exactly how big of a deal that actually feels like. 

Instead of dwelling on the hopeful way he invited her in for hot chocolate on Halloween, Emma focuses on her tasks. She switches out the clothes before going back to try on the last two dresses. 

It’s between a black one that Ruby lent her and a pink one she bought online, and it’s not until the latter is on her body that she decides it’s the one. It’s soft and almost fluid, and she takes a moment to turn back and forth to feel the skirts brush against her thighs. She stands in front of her mirror admiring the picture it all makes, so unlike how she dresses for work or even for a night on the town. 

Off it goes and back on the hanger, and Emma makes sure to set out the rest of what she’ll wear, finding the perfect heels to go with it before heading downstairs to clean her bathroom. 

She’s never been one for following a specific routine other than necessities, but Emma goes through her process later when she’s getting ready. It’s maybe the only time she cares about being orderly, stashing all her makeup back away when she’s finished with another whisper to herself that it’s better to be safe.

Killian texted and said he’d be there at six-thirty, and she’s just fixed the backing on her second earring when the knock comes. 

Shaking out her hands one last time, Emma swings open the door for Killian, and immediately all thoughts simple and pure fly out the window. 

Suits and ties, she’s used to. Even the waistcoats. But this look is somehow familiar yet completely new. No thoughts of offices and editors come to mind when she looks at the total picture that the black jeans and leather vest gives off. She's tempted to invite him in now, but she’s hungry and has no intention of turning Killian into one of her really bad statistics. 

Killian, meanwhile, has a look on his face that she’ll be replaying for as long as she lives. His eyes scan her from top to bottom, not in a sexual way but in stunned surprise. And yeah, because he’s used to seeing her in jeans and a leather jacket, she doesn’t blame him for the expression on his face. He finally picks his jaw up off the floor and looks her in the eye again. 

“You look stunning, Swan,” he says, the words slow to come out as he takes in her appearance. Good to know she’s knocked him off balance, as well.

“You look…” she trails off, not even knowing how to sum it up, but he saves her the trouble.

“I know,” he says, a little smug but mostly matter-of-fact. 

Her laugh is a quick exhalation, her lips turning up into a smirk before he holds out a single rose for her. It’s a small gesture, but it’s still better than any other man has done for her on a first date. Really, on any dates at all. 

“Let me pop this in water and we’ll go,” she tells him, moving quickly to the kitchen to find a vase. 

It’s only once outside that she realizes just how cold it is, and she’s glad she wore her wool coat but momentarily regrets the lack of hat. It would’ve ruined her hair but at least her ears would be warm. 

“I hope you weren’t lying about trusting me,” Killian says as he guides her to an SUV that’s idling against the curb. 

“What’s this?”

“Robin let me borrow his vehicle for the evening. He’s been helping me get used to American driving. Might be a different side of the road but I think we’ll be all right.” He opens the door for her and waits until she’s settled before closing it again. When he climbs in and closes his own door he turns to her for a moment. “I also hope a diligent law officer can turn a blind eye for the sake of a date, since I haven’t gotten my license just yet.”

“Knew there had to be a catch,” she jokes, patting his arm comfortingly. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It’s been years since she’s gone to Tony’s, and never has it been with a man she was seeing. The last time she was here, it was with Ruby and Snow because they wanted to dress up and feel fancy for a night while also consuming their combined weight in pasta. 

Killian hastens to pull out her chair for her, smiling as he shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair before settling in across from her. 

“No sad back stories,” Emma says as soon as their waiter walks away. “No prior relationships. Anything else is fair game.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not really. I like you. And I’m scared and excited to be on a date again for the first time in a very long time. And I don’t want to fuck that up by rambling about how shit my luck was before I made it to where I am now.” It takes a lot of effort not to wring her hands together, even as they’re sitting in her lap. No nerves, no tension. Just enjoy a date.

“Fair point. First, let me ask your favorite type of wine,” he says, handing her the menu to consider. 

“Most reds, but not tonight.”

“Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible?” he asks, leaning back and doing something sinful with his eyebrows when he looks at her. He’s tempting… so very tempting.

“No,” she says after a moment to collect herself. “I like first dates. And I’d rather not be all cloudy by the time my dinner arrives.”

His smile turns to something pure and happy. “No wine, then.” He waits until the waiter has taken their orders before speaking again. “What’s your favorite thing about Storybrooke?” 

“That we have actual seasons here. Not like in Florida where it was just hot and humid until it wasn’t, with a smattering of hurricanes.”

“Or England where there’s maybe forty-five days when the sun shines.”

“You get the point on that one,” Emma tells him. “Why did you decide to move here?”

There’s a few emotions that cross Killian’s face all at once, and she knows without needing the explanation. Will did say it was a story for the man himself. “Okay, we’ll save that for another time, too.”

“I was genuinely surprised that a publishing company wanted to set up an office here in Storybrooke,” Emma says, realizing she’s never asked why.

“Robin prefers forests of trees over concrete jungles,” Killian explains. “There is a central office with a lot more people in New York City, but he only goes down when he has to and we utilize a lot of video conferences for everything else.”

“That’s a lot of distance for just some editing and such, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than just that, love. Robin’s looking to start up workshops and clinics for his signed authors. He’s been hosting a fellowship for new authors for a week at a time at a cabin he owns up on the edge of the town as well. If you ask him, this place has a natural fount of creative powers just waiting to be tapped into. That’s kind of how Henry happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was on vacation about a year ago with his parents… well, foster parents. They said as soon as he sat down in the room that he whipped out his pen and paper. By the time they got back from going to grab dinner downstairs at Granny’s, he had just about finished the first chapter. Worked out a deal to buy him a laptop for some chores.”

“That’s amazing. Do they come with him for his meetings with you?”

“Well,” Killian starts, and his face falls. Before the words are out of his mouth, she knows what he’s going to say. “He’s not with that family anymore. That couple did everything they could to try to make up for the fact that they had to move and not take him with them, so he has his own laptop, we communicate with him via an iPod, and he has a suitcase that he protects with his life. But his current situation is... not as ideal.”

Emma swallows hard, a bubble of emotion getting lodged in her throat. “I can imagine how much that must hurt for him.”

“He’s been in higher spirits since his new foster parents started letting him travel on his own. He’s just turned sixteen and he’s fiercely independent, so he loves to take the train from Portland by himself and make his way up the coast for a weekend, even if it’s just a few hours away.” 

“Sometimes even just a few hours can feel like a whole different country.”

“I gather you’ve lived in a few places if that’s the way you feel.”

“I didn’t really live in Boston. But sometimes going down there to visit was like going to the far reaches of the Earth. Tallahassee was too far, when it came down to it, so I’ve mostly lived here in Storybrooke with a few exceptions.”

“Where you’ve followed the family business to be a police officer.”

“Correct. Have a shiny degree with my name on it and everything. It’s just from an online degree program, but…”

She’s surprised when Killian reaches across the table to touch her hand. “Online degrees are just as valid and important as ones earned in person at a university.”

There’s something about the way he says it - Emma is positive that he’s giving the affirmation to both of them - but she pushes past wanting to ask him about it and instead flips her hand around to briefly link her fingers with his. “You’re right. They are. And I’m proud of mine.”

“But you refuse to wear a uniform?”

The urge to shudder crawls up her spine but she controls that, as well. “Hate the things. Way too unflattering, way too uncomfortable. Besides, David decided we didn’t really need them since it’s such a small department. As long as we don’t come in wearing sweatpants, he’s okay with it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, almost immediately. “There was a time when I was younger that I was sure I wouldn’t, but I do now. By the way, Regina approved our budget for upgrades. I’m sitting down on Monday and just going to town online shopping for all the things we need. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get everything we want and still have some left over.”

“That’s fantastic,” he exclaims, looking genuinely happy for her. She’s so unused to this kind of support and attention, but she’s certainly not going to complain. 

When their food arrives, they slow down a little bit but not by much. Back and forth they ask and answer, between bites of food and avoidance of the hard stuff - both in liquor and life experiences. There’s plenty to be talked about there: Emma has a metric ton of shit in her history and she knows she’ll have to talk about it eventually, but eventually isn’t today. By the time they’ve ordered dessert, she’s more relaxed than she’s ever felt on a date before. They only ordered one of the delectable selections, something that’s ice cream and delicious and not the standard tiramisu. As the check arrives, Killian reaches for his wallet and Emma grabs for her purse. At that, his eyebrow pops up.

“I’ve never been on a date with a woman who pulled out her wallet at the end,” he admits. “Would you prefer to split or would it be okay if I paid for the both of us?”

“I’ve never been on a date with a man who asked,” Emma says, gesturing for him to go on as she tucks her handbag away again. “Did you have a choice to work in NYC when you moved here?” Even though they talked about the Storybrooke location earlier, she realizes she never asked him that. 

“No. Robin specifically hired me to be a junior editor in this office.”

“Would you have preferred to work there instead of here?”

“Not at all,” Killian says without even a second of hesitation. The quickness surprises her, just like so much constantly does with him. “I was working in London and living right on the outskirts of the city when I applied for this position. I’d had enough of bustling and tourism and noise. When Robin told me I’d be moving to a town in Maine that had a population of less than ten thousand, it felt like the right move. And now that I’m settling in, I know I’ve made the right choice.”

“I may be biased, but I think you did, too.”

With the bill all settled, they exit the restaurant into the cool night air, with Emma’s hand tangled with Killian’s. She noticed that the patrons all glanced as they came and went, but Emma hopes that she and Killian are yesterday’s news before too long. It’s probably the only downside to this small town that they all feel the need to gossip like wildfire. 

He opens the car door for her again, letting his fingers trail across hers as he releases her hand and sends little shocks of heat along her skin. 

Killian walks her all the way to her door, his thumb gently rubbing against hers as they climb the stairs. She turns when they get to her door, slipping a little bit into his personal space.

“Well, not bad,” she says, reaching down and taking his hand and hook in her hands. “You managed to make me forget that I’ve spent the last three days trying to get oil spots out of my jeans thanks to an unfortunate call to Billy’s shop the other day.”

“That’s an easy, three-step process if you’d like my assistance.”

“In that case, wanna come in for some coffee and stain removal?”

He hums, stepping forward so they’re toe-to-toe, their noses brushing as she’s just at the same height with her heels on. When he speaks, his breath tickles her lips and she frees up her hands in favor of running them up the lapels of his jacket to rest on his shoulders. 

“Aye, but first, I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” he tells her, his voice low and husky and everything she wants to hear right now.

Then his lips are on hers and she’s perfectly fine with not hearing his voice because she’d rather be doing this anyway. Carefully, without breaking the kiss, she inches backwards until she can lean on the door, pulling Killian against her and letting all her thoughts leave for the moment. She doesn’t put out on the first date, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do anything else, right? His grip on her hip feels as tense as she is, and she finally stops so she can get her door unlocked. 

When it swings open, however, her apartment isn’t dark and empty like she left it, and she jolts away from Killian in surprise at Snow propped on her breakfast bar and David standing behind her counter. 

“Hey! We weren’t sure when… oh!”

Clearly, the other couple hadn’t expected Killian to still be attached to Emma when they hatched a plan to come see how it went instead of waiting until the next day. Emma glances at Killian to see the amused smile on his face. She also sees that this is where the train stops tonight, and she sighs. 

“Give us a second,” Emma says to her family as she crowds Killian back into the hallway for some semblance of privacy; she knows how thin her door is. “Do you still want to come in and have coffee? Probably get the concerned-father speech from David?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time for all of that,” he says, definitely not unkindly but there’s a hint of disappointment that this is where their evening ends, and she knows the feeling. 

“Next time, huh? I don’t remember asking.”

“That’s because it’s my turn,” he tells her, his voice light and playful. Just as quickly, he gets a serious look in his eyes and she’s not sure a marching band coming out of her apartment would tear her attention away from him. “Will you go out with me again?”

His eyes are so sincere, his expression hopeful and patient and of course she’s going to go out with him again. She steps forward, deciding that actions are better than words right now, kissing him softly but solidly, making sure it teeters right on the edge of the heat they were producing just a few minutes ago. 

She can’t get over the way he holds her, the way his arms come around her and mold her against his body. That paired with the way he kisses her back, the low rumble he makes when her hand comes up to brush against his cheek before sliding into his hair, she almost gets lost to the sensations all over again, Snow and David be damned. 

With effort, Emma pulls back the tiniest bit, trying to catch her breath more at the way he leans his forehead against hers than the kiss itself at this point. 

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Goodnight Killian.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice sounding equally unsteady. 

She looks back at him one more time, biting her lower lip at the mirrored look on his face. 

“I need to get the locks changed,” she mutters as she opens the door to her apartment again. “So, let’s talk about how you guys broke into my apartment tonight!”

-x-

Listening to Emma re-greet David and Snow makes Killian chuckle for a moment, and he takes a big breath as he settles his blood again. This woman is already so far under his skin that it’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months since they first spoke to one another. 

He has Robin’s car until morning, so it’s a quick, warm drive home. When he steps inside, Killian closes the door and locks it behind him, turning on light after light as he walks through the rooms that he’s inhabited for almost five months. He’s restless, only because he’s already looking forward to the next moment he gets to see Emma, and as his eyes land on various boxes and empty corners, he decides to use this momentum to finish what he started the day before. 

After changing out of his clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Killian retrieves his box cutter from the kitchen from his last unpacking adventure and starts with his office. 

It’s more than past time for him to officially make this place his home.  

-x- November 4: Monday

It takes effort for Killian to crawl out of bed on Monday. It’s probably the first time in as long as he can remember that he doesn’t bounce right out of bed as soon as his eyes are open. That excludes times he’s been sick, of course. He’s only human. But he’s not sick today. He’s tired. Downright exhausted, and with every right to be so. When he finally drags his eyes open, he looks around the room at all he accomplished. Gone are the barren walls and empty hangers. Every single piece of clothing he owns is now tidily put into its place. Trudging through his morning routine, Killian still manages to smile wide when he opens his closet to the wide array of clothes all readily available. 

He’s nearly ready when he hears the horn outside, and he smiles with the knowledge that Emma is out there waiting for him. With careful movements, he pours the two mugs of coffee from his pot and rinses it out, making sure it’s turned off before heading out. 

They’ve got a good deal starting, as far as he can tell. She brings the car, he brings the caffeine, and it’s almost as good as their walks. 

He rushes to the car through the morning chill, happy to at least have his scarf and hat in place. She pushes the door open from her side when she sees he’s laden with coffee mugs pressed against his chest with the help of his left arm.

“Hi! You found some winter weather gear!”

“Aye, finally got around to a lot of things I’ve been meaning to work on,” he tells her as he settles in, shutting the door firmly against a cold blast of wind. “Brought you coffee.”

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing the mug from him and taking a sip. She reaches over, almost without thought and squeezes his wrist to emphasize her words. 

Their banter on the way to his office is as it always is, but when she stops in front of NeverEndings, there’s care in the way she leans towards him. He meets her halfway, sighing into the simplicity of the kiss and wishing he could dawdle and kiss her in her car all day. 

“I have my lunch hour totally free today,” she tells him when they finally do part. “Want me to swing by?”

“I have a meeting with Henry this morning. I’m not quite sure how long it’ll go, but stop in and we’ll see?”

She smiles and nods, waving once as he climbs from the car and shuts the door. 

By the time Emma shows up at noon, he very clearly needs the respite. Henry is looking similarly worn down, obvious by the way the teenager is slumped in his chair, fiddling with a fidget cube that Killian keeps by his monitor for moments of extreme stress. That’s how Emma finds them, with Killian fighting off a yawn as he stares at his computer screen and Henry teetering on death by boredom. 

“Whoa. Are you guys working or just slowly melting into your seats here?”

“I’m melting,” Henry says without moving anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. 

“I’m working,” Killian adds, sitting up and stretching his neck to release the knots that are dying to form along his spine. “Darling, I’ve got just three more pages left on these edits. I’m so sorry. Would you like to stick around until we’ve finished?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

Killian sputters for a second, unsure of how to introduce them in this situation. 

“I’m Emma,” she says, saving him from anything else. “So, Killian tells me you come up for vacations?” After shifting around a couple items, Emma makes herself comfortable by perching on the edge of the desk. 

“I did, back when…” Henry trails off, and Killian can see from this angle that Emma’s face falls into something that borders on understanding. He knows that she was raised by David’s mother, but he also knows that she uses a different surname than the Nolan household, so maybe there’s a kinship that he wasn’t even anticipating between them. 

As they get lost in conversation, Killian desperately wants to keep paying attention, to absorb in the information that she hasn’t yet divulged to him, but the edits call back to him and before he knows it, he’s lost to the words in front of him once more. 

Far longer than he would’ve liked to spend on it, he’s finally at the end of the passage and he saves the file with a noise of victory. 

“Alright, lad. We’ve got it. That’s the whole thing with edits and comments now done.”

“Really?”

“Aye. The next part is all up to you. We’ll get a look at your schedule and set up another meeting in the middle of the month if you think you can handle that.”

The boy scoffs, accepting the folder and thumb drive that Killian hands over to him. “I can practically make these changes with my eyes closed at this point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Safe travels back to the city.”

With a final wave, Henry exits his office and Killian slumps down in his chair, peering around his monitor as Emma relaxes back in the chair that Henry just vacated.

“Thanks for your patience, love. How’s your day going?”

“Better than yours, it seems. I texted Ruby and she’ll have lunch waiting for us. You ready?”

“Would you carry me there?”

Emma laughs, music to his ears, and he hauls himself from his chair, taking her hand when she offers it. 

Killian’s own lunches don’t usually last very long, but he feels he’s earned the right to relax for a little bit since the first round of edits is officially done, and his “quick” morning meeting just went two hours over his proposed time slot for it.

It’s not the end of the job, of course. There will still be more edits after Henry comes back with his changes. But that’s in two weeks, and until that time, Killian can start worrying about everything else with the book. 

Not only are there design aspects to be considered, but they’ll have the company Christmas party in New York next month, which will act as some kind of debut for Henry. It’s the one time every year that all the employees and authors come together. In England, they’ll be hosting their own version of the event, but over here, it’s a chance to celebrate the creativity that’s come out of the whole year and for Robin to announce everything they’ll look forward to in the one to come. 

While he always has an outfit ready for the black tie event, he’ll also be in charge of making sure Henry is taken care of. He’ll have to ask the lad whether he has a suitable outfit. Despite being the editor for such young talent, Killian’s primary anxiety rests over getting everything done and in a timely fashion. He decided after their first meeting that Henry was more mature than a good deal of the grown men and women he’s worked with before, but in the eyes of the world, he’s still a child, and he wants them all to see Henry like he does.

After the party will be the actual book release, and the press for it. And then there’s the worry over its success or failure, of course...

“Hey, Killian.”

“Hmm?”

Emma pulls him down for a quick kiss right on the lips. “You’ve gotta let your brain rest for a couple minutes. Coffee?” 

He looks around, having missed the whole walk over to Granny’s, apparently. He sighs, letting Emma lead them up the path to the diner. “Yes, that would be helpful.”

“I might be wrong, but I feel like you’re freaking out a little bit.”

“You’re not wrong,” he admits to her. “I just want everything to be perfect. He’s so talented, but he’s young. And one wrong step could mean the book goes nowhere.”

“I don’t think you’re going to let that happen,” she says as she sheds her coat and gloves, setting them on the seat on her side of the booth before she slides in. 

Their food and drinks are placed in front of them almost as soon as they’re settled in, and Ruby gives them both a signature smile before she zips away from the table to tend to the rest of the lunch rush. 

“Told you I gave her the heads up,” Emma says, smiling at him and nodding to his food. “Dig in. How long until you have to be back?”

“I have a meeting with Robin at 2:30 to go over our progress from today,” Killian tells her, glancing at his watch and seeing that Emma’s hour is already almost up. “You want to get a box for that?”

“Nah. I already texted David and told him I would be back later than usual.”

“You’re simply a marvel, Swan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling and propping her hand under her chin and getting comfortable with her hot chocolate, clearly settling in for some quality time.

-x-

It’s weird, Emma thinks, to be the source of comfort for someone. But judging by the way Killian relaxes almost as soon as she reassures him that he’s not going to fuck up is a pretty clear indication that he’s taken the words to heart. What’s weirder is that she likes the feeling, a lot, and wants to keep being able to do this for him whenever he needs it. 

“Tell me something new today,” she urges, using the moment to take a bite of her food before he can turn it around on her. She watches carefully as he gulps, clearly already knowing what he wants to say but maybe afraid to speak the words.

“Promise you won’t let it scare you off?”

“I can try,” she says honestly, but there’s no fear sparking in her stomach, no panic in her lungs. 

“Seeing you for the first time was the moment I finally felt like I was really here - that I’d really moved to a whole new country and started a brand new job. Your hair was down. It caught the sunlight first, and then your badge did. I couldn’t get over how you looked ethereal and yet so solidly real, and you were staring at me as if you were waiting for me.”

It’s her turn to swallow hard, hearing his admission, and knowing that the day he first saw her, she was waiting for him. 

“Wow,” she finally manages. She picks at her forgotten food, the blush rising to her cheeks and the smile unable to be contained. 

“I’ve been told I could write romance novels,” he says, and it’s the seriousness of his tone mixed with the smile in his eyes that finally makes Emma grin as it calms her nerves.

“I’d buy them,” she admits.

“I could write about a hapless Brit learning all about American culture from some blonde goddess in a red leather jacket.”

“And what adventures would they go on, Killian?”

“Epic battles, Swan. They couldn’t have just any boring old story. They would need action, fighting to find each other after being separated, and when it’s all said and done they would share True Love’s Kiss and she would turn him into a frog.” She is so obviously distracted by the way his hand has reached across the table and his fingers are rubbing over her knuckles, the deep timbre of his voice, that she almost misses the last part, but she hears it, and she chortles at the picture he’s painted. 

She takes a deep breath, prepared to share something of her own. “I didn’t want to date you,” she admits. It’s like an anvil dropped in the middle of the table but if he just admitted all of that to her, maybe she can meet him halfway.

His face falls, and she hurries to continue.

“Not like that,” she says reassuringly, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize. “I had this idea that you would just be this stranger I passed on the street every day and that would be enough. And then we started talking and I thought - okay, this is cool. We can be friends.” She laughs even thinking of it, at the sheer absurdity that she was so sure there would be nothing between them.

“You started it,” he says. “You kissed me first.”

“Yeah? So let’s talk about setting up that second date.”

“Well, I’ve finally finished moving into my flat, so I think it would be nice to have someone over to see it without towers of boxes invading each room.”

“I think that sounds like a good plan.”

There’s a thought that flashes through her mind that adds together one part Killian, one part dinner, one part alone, and it takes her a moment to pull her mind from the gutter once more. Especially when she thinks of how they were interrupted before he could come inside after their first date. 

But more than for anything like that, Emma thinks about how nice it’ll be to have something closer to a quiet night - there won’t be any townspeople staring at them and taking notes to pass around to all their friends. No one will take notice of them leaving and speculate about what’s about to happen next. Plus, the idea of Killian cooking is quite appealing. 

“Saturday?” she asks before they part ways after lunch is over.

“Saturday sounds perfect,” he reassures her. And while she’s already excited for it, she also knows they have a whole week of little moments like this to look forward to. 

-x-

Chapter 7

[shootwinterfest]

WINTER MYSTERY - NEW STORY from ASLEEPINAWELL for Shoot Secret Santa!

Winter Mystery by @asleepinawell

also here on AO3! 

"The snow is really coming down now," Reese said as he shut the door behind him.

Shaw inched slightly closer to the fireplace to escape the cold air that had invaded the room when Reese had opened the door. "At this rate we're going to be stuck here tomorrow." 

"At least tomorrow," Root agreed as she swept into the room. She handed a mug down to Shaw before settling in front of the fire herself on the other side of Bear. "The Machine says the snow plows won't be able to get through up here until Tuesday."

Shaw took a cautious sip of her hot cocoa. Yep, definitely spiked, thank god. If she was going to spend the next few days crammed into a cabin in the middle of nowhere with the whole team, then she was going to need some alcohol. 

"How're we supposed to help our number if we're stuck here?" Fusco asked from the chair in the corner. He'd tried to sit by the fire earlier, but Shaw had sent him away for hogging all the heat. Root only got fire privileges because she'd resorted to cocoa bribery.

"Well, the good news is that our number is snowed in as well," Root said. "It'll be hard for anyone to get to them with all the roads closed." She reached across Bear to try to steal Shaw's mug, but Shaw saw her coming and pulled it back out of reach with a warning glare.

"Good thing I packed some extra snacks," Shaw mused as she sipped her cocoa. "The freezer here is stocked full of nothing but microwavable mac and cheese. Gross."

"What'd you bring?" Reese asked, a little too innocently.

Shaw's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "None of your business and no, I'm not sharing. You should have thought of it yourself."

"You're not sharing?" Fusco asked, outraged. "We could all starve here, you know?"

"Way too much shitty mac and cheese for that to happen," Shaw assured him. She eyed the others, looking for any suspicious expressions. Maybe she should hide her food stash before she went to bed, just in case.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Root said, patting her on the knee. "There's only one snack I want in this house."

Shaw choked on her cocoa.

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

It wasn't that Shaw hadn't trusted the Machine when she'd assured them (through Root) that the house was well-stocked with food in the event of them getting stuck, it was that she hadn't trusted the Machine's taste in food, a fear which had turned out to be correct. Thus the small pack full of supplies Shaw had brought for herself. None of it was too fancy: coffee, tea, and cocoa packets, trail mix, a couple types of jerky, a chocolate bar, some pop tarts, cookies, marshmallows (for the cocoa), and a bottle of whiskey. Certainly not fancy dining material, but still, it was stuff with more flavor and texture than frozen dinners and tap water.

"You know, if you hide that somewhere I won't be able to make you surprise spiked chocolate again," Root pointed out once they'd retired to the room they were sharing.

Shaw hesitated over the bag. Root had a point. But…. "That sounds like something someone would say if they were planning to steal my food."

Root paused in mid-stroke of brushing her hair to cast a disdainful look at Shaw. "Sweetie, I'm not interested in your pop tarts."

"That's just what you want me to think." She zipped the pack up and looked around the little bedroom. It was the largest bedroom in the place, but it was still tiny and there wasn't anywhere obvious to hide anything.

Root set aside her brush and sat down on top of the heavy wool blanket on the bed. "When you're done being paranoid about your snacks, come to bed and I'll show you what I'm actually interested in."

That was too good an offer to pass up and Shaw ended up shoving her pack under the bed. If someone wanted to steal it they'd have to get in here without waking her up and good fucking luck with that.

She did make one detour before joining Root, though, to twitch one of the curtains aside and look out at the snow falling.

"We're going to be lucky if we can even get the front door open tomorrow." She could barely see the trees through the heavy snowfall.

"Being stuck here for a few days doesn't have to be the worst thing ever," Root said as Shaw shut the curtains. "I can think of plenty of ways to pass the time."

"Be a lot better if we weren't sharing a tiny cabin with the boys," Shaw said. She walked back to the edge is the bed and, when Root tugged on her arm, let herself be pulled down into the warm blankets and a tangle of limbs. "Guess it's their own damn fault if they didn't bring earplugs though," she decided.

"They'll get over it," Root agreed.

They were both thoroughly exhausted by the time they finally fell asleep. Root, always the late sleeper, might have slept until noon if she hadn't been awoken by Shaw's outraged yell. When she rolled over to see what the fuss was, she found Shaw standing next to the bed looking grim.

"My pack is gone."

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

Root was tired, cold, and (because of the first two things) grumpy. She'd had a lovely evening with Shaw in their isolated snow-bound cabin, gotten to go to sleep in a very warm, soft bed, but then been rudely awoken and dragged downstairs to the living room with the boys and accused of petty thievery. The only upside to the whole thing was that Shaw was currently being unbearably adorable in her efforts to unmask the supposed criminal.

"The facts are these," Shaw stated as she paced in front of the fireplace. "Last night I put my own personal pack with my possessions in it under my bed."

"Our bed," Root corrected.

Shaw rolled her eyes. Her hair was still messy from sleeping but pulled back in a loose ponytail, strands escaping everywhere, and her whole face still looked soft from sleep despite her current level of focus. It contrasted nicely with her stern tone and Root couldn't help but smile fondly while she watched her even if it made Shaw look more annoyed.

"Fine, the bed Root and I both slept in."

There was a soft snicker from behind her in the room. John, probably. Neither he nor Fusco had been awake when Shaw had announced the mandatory team meeting.

"Despite the fact I didn't hear anyone come into the room all night, this morning, my pack had mysteriously vanished. Since we're currently snowed in at an isolated cabin, the only viable suspects are the people in this room."

"You seriously think one of us took your food?" Fusco asked. "Seems to me that the most likely suspect was the person already in the room with you then."

Shaw turned her suspicious stare on Root for half a second and then shook her head. "Everyone is a suspect right now. The door was open this morning when I woke up and it was definitely shut when I fell asleep."

"Oh, that part was definitely my fault," Root admitted. "Bear was scratching at the door and I let him in. I left the door cracked in case he wanted to leave."

"He was?" Shaw looked down at where Bear was snoozing near her feet. "I don't remember hearing him."

"Yes, well, you were pretty worn out," Root said, perhaps a bit smugly.

"If the door was already open, then anyone could easily have snuck in," Shaw said. "Or Root could have smuggled the pack out when she let Bear in."

"Or Bear could have stolen it," Root pointed out. 

"Bear would never! You take that back!"

John cleared his throat. "It's six am. Can we go back to sleep and sort this out later? You can search the place while we're passed out so you know no one will be eating your stash."

"No one is sleeping until the thief comes forward and returns what they took." Shaw turned her full attention to John. "Where were you last night?"

John was sprawled on the couch wearing pajamas that looked like...a suit. "In my room with headphones on until I fell asleep. I only left it to use the bathroom once."

"And do you have any way to prove that?"

"How would I do that?"

Shaw looked back at Root. "I'd like to call the Machine as a witness."

It was Root's turn to roll her eyes. Shaw was being very cute with this whole righteous detective act, but she was really tired and would rather go back to bed and continue using Shaw as a heat source. "She's been having a hard time maintaining a clear signal with the storm, and also there's no cameras set up here so Her information would be limited."

"Reese and Fusco both have phones."

"True."

"Skynet spies on our phones?" Fusco asked in horror.

"There's a total of twenty three different organizations spying on the average phone at any given time. Trust me, She's not the one you need to worry about. She doesn't care about the websites you visit that you delete from your phone history." Root smirked at the terror on his face. "Private browsers tabs aren't really private, Lionel. How long have you been working with us now?"

John looked thoroughly amused by Fusco's discomfort, so Root added, "And John is no exception, though I'm disappointed in his taste." She didn't have any clue what either of them looked at since the Machine actually believed in privacy for some reason, but she must have hit a nerve because the smile fell off John's face.

"None of this matters," Shaw cut in. She pointed at Fusco. "What did you do last night?"

Fusco was bundled up in a threadbare purple bathrobe in an armchair in the corner. He looked even more tired than Root felt.

"Me? I tried to get my beauty sleep and regretted thinking Reese was kidding about the earplugs thing."

"And you didn't leave your room at all?" Shaw asked.

"No, I...wait, I did. Got up to use the bathroom some time in the night, no clue when. I did see someone else up and about but it was dark and they were at the far end of the hall so it could have been anyone."

"The far end of the hall, as in near the door to my room?" Shaw asked. "Did you see how tall they were?"

Fusco squinted at her. "Yeah, now that I think of it they were really short. Maybe about five foot three. Sound like anyone here?"

"Maybe you stole your own food in your sleep, Shaw," John said, amusement in his voice. 

Shaw crossed her arms, her biceps flexing in a threatening way that caused both the boys to stop laughing and Root to have a sudden shift in reasons for wanting to go back to bed.

"This cabin isn't that big and there's nowhere to hide," Shaw said with way more icy intensity than Root thought was strictly necessary for the situation even if it was extremely hot. "It's only a matter of time before I find out who took it." She turned and headed back up the stairs, leaving the others in uneasy silence.

"Shorty really likes her pop tarts, huh?" Fusco asked.

"And how did you know she had pop tarts, Lionel?" Root asked with a smile that was mostly teeth.

"Because I saw when she bought them at the rest stop on the way here," Fusco said, trying to inch his chair away. "Why don't you go talk to her instead of threatening me? You know none of us did it."

"I know nothing of the sort." She stood up and brushed herself off. "I suggest that if either of you are responsible, that you make her pack reappear before she comes back downstairs."

"And how do we know you aren't the one who took it?" John asked.

"You don't."

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

Shaw returned to her room after she finished her second sweep of Reese's room. Root had come upstairs while she was away and was fast asleep in bed again, curled up on her side under all the thick blankets with Bear next to her. The whole scene was kind of endearing despite Shaw's general state of annoyance.

It wasn't like a bunch of junk food even mattered that much; it was the principle of the thing. She doubted Root was the culprit, even if she would have had the easiest access. Though she wouldn't put it past Root to cook up some trouble to keep her entertained while they were stuck. She'd probably consider it some sort of cute gift or something.

There were several feet of snow on the ground outside now and the house was chilly as fuck and Shaw was tempted to crawl into bed next to Root and sleep in the warmth and forget about this whole thing, but.... But she really wanted some goddamn coffee and the almost-acceptable instant coffee she'd packed was worlds better than the shit in the kitchen. 

She decided it was time to be practical about the whole thing. The next step any sane and logical human would take at this point would clearly be to draw a detailed diagram of the crime scene and map out all the possibilities.

Root knocked her map on the floor when she rolled over fifteen minutes later. Shaw cursed and reached down to retrieve it. It wasn't her fault that there'd been nowhere else to spread out her research. 

"Sameen? What time is it?" Root still looked cranky and her eyes weren't quite open yet.

"It's nine." 

"That's still too early," Root grumbled. She rolled over so her head butted up against Shaw's leg and cuddled grumpily against her.

"You tell me who took my food and we can nap all day." That was a lie, but Shaw felt entitled. She was the victim here.

"If I admit to it, can we go back to sleep? It was terrible of me, and you can spank me later."

Tempting for several reasons, but…. "Did you actually?"

"No." The one word was infused with infinite crankiness.

"Then no deal."

Root sighed and then opened her eyes. "Fine, let's get to the bottom of this then." 

"That's what I've been saying--" Shaw trailed off at the look on Root's face. 

Root flung back the covers and jammed her feet into her bunny slippers with murderous intensity. Shaw watched in fascination as she pulled her oversized fluffy robe (pink, with a hood that had bunny ears to match her slippers) around herself and tied the sash like she was preparing for war. She grabbed her taser from the nightstand and raised an eyebrow at Shaw. 

"Well, are you coming or not?"

Shaw trailed after her, half-impressed, half-turned-on, as she hunted down both the boys and corralled them back into the living room. 

"Let's start with the obvious suspect first," Root said, her voice full of that cheerful homicidal glee that did things to Shaw. "Lionel."

She rounded on Fusco, tapping her taser against one palm while grinning at him.

"Why am I the obvious suspect?" Fusco protested, looking around nervously. 

"You're a police officer," Root said as if the answer was obvious. "Now, where did you put Shaw's pack?"

"I didn't--"

The taser crackled threateningly in Root's hand.

Fusco looked at Shaw desperately. "Hey, can you maybe keep your homicidal girlfriend from killing me?"

Shaw shrugged. "Root does what she wants. You should probably answer her question." She'd stop Root before she could do anything permanent.

"I told you, I didn't take it! Sure, I thought about it. You were so uptight about it who wouldn't have?" The taser buzzed violently again and Fusco leaned so far back in his chair he almost tilted over backwards. "I didn't touch it though! I'm not crazy enough to go into that room. Who knows what I would have walked in on?"

Root paused and tilted her head. "That's actually believable. He is pretty spineless."

"Hey!"

On a different day, Shaw might have defended Fusco from the insult, but he'd just admitted to thinking about stealing her pack to annoy her so he was on his own.

"That leaves you." Root turned on John with a bright smile. He failed to look concerned.

"Why would I take it? I actually like the microwave dinners."

"John, you're going to need a more believable excuse than that."

"No, that actually checks out," Shaw said. "He has the worst taste ever."

"Well, if none of us took it then where is it?" Root asked.

"Hey, why are you suddenly free from suspicion?" Fusco demanded.

Root raised her taser threateningly, but Shaw waved her down, suddenly concerned by something else.

"Where's Bear?"

A quick search of all their rooms turned up no Belgian Malinois. 

"Did he get outside?" Shaw wondered. She hoped he was okay out there. His paws might get cold.

"Maybe he's in the basement," Reese suggested.

"There's a basement?" This was news to her.

"Yeah, it's kind of hidden away, but I had to go down there to fight the furnace last night."

"Show me."

The door to the stairs down was hard to spot in a tiny alcove off the kitchen and Shaw had overlooked it last night. The door was also open.

"I think the mystery is about to be solved," Reese said as he led the way down.

The basement was a small, dirty room with a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and in the middle of the floor was Bear, chewing happily on a piece of Shaw's jerky. Her backpack was lying ripped open nearby, contents strewn about the floor. Bear wagged his tail nervously when they approached.

"Looks like someone was a very naughty a doggy," Root said.

"It's not his fault," Shaw protested ad she surveyed the damage. "He must have been hungry. Poor guy."

"So we get tasered, but the dog gets a pass?" Fusco grumbled.

"Let's go back upstairs," Reese said hurriedly before Shaw could react.

Shaw bent to see what was left. Fortunately Bear seemed to have ignored the chocolate and cookies and other things that might be bad for a dog's stomach, though there was drool all over everything.

"You're a smart boy, aren't you?" she said, scratching him behind the ears.

"Maybe we should bring everything out of the dirty basement," Root suggested. She had stayed behind when the other two left. "He can keep eating your food in the kitchen."

"Yeah, okay."

Twenty minutes later, Shaw was back upstairs and in bed with a mug of hot chocolate (the cocoa mix had been declared salvageable). Root was mostly asleep next to her again and Bear was at the foot of the bed snoring. Life was okay again.

Shaw felt content enough that she even allowed Root to snuggle up next to her without complaint.

"Sameen, I have a confession to make."

"Hmm?"

"I may have seen Bear take your pack last night."

"What? Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I was going to, but your little detective routine was adorable and then I got to threaten the boys and that's always fun."

Shaw was tempted to pour her chocolate on Root, but that would have been a waste.

"Well maybe you get to sleep on the couch the rest of the time we're here."

"Is that really what you want?" Root snuggled closer and brushed her lips across Shaw's neck with just the tiniest hint of teeth.

"Maybe," mumbled Shaw without much conviction.

"I'll make it up to you if you let me sleep for another hour."

"Fine. Better be a really good apology."

"Mmm." Root was already drifting back off, her head on Shaw's shoulder. 

Shaw sipped her hot chocolate, listened to the soft sounds of Root breathing, and watched the snow fall outside the window. All things considered, it was a pretty nice day.

[geralehane]

Day 3: A Christmas Carol

where clexa are slayers, raven’s a witch, and lexa’s haunted by the spirit of christmas movies. it’s a trip y’all. ***

It doesn’t take too long for Lexa to realize something is terribly wrong. First, she wakes up from a particularly vivid dream-rendition of A Christmas Carol where the ghosts of past, future, and present – all suspiciously looking like Raven – gleefully demonstrate how awful her life might turn out if she doesn’t get excited about Christmas (and, strangely, about the new Cats movie, which is worrying in and of itself). Then she discovered that someone incredibly dedicated to giving her diabetes has swapped all the products in her fridge and on her shelves with candy canes. And other various vaguely Christmas-themed candy. Which could be a simple prank that reeked of Raven’s usual shenanigans, and it’s not like it would’ve taken the resident witch any effort to pull this off. Lexa isn’t well-versed in magic, but she’s sure something like this is a matter of Raven merely snapping her fingers. 

Raven, however, informs her that it’s not, in fact, that simple. “I would have to spend about an hour that I don’t have,” she tells her over the phone, unusually grumpy. Lexa glances at the clock and winces. “An hour that I’d rather spend sleeping in. Is the concept of weekend that foreign to you?” 

“Slayers don’t get days off,” she reminds her. 

Raven scoffs and promptly hangs up, so Lexa decides to try her luck again at a more reasonable hour. She’s about ninety percent sure it’s the witch. Another ten percent goes to her fellow slayer who’s definitely sleeping in right now and it would be no use even attempting to have a conversation with her before noon. She sighs. It’s not really a matter of life or death, so she settles on simply getting ready for the day and having breakfast at a diner. A decision she makes after discovering spaghetti drenched in chocolate sauce in one of the pots. 

Sick even for you, Reyes, she thinks with a shudder and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

Okay, so maybe it takes her a good hour to realize this isn’t a matter of a simple prank. But it’s only after she stops two particularly unlucky robbers from breaking and entering her apartment and then running into a neighbor she’s pretty sure she’s never had any interactions with before but who was adamant his Christmas decorations were going to be so much better than hers that she texts the entire group. And that’s how she finds herself at Raven’s, struggling to maintain her cool. 

“What do you mean,” she says slowly, through gritted teeth, “I’m being haunted by Christmas movies?” 

Raven shrugs while Anya and Octavia are trying not to burst out laughing. “What you just said.” 

“That,” Clarke utters with a surprisingly straight face, “has gotta be the most hilarious thing ever. Oh, come on,” she huffs when Lexa shoots her a look. “You’re literally living through all the Christmas classics. It’s cute and fluffy and adorable.” She pauses for a moment, thoughtful. “Which is everything you hate, so this is basically your nightmare. I guess it’s not that fun. For you, I mean.” 

Before Lexa has a chance to bare her teeth, Raven speaks up again. “Uh, I didn’t say classics. I just said movies. Any Christmas movies are a fare game.” 

“So…” Octavia starts, before her eyes widen. “Wait. Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

“As is Black Christmas. And Krampus. Don’t forget Krampus,” Anya adds. Suddenly no one is laughing anymore. Even Clarke bites her lip in concern. “Well. Fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always,” Lexa deadpans, and turns to Raven. “Undo it,” she demands. 

Raven, no doubt, has already listed about a dozen Christmas-themed horror flicks in her head, because she only utters on it instead of her predictable snark and hurries to her bookshelf, Octavia and Anya in tow. 

Lexa lets out a tired sigh and rubs at her temples. Her mind’s working quickly, trying to figure out who could possibly be behind this admittedly clever curse. None of the demons they ran into this month seemed the kind to pull something like that off. No, this is intelligent. Which makes it so much more dangerous. 

“Hey.” Clarke’s soft voice startles her, and she scowls after she almost jumps at the sound. What a slayer, she thinks sourly. “We’ll figure this out.” 

“I know.” Her curt reply, however, doesn’t seem to placate the other slayer who’s still giving her a weird look of almost… compassion? She shrugs it off, standing up. “I’m gonna go to Murphey’s bar, ask around. Maybe someone’s seen something suspicious.” 

Clarke’s immediately on her feet, too, and she looks incredulous, to say the least. “You’re gonna go to a demon bar after we just found out there’s a giant target on your back?” 

I can handle it is there, at the tip of her tongue, biting and cold, but she manages to stop just in time. As different as they are, Clarke’s right. She’s just… restless. She tells her as much. 

“Yeah.” That, Clarke can agree with. “I just want to slay something. I’m buzzing with anger.” 

That takes Lexa by surprise. Then again, this is slayer business. Clarke takes that seriously, at least. 

*** 

They go through what seems to be an endless number of pages, and Raven calls several friends before they manage to figure out the type of the curse. Raven tells her, grimly, that she can’t exactly end it. 

“It will wear off in a day, and I can limit the dangers,” she says before Lexa can implode. “So you won’t die and you won’t have to slay fucking Krampus. You will be mildly inconvenienced till tomorrow.” 

Lexa sighs. “Fine. That works. Tell me we can track down the person who did it.” 

The witch only shakes her head. “I’m not sure,” she admits. “Now, sit still.” 

*** 

All in all, it’s not so bad. The mysterious caster reveals herself and, to Lexa’s utter embarrassment, turns out to be a rather spiteful witch she had an affair with several years ago. Clarke won’t stop making the woman scorned jokes the entire evening after Lexa manages to sort it out with her barely-ex. Which is the point she’s currently trying to make as Clarke and her sit on her couch and alternate between swigs of beer and candy cane bites. 

“We never dated,” she grumbles. “And I explicitly told her that. And as soon as feelings became involved we had a long, honest talk and amicably split.” 

“Why’d you split if you were never together?” Clarke asks, tongue-in-cheek and a candy cane pointed at Lexa, and she has to admit that she got her there. The blonde slayer looks proud of herself, and Lexa can’t bring herself to be grumpy about it. It’s not often she gets to see this side of Clarke. Goofy and relaxed and young, instead of guarded and closed-off. If all it takes to get them to be if not friends then at least friendly acquaintances are Lexa’s romantic failures, she’ll download Tinder tomorrow. 

“Alright,” Clarke chuckles, lightly, after a yet another dig. “Guess she didn’t’ get the memo that you don’t date.” 

Lexa blinks. “I do date,” she clarifies. “Well, not at the moment, but I do in general. I’m not… against the concept.” 

“Huh,” Clarke says, then, and something in her eyes is both unreadable and alluring; enough for Lexa to blink away the slight haze of alcohol and think of leaning in. “The more you know.”

“Do you?” Lexa has to ask, of course, because why not push her luck on this already bizarre day. “Do you date?” she elaborates when Clarke tilts her head to the right, confused. 

The blonde slayer wets her lips. “Not at the moment,” she replies, voice low, charged with energy Lexa’s afraid to misinterpret, “but I do in general.”

She dares to lean closer when Clarke speaks again. “I was worried about you, you know. Today. It wasn’t just a slayer thing to me. I want you to know that.” 

“Do you read minds now?” Lexa murmurs, too surprised to cover it with sarcasm. 

Blue eyes shine in the low light of her apartment. “No. I just pay attention. Maybe,” she lets out a quiet laugh. “Maybe I should’ve paid even more.” 

Lexa doesn’t lean in more, but Clarke does end up staying, diffusing the sudden tension with an offer to watch a Christmas movie that Lexa tries to indignantly refuse but ends up caving anyway.

In the morning, she wakes to an empty apartment and a knock on the door, and she doesn’t even pretend to hide her smile when it’s Clarke standing on the other side. “Weren’t you just there on my couch?” She implores, leaning against her doorframe with a lopsided smirk.

Clarke grins. Lifts her finger up to her lips and then lifts a big card with say it’s carol singers written on it in her infamously bad handwriting. 

She feels like howling with laughter. “Seriously? Love, Actually? Am I a joke to you?” Then, something occurs to her and her eyes widen. “Wait. Shit. The curse was supposed to be—”

“This isn’t the curse,” Clarke interrupts, still grinning. “And I did contemplate holding you hostage in an office building but that would’ve required a bit more effort and I don’t feel like we are at that stage yet.” 

Now that is an eyebrow-raising sentence. “Oh? So there are stages?” 

Clarke gives her a look. “Are you going to invite me in for breakfast that hopefully doesn’t include candy canes?” 

She pushes off her doorframe and feels her smile widening as she retreats back into the apartment and to the kitchen. “I’m not inviting you in – not with our line of work. But there are eggs and some toast.” 

(She does lean in later that afternoon, and Clarke tastes like laughter and strawberry jam.)

[hysterialevi]

When the Devil Cries pt. 8

Author’s note: A bit shorter than my other chapters, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :) 

From Arthur’s POV

NOON

BLUEWATER MARSH

Watching the gators feed on Middleton’s corpse as blood flooded through the swamps, I observed the morbid scene from a distance and bid farewell to the assassin, still thinking about the fight I had with him not too long ago.

I knew next to nothin’ about Thatcher, or what his business with Eddie was...but something in my gut told me I had just killed a man who was better off left alone.

After all, Middleton seemed like the type of feller to have friends in high places, and I could only imagine the sorta folks I’d pissed off by putting a knife in his throat. 

A troubled sigh escaped me.

Lord...what had I gotten my sorry ass into this time?

Not only did I murder a man today, I also just fed him to a bunch of beasts like some goddamned animal. I knew I weren’t no saint, but even then...I still had some twisted sense of honor to keep my sanity from deteriorating completely.

But perhaps...it was already too late. Perhaps my sanity crumbled the minute Dutch and I fled from Blackwater. Or even before that.

I just didn’t know anymore.

Turning away from the gators, I lightly snapped my horse’s reins and galloped out of the marsh, hurrying my way back to Saint Denis while the day was still young. 

I had left Eddie alone for much longer than I was comfortable with, and despite Thatcher being gone now...I still couldn’t stop myself from worrying about the pianist’s safety.

I mean, someone clearly wanted that man dead. But who? And why? What had Eddie done to get an assassin sent after him? 

Was this boy really who I pegged him to be?

Or was he just another crook wearing a mask...like the rest of this damned country? ...Like me? I certainly hoped not.

Whatever happened, I doubted our problems would end here. 

If I recalled correctly, one of the first things Eddie told me was that he was also lookin’ for freedom. But from what? Debt? Middleton? Both?

Well...Eddie did say he was gonna explain it all later, so I guessed I’d find out soon enough. 

I just had a feelin’ I weren’t gonna like the answer. 

A WHILE LATER

SAINT DENIS, RYAN RESIDENCE

Riding up to Eddie’s house, I quickly hitched my horse next to Thatcher’s mount -- who I didn’t think realized his owner was dead just yet -- and hurried inside, constantly checking over my shoulders to make sure no one was followin’ me. 

Barely half of the day had passed, and already I’d dug myself into a deeper hole than the one Dutch was currently workin’ on. 

I mean, technically, what Middleton said was right. None of this was any of my business. I had no need to get involved. No need to protect Eddie. And yet...I just couldn’t stay out of it. I couldn’t walk away...no matter how much I probably should have.

There was just somethin’ holding me back. Something preventing me from doin’ what I normally did, and leaving people to their own problems. 

Dutch, Hosea, and I...we was strugglin’ enough -- what with all the Pinkertons and lawmen and O’Driscolls on our tail. The last thing they needed was for me to go and throw some more bullshit onto their plate.

But...regardless of whatever regrets or second thoughts I had, it was far too late to back outta this now. 

Thatcher Middleton was dead. And Eddie Ryan was alive. 

All because of me. 

And I was just gonna have to live with that.

Rushing back into the house, I wasted no time in climbing the steps to where Eddie was, only to come across the most peculiar scene once I reached the second floor. 

Instead of wiping away a puddle of blood like I was expecting him to be doing, it looked like the boy had already cleaned up the mess and was now silently sitting at his piano, staring blankly at his notes while his head hung low in fatigue.

He weren’t playing any music...and I didn’t even think Eddie had realized I was there yet. He just appeared rather...depressed. Emotionless. Like the life in his body was just...gone.

It was the first time I’d ever seen him like this, and it...well, it concerned me. 

What was goin’ on?

Slowly walking into the quiet room, the floor creaked underneath me as I cleared my throat and knocked on the doorframe, alerting him of my presence before leaning on a nearby wall.

I hesitated for a moment.

“...Erm...Eddie?” I called. “It’s me. I’m back.”

Almost instantly, the pianist turned around at the sound of his name and faced me, his expression covered in distress.

“Oh...Arthur!” Eddie greeted, his mood lightening with relief. “You’ve returned. Are you okay? Did anyone see you? Were you followed?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. What ‘bout you? Anything happen here while I was gone?”

“No,” he replied. “One lawman showed up to ask me what the gunshot was all about, but I managed to shoo him away with a made-up excuse.”

“Good,” I said, stepping next to the piano. “...Now, you mind tellin’ me just what exactly is going on here? What did that bastard want with you?”

Eddie turned back to the piano, mindlessly tracing his hand across the keys.

“It’s a long story,” he explained, “but basically...I owed Thatcher a lot of money.”

I chuckled, taking a seat beside him on the bench. 

“I guessed that. But...why was he after you? What is happening, Eddie? ...Who did I just kill?”

The musician let out a defeated sigh, clearly not comfortable with talking about this. 

“Listen, Arthur. I appreciate what you did for me today -- I really do -- but the last thing I want is to drag you into this mess. I can’t risk your safety as well as mine.”

I persisted.

“If you’re in some sorta trouble, Eddie, I wanna help.”

“I know,” he responded. “That’s what worries me. Though, I suppose...after the way you saved my life...you deserve to know the full story. If you’re willing to listen, of course.”

I nodded in an understanding manner. “I am.”

Eddie glanced away for a second and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for my reaction. 

Just how bad was his situation, exactly?

“Well,” he began, “first things first, then. Eddie Ryan...isn’t my real name.”

Nice to see he was easin’ me into this.

“Then what is it?” I asked. The boy looked me in the eye, his gaze filled with both freedom and anxiety. It was like he was finally takin’ off a mask, but scared to see what I’d think of the person hiding behind it.

Eddie gulped. 

“...Theodore,” he confessed. “Theodore Bishop.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it’s just ‘cause I ain’t never been to England, but that name don’t really mean much to me. You a...fugitive or something? A wanted man?”

He quickly shook his head. “No! Nothing like that. In fact, I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just because of my father that I’m in this mess.”

I scoffed. “O’ course. It’s always the father, ain’t it? Believe me, I know what that feels like. But...what’d your daddy do?”

Eddie’s shoulders slouched a bit with calmness, and he didn’t appear as tense as before. I guessed he had been waitin’ for a while to get this off his chest.

“Well, when he was still alive, my father worked as a criminal. He always got involved with the local gangs in London despite my mother’s protests, and there was one man in particular that he befriended. A man named Atticus Rose. He’s a gang leader who originally came from America, actually.”

I quirked a brow. “That so?”

“Yeah. I don’t know too much about his past, but apparently Rose used to operate in a place called New Austin.”

I let out a soft laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Even now, New Austin is next to lawless, and the word ‘civilization’ don’t even exist out there. Makes sense that someone like him would come outta that desert. But...you said your daddy befriended him?”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Or, at least, he thought he did. See, Atticus and my father were mates for years. Half a decade, I would estimate. They were almost like brothers. And despite being a criminal, Atticus always treated me with kindness. Though...it’s clear to me now that it was all just an act.”

I had to admit, that seemed like a bit much even to me.

“Wait, Rose pretended to be your father’s friend for half a decade...and it weren’t even real? Why?”

“Because my family had money,” Eddie replied. “And Rose wanted it. So, he got close to my father, bled him dry of all his wealth, and then...assassinated the man when he was done. Thing is, though: Atticus only planned to kill my father in the beginning.”

I readjusted myself on the bench. “What changed?”

“My father exposed him. That’s what. Just before he was murdered, my father managed to unveil Rose’s true intentions to me and my family, and told us to run. That’s why I came to America. But, of course, Atticus couldn’t let us get away. Loose ends, and all that. So, he sent Middleton to hunt us down. Another ‘good friend’ of my father’s.”

I glanced at the notch in the wall from where Thatcher’s knife stabbed through the wood, thinking back to the whole mess with him.

“But...Middleton didn’t kill you?”

“No,” Eddie confirmed. “And I don’t know why. That bastard killed my father, my mother, and my sister, but for some reason...he was willing to spare me. At least, in exchange for money. Still though, I always found it odd that he agreed to my deal. I may not have known Thatcher that well, but he never struck me as the kind of man to make exceptions.”

I let out a breath in place of the absence of words, unsure of how to even respond.

“I...don’t really know quite what to say,” I admitted. “I’m sorry you’re goin’ through all this, Eddie.”

The boy beamed at me, bringing back that smile I had grown to be so familiar with.

“Don’t be. I know you weren’t aware of who Thatcher was when you killed him...but you avenged my family, Arthur. Somewhat, anyways. After all, Atticus Rose still lives. And he’s the one who’s truly responsible.”

I leaned in slightly. “You think Rose will retaliate if he finds out Middleton’s dead? And you’re still breathing?”

Eddie’s expression dimmed with fear. “...It’s...certainly a possibility. I mean, Atticus doesn’t come across as the type of man to grow attached to his allies, but I know he and Middleton had a long history together. And on top of that, he wants everyone in my family dead. So, even though I doubt he’ll come after me personally, he could very well send another assassin.”

Without even thinking about it, I placed a comforting hand over Eddie’s and looked him in the eye, making him a sincere promise.

“Then I’ll kill another one.”

The pianist paused at that and met my gaze, the confidence steadily returning to his drained face once he realized he was safe around me. 

It was pretty obvious that it had been a long time since Eddie had anyone he could trust, and when he affectionately squeezed my hand in return, I instantly knew damn well that I wouldn’t be able to leave him behind like I kept sayin’ I would.

Christ, not again, you moron... I cursed to myself, scolding the hopeless romantic inside me.

I didn’t have the strength to do this for a third time. Not after how things went Mary. And Eliza.

...I just couldn’t handle that pain again. 

I couldn’t lose someone else.

Retreating my hand with a certain fear, I awkwardly backed away from the boy and put some distance between us, scooting towards the end of the bench as I stared helplessly at the floor. 

Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could still sense Eddie’s somewhat hurt gaze falling onto me, and I felt terrible for reactin’ the way I did. But...no matter how much I disliked it, it was for the best. 

Eddie’s life was already a disaster without me fanning the flames. The last thing he needed was for me to come crashin’ into his life, trying to play the hero when we both knew the boy was better off without a lowlife criminal dragging him down.

I finally decided to tear myself away from the man and reluctantly rose from the bench, still avoiding eye contact with the musician.

“I, um...” I stumbled over my words, suddenly feeling more alone than I had in months. “...I should get going. I won’t keep you any longer. ...Good day, Eddie.”

Fleeing from the scene without looking back, I rushed out of the house like there was no tomorrow and sped through the front doors, immediately mounting my horse the minute I saw her before sprinting back to camp.

I didn’t know what the hell just happened, or what I was so damned afraid of...but something in me just...broke back there. 

The way Eddie looked at me...I had seen that face enough times to know what it was. 

That poor fool was falling for me. Slowly, but surely. 

And like the selfish bastard I was...I was lettin’ him do it. 

God...why couldn’t I just push him away? I mean, sure it would hurt, but at least he’d be safe. And I’d be able to focus entirely on the gang. We’d just go our separate ways, and pretend the other person never even existed. I could’ve ended this, here and now.

...But I didn’t. 

Instead, I simply ran away like the coward I was and left with more questions than answers, hoping that Eddie would somehow forget about me and build a true career for himself now that Thatcher was dead.

I scoffed to myself, laughin’ at the dolt I was.

Geez...I had really gone and done it this time, hadn’t I? 

I just had to get involved, and bring on whatever storm was coming our way. 

Well, no matter what happened in the future, I would always stand by what I said to the pianist, and protect him regardless of how distant we was forced to be. 

Theodore Bishop may have had a price on his head, but that weren’t the man I knew. 

His name was Eddie Ryan...and I wasn’t letting anyone lay a finger on him ever again.

ONE HOUR LATER

SHADY BELLE

Climbing off my horse, I hitched my companion with the rest of the gang’s mounts and gave her a friendly pat, feeding the girl a small treat before returning to my business.

Even with Karen and Grimshaw at each other’s necks again, things seemed mostly calm at camp, and it didn’t look like I had missed too much during my time away.

Javier was sittin’ at the campfire with his guitar while Uncle enjoyed a beer next to him, the two of ‘em singing songs as Pearson chopped away at some meat, preparing today’s stew.

Meanwhile, Mary-Beth and Tilly worked on their typical chores while enduring Swanson’s drunken ramblings, chatting to each other about the romance novels they was reading, and giggling at how silly the stories apparently were. Psh, if only they knew mine.

On top of all that though, Dutch and Hosea were keeping each other company on a balcony overlooking the camp as they discussed something -- probably the bank in Saint Denis -- while relaxing in the shade cast by the roof.

But...of course, outta all the people in the gang, the first one to greet me had to be the second grumpiest son-of-a-bitch to ever walk by our side.

“Hey, Morgan!” Bill’s sharp voice called as he paced towards me.

“...Williamson,” I said back in a blunt tone, lighting a cigarette. “What you want?”

The man studied me for a minute with that permanently sour face of his, eyeing me up and down.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He said. 

I was silent in response, urging him to go on.

“Back at the theater,” Bill recalled, “why’d you go soft on that boy? Y’know, the one who was holdin’ a gun to your head.”

I puffed out a cloud of smoke. “What you talkin’ about?

“I mean,” he reiterated, “what was that shit you was tryin’ to pull off with him? When I found you two, you were approaching him like some fool trying to tame a wild horse. Why didn’t you just beat him like you normally do?”

I furrowed my brow in annoyance, cocking my head to the side.

“You just answered your own question, dumbass. ‘Cause he was holdin’ a gun to my face. If I had done anything else, that boy woulda put a bullet between my eyes.”

Bill was unconvinced. “Oh, I doubt that. Look, Morgan, I know I ain’t the dullest tool in the shed--”

“--Sharpest.”

“Whatever. Point is: even I could tell that boy hadn’t shot no one before. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have shot you.”

I sighed. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. But -- why are we even arguin’ about this? What point are you trying to make?”

Bill gave me a cautionary glare. “I’m just saying, Morgan...it’s dangerous to make a move like that. That boy, whoever he was, nearly botched the entire robbery. If someone ever tries to do that again, we gotta beat ‘em down.”

I took a step towards Williamson, glaring directly back at him from under the rim of my hat as smoke danced from my cigarette.

“...I got it.” I whispered.

Bill backed down at that, unsure of what to say next.

Before he could do anything else though, I threw my cigarette to the ground and squished it under my boot, walkin’ away as if the conversation never happened.

Things was tense enough between me and Eddie. I didn’t need Bill to jump into the chaos with us. And Lord knew the pianist didn’t neither.

I was just concerned about what would happen if anyone in the gang actually met Eddie. I mean, Dutch was already suspicious that there was a rat among us. If he learned I was in contact with someone outside our little “family,” I could only imagine what his reaction would be. And I certainly didn’t want to find out for myself.

Regardless of the mayhem in his life, Eddie was the only person I knew who weren’t involved with this disaster. The only person who had yet to let this world’s struggles take him down. 

As for the rest of us...we were pretty much more ghosts than people. Just fightin’ to survive, but never actually living. And I sure as hell didn’t want Eddie to become like that.

His previous life as Theodore Bishop sounded harsh enough. The least I coulda done for the boy...was ensure no harm came to him in this one.

Especially not from me. 

[momorabu]

A3! Backstage Story - Spring Troupe: Training Outfits (R Cards)

Sorry for the hiatus for the past 2 weeks ><” I’vee suffering from issues on accessing my Tumblr and writing posts since nothing I wrote was able to be saved and sent =w=“ (I was also feeling under the weather... Orz) Hopefully all is well now~ *Cross fingers* 

Regarding the backstories~ I have to say... they are pretty interesting to read, and Citron’s one really help me to learn more words and improve my vocabulary ^^;

Some of the stories actually have the appearance of the members from other troupes (mainly the summer troupe’s members), so if you don’t know who they are, I greatly recommend that you check them out either at a wiki or the official website first before reading ^^;

As always, the summary of the story can be found below. Translation may not be 100% accurate due to my poor Japanese skills~

Sakuma Sakya - Burning Youth

"I” was out on the streets doing some grocery shopping in the evening one day for the night’s dinner, and had also bought the items that were requested by Sakuya and Yuki. Sakuya had almost run out of pages of his notebook for English lesson, thus “I” offered to pick one up for him when “I” passed by the bookstore. Yuki had whined when he realised that “I’m” picking up groceries to make curry again at night, remarking that eating too much curry will make one’s skin yellow. “I” offered to make something else if they had any request, and thus Sakuya requested croquette, which Yuki agreed as well. With all the items requested and the groceries bought, “my” mission was completed and it was time to head for home. As there were still time before the members who were students to reach home, “I” decided to go a long way back home just for a mood change. 

As “I” was walking along the river bank, “I” spotted a group of people jogging as part of their club activities, and felt that it seems like a youthful moment right there. Suddenly, “I” heard a familiar voice, and thinking that it belongs to Sakuya, “I” decided to head closer to the source of the voice to peek at what he was doing. As expected, it was Sakuya practising his lines near the riverbank. After watching his performance for abit longer, “I” called out to him and praised for his acting, though “I” ended up giving him a shock in the midst of it ^^; 

Sakuya had gone to the library after school, and after that, he had gone to practice the lines from some of the stage scripts he had read at the river bank. He really enjoys going to the library from time to time, remarking that as there were alot of stage troupes in this area, the library had alot of books about scripts and dramas. In fact, there were so many great books to be borrowed that Sakuya always wonder which ones he should borrow ^^ He had alot of lines that he actually wanted to act it out, but in the end, he decided to borrow just a few scripts at one go, and read them by sequence instead. 

(Aww~ Sakuya is adorable here that he shyly asked “me” if it’s alright to watch him act here from time to time. Of course “I” was glad to come and watch him ^////^)

Realising that it was quite late as the sun was about to set, we decided to head home together, and Sakuya offered to carry the groceries. “I” thanked Sakuya while informing him that “I’ve” bought his notebook and would also be making croquette tonight~ 

However... to Yuki’s dismay, it was actually curry flavoured croquette in the end for tonight’s dinner. (Guess that there’s no way to escape from eating curry for one day ^^;) 

Usui Masumi - Remembering the Taste of Curry

"I” was looking through the script one day when “I” felt hungry and decided to take a look at what’s available in the fridge. But... there wasn’t anything in the fridge, so “I” decided to make a trip down to the convenience store instead. As “I” was heading out, “I” met Tenma and the manager who requested to buy a certain type of battery and also a soft drink that claimed to give one a shock when drunk. The manager happily told us that this was recommended to him by Kazunari, and there were actually a lot of different flavours available, such as wasabi flavour and corn soup flavour. Apparently, they sound really weird to Tenma that he remarked that he won’t even drink it even if someone pleaded him.

(Well, the wasabi flavour is indeed quite a weird flavour =w=“)

When “I” head out of the house, “I” met Masumi who had just came back, and he mentioned seeing a curry bun food cart just now. “I” was of course really interested, and urged Masumi to show “me” the way to where he had last spotted the food cart. Masumi was surprised when “I” held onto his hand and blushed saying that “I’m” so proactive unexpectedly to hold his hands when we aren’t even dating yet.

(Masumi really enjoys holding hands with “me” it seems, saying that he’s willing to go with “me” even to hell as “I” hold onto his hand and pulling him towards there OWO”)

However, even if we ran as fast as we could, the food cart was nowhere in sight when we reached the spot Masumi had last seen it. "I" was convinced that the food cart was still somewhere nearby, and asked Masumi to accompany "me" to look for it. After asking around the area, the storekeeper at the fruits store informed us that he had seen the food cart driving past his store right before noon, and thus we head off in that direction to look for the missing food cart. Masumi remarked that "I" seems to be like a detective, and him being "my" assistant actually sounds pretty good~ Seeing how enthutiastic "I" am in wanting the curry bun, Masumi admitted that he wanted to be reborn as a curry bun too XD He found "me" adorable getting excited whenever "I" found yet another clue to where the food cart might be located ^^;

Finally, we found the food cart in the end and bought a curry bun. Since "I" was already really hungry after running around, "I" suggested to Masumi that we eat the curry bun and he suggested to eat at the park since it's better to eat while it's still hot. When we sat down on the benches at the park, "I" split the curry bun into two and gave half of it to Masumi, as thanks for him accompanying "me" around to look for the food cart. Even though Masumi was initially hesitant on recieving it, he took it in the end and remarked that he would never forget the taste of this curry bun, since it was the curry bun that "I" had split with him. (Aww~ This part was actually kind of sweet ^////^)

However, as we happily ate our lunch, "I" realised that "I" seems to have forgotten something... and that was Tenma and the manager who was still back at home waiting for "me" to return from the convenience store. (I don't think the heroine even bought the items she was asked to though ^^;)

Minagi Tsuzuru - Little Heart of Love

"I" had gotten "myself" two tickets to a stage play that would be held tomorrow. Even though "I" could always go by "myself", since "I" had two tickets this time, "I" decided to ask someone to go to watch the stage play with "me". Just then, "I" noticed Tsuzuru with a glum look on his face, and asked him what's the matter with him, even remarking that he seems to have aged a few years from the looks of it OWO" Tsuzuru sighed and explained that he was actually in a slump and was stuck in writing the next script currently, since he had no idea how to continue writing it. Tsuzuru wondered that perhaps it was just due to him not learning enough and was thus out of ideas of what to write in order to continue the current script he had on hand. Knowing how terrible Tsuzuru is feeling, "I" decided to invite him to watch the stage play together (since the tickets were given by the heroine's acquaitances), telling him that the stage play might help to give him some ideas that he could think about. Tsuzuru agreed and thus the two of us happily went to watch the play the next day.

After watching the stage play, we were outside of the theatre discussing excitedly on how great the play was. Tsuzuru praised that the play was really interesting and had given him some great ideas he could reference on. He thanked "me for inviting him today and said that he really enjoyed himself, seeing that he could learn more from watching the stage play, and it also gave him a mood boost at the same time. (Aww~ Tsuzuru is cute this way ^^) He continued on that he had alot of ideas that came to his mind currently, and felt that he could write his script smoothly from now on ^^

Just then, we heard a little girl crying out loud for her mother. "I" noticed that she was alone and wondered perhaps she was a lost child. Tsuzuru suggested that it would be better to bring her to the police station and decided to went forward and console the little girl. He even gave her a hug and "I" remarked that Tsuzuru seems really used in giving hugs to little children. (Well~ He has alot of little brothers that he comforts them probably lots of times already ^^;) Tsuzuru continued on to comfort the little girl that she would definitely find her mum soon since we would accompany her to look for her mum. Luckily, the little girl's mum was at the supermarket right next to her and soon came to look for her.

However, the little girl praised to her mum that Tsuzuru was really nice and gentle with her must now and she would want to marry him when she grew up XD (Aww~ That's cute~) The little girl's mother was shocked and apologised to us, urging her daughter to wave goodbye to us. The little girl started yelling that she wanted to marry Tsuzuru, which led "me" to think that Tsuzuru was amazing that he had already captured the little girl's heart in just a few minutes. (Tsuzuru can actually be a really popular guy... or maybe just among the little children ^^;) The mother scolded the little girl telling her not to be stubborn since she's causing trouble for Tsuzuru, but Tsuzuru just smiled and told the little girl that he would come for her when she grew up, and thus hoped she would wait until then. That comforted the little girl enough and thus we bid goodbye to them. After they had left, "I" told Tsuzuru that he's really good with kids, but he just sighed and said that little girls were different to handle as compared to his brothers. "I" just laughed and teased him that he's popular~ (Tsuzuru can actually be a really popular guy... or maybe just among the little children ^^;)

Chigasaki Itaru - Impure Motive

One day, "I" was heating up food in the microwave and informed Hisoka and Azuma that the microwave seems to be weird as it's not heating the food up at all. We took a closer look at the microwave to find out its problem, but only to realise that while the timer of the microwave was still working, there was no heat coming from the microwave. (Hisoka just concluded that the microwave was broken ^^;) "I" had thought about getting Tasuku to fix it, but since the microwave was getting old, "I" felt that perhaps it would be better to just buy a new one instead. Thus, "I" decided to make a trip down to the electronics store over at the shopping mall, and Azuma remarked that though he would love to accompany "me" there, he didn't want to today since it was too sunny outdoors =w= As the microwave was pretty big, he suggested "me" to find someone who had a car that could drive "me" there and bring the microwave back, and the best candidate would be... Itaru~

Azuma had commented that he had seen Itaru at the corridor near the front door earlier on so "I" decided to approach him and asked him for help. Initially, "I" had thought that Itaru would reject "me" straight away (since he's someone who would prefer to stay in his room and play games in his free time than head outdoors), but surprisingly he actually agreed to it! (Itaru even dissed that why do "I" have a surprised expression XD) Itaru commented that his games had come to a hold currently, and he was just in the mood in heading out anyway, and thus we head off to the mall!

In Itaru's car, he would get concerned whether "I" felt too hot or too cold, even offering to adjust the aircon for "me". As "I" watched Itaru drive, "I" noticed he's really good at driving and realised that he's cool handling the car in a smooth way~ (It's said that the way a guy drive a can catch a female's heart XD) When Itaru knew that "I" praised him for driving well though, he just replied with a smile that he had been driving regularly and had also practiced his driving skills from time to time when he plays racing games. (And he also diss how bad the heroine is at racing games ^^;)

We reached the electronic store in the mall, and after listening to the salesperson, "I" was hesitant in choosing which of the two microwaves that were available to "me" since they could both heat up curry well (and that's the most important thing to the heroine XD). "I" wanted to ask Itaru for his opinion, but when "I" turned around, "I" realised that he wasn't around and thus decided to went around the mall to look him. "I" ended up finding him at a game store, where he apologised that he had stopped by this store along the way. There was a game that was released today, and as Itaru had forgotten to preorder it, he decided to buy that game now together with other games that he had wanted. He was pondering on which games he should get in the end, and thus had forgotten about "me" buying the microwave in the midst of it OWO" (So why Itaru agreed to go with "me" for shopping was because he wanted to do his own game shopping too =w=") "I" was shocked to see that Itaru had lots of games in his hands, and asked him whether he had planned to buy everything. Itaru answered that this was why he was hesitant since he knew he can't buy everything, but all the games look so good to him and he wanted to play them that he doesn't know which one he should pick. (Itaru can be kind of cute this way when he's pondering which games to get ^////^) Luckily, after a while, we managed to get both our new games and new microwave in the end~

Itaru offered to carry the microwave, saying that his role in this shopping trip was to carry the heavy stuff after all. He suggested that we go around to the food corner after putting our stuff in the car since he planned to buy some junk food and also pet food of Kamekichi to be used for the next time he was on a break. "I" lectured Itaru that "I" had told him before that he should not order Kamekichi so freely like that, and... "I" would bring him food to eat when he's on break so he should eat those instead as those junk food are not healthy for him, as long as he likes to eat "my" meals. Itaru smiled and said, of course, that would be a big help to him if "I" helped him to prepare his meals, praising that the food "I" cooked was delicious and warm. He teasingly asked "me" whether "I" would like curry flavoured candies, since he planned to prepare some as "my" reward for cooking his meals >////<

Citron - Indopata Meeting (Actual meaning should be "井戸端会議", a meeting where all the ladies staying in the neighbourhood would gather and gossip.)

Citron and "I" were giving out flyers on the streets as per usual, and when the sun was about to set, we decided to call it a day. "I" told Citron that we had given out more flyers than usual, and he felt that it must be because of him since he felt that he's good at "convincing people". Even though "I" corrected Citron that it should be "he's good at giving out flyers", "I" had noticed that people were more willing to receive a flyer from Citron since he always calls out to people in a friendly and bright tone. Citron was proud and thus claimed himself at "Citron. The Nyan Nyan Flyer Flash". (What on earth is this name? =w=" Even the heroine dissed that it sounds like a name for finishing move instead ^^;)

We decided to head home and "I" asked Citron whether he knew who was in charge of making dinner tonight. Citron happily replied that it's probably Omi since he had already started preparing in the afternoon. Along the way, the vegetable store owner called Citron and thanked him for helping her in the past, offering a welsh onion as a gift. Turned out that Citron had helped the store owner by carrying boxes of cabbages in the past. Next, the fruit owner had also offered some oranges to Citron, and we also met a boy who knew Citron as well, and Citron offered him a flyer telling him that he was here to give out flyers today. (But Citron's Japanese was not good since he had mispronounced the word "flyer" as "a sushi brand" instead I think =w=") "I" realised that Citron really knew alot of people around the neighbourhood, since so many people had called out to him when he walked past them. "I" praised Citron that he seems to be good at communicating with others (as much as he's bad at pronouncing words), and that cheered him up that he told "me" to leave everything to him as he's going to be really good at giving out flyers~

[ohgoddard]

FoF:Omega.1.10.

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

The song plays alone and solemn from some forgotten record player, just out of sight. The street is sparsely busy, a few walking pairs and some with children hurriedly walking behind them. A bright sunny day, giving a slight warmth despite the autumn leaves fluttering through the air and landing upon the sidewalk. I lift a cup of coffee to my lips, enjoying the bitter taste. This cafe isn't my go-to place to go, but with the combination of the cool weather and the scenery, I just needed to sit outside and enjoy it with something warm. Though I do miss the chatter of a crowded cafe, the nice quietness of one in the early morning is nice as well. Of course, I don’t expect the street to be this busy in the morning. But the best coffee is made right when the barista wakes up, at least that is what my dad used to say. I'm certain he was pulling my leg, as coffee beans are not like apples. It has been so long since I have been able to just walk outside and enjoy life as I and no one else. I wear oranges and browns, not greys and blacks. I am my own person. And I feel like the world finally reflects that.

“Ahem.”

A shock runs through me. I didn’t hear this person coming up behind me. I would have to get used to that...Well, it shouldn’t be too hard. That's what I did for most of my life before..yeah. I turn and see a tall-ish man in some very shabby clothes. He wore an overcoat with too many straps and pockets to count. Underneath it, through no super-vision, just my perceptiveness, I saw a white button-up with a Windsor-knot tie. His rough hands went to his sharp face to remove the lit cigarette he was smoking. His skin seemed extremely pale, yet had a strange grayscale to it. His hair was black as ink, though I saw little of it under his large fedora. And before he could flick the cigarette away, I saw that his eyes had no color other than gray and black upon a sea of white. The man honestly looked like he walked out of a 40s noir detective show.

“May I take this seat?” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from my table. He had piqued my curiosity, and I needed at least some excitement in my life. I nodded, and as he sat down I noticed a little more about them. Their clothes, I thought were just shades of gray to match the season oncoming colder season, matched their skin tone in just a few shades darker. And before I could say anything, he lit another cigarette across from me. He must have seen the face I made because when he looked my way I saw a smirk come across his gray face. “Oh, don’t worry. These won’t give off a stench at all. Special kind.” His voice carried with it a sort of calm gravel sound, with a hint of a trans-Atlantic accent.

“Strange cigarettes you have then, mister. They are therapeutic, then?” I asked, taking another sip from my cup. He chuckled, dragging on his cigarette some more. “Oh, these couldn’t do anything worse to me than what's already been done. Honestly, It's become a habit at this point to just light one up. I imagine many can say that about them.” I nodded as he took another long drag. “So,” I said while watching a couple of shopkeepers arguing in the street about who gets which trashcan for the noon trash pickup, “what’s your name, stranger?”  He drops the now finished cigarette on the floor, reaching into his pocket for his pack at the same time. I was not aware that much time had passed already with him sitting here. Either that, or he goes through them very quickly. “You can call me Blanca,” he said as he put another white and black cigarette into his mouth, already smoking it. Strange, I didn’t see him light it…

“Blanca?” I said, “Strange name, who just calls their kid ‘white’?” He gave me an eyeballed look, then chuckled. A comforting chuckle it was. I had barely met him, but I felt like I have always known him. “Believe me, I didn’t choose it. It was given to me by my,er,boss. Said it fit my new disposition. Though, I don't particularly believe it was the most covert of names for what he was sending me to do most of the time. It's the type of name that people remember, and in my line of work, that's really not something you need to be doing. Less, of course, you’re looking to be the new mantle piece of some gangster that any hero who’s worth anything hasn’t gotten to yet.”

“Well now, you’re opening a whole new can of worms for me to ask about you, Mr. Blanca.” “Please, just Blanca. Mister Blanca was my father.” This time it was me who chuckled. I had a soft spot for dad jokes. “Well then, Blanca, what is it you do for a living?”

He takes a long drag, letting the question sit in the air. Noticing my hot beverage was noticeably less hot, I decide to indulge in some impromptu lukewarm-blend coffee. I took a look around at the nice evening sky and the people who were about to enjoy it. My back hurt from sitting that long in a cafe patio chair but I hadn’t seemed to have noticed until now. The setting sun began to light up the town, in a sense, as the buildings and shops all turned on their lamps and window displays to catch the nighttime shoppers. Finally, he spoke. “I am a private detective. I look for missing children, cheating husbands and wives, and employees who think they can skim a few hundred off the top and get away with it.” He said it all with such a monotonous voice it sounded rehearsed.

“How very exciting you make it sound, detective.” I stifle a laugh. He cracked a smile. “Well, when you have to explain it so many times, and when it's your line of work, the little pleasures of it all seem to drift away. Also,” he said as he dropped another one of his seemingly endless cigarettes and lit another.

“I am the Private Detective here, yet I seem to be getting interrogated like a common crook. I feel it's only fair I get to know something about the person I'm sitting with?” I hesitate. True, it would be rude, but he is a private detective. And there may still be a bounty on my head from countless countries that either doesn’t believe I'm dead or doesn't bother to remove it just in case someone finds my corpse for proof. Still, I get this feeling of trust from him. Maybe it's the smoke, reminding me of home. “My name is Kiara. Though, I don’t lead an exciting life like you do, detective. I’m a freelance journalist.” “You say that Ms.Kiara, but our two jobs are more similar than you may think. One of us just gets paid worse. I’ll let you guess who. The one in the six-year-old coat or the one drinking coffee in a main-street cafe.” I smile. “You flatter me, detective.”

“It comes with the job, these types of skills. You gotta woo the doorman, charm the bellboy, et cetera et cetera. I wouldn’t pin you for a journalist though. You look like you have a good head on your shoulders. Probably one that can do a lot more than just write articles.”

“Look like I have a good head on my shoulders? Oh, are you complimenting me now detective?” I had made him laugh, though it was more of a smoker’s wheeze.

“Not what I meant, ma’am.” he still said smiling. “You seem like the type to take charge and lead. A lot of good ideas I bet. A few concepts on how to improve the world and rid it of the bad. I’d wager you’re trying to be the next Woodward or Bernstein.” “Well,” I said trailing off. “They are my icons I look up to in that respect. But I tried the whole ‘leading’ thing. It was not my cup of tea after all. Leading requires people that will listen to you. And I wasn’t very good at making people listen to me. In the end, I got... fired for lack of a better word.” The detective gave me a long look as he pulled another magically lit cigarette from his mouth, the smoke pooling above us. “No good deed goes unpunished, I believe is how the saying goes ma’am.”

I smile at him. “You got that right, though I will admit I went too far in my...policies. Thankfully, someone managed to catch me as I fell and put me in my current position after I mended my mistakes.”

He laughed. “I’d say. That Capitol Hill Massacre? Tough sell to the American public.”

My blood turned to ice. He raised an eyebrow at me, not saying a word as he took another drag. There was a pile of butts at his feet, though I don't remember being here that long. The street is now empty. The wind is still cold, the leaves still flying the wind, but the music has stopped, and the warmth of the sun and my drink are now gone. “What do you want, Detective? Here to turn me in?” I had to keep up the act for a little bit, hope he leaves scared. I want him to know that I don’t-

“Please, Ms.Kiara, don’t insult my intelligence. Right now you’re more powerful than any woman with a strict gym regimen. And I’m not here to turn you in. Now, I’m here to ask some questions.” He snuffed out the cigarette in his mouth, grinding it into the ground with his black shoe. “I am a detective, I must detect as it were. You are incidental to my current task, so I won’t bother with you. Besides, you’re suffering enough as it is.”

I looked at him quizzically. “I am not suffering. I am free for once. I am not a prisoner in my own mind, I walk these streets a different person.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, before taking out a notepad from his pocket. He removed the pencil stuck through its binding rings and began to jot some things down. “So you’re telling me you’re not aware?” “Aware of what?”

He looked at me pitifully. “Oh dear, this is truly something sad. But it does make it easier for me. I’ll tell you what I know in exchange for what you know. And you know I’m good for it.” He winked at me. If I still had my powers, I’d have killed him right here. Omegaman persona be damned, I would do it. I’ve had enough of men winking at me and insinuating they know more than me for one lifetime. “What do you want, detective?” I say, trying to lace as much venom into each spoken syllable. He chuckled. “Oh, this part never changes. I’ll get right into it. I'm tracking the criminal known as ‘Puppet Master’. You may have known him by a different name ‘Dr.Eugene Krieger.’ A short, rather chubby man?” He pulled from his pocket a Polaroid, Christ this guy really is from the 40s, showing…

Him. The beige monster.

“Yeah. I know of him. What about him?” If I could snarl without looking sad, I would. I’d leave this very second if not for the fact he knows something about me that I don’t. “Well, the good doctor has forgotten the noble life of the hero and dawned the mask and dastardly mustache of the villains. He robs banks using their own workers against them, heroes cant do anything to stop him without they themselves being caught. My boss sent me to you, as you had the closest interaction with him and still lived and remembered it. You answer my questions, and I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine. Ask.”

“How did you do it? How did you break his hold on you?” “I didn’t. He still got to me, I spilled everything I could while he got me. I could only resist with great effort and not for long. All he did was sit there. I recommend shooting him from a long-distance away. He seems arrogant enough to walk in the open by himself.” The detective smirked. I hate him.

“Alright,” he said while jotting in his notepad, “and how about his power? Describe it.”

“Like someone has their hand on your brain and clawing at it like a wolf in a mountain of ground beef. Pain. You feel pain until he gets what he wants. He can stop you from moving. He can make you say anything.”

“He doesn’t sound like someone I'd invite for dinner. Course, I haven’t had a dinner for while anyway.” As he began writing more into his notepad, I got antsy. How had he kept me in this one spot for so long without me noticing? I must have been here for ten hours. How had no one come from the store to say anything to me? It had only felt like minutes of talking, yet hours have passed.

“Interesting.” His voice broke me from my train of thought and drew my ire-some gaze to him once more.

“Well, we may have to take your word for it and go with the bullet method. Crude, but effective.” He put his notepad away and leaned back in his chair, hands in his pockets. “You may now as your questions. I imagine you have a fair number more than me.”

“Who do you work for?” I spat out at him.

He scratches his chin. “That's client confidentiality, Kiara. You know I can’t answer that. Well, actually, given your circumstances, I Imagine I can.” He leans forward. “I serve the dark lord in the mists, the one with plans beyond my knowledge and purpose, he without a name and method, I am his tool. He wishes to know things, I provide answers. One region begins to accumulate too much power to his liking, disturbing his plan? I destabilize it. I was in Serbia in 1914. I was in Rome in 44 BC. I am here now because that Puppet man irks my boss.” He leans back again. “That good enough for you?”

“Fuck no. That creates so many more questions, answers not one part of mine, and makes no sense to me.”

He laughs at that.

“You get one more question. Equal to me. I like to keep things square.”

I frown at him. I want to ask him so many things, but he knows what I’m going to ask next.

“What did you mean by me being aware?”

He smirks.

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

“How’s she looking today?”

Two women in lab coats stand next to a window, looking over a large machine. They stand in a room with nothing but plated metal walls and computers lining the walls. Blinking lights, tanks of liquid, and buttons and levers everywhere. One of the women looks at a clipboard in her hands, flipping a few sheets.

“The simulated autumn is beginning to start, so we should begin adjusting the temperature slightly to adjust for this.” The other nodded, jotting down some notes on her own clipboard. They both peered through the window, looking at the machine. It was a huge monstrosity of tubes and lights, with wires and exposed electrical circuits occasionally flashing and fixing themselves. An old machine, combined with machines of the new world to make some unholy technological abomination between a server rack and an Iron lung. And iron lung that is occupied at the moment. Laying a steel bed before them, behind several layers of reinforced steel and glass, is a woman with severe burns. Their hair is gone, their face a mess of scar tissue and scabs. Placed upon her head is a helmet that is a mess of wires and tubes, syringes, and electrical wonders. Her mouth is covered in a mask with tubes going in and out.

“We need to do the daily report, you got the recorder?” One of the scientists digs in their pocket before pulling out the black box, nodding. She clears her throat.

“Daily report number 29. Regarding Kiara Keita, a.k.a Omegaman. Simulation remains positive, though, “ she pauses while looking at a screen, “we are detecting some irregularities in the REM pattern than we expected. Will need to do another round of memory treatment at the end of the week to maintain stability. Treatment of the scar tissue remains a request from onsite staff, as it lowers morale to look at it. Contact Sunspot for more information on how to heal solar wounds. Simulation is entering the autumn phase of the cycle as planned. As of now, she shows no signs of consciousness. Requesting more anesthesia, just in case.”

The doctor walks over to a large monitor in the corner, displaying several vitals for Kiara. “Technical stability remains positive. Report end.” As she clicked the box off and returned it to her pocket, she sighed.

“Claire, this job sucks.” The other woman, Claire, laughed.

“It's not that bad. Pays well.” Her gaze never left the window. “At least you get to see interesting people, you know?” The other women sighed, walking over to join Claire. She put her hand against the glass, peering down at the woman they have put into a prison of her own mind.

“It just feels wrong. Doing this to them. We didn’t even try to rehabilitate them.” Claire raised her eyebrow, looking at the other woman. “Katie, you don’t honestly believe Omegaman could have rehabilitated, do you? They killed congress! They almost killed Sunspot, have killed numerous other heroes. We can’t talk to them without fear of them breaking out and going on another rampage. Hell, it's a miracle Sunspot did what she did to make this happen! She was on the verge of death when she dragged her body into the facility! And she was the only one who stood a chance against them.” Katie groaned. “Those people that Kia...Omegaman killed though were proven corrupt and generally evil! Like Fantasma?! Those senators? They have done much worse. We never even tried.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t want to get into this with you again. Besides, this whole machine was made for this express purpose. Maybe not this exact person, but for the same powers. Omegaman, the real one, the first one, made this place for the possibility that he might go rogue. He was probably expecting Reverse or Knock-Out to bring him in, but that's not gonna happen because all the old guard is dead, along with the original Omegaman himself. This was the plan for this, sadly, eventuality. I’m going to go check on my normal human patients now. Ones that can’t kill me with a look.” Katie kept staring as the door opened and closed behind her, staring at the woman on the table.

“We never even tried...I could have done something...I could have changed it.” She whispers as she puts a hand to the glass. “I’ll find a way to make sure we’re together again, Kiara.”

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

“I don’t believe you.”

“Choose what you want to believe, Ms.Kiara. You’re in a simulation of your own mind currently run and supervised by the government. I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it.”

“Oh yeah? If this is a simulation, how are you here? Can't I be the only real thing in a simulation?”

The detective smiled. “I’m just special I suppose. I’m not from around these parts, so I guess that gives me some extra leverage in my movement.”

My mind was spinning. That didn't make any sense. It was insanity. Yet... “It..makes sense of a lot of things. I don’t remember anything past when I last saw Sunspot. Just that I was being wheeled out of a hospital by someone. I don’t know why I cannot perform any of my powers, only that I was told that Sunspot burned them out of me. And I just...accepted that as fact.”

The detective looked at me from across the table with his monochromatic eyes, red light glowing from the cigarette on his lips. “It's a wild thing to take grasp of, I won’t fault you for struggling to get it. They went through a lot of trouble getting you in this thing,” he gestured around him,” and getting it to work. They couldn’t kill you, not for any legal reason but because they physically could not. So they did the next best thing, and just removed you from the equation.”

Tears started to well in my eyes. “I...I never thought I’d be put in prison I couldn’t break out of.” The detective nodded slowly. “It's a stark realization once it hits. However, do you think it's wrong to do it? To put you where you are?” Wet lines streak down my cheeks. “No, no they are right. I’m too dangerous out there. In the real world, I am not me. Kiara is dead in that world. Here though, in my mind in this simulation, as you call it, I am me.” I look up, my head previously hanging, into the detective. “This is the first time in years I have been me, but why does it still feel like a prison? Functionally, the world is the same and everything is the same why do I still feel imprisoned?”

“Because she’s not here.” The detective replied. “You were cheated out of a good life, Kiara. I’ll grant you that. One hero goes rogue and inadvertently creates the world's most powerful villain. Ruins countless lives. But no one ever seems to consider your life, do they? They don’t consider what goes through your head to make you think this is the right course of action. They only look at what you did. Not what was done to you. It’d make any sane man crack. What happened to your dad could happen to anyone. Because he’s super made no difference. Same story, different names, and consequences.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a flask, taking a swig of it before passing it to me.

“You feel imprisoned because this is where you have been for years. Stuck in your own head. And you know that if you go outside again because you obviously can do that if you will it hard enough, you won't be you anymore. You’d scare away everyone again. This is the worst imprisonment because you’re doing it to yourself. And you’ll keep doing it because you know it's the right thing to do.”

I take a deep swig of his flask, burning my throat. “Fuck doing the right thing,” I say in between coughs. “I just want my life back. With her. Why can’t I just have that?” The tears in my eyes well once more. “Why couldn’t I just have that? People’s dads die all the time, some of them even see it like me, but they don’t all go insane as I did. Why is it that my mind is the one screwed up? Why was I cheated out a good life? Well, detective? Have any good answers there?” I stand up, kicking the chair out beneath me, looking into the sky. “Why me?! Why did you take it from me? I was never fit to be a hero, I couldn’t be a hero after what I saw. I couldn’t be a hero after what I did. I lost the cosmic flip of the coin and landed tails up. Why me, detective. “ I turn around to face him again. “Why me? Why do I have to deal with this?”

“Because that's just the way things are.” He says calmly, standing up from his own seat and picking my chair. “And we can’t change what happened. So there is no point in dwelling on it. We can only move forward.” He gestures for me to sit down, and I begrudgingly do so. “Kiara, you are now shouldered with the greatest responsibility in the world right now. You can either shuck it into the river and wake up to be the tragic villain in everyone’s story that is defeated. Or.” He moved one of his dark leather gloved hands to my chin, moving my face up to look into his. “You can be the martyr that brings about an age of change. The character that flips the system on its rear.” He removed his hand and sat back down in his seat. “Already, there are people who are pushing protests and bills through this and what not about changing the system for the better. Led by those you inspired, though in methods far different in severity compared to yours. And with words far less charged as well.” I just looked at him. I had no idea what to make of the detective. Or if what he said mattered. But I could trust what he said in the end, at least I hoped I could.

“So,” I mumble out, “I choose to stay in this world, my one prison, and fewer daughters have to see their fathers die? Fewer villains get to pick up the title of hero?”

“It has a higher chance of happening than if you wake up.”

I pause. “And what about me? Where’s my peaceful ending?” The detective let out a sad sigh. “This is your peaceful ending, Kiara. You know that. If you wake up, then you’re no longer Kiara. This is it.”

I look up at the night sky. I smile. All the stars are wrong, but it still looks nice. “I guess I’ll stay. Maybe they’ll find out what's wrong with me and I can go to a real prison one day. Though, I’ll be lonely knowing I'm the only real person here.”

The detective smirked as he rose from his seat, letting out a grunt of humor. “I wouldn’t say you’re alone, Kiara. You have someone watching over you outside.” “Like what? Some technician or nurse? Not that comforting.” He straightened your hat. “Your fiancee. Ah, I knew that’d get a shock out of you.” And he was right, my face could have been used to wake people up, it was so alarmed. “S-she is-” “Standing outside looking at you right now. And has been every day. She never dated anyone else, you know? Kept waiting for you.”

A single tear managed to escape the well in my eyes. The fog began to roll in down the street, and the detective sighed. “That's my cue. Well, it was nice having this conversation with you, Kiara. May we meet again.” His footsteps echoed as he walked towards the oncoming smoke. I could only watch as the black of his jacket and hat were covered in the masking white of the huge rolling fog. He turned to me, one last time.

“Oh, and one more thing. She’s going to get you a little present. You’ll see it soon.”

And with that, he turned once more into the fog and disappeared. Minutes later, the fog itself was gone, and I was all alone.

Truly alone.

I turned back to the coffee table, looking into my now empty cup. I guess I’d have to get used to this now. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katie opened the door to the observation room. As usual, whenever she entered, she walked to the glass and looked down at Kiara. “Morning, or evening, love. Whenever you are in that world.” Today she would go about her usual procedures. She would check the diagnostics, administer the water and nutrition pumps, and maintain the integrity of the simulation.

But today was not just an ordinary day. She had a gift for Kiara, one she carried in a USB around her neck. And a USB she entered into the simulation. And as she watched the files transfer and begin materialization in the simulation, a single tear dropped from her eyes onto the keyboard. “At least we can be this close, my love.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat alone at the table, awaiting the simulated sunrise. It would be perfect, as it was supposed to be in a world where I was supposed to suspect nothing. I sighed, knowing that the life before me would be very boring.

“What's the long face for, love?”

I turn with such speed, I knock the table over. Standing before me is….her.

I jump from my seat and run over to her, hugging her tightly in my arms, her arms embracing me too. “Katie..I-” “Shhhh, Kiara. It is ok. I’m here now.” “H-How? I’m in a-” “I know. And now I am too. Just you and I.”

I pulled back from her, tears in my eyes and being happier than I’ve been in years. I went in for the kiss, holding her close to me. I missed her curly hair, her shampoo smell, her warm touch. I whisper in her ear.

“Just you and me.”

And the music starts up once again for the new day.

[i]At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song[i]

[resets-not-endings]

remedial chaos theory

Things are going to go wrong.

That’s the first thing that Dean Forrest tells all her students. Currently, her favorite (not that she is ever going to admit that, even if subjected to torture) little group of kids is sitting in one of the too-big, too-grand classrooms in their unnecessarily fancy school. Cassian Tyler, one of the best teachers in the school, one of the ones who actually teaches, is standing at the front of the room.

Ally Hollister is sitting on the table. Jay Callahan is sitting on the floor. Riley Corvid is the only one sitting in a chair. (They’re the only one who has actual respect for the concept of a school, though Jay at least has the common courtesy to be quiet.)

“Things are going to go wrong,” Mx Tyler says again. Riley nods. “And things are going to happen in wildly different, impossibly confusing ways.”

“But they’re also going to be the same,” Jay says. “We know.”

“Do you?” Mx Tyler asks. “Then, why, exactly, are you here?”

Ally shrugs. Jay looks at the ground.

“Do you know what we’re going to be doing today?” Mx Tyler asks instead. 

“Nope,” Ally says, disinterested and unhelpful as she ever is. Mx Tyler sighs.

“You’re trying to teach us that despite the randomness and impossibility of any given scenario, there is, even with the overwhelming likelihood of it being something new and unknown, a chance of repetition,” Riley says. “Because we got caught in a jam by working under the strict belief that we wouldn’t find ourselves in the same situation again, and then later by maintaining a view of reality in which we would be in a looped scenario, which was the case in neither situation. And you want to keep us from getting killed if that happens again, because Ally’s supposed to save the world.”

Riley Corvin is a quiet, bookish kid, for the most part. They defer to Ally, and sometimes Jay. They teach themself how to work as a medic, how to be important, how to be useful, because if they are useful, they won’t be cast aside. Nobody throws away useful things.

Cassian Tyler and Dean Forrest are trying to convince Riley that they’re not kept around, and even if they are, it’s not because they’re a useful tool. But it’s hard. Because Riley came to them as Ally’s friend. Because they let Riley stay because Ally said so. Because they’re not magical. They’re just human.

But it doesn’t matter, because Riley is definitely useful. They’re smart.

But they make dumb mistakes. They all make dumb mistakes. 

And so the three kids (because really, they’re just kids) are sitting in the too-large classroom, talking about chaos theory with Mx Tyler.

“Well said, Riley,” Mx Tyler praises. Riley ducks their head down, scribbles something in their notebook, and doesn’t say anything else. “You’re here for an assignment, actually. We’re going to put you in various situations and see how you handle them.”

i. 

There are seven crows sitting on the table at the front of the room. None of them are fans of crows after everything that happened with Death.

“Have fun,” Dean Forrest says, then leaves the room, Mx Tyler right on her heels. 

It is followed by the distinctive sound of the lock clicking shut.

the adults are not prepared for the bout of screaming that comes.

they are similarly not prepared for a quiet knock on the door and riley calmly saying, “all the crows are outside, what do you want us to do now?”

they open the door to reveal riley and jay sitting patiently at a table, talking quietly as they write, and ally, leaning over the windowsill, her entire upper body hanging out into the space created by the open window. all the crows are perched peacefully in the bare boughs of the tree outside, snow dotting the ground.

ally turns and smiles. “are we done?” she asks. dean forrest nods and steps aside for the children to file out of the room.

ii. 

“We have a student here who can manipulate time,” Mx Tyler says. “On a small scale. He’s volunteered to help with the first part of these tests. We’re going to roll a die, and turn one of you a different age.”

“That’s small scale?” Ally asks incredulously, suddenly paying far more attention. Mx Tyler shrugs. 

Manipulating age happens more than it should, in their world. The kids need to be prepared.

“This is Kyle Leman,” Mx Tyler says, introducing the teenager as they beckon him into the room. Kyle waves.

Mx Tyler pulls out a normal die, a white cube with black dots, probably taken from some board game years ago.

“Pick a number, each of you,” they instruct.

“Two,” Ally says, automatically.

“Six,” Jay says.

“Okay, then Riley that leaves you with four. Here’s how this is going to go. If it rolls a one or a two, that’s Ally. Three or four is Riley. Five or six, that’s Jay. Odd number means you get aged back, even number means you get aged up,” Mx Tyler explains. “You figure things out until Thursday at noon. Then, we move onto the next scenario.”

It’s currently Monday afternoon. That’s a long time.

They all nod. Kyle stands next to Mx Tyler as they roll the die, right on the table at the front of the class, where everyone could see if they wanted to. It rolls for a minute before it settles.

One dot, right in the center.

“That’s going to be you, Ally,” Tyler says. “Come on up here.”

Ally slides off the desk and paces up the aisle. Riley gets a sour look on their face, like they know what is coming and are far from excited about it.

Kyle touches two fingers to Ally’s forehead. 

Nothing happens.

Kyle and Mx Tyler leave. They don’t lock the door, this time.

“Wassup?” Ally asks, all childish innocence, like she doesn’t know that something is wrong, something is weird.

Riley blinks. Jay mumbles something into his fingers. 

Ally is seven. She sticks her tongue out at Riley, who is out of their chair and going to grab her in less than a second.

“Don’t touch me,” Ally wails in protest. “Le’go! Put me down!” she protests loudly.

Riley sighs, gathers the younger girl into their arms, and leans against the table. Jay simply stares. Riley puts Ally on the table.

“Do you know who I am?” they ask.

“Riley,” Ally says, pouting. 

“And him?” they ask, gesturing over to Jay, who smiles and waves. Ally shakes her head. “That’s Jay,” Riley tells the young girl. “He’s a friend.”

They don’t need to say more than that. Ally sticks out her tongue again, missing teeth and sun-soft freckles.

“How bad can this really be?” Jay asks, late that night, after they struggled through the mess that was the dining hall and finally wrangled Ally into a bed, where she promptly passed out. Riley gives him an unimpressed look.

“Bad,” they say simply. “She was a handful as a kid, and I doubt she’ll be better this time around.”

They look over at Ally, curled up in bed, under a blanket, looking sweet and fragile and childish. It’s not fair.

Day two turns out to be worse than anyone could have expected.

Ally wakes up, then kicks Riley’s arm until they wake up, having fallen asleep in an armchair. Jay is in the top bunk. (He has his own room. He chose not to use it. Instead, he stole Riley’s bed. The faculty has given up on separating the three of them by gender like they normally do.)

“What, Als?” Riley asks, trying to rub the sleep from their eyes.

“Where are we?” Ally asks.

“School,” Riley says. “We talked about this yesterday.”

Ally nods. “Where’s Dad?”

Riley’s heart skips a beat, and their chest seizes. Fuck. Jay is still waking up in the top bunk, exhausted and unhelpful, but it doesn’t matter. Jay would only ask more questions, inadvertently make it worse.

They don’t have an answer for Ally. The girl doesn’t stop.

“Ri,” she whines. “Ri, where’s Dad?”

“He’s not here,” Riley says carefully. They can’t lie to Ally.

“Where is he?” Ally asks. God, this kid is persistent.

“He’s dead,” Riley says finally, tiredly, after a minute of hesitation.

Ally’s face falls, her brightness crumpling and lip trembling. Riley gathers the young girl into their arms. It isn’t enough.

(They should have lied, but they couldn’t, not to Ally.)

Jay decides that now is a good time to finally be awake enough to contribute. “What’s wrong?” he mouths down to Riley, who gives him a halfhearted glare and shakes their head.

Ally doesn’t talk for two hours. It’s almost worse than her screaming and running around, causing terror. Then, something snaps. The room does not fare well.

Riley locks Ally in a janitor’s closet with them. Jay, on the other side of the door, almost laughs as he leans against it heavily. Riley sags against the wall, lets Ally scream and cry and hit them and break things.

Ally seems to forget everything when she falls asleep. She wakes up on Wednesday, and nearly screams loud enough to rouse the entire Academy trying to wake her friends up. Riley has a class. Ally is excused from classes due to personal reasons, not that she ever went to classes in the first place. But Riley has class.

So they leave Ally with Jay, and promise to be back in two hours. Ally is eating cereal when they leave. Jay is reading. Nothing that bad could possibly happen in two hours.

They are very wrong, and almost regret even going to class. Jay is somehow locked in the bathroom, and Ally is running down the halls, barefoot, in clothes that are far too big for her.

Riley catches her just outside their room, and hauls her back in. They release Jay from the bathroom. He is soaking wet, his hair and clothes frozen, and he looks miserably. Riley takes pity on him, wraps him in a blanket, and sends him back to his own dorm room.

He gets a break for all of three hours. Riley spends their dinner in the dining hall hunched over their notebook, trying to write the three page report that was deemed necessary for each of these scenarios. Jay is trying to simultaneously eat, hold Ally in place, get Ally to eat, and offer help to Riley.

By the end of dinner, his hair is frozen again, and he is drinking his sixth mug of tea while holding onto Ally’s sleeve so she doesn’t run off. Ally falls asleep at the table. Riley passes their notebook to Jay to hold, picks up the girl, and carries her back to their room. 

Ally sleeps until almost noon the next day. Riley spends most of that time typing up and editing their report with Jay hovering over their shoulder.

When noon comes, the three of them are waiting in the grand classroom, and Kyle presses a finger to Ally’s forehead again, and leaves.

Ally looks at Riley, nearly bursts into tears, and buries her head in her arms. Jay rubs her back. 

“Well done, guys,” Mx Tyler says. “I’ll read over this and return your grade tonight,” they add, holding up the report.

They get their grade while at dinner. When they get back to Ally’s room, Riley’s neatly typed report is in the folder pinned to the door, where the teachers put papers for the kids.

On the last page, there is a handwritten paragraph.

Grade: A

Comments: You did well, despite the less than favorable circumstances. I do have to say that I was not expecting Mr Callahan to have so many issues regarding his attire and ice, but you handled everything well. Riley, I think you drew on your past knowledge well. Jay, you adapted to do what was needed. Ally, you seem like a terror of a kid, and I’m glad I wasn’t the one in charge of you. I’ll see you all tomorrow afternoon for your next class.

Jay laughs. Ally hits him. Riley and Jay retreat to Jay’s room. They need a quiet night. 

iii. 

[minahraven]

Current Post Statuses (in order of receipt) - Nov 9, 2017

 All requests I’ve received are listed below, along with the statuses (whether they’re done and ready to post, in progress, or haven’t been started yet). If you don’t see your request here, please don’t hesitate to re-send it, as it means it hasn’t been received, and I don’t want anyone to feel as if I’m ignoring their request at all. As you’ll be able to see, I’m currently working on getting scenario requests up to date, since I’ve been posting almost solely ships recently, so I hope noone minds that.

Thank you so much to everyone who’s requested so far! I love doing all these requests, and though I may not be as fast at posting as other blogs, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. Far from it. This has become a truly enjoyable hobby, and I’m loving every moment ^_^

Anonymous said:

Amber x girl reader smut where she admits all of her kinks to you and you have kinky sex (dirty talk, spanking...) – in progress

alicemad-hatter said:

Can I request a Bom scenario where after the group disbanded she came home upset and y/n (preferably female) cheered her up with food and loving sex – in progress

Anonymous said:

could u do an amber smut were she misses a date but makes it up to you? ;) ur previous amber smut was AMAZING! – in progress

anotherworld-fan said:

Hiiiiii!!! Can I request a ship? I'm 5'9 (I know massive) I'm quite shy and introverted but with my friends I turn into a crazy/shouting/rambling mess that cannot be stopped. I'm a hopeless romantic and I love reading, cooking, dancing and all artsy things. My favourite season is winter because I love wrapping myself up with warm blankets and having a hot tea while reading. I'm really caring, especially with people close to me and I always put other people's happiness first😊 thank you xx – Done (to be posted)

Anonymous said:

Hi :) can you please ship me with BTS? I am an ENFJ, outgoing, independent and social. Most would say I’m energetic, smart and bubbly. I like reading, writing, making art, learning/experiencing new things and cooking. I also tend to be a the mother type in a group and want to make sure everyone is happy. If I am out in public and hear a song I know, I will find myself singing and dancing (sometimes badly) along to it, much to the embarrassment of those around me 😆 Thanks for you hard work~💛💛 – Done (to be posted)

Anonymous said:

hello!!! i was wondering if i could have a written ship with bts? :D if so:id consider myself funny and caring; a lot of my friends call me mom (b/c i always cook, clean up after them and have snacks ready hehe) and tend to look to me for advice. I’m a great listener and i love to hear other people talk for hours (same thing w me i love talking a lot) i love singing and I’m v grounded and my opinion on things usually stay unchanged. (i also love affection and holding hands) Thank you so much💝✨ - To do

Anonymous said:

Hi! May I request a BTS ship please! I’m 5 ft 6, down to earth type, sensitive, soft-spoken, shy but very outgoing once I get to know someone. Also kind, cheerful, sweet & calm, I tend to be a dreamer, love listening to Kpop, reading, traveling & writing poetry. I also can sing/dance a bit!! my style is cusual/chic/comfy. A bit clumsy, laid-back & insecure alot. I tend to never give up on any task, love going on adventures. I really love helping others & really really enjoy skinship! Thank you🙏 - To do

Anonymous said:

Hi, Can I request for a written ship with BTS please? Thank you!! I’m 170cm, a Scorpio, Ravenclaw. I’m energetic/fun-loving, friendly, a listener/caring and easy-going, but also overly sensitive. I love food and eat a lot, and I’m a pretty lazy homebody whose ideal day is to sleep in, play video games and watch drama/anime or read. In a relationship I like spending a lot of time with my partner cuddling, talking a lot from shallow, derpy things to deep debates, or exploring new places with them. - To do

Anonymous said:

Hi~ Can I have a Red Velvet ship pls? I’m very introverted & come across as cold at first. But people say I’m super sweet once they get to know me. I’m very 4D & love bad jokes/puns. I’m a homebody, but love going out on adventures when in the mood. I love animals, traveling, late night drives, stargazing, reading, art, & watching movies. I play guitar & want to be a songwriter. I'm very into social issues & psychology. I have anxiety/depression & am moody at times. Very into skinship. Tysm! - To do

Anonymous said:

can you do a scenario where jungkook and you broke up but he’s desperately trying to win you back and you ring for an elevator trying to leave he gets in with you and it gets smutty ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) snd then you guys get back together after that ,, thank youuu! – In progress

Anonymous said:

Holaa! Can i request a Jimin scenario where his lover (not GF or wife) his LOVER is unexpectedly pregnant and they don't know what to do cause of his career and the scandal that might cause him to have a baby with a girl that's not actually his partner? pls - To do

Anonymous said:

Hii, can I have a bts ship please!! I'm pretty quiet and nervous around people idk but once I get to know them I can't stop talking and to some people it's a bit irritating haha. I randomly get sad a lot and it's a little hard to handle at times. I'm pretty clingy tbh and I lovelovelove cuddling. Bad jokes are my favorite things in the world. Physically, I'm korean and I have longish black hair. I have really annoying acne and dimples but I hate my smile lol. And ye that's it. Thank you!! - To do

unniesao said:

Written ship with BTS.I'm 5'3 with really pale skin, I have green/blue eyes and red hair (natural)! I'm from Ireland.i love sports,makeup,fashion,art and skincare. I love Dancing and singing! But in kpop groups I like the rappers! I have lots of natural aegyo. I'm really quiet and I don't trust people easily. I worry a lot and am drawn to people who have a motherly side to them, a caring type.I love giving but not receiving skinship! I speak lots of languages and want to learn more! Thank you! - To do

channynipa said:

Hi❤️ Can I have a self ship w/Yoongi,pls? I'm ENFJ,the eldest of 4,making me reliable & a good leader. I'm supportive,caring,affectionate,trustworthy,kind,strong both physically & mentally. I get competitive & fearless sometimes. I'm a good listener so as a good adviser. I'm not the type to open my worries to others fast & likely to say it's fine. In fact, I just need someone who will face me and tell me to be honest w/them. I have so much love to share w/everyone, esp. my fam & people I care. I'm good w/children,they make me super happy!😍 My friends say I'm persuasive,good w/words,funny,very friendly & warm. I LIKE flowers,animals,coffee & LOVE cuddling,skinship and watching movie(horror movies are my fav). I enjoy theme park & advanturous things. I really like listening to music & going for a walk at night. I don't really like changes,hate heat & worst w/directions. I'm always there for my siblings. Smile's always on my face & I hope everyone can smile,too. TYSM & take your time.❤️ - To do

unflame said:

bts ship pls? i’m canadian/korean with neck length peach hair and 170cm tall. people are scared of me at first as i have a bad rbf, but i like to joke around and laugh a lot. i’m very skin ship-y and love to cuddle. i’m more of a homebody but i do enjoy hanging out with friends for karaoke, drinking, and movies. i’ve been told i’m mature but also really impatient and sometimes tease others a little too much. i also tend to be flirty w/o knowing which can be a problem rip me - To do

chana-ninja said:

Hi~. Can I get a selfship with Jungkookie(BTS) please?? I’m honest and always keep my word. Others usually say that I'm polite, feminine, caring, reliable and fun to tease. I can be a dork, unconscious humming song, clueless sometimes, and clumsy... very often. I love sweets (let’s say all kind of food) flowers and ANIMALS. I'm adventurous and love traveling. I prefer walking to driving. I like drawing and enjoy listening to music. I'm also a fan of Horror movies. Thank you❤️ - To do

littlewriterme said:

Hi! Could I get a bts written ship?I'm 5'3" with light brown skin and black curly hair. No one knows what color my eyes are but I see green and sometimes grey! I'm smiley and positive and say what I mean. I love singing and dancing as well as writing music. I want to produce music or be a singer in the future. I'm also self conscious so exercise and grew to love it. I like hikes, coffee, and rainy days! A day in is nice too but I also love traveling! I'm easily annoyed but also caring! Thanks!❤️ - To do

zoohope said:

Excuse me, can I get a ship with shinee minho please ? I'm an anime, video games nerd, that listening to a lot of music. I like to sing, dance, draw and rap. I also like to read but I have a reading problem sorry for spelling errors. I'm the youngest child of 5. I'm 13. I'm very shy but if you get me out my shell I'm very loud and out going. I get scared easily when I watch horrors but I love horrors. My friend call me innocent cause I don't get dirty jokes. I love cats but dogs like me too. - To do

thegirlthatlikesasianboys said:

Hello! 💖 Can I have a BTS and GOT7 ship? My name is Jahné. 5'3, chubby, a Scorpio, ISTJ, I'm known to be shy among friends and family, sometimes very mature for my age (16), I love reading and watching stuff about conspiracies (aliens, abnormalities etc). Introvert, very perverted, I love anything that involves Art especially photography and design, I'm also such a nerd!! (Anime/games you know how it goes) I'm a little clumsy, and I also like to write fanfictions Thank you so much!!!!! 😍💖 - To do

sorry-ionlydrinkmilk said:

Hello :) Could I pretty please get a self-ship with Jimin BTS? I'm actually kind, friendly, down to earth and also clumsy. I well have the mind of 19+ lol I cannot live without talking and really love taking care of others. Good adviser. Yet, there is a time I need someone to hear me pour out about anything and give me courage. My goal is to have a big family. Love running, dancing and advanturous things even though I'd rather choose to lay down all day lol Thank you so much for your effort. - To do

thebreathbeforethekiss said:

Hi, May I please get a self ship with Tae Tae? I'm an ambivert. I study/work hard too, which is good, but I sometimes become too distracted by it and forget to sleep and eat. I tend to take care of others before myself. I'm a perfectionist but not to an extreme. I believe that life is easier when you share your positivity to others. If someone I like asks me for a favor, I'd do it without a second thought. All in for skinship. My hobbies; relaxing, daydreaming, listening to music. Thank you <3 - To do

before-i--fall-in-love said:

Hey there!! I was wondering if I could get a self-ship with BTS Jin please? I'm very cuddly, loving, motherly in nature. Really nice a friendly to everyone including strangers, good with kids (and animals!!), polite around adults. I absolutely love being around animals and people. I tend to be very empathetic and I love to encourage people through their hard times because I have been through hard times. I love that I can let go easily like moving on happily with understanding. People tend to describe me as sweet and charming with a very quick witted sharp tongue lol. In my spare time, I dance and work-out, as well as watching movie (horror and romantic comedy movies) and cooking. I love cuddling and skinship in general. I am also really family oriented. I spend a lot of time with my family. I especially really love children. I really want to get married :D and be a mom someday. If I can’t be a mom, I want to be a mother to a bunch of puppies. Thank you very much 💗 - To do

chanitnim said:

Hi! Can I have a selfship with Namjoon please? I'm very carefree, open and happy in general. I'm the type to say ok to anything with no regrets. I tend to be easy to read and be able to get over lost/sadness faster than others. Friends say I'm bubbly, funny, approachable and reliable. I'm very forgetful and pretty lazy. Observing people, arts, languages CHOCOLATE and a long nice walk are LOVE❤️ Just no bugs! I get scare easily but horror movies are my fav! Thank you! - To do

the-dreamer-doer

Hi! I hope I'm sending this right? Let me know otherwise 💕 I was thinking a requesting a self ship with bts Suga? I’m 155 cm tall, have long straight dark hair and brown eyes. I’m usually dressed pretty casually in something like black skinny jeans and knitted shirts. I’m openminded, polite ,creative,softspoken,kind,friendly,introverted,calm & quiet(I can be pretty quiet even when I’m close to someone, but I also have days when I’m very talktaktive). At first I can seem cold/awkward because I’m shy/quiet/in my own world. I’ve been told that I seem like someone who has a responsible, calm, sweet and gentle personality. I’m pretty independent and value authenticity and dislike burdening people with my problems. I always try to be friendly but sometimes get slightly anxious in some social situations as I find it difficult to make conversation with new people (I try to hide that, though).Also, I’m kind of easily distracted and don’t always notice things in my surroundings. I like to paint (actually just art in general, like photography, etc),play piano (I’ve mostly played classical, though),travel,read,be w/friends,sleep,watch movies,listen to music & dance. I’m a major homebody but I do like going outside on adventures and I love travelling. I’m a huge procrastinator but I’m also pretty ambitious and perfectionistic so I’m often feeling like I’m not working hard enough whilst like… procrastinating, haha. I dislike inconsiderate and judgmental people who cannot/don’t care to put themselves in other people’s shoes. I really like skinship and cuddling but only when I’m close to someone. Thank you! - To do

[kukungie]

"SHOULD WE KNOW US A LITTLE BETTER" TAG

RULES: you must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people i was tagged by @chaerismatic and @monbibi tysm babies and sorry it took so long !! THE LAST 1. drink: strawberry milk 2. phone call: my mom 3. text message: "thanks soph" 4. song i've listened to: fire water - code kunst ft. g.soul and tablo, it's so good !! 5. time you cried: i actually can't remember, that's new HAVE YOU 6. dated someone twice: nope 7. kissed someone and regretted it: no but i've regretted not kissing someone 8. been cheated on: nope 9. lost someone special: yes 10. been depressed: yes 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: only once but i rarely admit to it 12-14. list three favorite colors: yellow, orange, red IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU 15. made new friends: yes, i'm so lucky to have met such nice and cool people !! 16. fallen out of love: i haven't been in love in a while 17. laughed until you cried: yes, probably every time i hang out with my friends 18. found out someone was talking about you: nope 19. met someone who changed you: so many 20. found out who your friends were: i guess 21. kissed someone on your facebook list: guilty GENERAL 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them 23. do you have any pets: oh boy, i have 9 dogs, 9 cats and 3 turtles 24. do you want to change your name: i did when i was younger but now i really like it 25. what did you do for your last birthday: nothing, i actually had to take my ib history paper 3 that day which sucked 26. what time do you wake up: 6 am on schooldays and noon during weekends and break 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: being lit in the gc ayeee 28. name something that you can't wait for: seeing monsta x in concert !! 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: she literally just came into my room hehe 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: feeling motivated to go out and do all the things i've been putting off 31. what are you listening to right now: nothing oops 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i had an internet friend named tom a while back 33. something that is getting on your nerves: my dad's attitude 34. most visited website: definitely youtube 35. moles: none 36. marks: two on the right side of my stomach and one between my brows 38. hair color: dark brown 39. long or short hair: long 40. do you have a crush on someone: no, is it childish of me to want one?? it's just been a while 41. what do you like about yourself: that i'm real chill??? 42. piercings: septum and helix on my right ear 43. blood type: idk i need to find out !! 44. nickname: khris is a nickname, my best friends call me arela which comes from my middle name 45. relationship status: as single as a pringle my dudes 46. zodiac: taurus 47. pronouns: she/her 48. favorite tv show: parks and rec, friends, voltron 49. tattoos: not yet 50. right or left hand: right 51. surgery: tooth extraction surgery 52. hair dyed in different color: never but i want to 53. sport: basketball 55. vacation: i haven't gone on vacation in a while but puerto vallarta is my favorite up until now 56. pair of trainers: one? nike? what? MORE GENERAL 57. eating: pan dulce 58. drinking: coconut milk 59. i'm about to: go to the movies 61. waiting for: y'all to stop sleeping on monsta x 62. want: money bih 63. get married: if i find the right person i guess but it's not a life goal of mine 64. career: international business WHICH IS BETTER 65. hugs or kisses: both are nice but i prefer kisses, they can be platonic too !! 66. lips or eyes: eyes 67. shorter or taller: i don't mind but taller i guess 68. older or younger: i'd say my age or older 70. nice arms or nice stomach: i like soft tummies 71. sensitive or loud: sensitive 72. hookup or relationship: relationship 73. troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker HAVE YOU EVER 74. kissed a stranger: nope 75. drank hard liquor: yes but i don't really like it 76. lost glasses/contact lenses: i don't wear glasses 77. turned someone down: yes 78. sex on the first date: nope 79. broken someone's heart: probably and i hate myself for it 80. had your heart broken: i broke my own heart, does that count? 81. been arrested: nope 82. cried when someone died: yes 83. fallen for a fiend: yes and then we both pined like idiots because we were both too blind to realize the feeling was mutual DO YOU BELIEVE IN 84. yourself: not anymore 85. miracles: i guess 86. love at first sight: nope 87. santa claus: are you serious?? 88. kiss on the first date: why not? 89. angels: i want to say i do OTHER 90. current best friend's name: monica and annette i love them so much 91. eye color: dark brown 92. favorite movie: i actually don't have one, i don't watch a lot of movies i'm tagging some mutuals who i think are cool and would like to know better !! @sonuwoo @milk-hooney @jookyun @1stlove @hyunqvwon @princejvhnny ♡