#no :) kindly! no. I won’t let you (brain) I’ll bet you with a stick (but it won’t feel it as the brain has no pain receptors)

[peapod20001]

*beats whatever part of my body that is releasing an abundance of stress chemicals every time I see something that’s a .07 / 100 on the stress scale*

[princess-of-inarizaki]

So, as I promised, Inarizaki New Year request. Inarizaki boys and manager make party at her place, they prepare dinner, decorate the Christmas tree and her home (twins hang the mistletoe everywhere, but manager-chan is clueless so she doesn't know about kissing tradition), exchange gifts, have sleepover etc. Next day they all go together to the shrine and all boys ask to marry her. And they are EMBARRASSED when manager asks them what they ask.

Ahhh Tilli my love! I'll finally use this as a Christmas and New year one combined (eventho they've both passed a long time ago :) and this will be the final addition to the Inarizaki December series!

Once again, thank you so much for supporting me through it all, and showering love on every day's imagine. I didn't expect to get 100-200 notes on some days, but I did!! And I'm really ever so grateful. I hope you'll stay tuned :D

-

Inarizaki's manager-chan day 25!!

Late merry Christmas!! 💖 (And happy new year)

☃️

It was finally the seventh day of Christmas.

The day everyone looked forward to, filled with so much cheer and joy. The boys couldn't wait to spend it at your house. (They couldn't spend the actual day of Christmas with you, due to clashes in the schedule), but that's okay. They were here now.

It was unorthodox, to decorate the tree and give gifts days after the 25th, but it didn't matter to you, and if it didn't matter to you, it didn't matter to the boys either.

The house was warm, and you were busy baking cookies. The smell of gingerbread and peppermint floated in the air. Suna snuck up behind you and took a dab of the cookie mixture. “I rate this a 10/10”

Kita glared at him. “Suna that wasn't very hygienic” which only caused you to laugh.

Christmas carols were playing from the small Bluetooth speaker near the tree, and you suddenly felt like dancing. After wiping your hands dry and shutting the oven so the cookies could bake, you pulled Kita to you and placed your hands on his shoulder.

“Dance with me, Kita-san”

His eyes sparkled as his cheeks heated up.

“Of course, my lady.”

And the rest of the members watched enviously as you spun around with Kita in tow. You looked gorgeous, and so undeniably happy.

“My turn!” said Atsumu indignantly as he replaced Kita. He pulled your waist closer to him as he picked you up and twirled you around. Your squeals made his heart beat faster as he gently let you go.

“That's enough dancing for one day, now go decorate the tree or something. These cookies will be done soon and me and y/n need to decorate them.” said the gray haired twin.

The boys nodded as they made their way to the big tree in the living room, whilst you were left alone in the kitchen with Osamu.

Osamu swiped a bit of frosting on your cheek and laughed, as he put on the oven mitts, readying himself to take the cookies out of the oven.

You laughed and licked the frosting off.

Damn. Osamu's brain almost short-circuited, but he pushed such thoughts out of his mind and instead focused on the cookies.

“How shall we ice them?”

You mixed food colouring into the frosting bowls and explained you wanted to ice them according to each of the members.

“We'll use white for Kita! Since he's so dedicated and wonderful, white suits him best. And green for Tsumu, because he makes me feel happy and fresh inside.”

Osamu nodded with a small smile. “And what about me?”

“Purple for you, because I feel comfortable with you, you're basically my home. And red for Rin, because red is a sleepy colour, and I just love napping on his lap.”

“Oh and blue for Aran! He makes me feel safe inside. Orange for Akagi, he's such a cheerful person, he's like my very own sunshine.”

Osamu blushed and stroked your cheek gently. “You're my little home too, ya know that? I'm icing yours pink.”

Pink for the way you make me blush, my love.

You beamed at him and began icing the cookies, delicately and carefully, whilst Osamu iced the other half.

-

The rest of the boys finished decorating the tree as they took a step back to admire their work.

Suna gently adjusted the baubles, before taking a few pictures. He wanted to capture this moment forever.

Suddenly, you and Osamu came to the room with a mixture of cookies and a few mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows.

Akagi smiled as he placed a kiss on your cheek before snagging a cookie. “Aww you guys are the best, thank you!”

The snow slowly fell outside, as the tree sparkled proudly in the center of the living room.

“Hey we still need to put the angel on top!”

Atsumu jokingly picked you up in his arms “we have one right here, shall I put her on top of the tree?”

The boys laughed as they passed you the tiny angel figurine. “we can't reach it anyways, why don't you put it instead?" Said Aran with a small smile.

Atsumu lifted you up gently as you placed the angel on the top of the tree, completing the decoration process.

“Thanks, you guys are amazing. I'm so lucky to have you.”

Your words were met with a chorus of "I love you's" and "me too's"

And you laughed, as Atsumu pulled you closer to him.

“Tsumu, you can put her down now” said a disgruntled Osamu.

-

[ 2 hours earlier ]

Osamu: have you placed the mistletoe in random spots?

Atsumu: yes, what about you?

Osamu: yeah, but I've kept one in my pocket. I'll just put it up whenever we're alone and it show to her.

Atsumu: damn that's so smart, why didn't I think of that? :(

Osamu: cuz yer' stupid.

Atsumu: >:(

-

[present time]

You and the boys play tons of games in the living room, and stash their gifts underneath the tree too.

“Let's open then tomorrow morning! We'll sleep in here too, and it will be fun to open them as soon as we wake up.” you say happily.

Suna leans on your shoulder throughout the evening, and soon his head makes its way to your lap, as usual.

You laugh and ruffle his hair, as he looks up at you breathlessly. You're so beautiful to him. So undeniably gorgeous. Atsumu wasn't lying when he called you an angel.

Suna's pupils dilated as he stared into your eyes. “I love you, y/n”

Not hearing the sincerity and hidden meaning behind his words, you replied with a quick “I love you too, Rin-rin”

And frankly, even if you didn't know how much he truly meant it, it didn't matter. He'd make sure you did, someday.

-

The plate of cookies were left with only crumbs and the mugs were all empty.

The next part of the night was dinner, and since Kita was the only one who could drive, he'd take you out to pick it up.

“Let's go Y/n-san” said Kita, as a tired Suna whined when he had to lose your lap-pillow.

You nodded and followed him, fastening the seatbelt in the passengers seat as you winked at the boys. “Be good while we're gone, okay?”

Kita turned up the radio. It was a song he didn't particularly like, but you seemed to love. However, you switched the radio off.

“Y/n-san, don't you like this song? Why did you change it?”

“Because you don't like it, Kita-san, and I want to talk to you. Your voice is better than any song.” was your simple reply.

No beating around the bush, you were ever so straightforward, and yet it made Kita's heart beat faster.

“so what would you like to talk about?”

And it started from there. A car-ride filled with the voices of the both of you.

At the traffic light, Kita gave you a sideways glance as he saw your excited expression talking about the cookies you baked.

But frankly he wasn't listening anymore. he was admiring the way your eyes shone in delight, and your cheeks as they were pink from the cold. He smiled at the way your face seemed to light up, and at the beautiful smile etched into it.

And Kita found that beautiful.

“It was delicious, right? And the frosting was beautiful too?” you finished excitedly, by asking him.

“she really is beautiful” said Kita in a trance, as the light turned red and he snapped out of it.

“I mean, yes, the frosting was beautiful!”

-

After picking up a bucket of KFC, as it's traditionally eaten to celebrate Christmas, the boys greeted you at the door.

“Mom and dad are home” joked Akagi.

“Oh my, so that means y/n's our mommy?” said Atsumu seductively, which earned him a sharp kick from Osamu. “Hey Tsumu, shut the hell up.”

The table was set and filled with cheer and banter from all sides, as Akagi sat next to you, and plated everything out.

You sighed happily. Truthfully, you weren't aware of traditions in Japan, since you were new to the country, but the boys taught you every day. It was Osamu who informed you that people in Japan ate their Christmas dinners at KFC.

“It's kinda like a tradition here” he said, with a small shrug. And you were determined to stick to those traditions.

“Are there any other traditions you practice, here? During Christmas?” you asked, in between bites.

Atsumu smirked at you and held up a small plant. “This is called mistletoe, but I won't tell you what the tradition related to it is”

You were confused, because all the other boys had suddenly turned red, and no matter how much you asked them, they refused to tell you what the significance of mistletoe was.

“Hmm, weird” you said softly, as you finished dinner, and brought your plate to the kitchen to be washed.

As you walked out, you noticed a small sprig of mistletoe above you, and a tall presence looming over you...

-

[ hello!! This is route time!! There are six members which I have written mistletoe routes for, and the corresponding colours will be for each member, so read whichever you want to!!]

(pink is the general route. no matter which route you choose, the new year's day story will continue with the general route, so please keep that in mind.)

-

Kita

Osamu

Aran

Atsumu

Akagi

Suna

-

You looked up and saw Akagi, and he had a bunch of other dishes in his hands. “I've lost a bet, so they've made me wash their dishes”

Atsumu's gleeful voice could be heard as he egged his senpai on. “make sure they're spotless, Akagi!”

You took half of the plates from Akagi kindly and assured him you'd help him.

“my hands are wet anyways. It'd be a bother to dry them after washing only one plate”

“T-thanks” he stuttered softly.

-

As you and Akagi washed the plates side by side, he felt a slight tug in his chest. It felt so domestic, to come home to you, hug you in his arms, and do the most mundane of tasks with you, like washing the dishes like this.

He wouldn't mind anything, honestly. As long as he was with you, the most grueling of chores would become fun.

And as he saw your brows furrowed in concentration, he sighed. You looked ever so adorable like that.

“Y/n-chan, I don't know if I've told you this yet, but you look very beautiful today.”

It took a lot of courage. Everyone saw him as a jokester, a perpetually happy person, but with you he wanted to be different.

He wanted you to know that when he complimented you like that, he wasn't joking. Not the least bit.

A soft tint could be seen on your cheeks as you continued washing the plates. “why thank you, Akagi. You look really nice too ”

And somehow, with that one compliment, you made Akagi happier than he had ever been.

The kitchen was filled with comfortable silence, and you appreciated the presence of the tall raven-haired libero who stood next to you, as he swore this scene would repeat itself in the future, someday, but with you as his girl.

-

The late dinner left everyone in a lazy mood, and although the Bluetooth speakers played more music, it became softer, more calm, and everyone felt ready to sleep.

The sleeping bags were arranged in the living room, in a small semicircle as you laid yours next to Atsumu.

“I didn't want to be alone in my room, knowing you guys were just outside, so I hope you don't mind if I slept here too” you said with a small blush.

The boys were overjoyed and eagerly made more space for you.

“I hope it won't be uncomfortable for you, y/n-san.”

You shook your head and settled into the sleeping back. “thank you for the concern, Kita-san, but you guys are here! how could I possibly be uncomfortable at all?”

You laid down in your sleeping bag as Aran leaned over to switch the lights off.

“Big day tomorrow. Let's all get some rest.”

A silent exchange of "goodnight's" was all you could hear, before complete silence, signalling their exhaustion.

But Atsumu, who was laying down next you was far from asleep.

He turned to the side to face you, his eyes reflecting the moonlight beautifully.

“I'm cold” you whispered, as you shifted in your sleeping bag uncomfortably. Atsumu's heart started beating uncontrollably as he made space in his own sleeping bag for you.

“Let's cuddle. Body heat is still heat, right beautiful?”

You smiled gratefully as you slipped in next to him, and his arms wrapped around you protectively.

His mind began to wander, and like Akagi, he wondered if he could get used to this. To coming home after a hard day and slipping into bed with you.

To keeping you warm on cold nights, and holding you if you had a nightmare.

As his fingers gently stroked through your hair, you sighed softly and cuddled closer to his chest in a dream-like state.

You had fallen asleep in his arms, just like he had dreamt for so often, and he couldn't wait till he'd be able to have you with him every single night.

Every single night for the rest of forever. Atsumu wanted to spend every single one of them with you.

He smiled softly as he observed your sleeping features before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You'll truly be the death of me, y/n”

-

You awoke many times in the middle of the night, but with Atsumu's firm grip on you, and his comforting body heat, you had no trouble falling back asleep again.

Soon, sunlight began to stream through the windows and the small beams of light slowly caused you to wake up.

The boys were all still asleep, so you gently pried yourself off Atsumu, gave him a gentle kiss to his cheek, and tip-toed to the kitchen, to make breakfast.

Aran, who had incredibly sensitive ears, heard the shift of the fridge door, and woke up. In a groggy-like state, he walked over to you and hugged you from behind.

“good morning” he whispered softly. “can I help you with breakfast?”

Although he wasn't naturally a cook, your patient instructions and kindness proved to be all he needed, and the two of you made a pile of pancakes, drizzled in maple syrup.

By now, the rest of the boys were also awake, they were better than greyhounds when it came to sniffing out food you've made.

But as Aran helped you around the kitchen, he couldn't focus on the others. He couldn't focus on anyone but you.

You, with your messy hair and half lidded eyes. With your low morning voice and small smile. You were so comfortable being yourself, and he really was glad.

Morning-y/n, the y/n only they got to see this morning, was pretty darn adorable. And he wanted her to know that.

“you're so cute when you're still half asleep, ya know?”

Although his voice has a teasing edge, a ring of laughter behind it, Aran wanted you to know that.

“aww thanks Aran, I like your morning voice too” you said with a dopey smile, as your flipped another pancake.

Suna stole one from off the plate and nibbled on it “I rate this a 10/10 too”

“Oh no Kita's glaring at me. I never tasted it in the first place”

-

After breakfast, presents, tons of hugs, and an outfit change later, the Shrine came into view. It was the first day of the new year, and as per the tradition of praying at the shrines for good luck, you and the team were heading there to welcome the new year with hopes and dreams.

“So, you have to clap twice, and wish for whatever it is your head desires for this year” said Akagi with a smile.

The rest of the boys had their eyes screwed shut, as they prayed for their deepest desire; to marry you someday.

Your wish was not so different either. “I wish to be able to be by their sides forever. For their good health, happiness, and safety. I love them.”

As you laid your eyes on their figures, hunched over the shrine, you swore you would do anything to make your wish a reality.

“I love you guys. Happy new year.!!”

-

taglist : @raychii @dai-tsukki-desu @k-sakusa-old @pocket-of-anxiety @sunasthing @thatthangwasthangin @daydreamingtetsu @ignorantsock @ohrintarou @tilli-san

The professor's note: 😭broooo so I'm like finally done?? This was so long I hope you guys enjoy it <3 (it took like 3 days to perfect it, so likes and reblogs are very much appreciated uwu)

[the-shiftshop]

What’s In The Water?

Credits to @maleappreciasian for the pictures. Check is page out to appreciate more asian hunks.

"Jinho, thanks for inviting me.”

“No problem. I told you I’ll repay you soon enough. Now’s the time for that.”

“Naw, man. You didn’t have to go this far. Inviting me to your family’s farewell party? I ain’t part of your fam, man.”

“You treated me as a family when no one did at school, Daniel. Of course I’d treat you like that too.”

I just smiled back as I couldn’t disagree more. Jinho gave me an eye smile with his hand on his face and I couldn’t help but feel much calmer.

The story here is that Jinho was a transferee from Korea and he enrolled to our school to study for just a year, which was a bit unfortunate, although I know he would be happy for that. Jinho was bullied throughout the whole year for being Asian. I couldn’t see what’s wrong with being a different race, but students in our school didn’t think the way I did. I was the only person who approached Jinho, kindly. At first, he was kind of intimidated by me but I tried my best to connect with him. I started following him around, sitting with him at the cafeteria, studying around him at the library, and more. Soon Jinho got comfortable and I did all my best to protect him at all cost.

Today is the last day Jinho will stay here in the US. Since the party only accepts Jinho’s family members who live here in the state, he decided to sneak me in the venue in the morning. The party doesn’t start until 6 pm so we have the rest of the day for us to have fun together.

“Just drop us by the building, Gramps.” Jinho said to his driver as we approach the building. “And please make sure you won’t tell Mom or Dad.”

“Yeah of course I wont. I don’t want to ruin my favorite grandson’s last day here, right?” The man chuckled as he pull over by the sidewalk.

Jinho and I got out the car and he told me to enter the building as he would need a few word with his grandfather first, so I went in with my small backpack and sat on the sofa on the lounge. A few minutes later, Jinho came in with something in his hand. It looked like some sort of a small glass bottle with something shiny in it but I didn’t get a clear look at it as he hid it in his pocket. He pulled me by the arm and lead me to the elevator.

The elevator binged and the door opened. We entered and waited until we arrived at the highest floor. The door opened again and we got out and see the glory of the venue.

Jinho’s family was well prepared. The venue looked as if someone’s getting married today. There was a buffet on the side with a lot of tables for guests. Curtains fall down from the glass roof which made it look like a bit of a ceremony. There were tons of foods I’ve never seen before, and I quickly guessed that those were Korean foods.

There were people behind the buffet, most of them are still preparing for the party. These were also people fixing the curtains and tidying up the whole venue. What I’ve noticed though is that everyone were Asians. More specifically, Koreans. Jinho’s family was really picky with whom to let in the venue and it shows.

“Daniel.” Jinho called my name and I looked behind me. “Do you wanna eat first before we take a swim?”

“Ah... No. I’m full. Thanks.”

“Come on! At least just a few spoons. I want you to try my country’s dishes.”

I couldn’t really decline from Jinho. He’s very nice to me and all, and I can’t help myself but follow him. He grabbed me a plate from the buffet and got a few desserts and sides. Jinho told me what they are called whenever he get one. He got a few dumplings and placed them on the plate. On a small bowl, he poured some of those rice cakes with some sort of a spicy sauce. He also took a few of those vegetable rolls with rice wrapped in seaweed. After that, he guided me to the table.

“If you can’t use the chopsticks, here’s a fork.” He placed the plate and the utensils on the table and I sat down.

Jinho went back to the buffet to get me a drink. While he does so, I tried picking the dumplings with the metal chopsticks. It was very slippery and I always fall down the sticks. I gave up and proceeded in eating with a fork. I thought I wouldn’t enjoy the dumplings, but I finished all 8. There was something in the food that makes me want to try more. It might be because it’s very unique or, I may say, it have that unfamiliar taste. I then tried those rolls. I tried to pick it up with the fork but it only got the vegetables in the center, and eventually, the whole roll fell off, leaving only the radish, carrot and what seems to be a ham. I then decided to scoop it with the fork and put in it in my mouth. Again, it was delicious and I ended up eating everything on the plate. What were left were the spicy rice cakes.

I was really nervous at first. I never ate spicy food before. I never even tried putting sriracha on my food as well. This is basically my first time eating something intentionally spicy. I forked the rice cake and slowly placed it into my mouth. I chewed slowly at first, but soon, my tongue began to sting and I can’t help but chew faster. Though that didn’t help and I breathed heavily, trying to get the air cool down my mouth.

“Dan!” Jinho rushed to me with a glass of water. “I’m so sorry!”

“N-No. It’s fine.” I said as I drink water. Although it didn’t help that much, the icy feeling in my mouth eventually felt much better than having fire dancing in it. I fell back the support of my chair, trying to keep my tears from welling out my eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I thought you can handle it.”

“No, really. I’m fine! See? I have recovered already.” I said. “Bet I can actually finish this.” It was supposed to be a joke, but I still proceeded in getting another bite. As I chew down, I suddenly realized it wasn’t that spicy as before. I drank more water so wash down the small stinging in my tongue, then I took another rice cake. Soon, I can taste nothing but pure sweetness, though with a little bit of spice but it wasn’t that painful at all. “This is actually very good!”

I heard Jinho do a soft chuckle and stood up from his chair. “Glad you like it.” He then took of this shirt and exposed his skinny body. “Should we go and take a swim now?”

“I guess we can.”

I stood up and tried to take my shirt off. I then stopped for a bit, noticing that my shirt felt a little bit tighter than before. My eyes widened for a second but I just disregarded that and took it off. 

Jinho jumped into the water of the pool. As for me, I couldn’t run to the pool. There’s something that feels off. I felt as if I’m slowly gaining weight. I felt much heavier by every second that passed by. I started to feel lightheaded as well. I got dizzy for a full minute and noticed as if the ground looked much farther than before. I noticed the black hair blocking my sight so I tried to comb it away with my fingers.

Wait... Black hair? As far as I know I have blo.... blon.... bl... black.... Yeah... What’s wrong with me today? Why do I feel so off?

I placed scratched my chest and felt them grew with muscles. My eye’s widened, but then I realized it wasn’t the same as how I used to make it big. My eyes felt much smaller. Back to my body, I looked down to see abs starting to form and my biceps starting to get gains.

I smirked. I guess my exercise routine is working... But... I haven’t went to the gym before...? No... I haven’t returned to the gym for a week...

“What the heck is wrong with-” I cut myself. I grabbed my neck and felt a much prominent bulge on my throat. Why did I thought of my voice weird? It’s supposed to be this deep... right?

“A-Ahhh...” A moan escaped my mouth as I felt something grow in my boxers. I suddenly felt so horny and my cock was hard.

Get a grip of yourself! Snap out of it, Da-... Dan... 

“Hey, Daeho! Are you really just going to stand there?” Jinho called and I was brought back to reality.

Fucking hormones, suddenly doing this to me at this time of the day. I don’t want my brother to find me weird. I’m not gay and why am I feeling aroused around him? No. It’s just that I haven’t jacked off in a while. It’s not because of him. That’s weird!

“Wait a bit, okay? I’m technically 7 years older than you and being this old is giving me random nausea.” I shouted back... in Korean...

I grasped my mouth, but then again. What was weird about that? Of course I can speak fluent Korean. It’s not that I lived too long here in the USA to forget how to speak in my native language.

Fuck this. Maybe pool water will calm my mind down.

I slowly dipped into the water. I remembered my phone was in my pocket so I pulled it out and sat on the corner. I looked at me phone and saw my reflection on the black screen.

Right. Haha. Very funny, brain. Stop messing with me, making me think like I’m not Asian. I’m Daeho Park, 25 years old. A Korean in America.

Jinho swam near me and sat beside me under the sun.

“Bro. I’m so happy you’ll come back home with me.”

“Same, Jinho. Same.”

“I’m so thankful Grampa Timothee convinced you to make up with me.”

“Hey, Jinho. Let’s forget our problem before, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jinho gave me one last smile before he splashed me with water.

“Hey! This jerk! My phone might get-”

“Then swim with me, you idiot!”

[xhanisai]

Can I be that one annoying fan that spams you every day with basically the same question? That being Kiss AU frightningale. If you would be so kind.

Well, since you kindly gave me that Ko-Fi UwUwUwU, I can spare an ounce of kindness~~~ 

This will be a long one~ Enjoy! (P.S. I have made a lot of changes here to make this, hopefully much more interesting…) 

The episode starts off with Gabriel dragging his son away to the venue for the Chat Noir costume fitting. Adrien’s trying everything to escape, ranging from faking he’s sick to clinging to the railings on the stairs. Gabriel and Nathalie struggled to get him to let go but Gorilla comes to their rescue, managing to pluck him off with ease. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” Adrien hollered out childishly, kicking his legs and banging his fists against Gorilla’s back as he was held like a sack of potatoes, the group making way out of the house and to the limo. 

“Never make us do that again, Son.” Gabriel grumbled out, running his fingers through his unruly hair before quickly straightening the locks back. A frazzled Nathalie handed him a comb with a huff.

“How about, don’t force me into doing things I don’t want to? Hmm?” Adrien sassed, looking as intimidating as a caught kitten. He could feel Plagg cackling in his jacket, the cursed being doing nothing to help. 

“It’s just a fitting Adrien- plus it’s a very good opportunity for you! You get to meet an international popstar and perform in her music video, dressed up as one of those superheroes you adore.” 

“B-B-But…I’m just a stick! I won’t do any justice to Chat Noir’s muscles and abs!” For effect, Adrien poked his shoulders. “See? Skin and bones.”

“Nonsense~ my stylists have commented about your developing muscles during your shoots. All those fencing and basketball lessons have been paying off,” Mr. Agreste chirped with a cheesy grin, pushing his glasses back against the nose. Adrien was immediately reminded of those dopey glasses characters in the hundreds of anime he’s watched. 

“Besides, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be picked up by Vincent and his crew in five minutes to meet up at the venue and dress as your counterpart.” Nathalie added, scrolling through her tablet. She then flickered her eyes towards the boy’s curious face, glasses glinting under the light for a split second. “You wouldn’t want her to be paired with any other random Parisian, right?” 

You see, Adrien is usually a very bright boy, evidenced by his top grades, ability to adapt and so on.

This is not the case right now.

Completely dismissing the disastrous problem awaiting him, Adrien’s mind was clouded with utmost jealousy. Images of his talented Princess being oogled by some…some random KID in HIS costume…making her SMILE and even…HOLDING HER HAND??? 

‘Oh my God…what if they try to make the boy kiss my Marinette?’ Adrien screams internally, dismissing another important factor before jumping out of Gorilla’s grasps (who coincidentally loosens his grip) and darted inside the vehicle. 

“TO THE VENUE! ONLY I CAN BE THE CHAT NOIR TO MARINETTE’S LADYBUG!” The boy beeped the horn for good measures. 

“Why didn’t you use my daughter-in-law’s name to coax him in the first place, Nathalie?” Gabriel’s eyebrow twitched with irritation. His assistant simply mirrored the look. 

“It was one way I was able to get you to do some workout, sir.” Her eyes narrowed further but inside, she was fighting a grin when Gabriel spluttered. “After all, someone has been gaining a few extra pounds ever since we got friendly with your future in-laws.” 

“I-I have no idea what you mean!” Her boss harrumphed, entering the limo with a grumble. Nathalie didn’t miss the way he clutched his stomach with a pout. “It’s not my fault that they don’t let me leave till they’ve fed me three helpings of dumplings…”

Meanwhile, Marinette is kidnapped hauled away by Vincent, Alya and the rest of the girls from her class, much to her protests. Sabine and Tom watches the scene unfold with a cup of tea in hand and some sweets. Their smiles only broadening. 

“Alya-aaaa! Lemme go! Lemme go-ooooo!” What good was being Ladybug when she can’t seem to escape her best friend’s shoulder, getting carried away like a THING? Marinette let out another huff as the girls finally made way outside, a car waiting for them. 

“You can keep wriggling and fighting but you’re no match with Mama Bear Alya’s muscles~!” Her best friend hooted, flexing her free arm with exaggeration as the rest of the group giggled. “And gurl! You’re light as hell! What the heck? No wonder you can’t make me budge.”

“I am big and strong! I can take you all in one go! I’ll prove it right now!” Marinette retaliated. No one took her seriously. “I just wanted to be a backup dancer and so did Adrien!!!” The girl resorted back to whining again, flopping in defeat.

“Really? He was actually pretty adamant in taking the Chat Noir role.” Mylene nodded as did the others. 

“What? Since when? We both agreed to be backup with you girls yesterday night during a call.” 

“Someone call Barbie Doll right now,” Alya suggested whilst shoving Marinette inside the car unceremoniously, ignoring her groans. Alix rolled her eyes, whipping her phone out and got inside the vehicle, purposely squishing Marinette against the car’s door on the other side so that she had no means of escape. 

The model finally picked up when the girls were on the road, his annoyance clear through the speaker.

“Don’t tell me you girls are already at the venue and some loser stole my role- the traffic here is mental!” Rose and Juleka hid their snickering at this. 

“What role? Adrien! We agreed to be backup dancers- what’s with you wanting to be Chat Noir now?” Marinette butted in, glaring at the phone despite the recipient not being able to see her face. 

“O-OH!? Morning Princess~”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me you big, annoying, dummy-”

“Okay, Sweetcheeks it is then,”

“NO.”

“Sugarberry?”

“STOP.”

“But Darling~”

“ADRIEN!”

“Hey, now listen here. I didn’t do this on purpose ya know? I was all decked up and ready to be a backup dancer but Pere and Nathalie had other plans!”

“And you went along with it?” 

“They had to get the Gorilla to literally get me out of the house! Give me some credit here, Marinette!” Adrien groaned, slumping against his seat, knowing very well that his trio of guardians were all wearing matching grins under that poker face of theirs. 

“A-Ah, okay, so basically the same thing as me then, right?” Marinette almost felt bad for going off on him.

“Mmhm, besides,” 

“Oh?”

“I refuse to let any dumb boy take away MY woman.” Marinette could literally feel the cat radiating from him, annoyance pumping through her veins. Of COURSE he relents into his father’s whims due to jealousy! A tiny part of her brain was rather flattered, making her heart flutter but the raven haired girl immediately brushed those thoughts away. 

“You never really put up much of a fight after you found out I was gonna be forced to play Ladybug, right?” The baker girl’s tone was dry as hell. 

“Your point?” She couldn’t believe Adrien had the nerves to answer like that.

“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR ASS AGRESTE! COS WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU-”

“Oh please do be gentle~”

“ADRIEN!?”

“Love ya~~~mwah!” With a triumphant grin, Adrien hung up the phone. He knew very well of how much trouble he’s in but he’ll focus on that hurdle when it comes to it. Gabriel and Nathalie only eyed the teen incredulously, the former pinching the bridge of his nose. Why oh why is his son like this…?

Both cars simultaneously arrive at the venue, making Adrien realise how much danger he’s in. He could literally feel Marinette’s rage seeping out of the car. Nathalie pretty much kicked him out so that he can face his responsibilities. Both he and Mari have a stare off- the latter itching to throttle him whilst the boy whistles innocently. 

Marinette doesn’t get a chance to drag Adrien away as they’re both led into the venue by their peers, finally seeing people trying out the superhero roles. It was then that Adrien recalled why he and Mari settled to be backup dancers in the first place.

“Oh shit…” Adrien finally uttered when a boy slipped on the Chat Noir mask. His eyes then drifted to Marinette, wincing at her pointed glare before averting his gaze again. He fucked up. Their identities are screwed! 

The duo were too preoccupied with their thoughts to process Clara’s enthusiasm and squeals, babbling about how they’ve been going through hundreds of candidates for hours. 

“Wait- how come those two get the role immediately? We don’t even know if they’re good enough!” One of the teens exclaimed, hands on hips and glowered. Clara sweatdropped at this. “We’ve been waiting here for ages! Is this all for nought?”

A light bulb appeared on both the secret heroes’ heads, both wearing a matching grin as they turned towards each other.

‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘You bet so, Princess~’

‘Don’t call me Princess. I’m still mad at you.’

‘Oh boo…’

Marinette and Adrien were quick to agree with the teen, claiming how they should wait like everyone else so that there’s a fair chance without paying mind to Gabriel’s glares. The rest of the girls lined up for the backup roles, wishing the duo good luck whilst the adults were pulled away elsewhere. 

“Thank God…” Marinette sighed in relief. She vowed to give the teen an autograph the next time she’s transformed. The girl looped her arm through Adrien’s, both of them sticking with the Chat Noir line (the staff knew they were going to perform as a packaged deal so they didn’t necessarily have to wait separately). 

“You got a plan Bugaboo?” Adrien was met with a snort but all he did was roll his eyes fondly. “Aight, still mad, no nicknames. Got it,” With a smirk, he tried kissing her cheek to soften her up but his lips met her hand clasping his mouth instead, blocking him.

“Adrien…” The boy deflated at her disappointed tone. This is what he was worried about, disappointment. “Ugh- I can’t even be mad at you for long. We were both forced into this.” He almost perked up. “But you didn’t even attempt to sneak away when your father was distracted. You’re usually really good at that, dummy.” She playfully punched his shoulder.

“Forgive me?” Adrien’s eyes twinkled like a kitten. The aspiring designer found herself melting. 

The model considered her blush as a win, engulfing her in an ecstatic hug despite Mari trying her best not to care. 

‘They really do make a perfect Ladybug and Chat Noir…’ Clara mused at the front. She’ll endure another hour of the other candidates trying out the roles happily if it meant that she could get THOSE two in. 

Marinette’s plan involved not only losing the masks in the changing rooms but also messing up their try out as much as possible. The duo were also quite shocked to see Chloe audition and actually do a good job! As much as she’s a pain, that’s one less hurdle to jump over for them. However, Chloe’s attitude and rudeness really put Clara off so she didn’t make it through the auditions.

By the time it’s our superheroes’ turn, they put the plan to action. The masks were conveniently hidden away and the duo botched up everything they were meant to do for the auditions.

They clasped their hands like a handshake when asked to hold hands, they flopped on their faces after every acrobatic move, Adrien even fell off stage at one point, only bruising his knees and a blow to his pride. Clara and Gabriel didn’t give up on them; they found the masks and beckoned the duo to put them on.

We have the tense moment where time goes still as Marinette and Adrien eyes the masks in their hands. Silent apologies are given to each other as they slowly brought the masks closer to their faces. 

As per canon, Chloe barges in with the Mayor in tow, piles of paper in hand, claiming that Clara has no permission in shooting in France. The poor singer gets her mike thrown on the floor, much to Marinette and Adrien’s protests. Alya and co try to help Clara up but the singer runs off crying. Gabriel quietly shuffles inside one of the bathrooms, locking it and transforms into Le Papillon to akumatise the woman. 

Soon, Frightningale makes her debut, whipping everyone with her wand and turning them to statues if they didn’t sing in rhymes and dance. Marinette lures herself and Adrien into one of the changing caravans so that they can transform.

“Once again, Butterfly Breath and Little Miss Brat saved us. I thought they’re the villains as well,” Marinette hummed. 

“Hey.” Adrien flicked her nose softly. “Don’t be mean to Chlo’,” His shit eating grin only grew at Marinette’s gaping face.

“E-Excuse me!? Don’t be mean to the girl who made Clara Nightingale CRY-” She stopped mid rant and scoffed, refusing to play into anymore of the boy’s teasing. Tikki and Plagg floated out from Marinette’s twin ponytails, admiring their costumes once more. 

“You should really do something about your childhood friend, Adrien.” Tikki scolded.

“Hey! My kitten isn’t obliged to parent that bossy brat into a decent human being. He tried to anyways and it’s like she’s deaf to anything that’s humane!” Plagg countered back. The kwamis fell into an argument in a language that neither teens could understand. 

“I’ve reprimanded Chloe about her behaviour so many times, I’m starting to feel like a broken record. The more I tell her to stop, the worse she gets,” Adrien fiddled with the mask as a gloom settled in the vicinity. “Maybe she’s a lost cause…” The idea of losing hope in a friend he’s known since he was born was enough to have his chest tighten in pain. 

“Or maybe we’ll have to give her a wake up call.” Marinette suggested with a smile, laying a hand on his forearm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s her parents’ responsibility to discipline her- not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve told her off more in a week than her father probably has in her entire lifetime. That’s better than nothing.”

“What’s the point if it doesn’t do shit?” 

“The point is that you’re trying, you’re doing your best. You’re doing what you can to help her rather than being a doormat or letting her walk over people in front of you. I don’t think you’ve realised that the torment she used to spread has lessened in school ever since you’ve arrived.”

“…” Adrien bit his lip before glancing back at Marinette, swiftly turning her around so that he could embrace her from behind. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and pressed her back into his torso. “If it weren’t for you in my life, I wouldn’t even be half the person I am now…thank you Marinette…”

All the words disappeared in her throat, face redder than a tomato. Marinette mustered the will to put her hand on his head and let her fingers comb through the tresses. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” The girl finally asked. 

“Nothing…just super grateful that you exist, Bug.” He slowly picked his head up and puckered his lips against her cheek with a pure, innocent, softness that could be rivalled by silk. Both of their hearts sped up in sync as they tried to decipher each others feelings. Is this just a grateful kiss?

Or…

Is it something more?

Feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, Marinette promptly spun around to face Adrien and crashed her lips against his, pushing the boy against the wall. She was deaf to the kwamis’ sudden protests as they were pulled into the miraculouses, transforming the teens into their original suits.

Ladybug tugged and tugged on Chat Noir’s bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as both her slender hands cradled his face. The sweetness of their lips was a huge contrast of the ferocity and passion of their feelings, evidenced by the gasps they let out. 

She didn’t pull away, no. She kept going after his lips over and over again. His touch was like fire on her body and she was burning. 

“Mm- Bug…Mari…Hm- Marinette-” She cut him off with a kiss everytime he uttered a word. Chat Noir knew that if he were to die now, he’d die happily. Ravished and thoroughly kissed by the one he loves. When his Lady’s swollen lips trailed down his jaw, teeth barely grazing his skin, Noir gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back. 

His entire face was flushed and his eyes were glazed, as if he was in a dream like state. He let out an exhale, leaning his forehead against hers when she wrapped an arm around his middle. From all their past experiences, Ladybug knew that his silence was due to embarrassment, especially when she took the reigns. She decided to put the nail in the coffin.

“I’d be nothing without you,” Ladybug whispered into Chat’s human ears, lips brushing the shell before skipping out of the van. A sly smirk escaped her when the sound of a body tumbling on the floor and a soft groan was emitted by the boy. 

“Hnnnn that girl is gonna be the death of me, godammit!” 

Just like canon, they attempted to fight Frightningale but ended up getting zapped by the whip. They sing and dance their way through, using the lucky charm to their advantage and even waltzing at some point (whether that was to deter the akuma or just an excuse to hold each other close, neither of them admitted). 

Once purified, Clara is quick to coo and thank the heroes, even flustering them when she mentioned how much of a cute married pair they are. The Heroine whispers an alternate plan for the video so that not only would Clara not get in trouble for shooting, there’d be a way to incorporate many people. Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to leave when she asks how many kids they have and if their children had the same costumes as them.

The episode ends with the whole class watching the video at the library, commenting and cheering whenever one of them showed up. The video ends with Marinette wearing a Chat Noir mask and Adrien wearing a Ladybug pair. This gave Alya and the girls the opportunity to tease the lovebirds about their terrible auditions before the shooting. 

“You’re right! I’d make a terrible Ladybug. Besides, I think black is more of my colour, don’t you agree, Buggaboy?” Marinette teased, eating up the way Adrien’s cheeks reddened for a split second. He knew she was never going to let up the fact that he almost combusted on the spot when she wore his mask.

“Always knew you were a furry, Marichat,” He delivered with a wink, his ego boosted with the way everyone else burst into laughter despite Marinette’s incredulous disagreements. 

“I didn’t sign up for this! Hmmph! Not even the real Chat Noir would be this mean,” She blew a raspberry and crossed her arms, slouching on her seat. 

“You’re right, he’d treat you like the princess you are,” Adrien quickly swooped in, kissing her brow. The crease between her brows softened as a result and a light blush decorated her cheeks. They darkened when everyone else quipped with how ‘smooth’ or ‘cheesy’ Adrien was being. 

“Just get married already!” Kim sighed in mock disgust. “Your flirting has put all of ours combined to shame, Agreste,” 

“Wasn’t aware that you guys knew how to flirt,” The cheeky boy clicked his tongue, quickly darting off whilst his boy group gave chase (along with Alix). A few mock threats were heard before the noise faded away, out of the door.

“Think they’ll keep him alive, Mariboo~?” Alya nudged her best friend’s shoulder, stealing Adrien’s seat. 

“I think they’d do me a favour if they killed him.” Marinette huffed.

“You don’t mean tha-aaaaat,” 

“You’re right, I don’t,” Marinette dropped the hard to get act and squealed, the rest of the girls joining, huddling her into a group hug. 

THE END.

I HOPE THIS WAS AIGHT! 

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter HERE

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sarah had something of a reprieve from her unplanned-planned date night/tennis match/whatever with Greg when Shan kindly called her to say she couldn’t stop vomiting and had to be sent home from work. As always, Sarah was her first port of call but she sounded absolutely terrible over the phone, and Sarah felt bad leaving her to fend for herself. Scott would often run a mile at the first sign of someone being ill, so scared was he of being even marginally unwell and Chris would, well, he was just absolutely useless with a crying woman.

She had managed to catch Greg on her way out and apologised for cancelling at short notice. He seemed disappointed but was quick to suggest another catch-up when things had calmed down. She had realised that he might have thought she was blowing him off with a lame excuse and made a note to speak to him the next time she saw him. Audrey mentally fired darts at Sarah’s head as she waved her a goodbye, deliberately avoiding a lecture.

“My stomach really hurts. I think I might be dying,” Shan over-exaggerated.

“You’re not dying, OK? You’ve probably got some food poisoning, though. Did you eat or drink anything weird in the last 48 hours?” Sarah asked over the phone as she got ten minutes away from their apartment.

“No just that tequila. I don’t think it’s that, though, and...oh wait...” she stopped herself. “I ate sushi.”

“What the fuck, Shanna? You’re practically allergic to sushi?” Sarah exclaimed over the phone to the surprise of a runner who’d just overtaken her as she crossed through the park. “Why did you eat that? You know what? Doesn’t matter. Just keep drinking water and stay close to the bathroom for a little while. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chris was hanging in the hallway outside their front door when she finally arrived home. She knew it must be bad for him to risk being spotted by her overly enthusiastic neighbour, and he looked like he had been emotionally scarred for life.

“How’s she doing?” Sarah dared to ask.

“There are sounds coming from her that I have never heard made by another human being before.” He hung his head low. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Sarah chuckled and place a comforting hand on his shoulder before brushing past him and walking inside. Sure enough, she found her on the floor of their bathroom, leaning by the toilet bowl. For some reason, all the towels were on the floor and the window was wide open which was, she figured, Chris’ way of dealing with things.

“He’s been rubbing my back but that just made it worse.” Shan said before retching again. She looked pitiful curled up on the floor like this, the last of her mascara making unflattering tracks down her cheeks. Her curly hair was unruly most of the time as it was but now it looked even more like a bird’s nest.

Sarah dumped her bag and sat down beside her. Back-rubbing never worked, she knew this all too well but still thought it was cute of Chris to at least try it. Seriously, what was it with people throwing up near her lately? Instead, she moved the strands of hair sticking to her forehead and gently ran her hand over the back of her head and neck in circular massaging motions to ease some of her strain.

“Do you think you could eat some dry toast? Or a banana maybe?” Sarah suggested. “You need to keep your stomach active.”

“i just want this to end...”

“I know you do. I think it’s just a case of waiting this out now.” Sarah kept her voice as soothing as possible and continued to gently run her hand over her hair, attempting to lightly detangle knots as she found them. Shan would thank her for that later.

Chris was perched on a stool against the breakfast table eating a banana when Sarah walked back in. “Did she tell you?” he asked, mild irritation showing in his voice.

“Yep. why sushi of all things?” Sarah questioned him as if he might know something. “I bought that for her by the way, Potassium is good for the body after food poisoning.”

“No idea. But I bet that Ben has something to do with it. Did you know he was back in town?” He quizzed her somewhat accusatorially. Sarah held her hands up, silently remonstrating her lack of knowledge.

Ben was someone Shanna had gone to High School with and met again in college. They had dated on and off, usually when Ben dictated, until he’d left Boston to join his Uncle’s political campaign in Chicago. Sarah had only met him twice but once was enough to know he was trouble and the somewhat nauseating kind, not the entertaining kind. A few years back, Ben had been responsible for Shan getting points on her licence when he’d been caught speeding after admitting to her his licence had been revoked following his DUI charge. It was the first real experience Sarah had had of an Irish family arguing and they failed to notice she had snuck out to a hotel for the night to avoid the conflict. Lisa didn’t speak to Shanna for weeks afterwards and Chris flew back to LA to avoid hitting him with a baseball bat.

“I swear to God, if he even so much as shows his face round here, I’ll tie him to the heaviest boulder and shove him off Longfellow.” He always spoke in hyperbole when he got aggravated, like his brain couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so stupid. It was the same attitude he displayed when he watched Trump get inaugurated. Shan wasn’t stupid but Sarah had to admit she harboured a blind spot where Ben was concerned.

“You don’t know it was him this time. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. There could be a harmless explanation.”

Chris looked her dead in the eye before awkwardly shifting his attention elsewhere. She watched as he clumsily tried to straighten up in front of her.

“Chris? We don’t know it’s because of him, do we?”

Chris took a breath and pursed his lips. He looked like he had forgotten how to speak. “I spoke to Matt and he looked him up for me. Turns out he got some drug charges dropped and was thrown off the campaign last month and now he’s back home with his mom.” Sarah looked stunned at the information.

“Look, who else would it be? She was probably trying to impress him or something stupid. It’s not like she doesn’t have previous here, is it? What is so great about this guy?”

“Search me. He’s not my type whatsoever.”

“Yeh, well, you’re sensible. It’s only because of you that she’s at least able to hold down a job for longer than six months without getting distracted.” He launched the banana skin into the bin like he was shooting hoops. “I really wanna punch him. Just once. Can I, please?”

“Mate, don’t look at me. I’m not your PR Manager.”

“Well, I’m like 90% sure Matt won’t let me...” He leaned against the counter in front of her, arms folded, resigned to the fact that he was helpless. “I could sneak into this house and tie all his shoelaces together? Can’t get arrested for that, can I?”

Sarah laughed at the sheer daftness of the thought. “You could take all the stuffing out of his pillows?”

Chris shot her a look of disbelief. “OK, now you’re taking this too far. Whatever you want to do on your own time is up to you.”

“Oh, good, you’ve told him.” Shan croaked as she made her way gingerly through the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. She’d managed to remove her sweat-soaked clothes and changed into her pyjamas and a dressing gown that Sarah recognised as her own that was previously hanging up in the bathroom.

“Told me what?” Chris asked, his jovial expression suddenly changing to one of concern and increasingly so as his eyes flicked between Sarah and Shanna, neither of them making much of an effort to talk. Sarah knew it was on her to break the silence.

“Just...it’s nothing really. Honestly. It’s just my...my mom wants to meet me and...stuff.” As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them. She sounded like a teenager who had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Chris was probably regretting telling her she was the sensible one now. For some reason, she decided to carry on talking to fill the silence. “So, I thought I might let her see me and...stuff. Maybe.”

Chris was quiet for what felt like a long time. He was clearly vetting his words carefully before saying anything, never taking his eyes off Sarah. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times preparing to speak before quickly changing his mind. This one really seemed to stump him.

“I told you it was a bad idea, hun.” And with that, Shan left the kitchen and Sarah to her fate. How was it that in less than ten minutes she had managed to shift Chris’ frustration squarely on to her?

“Your biological mom? I thought you didn’t want to see her?” He asked albeir in a far too monotonous tone for her liking.

“I don’t. I didn’t. But they sent me a letter, and-”

“Who’s “they”?” he interrupted.

“The Adoption agency back in Flint.” Sarah quickly responded but then couldn’t think of anything else to add to ease the tense atmosphere growing around them. He pondered her response for a second not looking away from her. She must have looked about twelve now.

“Why does she have the courts intervening on her behalf?” It was a good question and one Sarah was all too aware she didn’t have the answer for. It did look a little desperate on her mom’s behalf, too. Chris still had his arms folded and from this angle they looked even bigger than usual. He had a very unapproachable manner when he was built like this and he would often use it to his advantage, not that there was ever a possibility of missing him in a room full of people, for one reason or another. “What’s her angle here?”

“I figured it was to make sure I got her letter. I don’t exactly know why which is why I was thinking of meeting her.” She shrugged and tried to move her feet from the spot she’d been frozen to. Chris clocked his disapproving stance and moved in a bid to equal her posture.

“Come off it, Sarah. You’re not thinking about it. You’ve clearly made your mind up. Why now, though? I thought you were happy with everything and with where you are?” He unfolded his arms and looked like he was about to take a step towards her but changed his mind and leaned on the kitchen island instead. “Is it not longer enough?”

She didn’t appreciate the tone. “Obviously, I am happy enough here. It’s nothing to do with me feeling like there’s something missing. I just, I thought it might be healthy to put some closure on some things is all. I really didn’t think what I chose to do would be this big of a deal to everyone.”

“I take it Shanna supports this crazy idea?”

“It’s not crazy and if you have to now, then no she doesn’t Not entirely anyway but she at least gets that it’s my decision.”

“I just worry about you sometimes. I don’t think you look out for yourself as much as you’re allowed to.”

She didn’t know how to take that. “I can look after myself.”

“I know you can but you shouldn’t have to is what I’m saying, not all the time. Other people can help, y’know? You might not realise it but you’re a big part of my family and regardless of what I say here and now, you know full well my mom is gonna be a hell of a lot worse.”

Thankfully, they both laughed. That was certainly going to be true. She contemplated making some kind of pact with him so that Lisa didn’t find out until was absolutely necessary but figured now wasn’t the time to ask him. Instead she opted to bring him in for a hug and she felt him physically calm in her arms, no doubt at Shan’s predicament as well.

“i appreciate you concern, I really do, but I need to figure this out myself.” She fixed him with as big a grin as she could manage. It might help her believe it, too.

Chris wasn’t so convinced.

*

Thankfully, Shan made it through the night without swallowing her tongue. Sarah could only manage a couple of hours sleep in the end and would keep waking at random intervals to check on her. At one point, she thought she could hear Chris moving around in their lounge but decided against checking to see if he was OK. The rule of thumb for living with the Evanses, according to Carly, dictated you could only attainably deal with one of them at a time.

She left for work an hour earlier than usual in a bit to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere at home, both Shanna and Chris being as stubborn as each other.

“I’ve decided that I will let you buy me a coffee.” Greg said confidently as he walked up to stand beside her at the triage desk. “If you’re not busy. Lunchtime, maybe?”

“Oh, um,” She thought about letting him down a second time until she caught Audrey’s death stare on the other side of the corridor, coming towards them both like Jaws. “Yeh, er, lunchtime would work. No problem.”

“Great! That’s a date then!”

“Awesome, you guys managed to figure it out!” Audrey moved into Greg’s eyeline now, beaming at them both. “If you want to go a little earlier, feel free. It’s pretty quiet here and I don’t mind covering for a while?”

“Sure, that would be fantastic, thank you. Sarah, shall I meet you outside in 5?” Greg asked, his tone a little less than that of a giddy child being told he could eat candy for dinner. 

“OK, yeh. I’ll just go grab my jacket.”

Sarah waited for Greg to leave the desk before scolding Audrey or at least attempting to. She could never win an argument with her no matter how hard she tried. Truly, it was futile. Audrey was like some kind of wizard, which made sense given her history with her alma mater’s debate team. (side note: she was kicked out of the group after arguing with an adjudicator).

“It’s just coffee. I don’t know what you’re so bothered about. He’s nice and he likes you. Just...don’t bum him out.”

It was a quiet walk to Joe’s. Sarah wasn’t entirely sure what to talk about and figured talking shop might not be the way to go. He ordered for them both, just a couple of decaf lattes, and they took a booth towards the back so as to avoid any potentially nosy co-workers popping by. Not that she was bothered too much, she liked the people that she worked with; it was more that she didn’t enjoy the questions that came with potentially dating a colleague and it would also force her to calculate how long it had been since she had had a proper date. Was Chris right? Was Daniel her last known interest?” Oh god, how depressing.

“I really hope we get that game in some time soon. I reckon I could show you a thing or two,”

Greg managed to snap her out of her head.

“Oh, yeh, it wouldn’t be too hard. I’ve played maybe two games my whole life.” She saw Greg look confused. “Audrey bent the truth somewhat the other day.”

“He bobbed his head in understanding but couldn’t hide the hint of disappointment. “She’s been keen to set us up I bet?”

Sarah nodded. “She’s a good mate. She looks out for me a lot. I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve been in Boston now.”

“Oh yeh? Yeh, she seems nice.” He played with his cup for a second before speaking again. “I hope you don’t feel under pressure to come out with me. Honestly, if you’d rather not, I completely understand. I don’t wanna make you feel awkward or anything.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’ve liked working with you. You seem nice and you’re clearly very talented.” She smiled at him and for the first time she realised how nervous he seemed. He held himself in the hospital with such confidence and stature, it almost didn’t seem like she was sat across from the same person.

“Thank you. I like you, too. You’re very...unassuming.” He offered in return. She wasn’t sure how to take that and he must have seen a look of perplexity cross her face or something because he felt the need to quickly backtrack. “Not that, I mean. I mean that you don’t chase the limelight. You just do your job, very well, and you don’t expect any thanks for it. That’s refreshing. Where I come from, people are always vying for the limelight. It’s hard to mark yourself out as anything special.”

Sarah hadn’t thought of the medical profession as a competition before. She’d never thought she had to best anyone or prove she was better than anyone else. Surely everyone just had the same goal? Maybe it was different as a Physician.

Suddenly Greg made sense to her. She couldn’t quite believe it but she felt sorry for him.

He put his cup back on the table and looked at her, his eyes smiling. “So, that tennis match. Do you fancy rescheduling?”

*

[darkestwolfx]

Breakdown - Re-Review #16

Sorry for the couple days of silence! So here is the next part of the series and then I’ll be throwing up some more of my March Prompt Series tonight too. I also just wanted to say a massive thank you for the support to this series! Thank you everyone who reads, reblogs and lets me know what you think! You all keep me going.

But for now let’s stick with this gem of an episode.

So today people, is actually Sunday August 15th 2060 - no, I really want you all to imagine this with me let’s forget about the C-virus for a moment (just a moment because this isn’t me saying anything to do down the situation, rather enjoy your next five minute read and then think about it if you wish to) because we’re obviously still standing in 40 years time or IR would serve no purpose! And we are presuming the brothers have planned a surprise party - oohhh... (did anyone else think it seemed a little mean to start with)! And they’ve even managed to end up with a real rescue (I bet the distraction plan otherwise would have involved Gordon and Alan in some way)! And they’ve even stretched so far as to getting him a cake - from Paris, France! So I want to know how Virgil didn’t manage to find said cake, because they had to have picked that up in advance considering the travel time really and to factor in that they couldn’t have accounted for a rescue popping up with such appropriate timing... okay, birthday party issues out of the way- let’s go on!

If you haven’t already sussed it out, this episode is really all about Virgil. Screensaver materials, right here everyone (just doing my pubic duty for the day by pointing that out).

So we start out with everyone ‘forgetting’ Virgil’s birthday and then a rescue being called in.

And so of course, Virgil responds and heads out there to help.

“Thunderbirds go were other tow trucks can’t.”

“It will be a quick one. You’ll be there and back before lunch.”

“It’s beautiful! It looks like a... huge frosted birthday cake.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

And rescues this guy - hooray!

Who said ‘Breakdown’ 6 times in the opening scene (and it’s said about 17 times during the episode in total - so no wonder it’s the episode title).

“We’ll soon have you toasty as a teacake. Hmm... cake.”

And then he goes home, has a lovely birthday party and some great cake! For anyone who doesn’t know me that well and has yet to realise, I Love cake. My best friend now has her own business and that is great, but at the same time, makes me eat loads of cake!

Anyhow, Virgil had a lovely birthday party, all was well, end of review! See you tomorrow :)

Yeah, not what happened (though what we might have liked to happen), as well all know. A birthday party isn’t a rescue and clearly the writers thought we wouldn’t want to watch that - I would have, thank you very much, but hey - so on we go with the rescue, part 2.

So because Virgil is really good at thinking, he realises there is a tunnel and goes down there! I mean, I think this is another one of these ‘red button’ moments... just because you can see one, doesn’t mean you have to press it. Likewise, just because there’s a tunnel...

But it’s his birthday so I won’t criticise!

“Did someone call a tow truck?”

I think Thunderbird Two is a little more sophisticated than that but that was Virgil’s choice in words.

“Perhaps we should change our name to International Breakdown?”

“International Breakdown, we have a situation. Hmm, doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”

It was a good call to go down there though because he meets Dr Peck (whose also in red - there’s so many red uniforms in this episode). First time I watched this episode, I was like: ‘You’re an idiot man’.

I still feel a little like that, but I really do understand where he was coming from. It was a pretty valid cause to be undertaking something like this, unlike some we know *cough*Lemaire*cough*Fischler*cough*.

“It’s incredibly inconvenient!”

He sounds a bit like them though, but better cause, still I remind myself.

I still think Virgil’s heavy lifting equipment would have caused the ice to crack further after he nearly fell... but that’s not my are of expertise.

“Thunderbird Five, does the big book of saving people say anything about saving someone who doesn’t actually want to be rescued?”

“Does he seem like he’s lost his mind or acting against his will?”

“He’s weird and rude and kinda frustrating.”

“I’m due a little birthday luck.”

That you were Virgil, and that was such a close call. Any later and Thunderbird Two would have fallen down with the ice.

Rescue count: 22

“He’s on his way back.”

“Hooray!”

And then hours still pass before Virgil comes back.

And Doctor Peck (standing up now despite his injury) kindly rings Virgil which was a really nice touch and ends up being the only person to actually wish him happy birthday, which is both yay and aww and I still don’t know which one I’m leaning towards it being for me.

But do you mind ringing him back Virge and asking if he can;

1. jump 40 years into the future

2. Jump out of a fictional tv show and become real

3. Find us a cure?

Because he owes you right?

I’ve had to resort to my birthday collage from my original review, because 5 years later and it is still impossible to find good photos of these scenes. The balloons just gradually giving up over the course of the episode made me chuckle.

Also - anyone else notice the party hats? This is kinda a small image, but go back and watch it if you want to see properly, although you can sorta see it in the image below;

Basically, Scott’s is blue and red, Gordon’s is yellow, Kayo’s is black, Alan’s is red - matching the colours of their Thunderbirds (or in Scott’s case, the ones he pilots/co-pilots). Grandma’s is purple - matching what she wears, and Brains I didn’t quite get to. I wonder if Virgil’s would have been green and John’s orange...

So... on like a final note, I’d also kinda like to have known what was in the presents....

I mean, let’s face it, it probably couldn’t have been worse than Alan’s 21st birthday present in TOS ‘Attack of the Alligators’.

Yeah... that present was no a success...

See alligators (it’s a pygmy alligator pictured), I don’t mind so much, but crocodiles creep me out. I’ve studied them (because Orinoco crocodiles are critically endangered) and I’ve seen a Black Caiman (just think large, like really large for both - so Orinoco’s are the only crocodiles bigger than BC’s in the neotropics).

As a huge dolphin/whale lover, I was heartbroken to see a dead Amazon River Dolphin (also endangered) from the continued impact of BC crocodile’s teeth, and I stayed with a family out there whose son had a run in with one and was lucky to escape with his arm after being pulled under by one. The scar was horrific! If you want any context, these things have the bite force to shatter a turtle shell so... Anyhow enough that relates to my work - if anyone really does want to hear any more about anything above, just let me know and I will post about it.

[skipscabin]

Bet.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Word Count:800+

Rating: Fluff 

Warnings: None

Summary: What’s a friendly bet between lovers?

“I bet you $20 that I will be able to knock down more than you.” You chirp, poking a finger into Bucky’s chest. “Easy peasy.” He looks down at where you’ve connected your finger and takes your hand, bringing it back down.

“I think you’ve been out in the sun too much today and you’ve consumed way too much sugar. There is no way you can beat me, in any of these games.” He chuckles. “Your brain is sugared up and fried.”

“Oh, bull. Plus you ate more of that cotton candy than me and half my hotdog at that! I think you need to be knocked down a peg.” You square out your shoulders and puff up your chest a little bit. “ Big and tough super soldier here, and you’re even too scared to try.” 

“Alright, alright that's it.” He snatches your hand and pulls you towards the booth with the milk jugs standing in a pyramid. You greet the young teen working the stand and Bucky hands him a $10 bill. 

“Alright, age before beauty.” You say, taking the ball and handing it to Buck. He tosses the ball up into the air before catching it again. “The bottles are that direction Buck.”

“Listen, I’m just trying to get a feel for it, get the weight of it just right.” He replies with a smirk. You raise your eyebrows and give him an exaggerated nod and put your hands up in defense. He winds his arm back and lets it go, the middle part of the pyramid comes clamoring down, leaving the two milk bottles on each end standing. 

“Yikes. Tough luck Barnes.” You say, rubbing his shoulders. You hand him his second ball, eager to see what he’ll make of it. He does the same as before, tossing it in the air and eyeing up how the hell he would hit two of the bottles on either side with only one ball. He takes his hand back and flicks his wrist, making the ball bounce off the table the bottles stand on, hitting the bottle on the right before it *barely* rolls to the other side of the table, narrowly missing the second bottle. You purse your lips and tut to him. 

“Ah see, your tricky little trick shot didn't even work. Shame Buck a darn shame.” You watch as the teen starts to set the bottles back up for you again, but suddenly Bucky stops him.

“Actually, I’d like to up the stakes. You make the shot I couldn’t, as in only two milk bottles on each end, with one ball, you get your $20, plus I’ll get you another stick of cotton candy and, I’ll go on the Ferris wheel with you.”

“I thought you said it was a death trap?” You say, nodding to the attendant to set just the two bottles up. 

“I said it looked like a death trap. If we’re going down we might as well go down together. We won’t have to find out though, cause you won’t make it.” 

You turn back towards your challenge and look at the situation for a moment, you knew you couldn’t let him win. Especially now that it meant you would get him to go on the Ferris wheel with you. A battle you had already fought and lost earlier that day. Then it felt like a lightbulb went off over your head. 

Bringing your foot back, you took the stance of a pitcher, Bucky thinking you were just trying to be funny. You brought your arm back and let the ball fly, and boy, it went. You threw it with all your might and it hit the front edge of the thick table the bottles stood on, jostling it and making the bottles come wobbling and falling down. Just as the ball made contact the sheer force caused it to ricochet. It was hurled between yours and Bucky’s heads, causing him to duck and curse loudly. You turn and see the ball now just bouncing and rolling towards another booth, thankfully not many people were left in the little carnival. 

Bucky slowly turns and looks at you, a wide grin plastered on your face, you wiggle your eyebrows and turn to retrieve the ball. When you come back you hand the ball to the teen and hand him an extra $5 for the troubles, thanking him.

“Now, if you’ll kindly go grab us some cotton candy, I’ll get us a spot in the line for the Ferris wheel. You can just owe me the $20.” You wink and kiss him on the cheek, turning on your heels and heading for the glowing wheel nearby. He waits until you’re out of earshot before he laughs, one of those genuine belly laughs, as he thinks of you. 

God he loved you.

[booksncoffee]

under my skin - eight

eight || carry me home tonight

“Niall?” This is unexpected. She has to blink her eyes several times to make sure that they’re not deceiving her. “What-What’re you doing here?”

“Would you believe me if I tell you that I had a feeling you’re in need of a friend?” Niall quizzes with his brows raised. When Brooklyn shoots him a confused look, he lets out a chuckle. “Louis texted me.”

read below // story page

Niall’s entire face is glowing when he steps out of the lift and into the office. One would think he’s just won a lottery because he can’t seem to stop smiling as he says hi to everyone he comes across. And much to her dismay, Brooklyn can’t help but to look at him as he makes his way to his desk.

She also can’t help but to notice the effort he puts to look extremely good today – a thought that she immediately pushes away when he reaches his desk and pulls his chair out to take a seat.

But somehow, Brooklyn finds herself opening her mouth to say, “You look good.”

He kinks an eyebrow at her, shocked that she’d compliment him – that doesn't happen often. Which is why he’s quick to plaster a smug smile across his face. “Thanks, Cooper.”

“The date went well?” She asks, desperate to change the direction of the conversation. She doesn’t need him pestering her for what she said accidentally.

“Yeah,” he answers calmly before his face splits into a grin as he confirms her suspicion. “Going on a second date tonight.”

“That’s great!” Brooklyn replies a bit too loudly. Others might perceive it as her being fake happy for him, but that’s not it. She really is happy for him because she can’t remember the last time he went on a date. Niall’s a workaholic, which is one of the few things that they have in common.

“I know,” he agrees.

“I feel bad for the girl, though,” Brooklyn adds, to which he raises an eyebrow at her. “Going out with you must not be easy.”

“Hey, I’ll let you know that I’m a gentleman.” He counters as he points a finger at her. He looks mildly offended and Brooklyn chuckles to herself. “You’ll know that when you lose the bet and you’ll have to go on a date with me, which by the way is getting closer.”

Brooklyn shakes her head, scrunching her nose in disgust. The idea alone is enough to make her shiver, which gives her the push she needs to work harder on her upcoming articles. She needs to win this bet because she doesn't know what she’ll do if she loses.

“How’re you and Louis?” Niall asks out of the blue.

Looking up from the screen of her computer, Brooklyn’s mouth hangs open as she doesn't know how to answer that question. Are they okay? She doesn't know. Probably not after the way he heartlessly told her that he couldn't go out for dinner with her and after the way she bitterly sent the text message she composed within ten seconds.

But Niall doesn't need to know about that. “We’re okay,” she replies along with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Niall gives her a suspicious look and before he can interrogate her about it, she quickly gets up from her desk and makes her way to the break room. She pours coffee into her cup and takes a few sips of it before she closes her eyes and massages her temple.

“Cooper.” Niall’s voice startles Brooklyn, who loses grip on her cup and spills coffee down her blouse. She winces in pain as the hot drink causes her clothes to stick to her skin and Niall starts to panic as he looks around the room for tissues. “Jesus, Bee, I’m so sorry.”

Brooklyn runs to the sink and puts down the cup before she accepts tissues from Niall and dabs her chest with it. It’s no use because her blouse has absorbed the spilled coffee and now she smells like a cup of her favourite drink.

Niall watches her, mouth agape. He runs his fingers through his hair and apologises once more, to which Brooklyn brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “Do you have a spare shirt or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head. She doesn't think it’s necessary to bring one considering that this has never happened before.

“Well, I’ve got one in my bag,” he tells her and she cocks an eyebrow at him, wondering why he has an extra shirt with him. So, he explains, “I usually head to the gym before I go home.”

“You? The gym?” She didn't know he goes to the gym. That probably explains why over the years he seems to be developing muscles. Her cheeks warm up a little when she realises that she’s been paying attention to Niall’s physique all this while.

Niall rolls his eyes. “I’ll get it for you,” he says instead as he walks out of the break room before Brooklyn can kindly turn down his offer. She doesn't think wearing his shirt is a good idea, but then again walking around the office smelling like coffee – stale coffee in ten minutes – isn’t a good idea as well. The former sounds a little better in comparison.  

Brooklyn leans against one of the counters and lets out the breath she doesn't realise she’s been holding. One of her colleagues walks into the break room, shocked to see the current state of her blouse.

“I can lend you my shirt if you want,” she offers, to which Brooklyn turns down politely by telling her that Niall’s lending his. Maybe from here on out she needs to bring a spare shirt and keep it here. In case something like this ever happens again – she wishes to God it won’t. “You know, if I didn't know you two better, I’d say you and Niall are dating.”

That statement causes laughter to spill out of Brooklyn’s mouth, the sound startling her colleague who’s in the middle of pouring coffee into her cup. Luckily, she doesn't spill anything. But if she does, at least she has an extra shirt.

“What's so funny?” Niall asks as he walks into the break room with a spare shirt in his hand. “Here,” he hands Brooklyn his long sleeve t-shirt before his eyes dart from her to their colleague.

“Thanks,” she says as she accepts the shirt. Niall leans against the counter as well, bumping her shoulder with his as he waits for her to answer his question earlier. “Oh, Elle here thought we’re dating.”

Niall looks at Elle, who shoots him an innocent smile, and then he bursts out laughing as well. “If we’re to date, Elle, the world must be ending.”

What Niall said would’ve offended Brooklyn if she doesn't feel the same way. As it is, she does so she nods her head, agreeing. Elle, on the other hand, simply shakes her head as she lets out a small laugh before she leaves the break room.  

“Well, I’m gonna get changed now,” Brooklyn mentions as she begins making her way towards the exit. Niall follows closely behind and they part ways as she heads for the bathroom and he heads for their desk.

As soon as Brooklyn puts on Niall’s long sleeve, his scent invades her senses – he must have sprayed his cologne or perfume on it – and not in a bad way because she finds herself bringing the sleeve up to her nose so she can inhale the scent of Niall Horan.

Her heart sinks to the pit of stomach as realisation dawns on her. The emotion brewing up inside of her right now isn’t something foreign – she’s felt this before when she was crushing on Niall the first few years they worked together.

She’s kept that feeling in a locked box and pushed it to the back of her mind a while ago when she realised that she and Niall will never happen because of so many reasons. But when she puts on his shirt, the feeling returns, surging through her veins.

This is ridiculous, she thinks. What kind of a sick game does the universe want to play on her now? She has a boyfriend, for God’s sake, and Niall is seeing someone else. There’s no way she and Niall could happen and there’s no way she’s going back to square one.

I’m over him, Brooklyn says those words again and again in her mind like a mantra as she returns to her desk with her dirty blouse in her hand. She tries to ignore Niall’s eyes that follow her until she’s seated on her chair. When she looks at him, he shoots her a small smile before he presses his lips into a thin line like he’s preventing words from slipping past his mouth.

“I’ll return it to you soon,” she mentions, breaking the silence between them.

“S’fine,” Niall replies with a shake of his head. “You can, uh, keep it.”

Any other day, Brooklyn would’ve responded with a witty remark, but right now unwanted thoughts – ones that revolve around a person called Niall Horan – are swimming in her head. She hates that the idea that she gets to keep his shirt doesn't revolt her because it should. That’s how their friendship works – they both pretend like they repel each other although when it comes to something important, they would drop anything to help the other. That’s how it’s been for years, but now Brooklyn feels like her old self, the one that used to have a huge crush on Niall, is gradually returning. She begins to see him more than just her colleague that she happens to dislike so much.    

“Two days,” Brooklyn tells him, to which Niall cocks an eyebrow at her. She adds, “I’ll give it back to you in two days.”

Niall lets out a small chuckle as he shakes his head. “Told you, Bee, you can just keep it. I won’t mind.”

But she would. She can’t have Niall’s belonging in her flat, not when she’s hyperaware of her feelings towards him at the moment. She knows it won’t make much difference considering that she still has to see him every day at work, but sometimes, it’s the littlest things that count. Like the way her heart races when she catches him looking at her and when a whiff of his cologne invades her senses.

Brooklyn shakes her head as though by doing so, she could stop the thought from pervading every crevice of her brain. She’s afraid that it’s already too late, but that doesn't mean she’s not going to try. If she could get over her crush for him back then, surely she can do it again.

It won’t be that hard, will it?

&&

As soon as it’s time to go home, Brooklyn sends a text message to Louis to tell him that she wants to see him. She knows she should wait for his reply before she begins her journey to the coffee shop in case he won’t be able to show up. But luckily for her, Louis’ reply comes in when she’s halfway there: okay. See u in a bit

Brooklyn’s not sure what she’s going to say when she sees him. Maybe she can start with an apology. Tell him that she’s sorry for the way she responded to his text yesterday. She wasn't supposed to be bitter because for all she knows, he might be busy and she was just being overly suspicious when she thought he was avoiding her.

Why would he avoid her anyway? She can think of several reasons to answer that question, but she pushes those thoughts away as she walks into the coffee shop.

Louis is already waiting for her, something that she didn't expect because a part of her thought that she’d be the first one to show up. That way she’d be able to plan what she wants to say to him once he gets to the café. But it seems like he’s beat her to it.

“Hey,” Louis greets her, standing up when she reaches their table. He moves to give her a hug and pecks her cheek before he returns to his seat. Brooklyn pulls out a chair and takes a seat. “Hope it’s okay that I’ve ordered your drink.”

“Thank you,” Brooklyn nods and offers him a smile when she accepts the cup he’s handing to her.

“I was going to text you,” he tells her, to which she responds with a questioning look. She thought he’s not going to text her at all considering that he’s been quiet these past few days. “Obviously, we need to talk about… things.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Brooklyn agrees before she takes a sip of the coffee.

“I’m sorry,” he begins. “For yesterday. I really wanted to have dinner with you, I swear, but something came up.”

Something came up doesn't sound like a solid excuse, but Brooklyn will take whatever she can get. The main reason why she wanted to see him in the first place was because she wanted to sort things out between them. She wanted to get them out of the limbo.

“That’s okay,” she replies with a shrug. “You were busy, s’fine.”

Louis shakes his head. “It’s not, Brooklyn. I felt bad. So bad.”

“You shouldn't,” she tries to reassure him, but he still has a distressed look on his face. She’s not sure what else to say to wipe that expression off of his face. This is why she needs to prepare a speech before coming over here – she’s bad at confrontation, at least that’s what she thought this is.

“I really like you, Brooklyn,” Louis says as he places his hand on top of hers.  

Sirens start to blare in her head almost instantly. She’s lived long enough to know where this conversation is heading to and she’s not liking it. In fact, she can already feel her heart pounding faster and faster against her chest.

“But I don’t think now’s the right time for us to be together,” he lets out a sigh, giving her hand a squeeze. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair. “I realised last night that I can’t juggle my work with being in a relationship even if my bloody life depended on it. I’m shit at this, Brooklyn, I’m shit at managing my own life and you deserve so much more. You deserve someone better.”

Brooklyn opens her mouth to say something, but she closes it a second later when it dawns on her that she has nothing to say. Louis is breaking up with her and she hasn't got a clue what to say. What do people say, anyway, when their partner is breaking up with them?

“I guess all I’m trying to say is that I think we should break up,” he concludes. Brooklyn finally looks at him in the eyes. “This has nothing to do with you, I promise, s’all on me. It’s just… it hits me last night that I needed to focus on myself and on my work, y’know?”

She knows that because she went through what he’s going through a few years ago. She ended her relationship with her previous boyfriend for the same reason: to focus on herself. And although she was extremely upset, she realised that it was the best thing to do. She couldn't be with someone when her heart wasn't in it. So, she truly understands him.

“I’m so sorry, Brooklyn. I get it if you’re mad at me-“

Brooklyn interrupts him with a shake of her head. “I’m not mad,” she tells him, shooting him a small smile. His brows furrow in confusion. “I completely understand where you’re coming from and please, don’t apologise.”

“Sorry,” he replies, chuckling when she gives him a pointed look. “So, we’re good?”

“Absolutely,” she smiles. He lets out a relieved sigh. “Just promise me that you won’t forget me when you’re a famous model and your face is everywhere.”

Louis snorts at that, though there’s a hint of a smile on the edges of his mouth. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget you, Brooklyn.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Louis stays with Brooklyn until he finishes his coffee. It’s nearly 9pm when he finally decides to go home, as he needs to finish packing his things. Apparently he has an early flight to catch tomorrow morning and he’s nowhere near done with the packing. She doesn't know how he’s able to be so calm because she knows that if she has to rush to the airport tomorrow morning, she’ll already be at home hours ago.

“I guess I’ll see you when I see you?” Louis mentions as he pulls Brooklyn in for a hug.

“Yeah,” Brooklyn nods.

“I’m really glad I got to know you better,” Louis admits. That puts a smile on Brooklyn’s face because she’s glad that she got to know him better too. “Oh and please let me know who wins the bet.”

“Obviously it’s gonna be me,” Brooklyn says with a roll of her eyes.

Louis lets out a chuckle. He takes a deep breath, then, and she knows he has to leave now. “Well, it’s time for me to leave,” he announces before he leans forward and presses his lips against her cheek.

Brooklyn watches as he makes his way out of the coffee shop and into an Uber he called earlier. A deep sigh leaves her throat when she plops herself down on the chair.

Their relationship might be brief, but Brooklyn can feel sadness spreading across her chest as soon as he’s out of her sight. She can’t lie and say that she sees her future with Louis, but she also can’t say that she anticipates this break up.

For some reasons, it’s never crossed her mind that her relationship with Louis would end anytime soon. Things were going well between them. She always had a lot of fun when she’s around him and things were never dull with him.

But if there’s one thing Brooklyn has learnt it’ll be that some things are meant to come into her life but not to stay.

&&

Brooklyn considers going to the bar to get something to drink, but she doesn't think drinking on a working night is a wise thing to do. So she stays at the coffee shop and orders a cup of tea – something that doesn't happen often because she’s not a big fan of tea.

Beck has texted her a couple of times, asking her of her whereabouts. She responds to those texts by telling him that she’s at a coffee shop and that she’ll be back soon. Three dots appear on her screen a few seconds later as Beck types his reply.

With her eyes fixed on the screen, she fails to realise that someone has just walked up to her table and pulled out a chair in front of her. It isn’t until she hears the clearing of someone’s throat that she finally looks up. She’s met with a smiling face that belongs to someone familiar.

“Niall?” This is unexpected. She has to blink her eyes several times to make sure that they’re not deceiving her. “What-What’re you doing here?”

“Would you believe me if I tell you that I had a feeling you’re in need of a friend?” Niall quizzes with his brows raised. When Brooklyn shoots him a confused look, he lets out a chuckle. “Louis texted me.”

Colours bloom across Brooklyn’s cheeks when she sees sympathy in Niall’s blue eyes. “So, he told you then?” She asks. He nods. “Well, that’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s embarrassing?”

“Louis dumped me, Niall.” He winces at that and she lets out a sigh, running a hand down her face. No matter how much she dislikes looking so vulnerable in front of Niall, she knows she needs to talk about this to someone. Besides, Niall’s known to be a good listener. “Did you know that the reason why I wanted to see him was cos I wanted to fix things between us?”  

“But you didn't tell him that?”

Brooklyn shakes her head. “I just… His mind’s made up. He told me that he needs to focus on his work and I can’t force him to be in a relationship when his heart’s not in it, can I? Besides, things weren’t so great after, uh, he found out I used to have a crush on you. I mean we didn't fight or anything but things were different after that.”

She stops to catch a breath and to scan Niall’s face. It seems like he’s trying to process everything she’s just told him so she decides not to say anything. She’s quite sure this is the first time she confides in him – about her love life, that is.

“I’m sorry,” Brooklyn apologises after she’s taken a sip of her tea.

“What’re you sorry for?” He asks.

“I’m sorry for bothering you about my love life. I mean, honestly, the night’s still young and the last thing you should do is listening to my rants,” Brooklyn tells him, to which he responds with a shake of his head. He tells her that he doesn't mind at all. But she does, especially when he’s supposed to be on a date tonight. “Shit, did I just ruin your date night?”

Before she can start panicking, Niall places his hand on top of hers. “Don’t worry,” he reassures her. “You didn't ruin anything.”

Still, she feels bad. He didn't have to come over here to comfort her. “You should go back to your date.”

“What? You don't like my company?” Niall kinks an eyebrow at her.

“No. I mean, yeah I do like your company but-“ she splutters out, making Niall laugh.

“Then that’s settled. I’m staying here with you,” he concludes. He glances at her cup, then, his eyes widening a little. “Are you actually drinking tea?”

“Yes,” Brooklyn answers sheepishly. Laughter tumbles out of Niall’s mouth and that sound alone is enough to put a smile on her lips. “What? S’not like I’ve never drank tea before.”

“Pretty sure you said – a few times, I think – you’d take coffee over tea anytime,” Niall reminds her. “You also said it tastes like leaves.”

She scrunches up her nose at that. Now that Niall has reminded her of what she used to say, she can’t drink her tea anymore. It does taste like leaves. She didn't know how she’s able to drink it.

She pushes the cup away, wishing that she had coffee instead. “Thanks, now I can’t drink it anymore.”

Niall chuckles as he picks up the cup and finishes the tea in two sips. He doesn't like it when people waste food or drink so he takes it upon himself to finish it.

Brooklyn keeps her eyes on him as he drinks. He raises an eyebrow at her. “I just can’t believe you’re here.”

“Told you, Bee, I could tell that you’re in need of a friend.” His reply earns him an eye roll from Brooklyn. Despite that, there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “Louis might be my friend, but he’s shite for breaking up with you.”

“Why’d you say that?” Brooklyn asks, curious.

“You’re amazing,” he answers simply. His response takes her by surprise because she certainly didn't expect that. “And I’m positive one day he’s gonna look back and regret it.”

“Well, uh, thank you for saying that,” Brooklyn replies. She’s unsure of what to say. “I doubt he’s gonna regret breaking up with me cos I’ve got to be the most boring person he’s ever met-“

“No, don’t say that,” Niall counters.

Brooklyn rolls her eyes. “C’mon, Niall. You said I’m boring.”  

“That’s a joke.”

Ignoring his remark, she continues, “He’ll find someone new someday – I’m sure of that. Someone who’s as fun as he is and someone who’s better than me.”

Niall shakes his head, disagreeing. Brooklyn’s quite certain she’s imagining it but he looks somewhat frustrated. “There’s no one better out there, Bee,” he states, making her confused. He’s not making any sense. “You’re…” He pauses as though his breath is stuck in his throat. “You’re the best.”

This is new – that’s the first thing that pops into Brooklyn’s mind. He’s never said something like this to her before. Sure, he’s complimented her work several times but not once has he ever complimented her.

For that reason, she doesn't know how to react and allows silence to pass between them. Niall plays with the cup whilst she stares at nothing in particular.

“Thank you,” she speaks finally. Niall looks up. “For saying those things. It means a lot that you think I’m, uh, the best. No one has ever said that to me.”

Corners of his mouth tug upwards. “Someone has to,” he says with a shrug. “But don’t get used to it. After all, I am still the best.”

Brooklyn rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Of course. You’re the best.”

“Did you just… agree with me?” Her eyes widening, she opens her mouth to take her words back, but it’s too late. “Nope, you said it! No take-backs.”

“You know what? I’m gonna let you have it. Only because I really appreciate you coming over here to comfort me.”

“Who said I came here to comfort you?” He frowns. “I definitely came here to finish your tea.”

Brooklyn can’t help but to smile at him. He really does know how to cheer her up no matter how much she hates to admit it. And it’s so unfair how he knows just the things to say to make her feel better.

Niall stands up and offers her his hand. She looks at it, puzzled. “C’mon I’ll walk you home.”

“Are you sure?”

He rolls his eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, Bee, I actually do care about you and I’d rather not have you getting lost in the middle of the night.”

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Flying high - The teaspoon girl pt 7

A witch turns Y/N into a teaspoon sized woman, and Sam and Dean has to make sure she doesn’t get squashed – and find a cure.

Word count: 3340

I’m sorry this part has taken so long. Unforeseen stuff happened (1,5 weeks in hospital among other things), but hopefully you’ll forgive me the delay.

This is the last part of this series. Hope you have enjoyed it. If you have, please let me know: I love hearing from you guys. Also let me know if you want on – or off – my tag list.

From part six:

“It’s too heavy. You won’t be able to carry it back to the window.”

She thought for a bit, then tugged on the string in the hood. “Tie this around me. That way you can pull me back.”

“That’s… actually a great idea,” Sam agreed, offering his thumb up for a high five. “You’re a genius!”

She blushed, but puffed up, taking every bit of praise from Sam to heart, feeling bigger than she had in ages.

They needed two attempts before the folder cooperated, but finally Y/N managed to get a good enough grip on the slippery paper, clinging to it with both arms and feet as Sam pulled her back to the window.

As Dean flipped through the information, tutting and shaking his head, Sam lifted Y/N up so she was level with his face. “Seriously,” he said with an adorable smile, “we couldn’t have done this without you.” He leaned forward and touched his nose to her head. “This will give us just enough time to get everything done before we have to hide again.”

“Nah, it was nothing,” Y/N said, but the smile on her face never faltered. The feeling of being needed expanded in her chest.

“Um, guys…?” Dean interrupted, pointing to the road. A set of bright headlights moved slowly in their direction. “Time to make ourselves scarce.”

Sam dropped Y/N into his pocket, and Dean picked up a piece of paper that had fallen to the ground, and they made their way quickly, but silently, back to the car.

Almost back to the motel, Sam put his hand over the pocket, pinning Y/N to his chest. “Sit still, please. It tickles when you move around like that.”

“What? I’m not moving.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing… it tickles,” he said, letting her go.

Frowning, Y/N folded her arms across her chest and slid down to the bottom of the pocket. “Sorry. I’ll just not do what I wasn’t doing. Or you could just let me up on your shoulder.”

She would never get over that weird, slightly scary feeling of having a huge hand loom over her and block the light before picking her up and lifting her through the air like a swing – even if that hand belonged to Sam Winchester, and she knew it would never intentionally hurt her. But she had never been one for rollercoasters and amusement parks, and that dip in her stomach always made her slightly queasy. And she really didn’t wanna throw up in Sam’s hair.

But once on his shoulder, the nausea disappeared, and she enjoyed the feeling of freedom. And the warmth from Sam’s skin, and his intoxicating scent, of course – she alive and breathing after all.

Back at the motel, Sam put her down on the table, and picked up the folder they’d so kindly relieved the police of. As he paced back and forth to get rid of the nervous energy in his legs, he flicked through the report. “Jeez,” he sighed. They could at least  use good pictures. And… Have you seen this, Dean? This isn’t even… ‘…with psychopathic tendencies…’ Who wrote this? Oh… at least they got something right: ‘highly intelligent, and dangerous’…” Sam burst out laughing. “You think they have a template where they just fill in key words?”

Dean didn’t really listen to his brother’s outburst. He was more interested in what was going on on the table. “Hey, Sammy, will you shut up for just a second?” Sam’s mouth remained open, like he was about to give his brother a lethal rant, but before he could even think of a fitting insult, Dean continued: “Take a look at this.”

Four eyes were locked on Y/N, who huffed and threw her arms out to the side. “What?”

Dean didn’t answer her. Instead, he picked her up and weighed her in his hand before passing her to Sam, who blinked and bounced her up and down. “Huh…”

“Will somebody tell me what’s going on?” Y/N clung to Sam’s thumb as he sat her back down.

“Um,” Dean hummed, struggling to find the right words. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N, but you feel heavier. I mean; you probably only weigh an ounce and a half right now, but I’m pretty sure you weighed closer to one this morning.”

Sam nodded. “You know, I think you’re growing. Look, yeah, you can reach to the top of the fake plant now if you stretch.”

Her eyes sparkled with the thought. “Really?”

“Really,” Sam beamed at her.

“It’s definitely going in the right direction. But it’s going slow,” Dean added.

Y/N’s shoulders slumped forward. Sitting down on the table with her legs crossed, she sighed. She was so tired of being small, of being useless.

“Shit, no, no, no, no… You’re shrinking again. Look, Dean!” Sam put his hand on her shoulders as if that would stop the process, pulling her to her feet in one swift motion.

“Great! I can’t even grow properly!” Y/N’s voice was flat and weary, and she rubbed her eyes with long, slow movements.

In a whirlwind of arms and legs and swears, Sam gathered his laptop and the bowl, and threw on a clean flannel.

Dean and Y/N followed him with their eyes. “Hey, where are you going?”

“The internet café. There’s no fucking signal here.”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dean, now. We solved the case, and now it’s time to focus on her,” he said, pointing in Y/N’s general direction. “She’s waited long enough, don’t you think?”

“Here,” Dean nodded, tossing the car keys to Sam and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

“Drive carefully,” Y/N added with a small wave of her hand, sinking back down on the table, hiding her head in her hands.

When Dean came back, almost an hour later with steam billowing through the bathroom door, she’d had more than enough time to sink deep down into the darkest corner of her brain. “Look at me,” she muttered, not particularly caring to hide her misery. “I’m useless. Only thing I’m good for is a quick snack for the diner cat.”

“Hey now, that’s not true,” Dean said, surprising her with the tenderness in his voice. “You’re the reason we got our hands on that report, remember? If we hadn’t, we’d be so screwed now. The authorities –“ he spat the word as if it tasted vile “– would be on our tail, or at the very least, the sheriff would’ve noticed us. And I’m not in the mood to punch his greasy face, though,” he added with a wink, “he deserves it. He was an asshole.”

A small smile spread from Y/N’s eyes, and she nodded slowly. “You’re right. But still, I’m not much use like this. Gah! I just wanna be me again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful for all you help, I really am, but it does something to a girl having to be dependent on someone even for the most trivial stuff. Like… like getting out of the goddamn bed!”

“I know, I know,” Dean replied. “It sucks. But we’re working on it. Sam’s easily the smartest person in this town. He’ll figure it out. We just gotta make the best of things until then.”

As if on cue, Dean’s phone rang. “Talk to me,” he said, holding the phone with his shoulder while he opened a new beer. “Wait, hold on. Lemme put you on speaker. Bet Y/N wanna hear too.” He put the phone down on the table.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Hey, Y/N. It was a challenge, but I managed to translate the writing, the spell – I think.”

Dean pulled up a photo of the cracked bowl on his laptop and squinted at the pattern around the edge. “I swear, he’s like the biggest nerd out there,” he whispered with a scrunchy smile. Y/N giggled silently.

“What?” Sam asked. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Nothing. Go on.”

Y/N could picture the perfect bitchface Sam must have given his phone, because his voice was short and hard when he spoke again. “Right. The first two symbols are just for strengthening purposes. To make sure the spell sticks, I mean. And the rest… Well, it’s not perfect,” he said, his voice becoming more and more apologetic. “The language is formal and stilted, but I think I get the gist of it.”

In the background they heard the sound of papers rustling and a pen scratching over a hard surface. “This is what’s written on the bowl. Kinda hard to copy because of the chipped paint and crack from where it hit the floor, but…”

“Yeah, yeah. What does it say?”

“Right, so… this is what I’ve come up with:  The beginning says you who receive – or it could be steal, no, I’m pretty sure it’s receive this blessing – or it could be curse, apparently they used the same word just with different pronunciations, will stay in your mind’s- brain?, not sure about that one, dimensions. That last word could be an abbreviation, and in that case it’s about making sunflowers grow…”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Y/N said with a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes at all.

“…so I doubt it is,” Sam continued, too excited to pay attention. “But get this: I did a bit of digging and found a similar line in a novelty spell from the 70’s.”

Dean growled. “Goddamn hippies!”

“Yeah. So it’s a growth spell – or more specific: a shrinking spell. That much we knew, right? Says here on the website that the effects last until the receiver has grown back to his or her original size.”

“Great! How do we do that?”

“Don’t say.”

“What?” Dean turned towards the miserable outburst from Y/N. “So I’m stuck like this?”

“For now. But we’ll find a cure. I promise.”

“Jesus!” Dean sighed, shaking his head tiredly. “See? This is why I can’t stand witches. At least with a werewolf you know it wants to eat you.”

Sam agreed. “Uh-huh, but now we know what we’re dealing with, sorta. But listen… I’ve copied down as much as I could, we can go over it again when I get back. Three heads think better than one.”

“Sure,” Y/N groaned. “I guess.”

“Hey, Sammy? Pick up some food on the way back, will ya? I’m starving.”

Sam chuckled. “Always thinking with your stomach, huh? Yeah, I’ll see what I can find. The diner’s closed I think, but maybe there’s a Domino’s or something.”

With the promise of something to fill his growling belly, Dean plopped down on his bed and switched on the TV. Y/N decided to smarten up a bit before dinner.

About ten minutes later, though, she was in trouble. “Uh… Dean, can you help me please?” There was almost no power in her voice, and the fact that she was stuck in a Barbie dress didn’t make things easier. With every wriggle, the velcro ate a little more of her hair, and it was beginning to get painful.

She tried one last time: bent her neck even more, the awkward angle starting to sting seriously. “Hey, Dean,” she said again, with more force this time. Still no reaction. Was she really that invisible? “Yo! Dean! A little help here? Before I choke to death in a frilly dress!” she bellowed, breathing hard to keep the volume up.

Dean whipped around, knocking his silver knife off the bedside table, worry in his eyes and a half-chewed pen still in his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Y/N! What happened?” he muttered, hurrying over to help her.

“Got stuck is what happened,” she replied, combing through her hair once he’d untangled her from the dress.

“I can see that,” he chuckled. “You said you’d rather be dead than be seen in that dress, if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to dress up a little.” Pouting, she pulled the dress on properly, and motioned for Dean to close the velcro. “It’s nice to… I don’t now, feel pretty sometimes, you know.”

Dean stared at her. “Okay, who you tryin’ to impress? I know for a fact it ain’t me. Only one who isn’t here is Sammy, so…”

Willing the heat away from her face and failing spectacularly, Y/N stuck her tongue out. “Shut up!”

“Oh ho!” He grinned so widely his cheeks threatened to split, voice filled with glee, and he gave her a cheeky look. “It suits you. The dress. But you know you don’t have to dress up for Sammy to like you, right? He’s pretty much doomed already.”

“ ‘m not doing it for him,” she protested, but the butterflies in her belly told her otherwise. And Dean’s statement, however fake it might have been, made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, like she was floating on air.

“Holy shit!” Dean exclaimed, any humour instantly gone from his voice.

“What?” The elation deflated, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable.

“You just… I mean, maybe this is… Gotta go double check.” He returned tot the table and sifted through the notes Sam had left behind, muttering to himself. “Phone… Where did I put… Sam’s gonna go ballistic… So obvious! Come on! Where…”

Y/N ignored the rest of his muttering. It made no sense anyway. Instead she swirled in front of the hand mirror she’d convinced them to put up. Dean was right. The dress was a bit too big, but it suited her.

“You’re adorable,” Dean said, keeping his distance so he wouldn’t get hurt.

“So you’ve said…” Y/N replied with a lopsided smile. She was surprised she didn’t mind him saying so as much as before. Maybe it was the promise of a cure looming on the horizon, or maybe it was the feeling of the frilly dress swishing around her ankles, but she felt good.

“It’s true,” Dean continued, daring a few steps closer so he could sit down. “And Sam is crazy about you – uh, he’s probably gonna kill me for saying it – I mean it,” he added in response to the sceptical look she gave him. “Hell, even I would give it a go if you weren’t so damn annoying all the time.” Dean winked and leaned back just as Sam came back with two large pizza boxes.

“You’re not helping, Dean,” Y/N replied with a sad huff. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but lying like that…”

“What’s he lying about now?” Sam asked over his shoulder, fetching napkins and something to drink.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Not lying,” he said indignantly.

Y/N became a mosaic of pink splotches, and her skin burned like she’d been dipped in chilli powder. “Uh… he was just trying to make me feel better about this whole situation,” she began, stuffing a tiny piece of pepperoni in her mouth to delay the inevitable humiliation. “By kinda *munch* implying that you *munch* uh, arecrazyaboutme.” She finished silently and as fast as she could get the words out of her mouth, and took a long drink to hide her embarrassment and disappointment; despite her best efforts, what Dean said kindled a small flicker of hope in her, decimating her hard work at keeping her own feelings under wraps.

“Not implying anything. Also: not lying,” Dean repeated, stuffing his face with pizza.

Sam sat completely still for about three whole seconds before carefully putting down his slice and wiping his hands clean. His mouth twitched, and his skin was becomingly pink, and the look he gave his brother contained both daggers and poison.

“My brother is an excellent liar,” he said, silently communicating a I’m gonna kill you later to Dean, “but on this occasion he told you the truth. I am very… you mean so much to me. However,” he added with an apologetic smile before returning with another hard glare at Dean, “this was not the way I wanted you to find out.”

Dean just grinned and nodded sideways at Y/N, clearly wanting Sam to notice, but he didn’t. He was too preoccupied with gnawing on his thumb and looking anywhere but at her.

With a wave of his hand, Dean stopped Sam. “Say it again.”

“What? That you’re a liar and– ?”

“No, no, the… the other one.”

The rosy pink spread further over Sam’s face and down his neck. “Um… That Y/N is –“

“No, not to me, you dumbass. Say it to her.”

Y/N looked between the two of them, understanding next to nothing, and liking it even less.

Sam looked like he was about to die of embarrassment. “Christ! Um… Y/N… I really… REALLY like you, and I wanted to, um… Holy shit!” he interrupted himself, gaping at her.

Y/N was growing. Slowly at first, but with every word Sam uttered, she gained a little height. Soon she had grown three inches and the dress she was wearing was starting to split in the seam.

“Here.” Sam offered his flannel shirt, placing it gently around her tiny shoulders, almost drowning her in soft plaid. “That dress was cute on you, but I think it’s a bit small now,” he said with a wink.

Excitement coursed through Y/N. Sam was flirting with her – actually flirting, and she was growing, feeling more and more like her old self again. It was a high that kept her floating on clouds. Right now she could take anything the world could throw at her.

Growing bolder, Y/N scooted to the edge of the table and put her hand on Sam’s. “Things don’t always happen according to plan, you know. Maybe we should thank Dean –  I had planned on pining after you for the rest of my life, because how could you possibly have feelings for someone like me?”

“How could I not?” he replied, ignoring Dean’s irritating and exciting coos. “You’re brilliant. You’re smarter than me, and Dean (Hey, speak for yourself!), I love talking with you. Whenever you start on a topic you’re excited about it’s like you’re bubbling: always bouncing up and down and waving your arms around. It’s adorable. No one has taught me more stuff than you have. And you’re funny as hell. How many crappy motel nights disappeared into fits of laughter? And your laughter sets fire to my soul. You keep me above the water, Y/N.”

As he spoke again, she grew faster and faster, beaming from his praise, and savouring the butterflies in her chest.

“Be careful so she doesn’t outgrow her size,” Dean muttered with a bright smile, but nobody listened to him.

Sam shook his head gently. “You challenge me and make me laugh, and you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I wish you could see yourself the way I do. Don’t think I haven’t noticed when you stand in front of the mirror and criticise every inch of yourself. Please stop doing that! It breaks my heart, seeing you so insecure. But now… Not a day will pass without telling you how much you mean to me, and I hope you will listen. Listen and believe it. I can’t lie to you, and you know it.”

When finally stopped talking, Y/N looked up. Her eyes were shining brightly, and she gave him a sly smile, jumping down from the table, quickly buttoning her shirt. She bent down closer to him. The heat from his skin caressed hers, and she exhaled slowly as he came even closer. In her chest her heart beat so hard she could hear it clearly.

“Ew!” Dean exclaimed, blowing a raspberry and getting to his feet, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I definitely didn’t think this through. You’re gonna get all lovey and gross now, aren’t you? I’m gonna go hide in the bathroom until it’s over. Come get me when it’s safe.”

Sighing, Sam leaned back in his chair. “Way to go, Dean. You’re gonna pay for that,” he added menacingly before pulling Y/N down on his lap and putting his arms around her. He couldn’t resist burying his face in her hair like he’d dreamed about so many times. “Let’s just eat the pizza while it’s still warm-ish. And then you can go book a room for yourself. I don’t want you here to interrupt anything else.”

Dean faked a look of disgust, making Y/N giggle loudly, and just to be evil, she left a trail of feathery kisses down Sam’s neck. “Yeah, Dean. Get your own room. But first: where’s that beer you promised me?”

Tagging my wonderful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @iamreadinginsecret @barneybrigade @fandomismyspiritanimal @mogaruke @kathaswings @superwholockyooooo @missdestiel67 @blackfandomtrashandproud @wstrumpel @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @saradiamayaf @escabell @exploratiionist @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @femmewinchester @tardis-is-mine @badasssweetsrebel @sama1314 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @megasimpleplan4ever

[therake-1996-blog]

Pure Chap 7

*WARNING---attempted sexual assault in this chapter*

Chapter 7

Chocolate

 A couple months pass, and it’s almost Christmas. Zyglavis and I have been getting along better now, though I can still feel that wall between us.

I told Ichthys and Dui about Christmas celebrations, the decorating, the presents, and the food, and they quickly got excited. Once school lets out for our winter break, I have them conjure up Christmas decorations for the mansion.

“What’s this?” Ichthys asks as he pulls out a popcorn wreath. “Snacks?” As he goes to try and pluck one off to eat, I quickly grab his hand.

“No, no, no!” I say with a smile. “It’s a popcorn wreath. It goes around the tree.”

Dui and Teorus, who are busy using their powers to assemble said tree, look at me. “Why would you put food stuffs around a tree?” Teorus asks. I shrug.

“It’s a tradition. I don’t really know why we do it.”

The Christmas tree Dui created is gigantic, seven feet tall and very wide; it takes up most of the space in front of the large bay window of the parlor. We had to move the couches out of the way. Ichthys conjured a slew of decorations, ranging from colorful blubs to Hallmark decorations I showed him on my phone to wreaths to stockings. I can tell they’re having fun.

As we begin to decorate the tree, Zyglavis and Scorpio enter the room.

“What the hell is that?” Scorpio hisses, eyeing the tree suspiciously.

“It’s a Christmas tree!” Ichthys says happily. “Humans put them up in their homes during this month.”

“I know what it is,” Scorpio snaps. “I meant, why is it here? Gods don’t celebrate Christmas,”

“Oh, just leave it alone.” Zyglavis sighs as he sits down and begins signing papers. “Eden does what she wants, anyway.”

“The hell are you letting her do whatever she wants? Aren’t you in charge?” Scorpio’s sour attitude has never changed in the three months I’ve been here. Everything and anything anyone does is irritating or stupid. But he seems to be more comfortable around Snowdrop now.

Zyglavis doesn’t answer him, instead he tosses a stack of papers up to him and says, “Sign these while I’m working on this. When we’re done we’ll trade.”

 The fact of the matter is, even though Zyglavis is ‘technically’ in charge of everything, he’s letting me get away with a lot more now. It appears he’s learned that I’m someone who won’t bend to other people’s wills, even if they are gods. That’s why he’s avoiding Scorpios’ question. He doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t have control over me.

Forty-five minutes later, the tree is done, and the four of us step back to appreciate our work. “It looks really good!” Dui says, smiling brightly. Teorus nods enthusiastically, his blond hair bouncing with the motion.

“Yeah, but it’s missing something,” Ichthys mutters, cocking his head thoughtfully and poking around the tree.

“Like what?” I ask. We used almost all the decorations Ichthys created, and there isn’t much room for anything else.

“I dunno…” He says, stepping back and crossing his arms. Then he turns to the two other gods sitting behind us. “Hey, Ziggle, Scorpy, what do you think?”

“I don’t give a shit,” Scorpio snarls without looking up from his papers. In fact, he leans down closer to them. Zyglavis, however, turns to look at us, mainly, Ichthys.

“Do not call me by that weird name,” He scolds. After saying that, he looks up to the tree and tilts his head. The room is quiet for a moment as Zyglavis silently scrutinizes our work. For a moment, I worry about if he thinks it looks bad, and then I think, why do I care? I shake my head.

“Try this.”

Zyglavis then lifts his hand and snaps his fingers, and we turn back to look at the tree.

“Oh, wow!”

I can’t help but gasp at what I see. Gold specks of glittering dust lay all over the tree and decorations, making it look magical. And in place of the angel that was on top of the tree is a large golden star with a large pure white crystal in the center, catching the light from the ceiling lamps and sparkling radiantly.

“Hey, that looks great!” Ichthys says. “Can’t believe you of all people thought of that, Ziggle.”

“What did I say about the name?” Zyglavis speaks through his teeth, sounding annoyed. “Do you want me to punish you?”

“Not particularly.” Ichthys doesn’t sound at all worried. I wish I had his happy-go-lucky attitude, especially around Zyglavis, and even more so, Scorpio.

“Eden, what do you think?” Dui asks, turning to look at me. I smile.

“I think it’s perfect.” My voice is just a breath as I continue to stare at the tree.

“Good job, Zyglavis. You made her happy.” He says.

“Hmph.”

I’m still staring at the tree, so I don’t see Zyglavis’ expression, but I’m willing to bet he’s rolled his eyes or shrugged his shoulders. Next to me, Ichthys bumps me, then winks. “Did I miss something?” I ask.

He just smiles and shakes his head.

 A few days later, December 21, I realize that I haven’t picked up the book Lorraine wants.

“Dang it!” I gasp, shooting up from the couch and making Zyglavis and David jump.

“What?” David asks, sounding startled. I think he was half asleep.

“I forgot to get that one book for Lorraine! You know, the one about the vampire!”

“Edie, there’s a million books like that,” David grumbles, slumping back against his chair.

“I know. But I need to go get it.”

“This close to Christmas? Good luck with that.”

I stick my tongue out at my uncle as I head for the stairs to get my wallet and keys. In my room, Zyglavis says, “You’re really scatter-brained, aren’t you?” I throw him a look and am surprised to see that he doesn’t look irritated, rather, he’s smiling awkwardly   .

“My apologies,” I say as sarcastically as I can through my surprise.

As I head to my door, I turn back to Zyglavis.

“You stay here.” I say. He blinks.

“Why?”

“I’m only going to be like forty minutes. In and out. I don’t like shopping. Do some punishments work or something.” Really, though, I don’t want him to come because I think—and I’m using this term loosely—I think I’m starting to like him. More than I should. Ever since the first night at the mansion, when he turned so suddenly cold to me. So I’m trying to avoid spending more time than needed with him.

I mean, Zyglavis is stern, more than a little inflexible, judgmental, and cold, but for whatever reason, these feelings are planted in my heart, like tiny seeds. I know it’s just a crush, that it’ll go away, so I’m trying not to worry too much about it, but still.

Uncertain, Zyglavis eyes me.

“Seriously. I’ll take the main roads, and the stores are bound to be crowded with last-minute shoppers. It’s Barnes and Noble in Mansfield. I’ll be fine, I swear.” I say. He sighs.

“Alright…I can see you won’t bend.”

“Nope.”

“Just don’t get hit by any semis, alright?” I can’t help but snort.

“Alright.”

When I enter Mansfield, I turn into the Meijer parking lot. During the whole ride there, I was trying to rationalize my feelings, to no avail.

My first point against my feelings is: Zyglavis is a god. I am human. Obviously, he soars much higher than I do in every sense. Beauty, grace, intelligence, life-span…

The second point: He’s only protecting me because he’s under direct orders from the king. It’s not like he’s doing it because I’m precious to him.

The third, and final point I could come up with: Our personalities are completely different from each other. He’s stern, cold, and can sometimes be downright mean. I am carefree, flexible, and, although I’m sarcastic, I don’t have it in me to be intentionally mean to someone.

And then when I thought about reasons I might like him, I came up with: He held me when I had my most recent nightmare. He stopped a football from hitting me in the head even though it required him using supernatural speed to do so. He patiently and kindly helped me with my math homework. He warned the other gods not to try anything funny with me. He stopped a truck from crushing me. And he also sits right beside the bed while I’m sleeping in case I need him.

“Ugh!” I groan to myself as I climb back into my truck after having bought a huge box of chocolate—along with some shampoo and face wash I needed. I rip the lid off and shove two sizeable pieces into my mouth, effectively making me look like a chipmunk. As I chew, I groan again, and pull back out onto the main road.

It’s six at night, but the book store is more crowded than I thought it would be. I had to park around the side of the building where employees are supposed to park. The aisles are jam packed with people, and I’m hoping that the book Lorraine wants is still here. I hurry along down to the fiction section and begin looking. As I’m skimming the many books, a man comes to stand beside me. But he isn’t looking at the books. Out of the corner of my eye, I can swear he’s staring at me, but when I glance up, he averts his gaze.

I shake it off and continue looking.

I spend much longer in the store than I want to, but I end up not only picking up Lorraine’s book, but two for me as well. The whole time I was looking around, that same man kept showing up, as well as three others, eyeing me, watching me. I keep brushing them off as being just regular creeps.

The line to check out takes half an hour, and the men keep loitering around where I am, but I notice that there’s only two of them now. Ignoring the goosebumps on my skin, I pay and hurry out of the store to the safety of my truck.

The cold December air bites into my face as I step outside, sending a shiver down my spine. A few snowflakes fall from the sky, glittering in the air as they twirl gracefully toward the earth.

It reminds me of the stardust Zyglavis covered the tree with.

As I turn the corner to the rarely used part of the parking lot, I can see the two missing men that were following me around in the store. My body lurches to a stop, and one of my feet immediately shuffles backward. As I spin the rest of my body away from them I see that the other two are standing casually behind me, the burly one standing rather menacingly and the other with his hands nonchalantly shoved in his pockets.

These aren’t just regular creeps.

My heart kicks up in an anxious beat, my breathing coming in shallowly as I try to remember the self-defense David had taught me when I was thirteen. A palm to the nose will hopefully break it or shove it into the brain…hook a finger into an eye socket to pop the eye out…and the standard knee to the groin. As my mind races, my hand grips tighter on my shoulder bag. A small, frightened part of my mind tells me that there’s no way I can go up against one of these guys, let alone a group of four, but I angrily tell it to shut up.

“Why don’t you hang out with us?” The less muscular man in front of me says with a leering grin.

“Stay away from me.” I warn. However, my voice is nowhere near as powerful and fearless as I want it to be. He cocks his head in fake sadness.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. We just want to hang out.”

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder, yanking me back. Two sets of hands come on me, pulling at my coat and the waistband of my pants. I let out a wild gasp, my body jerking away.

“Don’t touch me!”

My hysteric voice rings out in the otherwise quiet lot as I ram my elbow into the man’s gut. He doubles over with a loud ‘oomph’ sound and I shake myself free.

 A millisecond later, my truck suddenly comes to life, the headlights lighting up the side of the store and the engine roaring as it accelerates backward. All of our heads turn to look, and I’m sure all of us look bewildered. My truck, which should have been unattended seeing as I’m standing right here with the keys in my bag, lurches forward toward the man who grabbed me; he jumps out of the way just in time.

The driver’s side door swings violently open, and out steps the last person I thought to see.

“Get in.” He snarls, his voice filled with rage as he storms threateningly up to the men who had herded me. I scramble to obey, tripping over my own feet as I sprint as fast as I can to the safety of my truck.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” One of the men says as Zyglavis approaches them. I see his left hand twitch, his fingers eager to snap and deliver punishment to all of them. From behind, I can’t see his expression, but the men instantly react to it, flinching away from him in fear.

It’s only natural. He’s a god, and they’re humans. Scumbag humans, but humans.

After another moment submitting them to his terrifying gaze, Zyglavis slowly turns and walks back to the truck, climbing into the driver’s side and slamming the door. Throwing it into drive, his foot slams the gas pedal and the truck revs loudly, jerking forward as if to hit the men standing in front of it. They all scramble to get out of the way and fall onto each other.

“Don’t hit them!” I gasp in spite of myself.

“Shut up.”

 Man. Zyglavis is even snapping at me.

He cuts the wheel sharply and hits the gas again, speeding the truck out toward the exit of the parking lot.

Completely ignoring the red light we have, Zyglavis makes a hard right onto the main road, causing cars to swerve and lay on their horns.

As I stare out the windshield, I realize that even though he’s driving rather erratically, I feel so inexplicably safe. The very moment I saw his face, no matter how furious he looked, I knew that I was safe, that he would protect me, and a part of me didn’t care that it was only because of his mission. I was just so happy to see him. I still am.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He commands me in a hard voice. I blink, and realize that I have a death grip around the sides of the polyester seat. Slowly, I force my stiff fingers to uncurl and reach back to obey Zyglavis’ order. As I click my seatbelt into place, I slowly look at his face. He’s staring unblinking onto the road, his jaw clenched tight and fury obvious in his eyes. His gloved hands are curled into hard fists as he holds onto the steering wheel. I notice that we’re going 70.

 “Um,” I murmur, trying to break the tense silence. “You should, you should probably slow down.”

“Slow down?” He repeats, his voice fiery and incredulous. Then he scoffs meanly. “No, what I should do is turn around right now and go back for them.”

“No, no! No, you really shouldn’t!”

“Then don’t tell me to slow down.”

We barrel down the street, Zyglavis maneuvering expertly around vehicles actually going the speed limit with surprising grace.

“Okay, but what about cops?” I ask in a futile attempt to make him slow down.

“I’m a god, remember? I don’t have to worry about cops.” He says the word as if it tastes disgusting in his mouth.

Wow. Zyglavis is completely livid. I’ve never seen him like this, nor did I think I would ever see him like this. He’s this angry over me? I turn my eyes to the road, the wheels in my head turning. There’s no way this is just about the mission, the order from the king to protect my soul. Zyglavis wouldn’t be this irate if it was. But I have no idea why he’s so angry. He is strictly supposed to keep me from the dark king and his underlings. So there’s no reason he should be acting like this. It could just be me overthinking things, but, some part me hopes it’s not.

“Are you hurt?”

The question, spoken in a much softer tone, makes me jump, and I look back to Zyglavis. He still looks pissed, but I think his grip on my steering wheel is loosened just a bit.

“Um, no. No, I’m okay,” I reply. He takes a slow, deep breath and nods his head slightly. “How did you know where to find me?” I ask him.

“The reflecting pool.” He says, his answer curt and clean. I blink.

“You were watching me?”

“As I have said before, trouble has a way of finding you. And you insisted I not go with you today.”

“Oh.”

I mumble my response and look at the dashboard. I notice that my air freshener has run out.

After another moment of heavy silence, I take a breath and ask, “So why are you so mad? I mean, protecting me is just your mission, right? And I’m safe now, so…” As I trail off, Zyglavis pulls into the Skyline Chili parking lot and puts the truck in park, slumping back against the seat and pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.

“Are you honestly that dense?” He asks, sounding completely exasperated. I look at him, slightly offended.

“Excuse me?”

“Those men…those creeps, were about to attack you, and you ask me why I’m so angry? Are you that kind, or just that stupid?”

As Zyglavis speaks, he throws a sharp, heart-crushing glare at me and I shrink back from him, my face naturally screwing up to show fear and sadness. Seeing my reaction, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them again. “Eden,” He whispers, his voice much gentler than before. “You were about to be sexually assaulted. Of course I’m angry about that. There’s nothing you’ve done to deserve that, nothing anyone does warrants an attack like that, and you are even more of a beautiful human than the rest. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” His face relaxes from its rigidness and a look of gloom overtakes it. “A part of my anger stems from anger at myself for not being more diligent with you. I should have insisted on going today, or maybe I should have paid more attention to the way they were watching you in the store. Either way, this whole incident was in part my fault, and I apologize for putting you in such a situation.”

I blink, staring dumbly at Zyglavis as he explains his anger to me. I can feel the roots of hope I have in my heart sprout up into tiny buds, like roses, and my expression becomes softer, my breath leaving me in a low sigh.

“Don’t be angry with yourself,” I say, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no way you could have known that those freaks would target me.” He looks at me dubiously. It’s clear that no matter what I say, he’ll still be upset with himself. I can see that he takes failures to heart, whether they are his or not.

I purse my lips, raking my brain to think of a way to make him feel better, and then, I get an idea.

“Hey, I know that gods don’t eat food, but maybe something like this will make you feel better,” I lean down to the Meijer bag at my feet and shuffle it around, looking for one particular item. Zyglavis watches me curiously, his head cocked slightly. “Aha!” My hand bumps a rectangular box and I pull it out, turning it to show him. “Tada! I had a craving for chocolate today, so I bought this, but there’s no way I could finish the whole thing on my own. Let’s split it.”

Zyglavis stares at the box of chocolates suspiciously. I make a noise in my throat and settle it in my lap, pulling the lid and protective covering from it. “It’s mostly dark and ganache. That’s the only kind I like.”

“Ganache?” He repeats, his voice strangely pleased. I look up at him.

“Do you like ganache?” I ask, tilting my head. Zyglavis blinks and clears his throat, averting his eyes from me. I can’t be sure, in this light, but I think I can see red dying his cheeks.

“A bit…” He mumbles. I smile brightly and pluck a circular piece of chocolate ganache from its spot, handing it happily to him.

“Then here! Chocolate makes you feel better when you’re upset. You can have as much as you want.”

Zyglavis seems hesitant at first, but when I practically have the piece of chocolate right in his face, he reaches a hand up and takes it from me.

To abate the silence of the cab, I reach a hand out and switch on the radio. The volume is on medium, but the instant I hear that song, Royals, I make a small ‘ugh’ sound and turn it down so it’s just background noise. As he slowly chews the chocolate ganache, Zyglavis says, “You don’t like that song?” I shake my head, strands of my hair falling from my braid.

“No. It’s way overplayed.”

“Then why not change the station?”

“Mm. I could.”

I reach down and pick up a piece of regular dark chocolate, nibbling on it as I flip through the radio stations available. I stop at Mix-106.1, where Flashback Nights is hosted, and, to my satisfaction, they’re playing Broken Wings. I turn it up just a little. Next to me, Zyglavis smiles a bit. “Is this song better?”

“Much,” I reply happily as I munch on my chocolate. “David loves 80s music. I was raised on it, and this song is a classic.”

The cab falls silent after that, not a suffocating silence like before, but a nice, comfortable quiet as the music lightly fills the air. The song as just started, which makes it even better.

“Take, these broken wings, and learn to fly again, learn to live so free…” I glance to my left and see that Zyglavis has his eyes closed, and is taking in the music more deeply than I thought he might. He’s even stopped eating his chocolate. Smiling, I say,

“Zyglavis, your chocolate will melt,” His eyes open and he looks down at his own hand, surprised, like he’d forgotten the chocolate was even there, and quickly pops the rest of it in his mouth. “Do you like this song?” I ask him, keeping my voice purposely quiet so the song can still be heard.

“It’s not bad,” He replies in the same tone. “I don’t have much to compare it to as I don’t listen to music humans make, but, I don’t dislike it.”

Looking at him, I can see the side of his mouth curl up into a happy smirk, and I smile too. “Is this what you refer to as a ‘love song’?” He asks me as he reaches across the console for another piece of chocolate. I nod.

“Yes.” I reply, keeping my response short so I can hear the song.

As I pick up another piece of dark chocolate, I think back on the few memories I can recall of me and my parents. In a rental car from the airport in Cleveland, on our way to Plymouth for the week to see Lorraine and David. Mom sang along to this song, I remember, and dad smiled and bobbed his head along to her voice. Her voice was smooth, like water or velvet, and she turned back to look at me as she sang, reaching a slender hand with a dangling charm bracelet back to stroke my hair. I remember her smile, so loving and full of adoration for me, her daughter, as she sang so beautifully to me.

I feel tears sting in my eyes as I remember her and dad, and I realize my mouth is moving. I’m singing.

I quickly stop myself, covering my mouth with my hand and my cheeks quickly becoming hot in embarrassment. “Why did you stop?” Zyglavis asks me, completely flooring me. I look at him, forgetting the tears in my eyes. Seeing them, he quickly straightens up, a look of worry coming over his features. “What is it? Is it what happened? Are—”

“No,” I quickly reply, cutting him off. I swallow tightly before I continue. “No, I was just remembering my mother singing this to me. It made me miss her, and my dad. That’s all. I’m… physically I’m fine.”

I run a hand down my braid, then slap a smile on my face. “Did you think my singing was bad?” I ask. “I don’t do it much, because I think I do.”

“No, I don’t think you sounded bad,” He replies, shaking his head slightly. “In fact, I think you sound very good. Your voice is light and smooth. It’s very pretty.” I blink, my cheeks, which had begun cooling down, warming back up.

“O-oh…” I murmur. “Ah…thanks,”

But don’t look forward to me singing around you ever again. I think to myself. I think I’d die of embarrassment, no matter how good I apparently sound.

The song ends, and Zyglavis throws the truck into reverse.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asks me. “I imagine you’re tired.” I nod silently, moving to put the lid back on the box of chocolates.

The ride home is mostly silent, except for one or two times Zyglavis asks me for another piece of chocolate. I smile to myself when I hand them to him. I’m happy to have discovered this side of him, the side that really seems to like chocolate ganache. I don’t know why that makes me happy. Maybe it’s because it makes him seem warmer, more human, than a strict, cold punishments god.

As we pull into the driveway, Africa is on. Zyglavis sits silently for a while, listening to it. I noticed on our way home that he tapped his fingers to the rhythm of some songs, or he moved his head back and forth to the beat. “You seem to like 80s music.” I observe. “I have an old iPod I don’t use anymore. Do you want me to load it up with 80s for you?” Zyglavis looks at me.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” I insist. “I said I don’t use it anymore. I have my phone for that. Really, it’s no big deal.” He clears his throat and cuts the engine, opening the door and exiting the truck silently. That must be his answer.

I’m still gonna.

As I gather my things, the passenger door opens, and, since I had been leaning my butt against it, I go tumbling down toward the ground with a shriek.

I prepare myself for the sharp impact of the gravel underneath my body, but instead, I feel hands come under my back, and, disoriented, I look up. Zyglavis is looking down at me soberly. “I suppose I should have expected that,” He says, and then cracks a dry smile.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, pulling my feet from the truck and placing them under myself. Zyglavis helps straighten me out, and I quickly gather my things.

 Wednesday, December 25, Christmas Day.

I wake up in the mansion to my phone playing my alarm. Lorraine would be coming into my bedroom at home in five minutes to wake me up, seven on the dot, like she has every Christmas since I was five. Zyglavis and I cross through the parlor to my closet and I tuck myself in my bed, the covers cold from not being used.

A minute later, Lorraine opens my door and gently shakes my shoulder. “Morning, hun. Merry Christmas.” I turn, and, pretending to be half-asleep, smile at her.

“Merry Christmas, Lorraine,” I say.

“Everyone’s already downstairs. Zyglavis is even dressed!” She sounds shocked, and if Zyglavis was actually a teenage boy, her shock would be warranted. Trying to get most eighteen-year-old boys out of bed is like pulling teeth, no matter what the occasion is.

I roll out of bed.

Downstairs the smell of cinnamon rolls and bacon is wafting around, the scent of many Christmases passed. Lorraine goes about making mimosas—I started being allowed to drink that on special occasions when I was fifteen—and David separates the presents into piles for all of us.

Zyglavis had insisted on not getting anything from me or my aunt and uncle, but like we listened. Trying to go off of what I learned from him myself, and asking Dui and Ichthys, we’ve managed a small pile of gifts for him. When he sees that they’re marked for him, he frowns, a look of guilt taking over his face.

“You really didn’t have to…” He trails off when Lorraine gently pats his head, handing him a plate and a glass.

“Do you think we’d listen?” She asks playfully. “It’s Christmas. It’s the season for giving.”

We turn on A Christmas Story and eat our breakfasts, slowly opening our presents as we do so.

I got a new pair of headphones, an iTunes gift card—twenty-five dollars, score!—a couple pairs of new pajamas, a few shirts, a new case for my phone that came with a temper glass screen cover, socks—yet another score—and a new pair of shoes.

After opening my presents, I look over to Zyglavis, who is looking apprehensively at his presents, not touching them.

“Come on, Zyglavis, don’t be shy. Open them!” Lorraine says enthusiastically.

“Yeah, come on, boy, don’t leave us in suspense.” David adds happily from trying on his new pair of bear claw slippers. He smiles awkwardly and, pressured, begins to slowly open his gifts.

He gets a book on law—I figured since he’s the god of Libra, and Libra is justice, he’d appreciate it—a one hundred pack of hair ties because I heard him say the one in his hair is his last one, two shirts, and that iPod he said not to give to him along with a new pair of headphones.

Once he’s opened his gifts, he smiles sheepishly. “Thank you very much. You didn’t have to do any of this, though.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Lorraine says, flipping her hand. “We want you to feel like you’re a part of our family while you’re here.”

I watch the exchange between Zyglavis and my family with a small smile. It’s kind of cute to see how awkward he is when confronted with their generosity, like he expects all humans are selfish creatures. I like showing him that’s not the case.

[wordsablaze]

#13: Waves and Worries

Match of Magic What if destiny chose soulmates through literal aesthetic matches? What if education fused with impossibility and reality faded away? Dan and Phil must unite, work together and help each other live the best of all the worlds they can…

(Phil POV)

It’s like my brain decided to move my arm before I could overthink it and chicken out.

Of course I’d watched him walk down the bus aisle and through the doors but I also grin at him through the window, waving with my fingers splayed as the bus starts moving. He gives me an adorable smile back, his dimples making a reappearance as he becomes smaller and smaller until he’s literally too small for me to make out, even with my glasses.

I turn back round when I can’t see Dan anymore, his sweetly effervescent wave still fresh in my mind. Placing my bag on the seat next to me, I put in earphones, sighing as I watch the streetlights blur past through the condensated window. My stop takes a while because there’s traffic lights clumped together in the area where I live.

Not that everyone uses them. It’s as if the regulators don’t care either, leaving us to do what we want. The bus driver seems to care today so we have to tediously stop at each and every one along the route.

I don’t mind but some people feel the need to express their irritation through non-stop cathartic swearing.

I place my forehead on the window, the cool glass calming despite the occasional pothole that sends jolts running through the bus and subsequently through my head as well. I’ve finished the whole band album I was listening to by the time my stop comes so I quickly wrap up my earphones and slip my phone inside my pocket, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as I make my way off the bus.

Ken, who happens to still be on the bus for some reason, sticks his foot out and I’m not fast enough to step over it so I stumble, my hands reaching out to grab something.

I hold onto the seat nearest to me as I regain my equilibrium and Ken laughs, folding his arms cockily.

The driver, Alan, smiles sympathetically, tipping his hat as I climb off, the only one at this stop.

My walk back is mercifully uneventful, the regular gang that hangs out here missing from the scene, and I end up reaching home without having to avoid any particular streets like I usually make a habit of doing. Almost dropping the key twice as I unlock the door, I push it open and see Mark fiddling with the power outlet behind the kettle.

“Hey Mark.” I grin as I enter, dumping my shoes inside the cupboard. Well, neatly placing them. I quickly skip up the stairs and throw my bag in to my room upstairs before rushing back down, where Mark frowns at me.

“You’re not immediately videoing something or doing homework? What happened? Something in school?”

“I got it. You’re matched, aren’t you?” Jack asks, playfully whacking Mark on the head.

Before I can confirm it, Dylan and Henry do, both of them lifting me up with huge smiles. I don’t know how they’re all here today but I don’t let myself think about it too much, laughing as I’m lifted in the air. Once we’ve settled back down on the battered couch with cereal as an amazing substitute for popcorn, Dylan turns to me, “Thanks for making my trip back even more cheerful, dude. I mean, come on, how fated is this?”

“Very.” Jack and Mark chime, high-fiving. They’ve recently fallen back into the phase of having uncanny unison whenever they say something, which is equally impressive and creepy.

“You’re both a disaster to adult-kind.” Henry sighs at them, shaking his head before turning to me, “Congrats, man.”

Jack eyes me suspiciously, sensing my growing agitation and smiling, “Dude, what’s wrong?”

“He lives on…that half.” I blurt, biting my lip. I was expecting wary glances and dispiriting explanations of why I can’t see him but I receive the polar opposite reactions.

Dylan actually sighs happily, “That’s such a relief man. I was worried you’d be matched to someone violent or something.”

I laugh, easing up and my worry disappearing as they all admit that’s a good thing and the exact opposite of a problem. Anyway, how much longer can we all stay together?

Dylan is off doing various jobs and hobbies most of the time, Henry’s job takes him travelling and the twins aren’t long off transferring to a better university somewhere else. They’re overly eager to get away from Dad anyway, especially recently.

I sigh, not liking being the younger one when it comes down to things like this because it’s always harder to be the one that gets left behind than it is to be the one that leaves others behind.

At least I’ll always have Dan.

He’s always be my match, and I won’t live a single day without him. Ever.

Or, at least, I’ll try not to stay away from him too much. If he’s okay with that.

I’m glad that the film we vote to watch is an old one because I can’t concentrate through the majority of it, thinking of Dan’s chocolate amber eyes and curly oceanic hair, his cute dimples, his caramel voice, his darkened school uniform and his smart, knowing look.

“Phil!” Henry yells, snapping his fingers in front of me. I jump, simultaneously jolting backwards and lashing out defensively.

Henry yells as I whack his forehead by accident, then simply sighs at me, “If I hadn’t gone through this whole phase myself, you would so be a dead man.”

“Sorry, Hen.” I grin sheepishly, raising my hands as if to surrender.

“Why didn’t you take the chance to sarcastically remark something?” Dylan sighs, exasperated.

“Would be the baby brother if he did?” Jack asks, laughing, just as his phone rings. He grins,

“My match a-calls!” he announces and bounds upstairs, shutting his room door. Mark laughs, shaking his head, “He never gets the whole we-share-a-room thing.”

“Marky, he doesn’t have to; he knows that you’ll give him space.” Dylan laughs, elbowing him.

“Yeah, space right beside a nebula.” I mumble.

Henry claps my shoulder, “That’s the spirit, bro!”

Dylan’s phone goes off with the Ninjago theme tune and I laugh, not having known he’d changed it from the SpongeBob one we’d made him set it as last time.

He sighs, “I lost one of my bets to Mark so I had to pick another theme tune from the ringtone jar.”

I smile, remembering when we first made that: when Dylan got his own phone.

He was eleven so I was only three years old and didn’t really understand it until much later. We’d just found a jar from a disregarded crafts project and decided to place theme tunes from all our favourite shows inside it – obviously adding to it every time we found a new show- and officially making it The Forfeit Jar.

Whoever owned a phone and lost a prize-less bet to anyone else would have to pick out a new ringtone as a punishment, or if they didn’t want to do whatever they were dared to attempt.

My ringtone is currently The X-files, Jack’s is Attack on Titan, Mark’s is Gravity Falls and Henry’s is Noddy.

We never really removed all the more ancient ones so having one of them as our ringtone often gets us bizarre and suspicious looks when we’re out in public. Which is why all the phones in our house are mostly on silent, aside from Dad and Matthew of course, but we don’t care about that.

Matthew never took part, but he did once break our jar without warning us so, of course, I accidentally stepped on shattered glass shards and my feet bled all over the floor. Since then, we’ve added padding around the jar to prevent it being smashed again and I still have little silvery scars ghosting the bottom of my feet.

“Food!” Dad calls loudly, “No gadgets!”

We exchange a look, dispersing and assembling in the spare room, flopping down on the sofa with our pasta plates and forks since none of us could afford and now no longer wish for an actual dining table. Dad does halfheartedly ask me about my match, which he purportedly sense but I’m certain one of the others kindly prompted him to ask me like they usually do to get Dad talking, and I can’t help my mind wondering.

Why is Dad so distant anyway? Maybe he just doesn’t like me that much or maybe it’s because I’m not living up to his expectations. What does he expect of me anyway? I don’t know how to change myself. I hope Dan doesn’t have a problem with me; I’m sure he won’t…

Dan is the best.

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