#she can eat the grass from the new rain and we will chase each other in the front field

[chewablepebbles]

Watching Nope as a born and bred horse trainer was SOOO something. So somethings. I think I shall give Star Darlin' a day off tomorrow and just have fun with her.

[sdv-mostly-shane]

Hello! January is birthday month for my children, and now that we got the last one down, time to get right back in ~ In the spirit of parenthood, here’s some Stardew Parent Headcannons of all the marriage candidates -

Stardew Valley Imagines : Parent Headcannons

Bachelors

Alex

The kind of dad to be at every appointment/interview/inspection and cry at every point of progress “we’re one step closer to our beautiful baby”

Will absolutely cry once he holds that baby, and will have a hard time letting them go to his partner

Baby wearing extraordinaire- has multiple options for different occasions

Matching track suits to hide the fact that they were both a hot mess that morning trying to get out the door, but they did it, so time to celebrate

Would ironically have a brainiac child that he is absolutely enamoured with and admires - he sits at their little table, spilling out of the tiny chair, but refuses to budge because his baby is telling him about the water cycle of the Earth, and he doesn’t want to miss a thing

Elliot

A very ‘hands off’ parent - will observe them at play and not pressure them in any particular way

Probably a Waldorf dad

Sits his babies in his lap every night to read- they are the first ones he tests out a new limerick on, and respects their criticisms as much as their praise

Lots of evening walks down the sea shore and the forest edge.

Out of the bachelors, I think would be the most sensitive/attune to them, and would be great at breaking down their complex emotions and thoughts, and would especially be so with any neurodivergent children.

Harvey

The type to plop down a stack of parenting and pediatric books on the dining room table as soon as you two have decided to welcome children into your lives

Is the one to show the farmer how to change a diaper

In fact, just count Harvey as the one to be the party planning, baby book filling, milestone documenting professional. He’s got it covered.

Loves the newborn stage, is terrified of toddlerhood, but then back in control once they’re like 6. And then terrified again once they are teenagers (his kids actually consider him a friend as well as a father and actually enjoy hanging out with him (sometimes))

100% a helicopter parent, but more so the ‘I love you so much I don’t want you to ever experience any pain’ type of way

Sam

Probably has an accidental love child at one point

You can find him in bed with the baby, singing songs together, while he spikes the baby’s hair nice and tall

Do you honestly think this young man would not use every dad joke ever known? Because he would- and he would find them all absolutely hilarious

The fun dad that will also actively try to embarrass his kids in front of their friends

Keeps his kids home for “sick days” to sit on the couch together, no pants, no homework, and all laughter.

Sebastian

Would be stressed when they are newborns, but relax as they get older. By the time they’re teens, he would have cultivated a very trust and respect-based relationship with them where his kids are comfortable telling him anything

You’ll find him quietly at every event, game, recital, competition, imaginable. Supporting his children with his presence and then taking them out that evening to do something fun, crazy, or maybe even a little dangerous

His most fond parenting moments are when the baby is in their bouncer right besides him, happily babbling away and smiling at him, while he does his work at the computer. Quality time is his baby love language.

The type of dad to patiently and honestly answer his children’s millions of questions about anything and everything.

Will absolutely take them out to splash in the puddles when it rains (but then will also send them straight to the bath)

Shane

Is already pretty experienced in the parenting realm, but is thrown into a whole new adventure with the newborn phase. Finds himself to truly LOVE babies and toddlers

“Hm, can’t sleep? Let’s go get a snack.” “But dad, it’s 1AM” “I do this all the time, don’t worry. Just don’t tell [parent]”

Would let his kids roam free, but only if he is supervising, and is actually kinda strict/short. Absolutely fears losing his children and will do anything and everything to make sure they grow up safe and cared for.

A very stressed daddy but only because he loves his children so much that he would die if anything happened to them

The best cuddler out of all the bachelor parents. Wanna soft spot to curl up on the couch? He’s already passed out with his head back, snoring. His nice pudgy ‘dad’ belly makes the perfect pillow to rest baby heads on while he reads a book.

Bachelorettes

Abigail

The fun parent.

The kind that wakes up early on a Saturday with their kids, just as excited as they are, to eat sugar cereal and watch a show together.

Is always down to play (especially play fight). Will (endearingly) spook their partner a bit when they rough house because Abby has that wild feral look in her eye too often

The competitive parent that gets just a liiiitle too involved in whatever sport/organization/fair/et.al that the child is partaking in-all in good fun, of course.

I can picture her taking her child out to the forest, late at night, to lay on the soft moss. She’d tell them about monsters, lore, crystals, and everything supernatural and mystic. Whispering in the dark as they point up to the stars and laugh and laugh and laugh

Emily

Hippy granola mom to a T - have you seen her “organic quinoa and fresh goat milk” quote? She’d do anything to provide the best that nature has to offer her children

While her disposition toward her children is incredibly loving and free-spirited, she would probably be very resposible and stressed about doing right for her children

Would absolutely take her children by the hand, in various states of dress (jammies? Okay. Just a diaper? Alright. Ballgown? Let’s go), out to the forest with handmade woven baskets to collect all the gifts from the Earth that they can find

Absolutely the Craft Mom - she’d be all about enrichment, sensory play, and fostering a creative spirit

Tells the best stories. After bedtime routine, will sit with her children in thrir bed, and will tell stories of magic, of love, and of adventure. Her kids, eyes bright, won’t want the night to end, because mom is showing us how much wonder and mystery is in the world

Haley

So gentle and so sweet with her kids, but can send them running with just a ‘look’

Would be a nervous wreck the first go round, but an absolute master by the time the second comes around

Helicopter parent that obsesses over every milestone, growth, and accomplishment of their child. SO proud of them and can’t wait to praise them and brag about them.

The wonder parent that can do it all while looking absolutely breathtaking. She makes it look easy once she gets the hang of it

Can’t you just picture her and her baby girl in matching flowy Daisy sundresses dresses with pink ribbons in their beautiful blonde curls, chasing after each other barefoot in the fields, while the golden grass dances in the wind- gah I love this pretty pretty princess so much.

Leah

Cool Wine mom that drives a Subaru

Would absolutely read her child to bed every night, until they fell asleep.

Her transition into motherhood was flawless. She’s a natural parent who just loves in abundance

Soooo many nature walks, hikes, and camping trips. Always accompanied with a picnic basket, quiet peacefulness, and heart to hearts about whatever is going on in their life.

The definition of free-range parenting, encouraging self discovery and independence. Yeah, she’ll always step in when needed with some kind encouragement or advice, but would much rather watch her children learn about the world on their own terms

Maru

The do-it-all parent. Signs up for activities, projects, school boards, committees, and teams. Is actually on time, prepared, and succeeds in all of these.

The most prepared and responsible out of any of the parents. Always has snacks in her diaper bag and a first aid kit

Did someone say routine/chore chart

Would show love for her children through learning and new experiences-the best part about being a parent for her is watching her child’s brain turning and working as they think about the environment in front of them. At her best, her kids think she is incredibly fun and they have a blast doing anything and everything with her

Not exactly tender/overly affectionate with her kids, but absolutely concerned about being the best mom she can be by having balance of learning, play, discipline, and love.

Penny

Literally just Miss Honey from Matilda

Pinterest mom. All the crafts, DIYs, bento boxes with cute little caterpillar grapes-you name it, she’s already done it AND packed your backpack and laid your clothes out for you.

Can be heard saying “well the pediatrician said...” “hm well that’s not what dr alberts book said to do” among other “first time mom”things

Can be incredibly anxious worrying about their child’s development and well being. She’s been around kids her entire life, but this is HER child? This one doesn’t go home at the end of the day? Everything has to be absolutely perfect

The most sentimental-would absolutely weep going through the baby box to pull out the teeny tiny booties and smelling the baby blanket - “they were just SO TINY- we need another one NOW.”

[saladejin]

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’ 

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me) 

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :) 

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories. 

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.  

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.” 

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed. 

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

  ~ three months later ~

 “That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.  

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

~

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

~

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

~

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

~

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

~

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?  

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

 ~

~

 Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home. 

.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵  

TO BE CONTINUED

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[wickedw3asleys]

MINEFIELDS - Pt.1

George Weasley x Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of death, trauma, mental instability, depression, ptsd... emotional scenes, basically almost angst but not too much...

AN: hello everyone! so i finally got the time to finish writing the first part of my second serie! (i know i haven't finished my Just Like Heaven one but i have adhd bare with me) and i'm pretty excited about this one since it's not going to be a specific genre like fluff or smut, it'll just be a mini fic, so i hope you'll like it!!🥰

☆:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::☆

The Battle of Hogwarts and Fred's premature death was a huge heartbreak for everybody. The ones you once were close to in school were now almost strangers to you. It was sad, pretty sad actually, but none of you got out the same from Hogwarts, and for you, you were still living the trauma and pain of fighting for your life and seeing your friends die, even 4 years later; never being able to fully heal.

You thought that forcing yourself to move on the second you got out of Scotland would help you, but in vain. It was hard for you to completely move on, and the only one that kept you company was Dean, your old Gryffindor friend, who happen to be now your long term boyfriend. He was the only one that was still there after all; not even Harry, Ron, Ginny or Neville bothered in keeping in touch... The only one that sent you a letter from time to time was Hermione. You found yourself writing to her as a sort of therapy, even though you did it once every three or four months. But she was there, somehow...

You learned from her the first year that her and Ron got in a relationship, finally after all these years of being chasing each other; Harry and Ginny were still together; even Luna was now in a happy and healthy relationship, but she couldn't keep you updated about the others.

The part that broke your heart the most was when she first mentioned Molly and Arthur in her letters; after the loss of their son they weren't the same, of course they were still the Weasleys you all once knew, but they were "empty", as Hermione described. Molly, still to this day, would put an extra plate at the family table, expecting to see Fred join them for dinner; and Arthur would spend more and more time in his office, trying to get his mind distracted.

And then George... For the first year he refused to look at himself in the mirror. He wouldn't sleep or eat properly. The day Fred died, a part of him died too, not as twins, but as individual too, and everybody saw it.

When Hermione told you about the hell George had had to go through during these 4 years, you couldn't help but hate yourself deeply for not being next to him and helping him going through that.

"Sometimes I find myself talking to Ronald and Ginny about him, we are all very concerned about him and his health, still to this day... After all, he did not only lost his twin that day... He also lost you..."

Fred, George and you were always together in your school days, since your first day at Hogwarts, even though they were a year older than you. You were always there for them and they were always there for you, always you three, through heaven and hell. You couldn't agree more with Hermione's words, and you hated yourself for that. You had been selfish, not being able to stand by George's side and not giving him any sign of life. At the time, you thought that it would be better for both of you to just disappear, but after all these years, you were completely regretting that decision.

"Sweetheart... Hermione wrote...", Dean says, entering your bedroom, handing you a folder piece of paper, "Are you okay?"

You were once again lost in your thoughts, always the same ones, but Dean always knew how to help you come back to reality. You appreciated that of him, never showing and ounce of pressure or frustration towards you, and you loved him. But you weren't sure if that was truly love or if you were just thankful for him being there... And it was a thought that was slowly killing you inside.

"Huh?", you shook your head, chasing all these intrusive thoughts from it, "Yeah, I'm okay... Let's see what she has to tell me today..."

Dean warmly smiled at you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, "Okay, tell me if you need anything, alright?"

You nodded and opened the paper the moment he left the room.

"My dearest Y/N,

I hope you are doing well. Everything is great here, we are all doing good. Nothing much has changed, except for Harry and Ginny speaking of engagement... I was supposed to keep it secret because it is not entirely confirmed yet but I couldn't help myself from getting excited over it! A good new like this one is what we all need right now...

That is why I am writing to you, I was thinking about making a reunion... A family reunion... After all these years I think it is finally time to get together and talk around a good dinner... As we used to do... I think it would be great for everyone and Molly is already so excited to have you back home, she misses you so much, Y/N... We all mis you...

I hope I get your response soon...

Your dear friend,

Hermione."

You put the letter on your desk and sighed deeply. You knew one day you would have to go back to the Burrow and see everybody again, and you wanted too. You wanted to feel like home again, feel everybody's love and affection again. You truly had missed all that, but after second thoughts, you weren't sure it was a good idea...

Hermione said everybody was missing you, but was that true? Did they all want to see you? Or do they actually still hate you for leaving? You didn't want to face Ginny's, Harry's or Molly's gaze when you get there, you would be too ashamed of it...

"I think you should go...", Dean says after you explained the letter to him, "It's been 4 years, Y/N... You need to see them as much as they need to see you..."

"I know... But what if they hate me...", you say with a small voice.

"They don't hate you", your boyfriends take your hands in his, "I'm sure they've missed you. You practically lived there when we were in school... And you were always with Fred and George..."

The mention of Fred's name made your whole body shiver. It has been a long time since you've heard his name falling out of someone's mouth, and you could feel your heart drop at the sound of it.

"I miss them... So much...", you start tearing.

"I know, sweetheart, I know...", Dean pulls you in a tight hug, never letting you down and holding onto you for dear life.

"You really think I should go?", you ask a few minutes later.

"I do... I don't like the idea of leaving you alone but I think it would be better if you went by yourself... Next time I'll go with you"

"Are you sure?"

"Completely...", he smiled.

The days that followed Hermione's letter, you had sent your positive response to her and started packing your things for the few days you were going to spend at the Burrow. Hermione had told you that the only one aware of your visit was Molly of course, but it would be a total surprise for the rest, that information only making you more nervous.

The D-day came up more quick than you've had thought, but there you were, now standing in the middle of your living room, saying your goodbyes to Dean, surrounded by your bags.

"Good luck... Everything is going to be okay...", he says, leaving the last small peck on your lips.

You warmly smiled to him and in a second, you apparated on the field in front of the Burrow.

You could feel your eyes already water at the sight of it. It was like nothing had changed, and even after all the thing that house had been through, it looked the same as it did the first time you stayed there.

The smell of rain and wet grass filling your nostrils and the sound of the wind and early birds only made you more nostalgic. Damn you had missed this place. It was home, you were home.

After a moment trying to compose yourself, you took your bags and went straight to the building.

When you got to the front door, you realized that you didn't know what to do; should you knock? Should you just enter the house? Thinking that the second option would be the less appropriate, you decided to just knock, already nervous about who you'd get opening the door.

You waited a few seconds before hearing an echo of someone running though the house, followed by voices and sounds of plates.

"Harry, dear, can you please-

"Hello, Molly...", you smiled to the woman in front of you, "it's been a while..."

She was in complete shock. Her mouth completely open and strangely looking like she was about to pass out.

"Oh Merlin...", she breathes out, "Y/N... It's really you..."

You could see tears starting to form in her eyes, and you felt too weak to stop yours from falling. She opened her arms to you and you didn't hesitate to hug her, instantly starting to sob.

"Let me look at you... Oh my Lord...", she took your face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs on your cheeks, collecting your tears, "You're a grown woman now... I can't believe it... Arthur! Arthur, come here!"

She embraced you again in the warmest motherly hug you've ever received, which only made you sob more.

"What's wrong, mom?", Ron arrived at the door, followed by his sister, Hermione and Arthur, "Who's-

You slowly lift up you head from Molly's shoulder and faced everyone.

"Y/N... You came...", Hermione says, shocked.

"Of course I came..."

Everybody was speechless, not knowing if you were actually real or just a pure product of their imagination. Ginny instantly got towards you, embracing you as warmly as her mother.

"Merlin... How are you?", she asks.

"I'm fine... I'm sorry... I-

"You have nothing to be sorry for, darling...", Mr. Weasley was now the one to hug you.

When he let you go, you looked at the other three people; you couldn't really describe the looks on Harry and Ron's faces, they were visibly shocked, but you couldn't see if they were happy or mad to see you...

"Ronald...", you started to make your way towards him, but quickly, he took a few steps back, "I need to go...", he says, before leaving the room.

You knew it was a fair reaction, he had all the rights to hate you and be upset.

"I'm so sorry...", you sob, "I'm so so sorry..."

Harry put his hand on your shoulder and also embraced you in a warm hug.

You didn't expect the reunion to be this full of emotions, and it wasn't even breakfast's time yet...

Hermione and Ginny helped you with your bags, leading you to Charlie's empty room, the one you always used to stay in whenever you stayed with the Weasleys.

"It hasn't changed a bit...", you say, admiring the house as it was the first time you saw it.

The two girls entered the room and sat on the bed with you, only to stay there in silence hugging you for a moment. As you couldn't believe to actually be there, they couldn't believe it either.

You made a brief resume of what had happened in your life during these 4 years; why you had left, where you were living now, your life with Dean...

"Dean?", Ginny smiled, "Wow... I wasn't expecting that one..."

"Yeah... I hope it's okay though...", you say, embarrassed.

"Don't worry, it's completely fine... Besides...", she stops to lift her hand and wiggle her ring finger, now occupied with a big gemstone.

"Godric! You're joking!", you take her hand, "I mean... Hermione told me about something like this in the letter, but I didn't know it was confirmed!"

"Hermione!", Ginny scolds her.

"Sorry! You know I'm very bad at keeping secrets! I was so excited for you!"

The three of you kept laughing and talking about everything, making you forget about the moment you had been apprehending for the past few days: your first meeting with George.

"Breakfast's ready!", you hear Molly's voice echo through the house, making memories come back to you.

You slowly made your way down the stairs with the girls and when you got to the kitchen, you felt you whole body freeze.

You were feeling like you were about to pass out, but at the same time, you couldn't find yourself making any type of move, you weren't sure if you were still breathing. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulder when you saw the man you had shared so many moments with, and when he turned to face you, you saw his brother.

His body immediately copied yours, not being able to move or say anything, and for a good minute, George and you stood still, staring at each other; and as if you had read each other's mind at the same time, you ran towards each other and crashed in your arms, sobbing like babies. You felt his legs start to lose strength, and you not being able to help him stand, you both let your bodies fall to the ground, still hugging and holding on each other for dear life.

Neither of you had said anything yet, you were both too busy shaking and sobbing to say anything anyways.

The other people in the kitchen didn't say anything either, they just stood there, looking at George and you, knowing that it would be better to not interrupt you and just leave you let your emotions out.

George was obviously was more affected than you were, and you could feel his body tremble with every breath he tried to take.

"I m-missed you... so much...", he managed to say between sobs.

"I missed you too, Georgie...", you keep crying with him.

"W-why... did you... left me..."

"I know... I know... I shouldn't have... I'm so sorry...", you sobbed harder. How could you have done that to him? How could you have left him alone? After everything...

"I'm so sorry, Georgie... So sorry... I missed you so much..."

"Please, tell me you're staying...", he looked at you in the eyes. You could feel his sincerity emane from his body, and you knew he needed you. He needed you as much as you needed him.

"I am staying...", you managed to smile between your tears. George hugged you even tighter than before, crushing your body with his but you didn't care. You'd let him break your whole body if he needed to.

"Georgie... Honey...", you felt Molly's soft presence helping you get up and guiding the both of you to the table. When you sat down, you see that everybody was deeply affected by the scene that just happened; Molly still having tears running down her cheeks and Hermione and Ginny holding onto each other. Even Harry and Ron were on the verge of crying.

You sat down on your chair, George's eyes still on you and your hand in his.

"George, darling..."

You quickly turned your head to the voice behind you.

"Angie...", George got up, almost stumbling on his own feet.

"What is she doing here?", she asks, earning confused looks from everybody.

By the look she had on her face, you knew she wasn't happy to see you. She looked at you with disgust and anger, which was completely fair...

"How dare you?! You filthy little-

"Angie, it's okay... Please, calm down..."

"Calm down?! Look at you! Only her can make you feel that way again!"

"Angelina... I promise I came here to start things over... And do things correctly this time...", you say, tears forming again in your eyes.

"You have NO RIGHTS to be here! After all the damage you caused this family! NO RIGHTS!", she yelled, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

You looked at the people around the table, no one saying anything. Not even Molly was able to form coherent words, she was just there, heavily breathing.

"I'm going to go...", you slowly stand up from your seat, not wanting to make everyone more upset than they already were, "Angelina, I'm sorry..."

She glanced at you in anger, "you shouldn't be here", she spat.

"Y/N, don't leave, please...", George pleaded, eyes red and swollen.

"I'm just going out, I'll be okay, don't worry...", you caressed his arm trying to comfort him, and you could feel Angelina tensing her body at that action, eyes full of fire.

"I'm sorry...", you say before closing the door behind you.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[against all odds, your hand is in mine] [1/4]

Seasons change, and with each comes a different story. In a world where the dead roam around, romantic companionship seems unlikely. Yet Ericson stands, and within it are four couples who are proof that it's possible.

Spring: Briolet | flowers, picnics, blueberries, running river

Read on AO3

Notes: Sometimes I get the urge to write four oneshots over the course of two days. This is the first of those oneshots. It’s briolet in spring, but be careful: there is so much hand holding and some smooches. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

[screenshot used is from the lovely @pi-creates]

---

Brody pricks her finger again. It's easy to avoid that, but she doesn't have a thimble, and her hands refuse to stop trembling.

No blood, and really, it didn’t even hurt. It more startled her, a bit of panic sparking in her gut at the idea of staining the martial and ruining her project. She stops her work to rest her hands and the fabric in her lap, closes her eyes, and sucks in a deep breath. It does little to calm her nerves or her impatience.

“Don’t rush,” she mumbles to herself, readjusting her position on the bed. She crosses her legs and notices a long strand of thick, pale blue thread stuck to her pants. Great, she needed that color an hour ago to finish one of the flowers.

Doesn’t matter now, the floral design is complete and all she has left is to sew the pieces together. If she can finish soon, there’ll be more than enough time to clean up, gather the basket she made up the night before, and head down to the greenhouse. Violet should still be there.

Brody smiles, setting down her needle and holding the handmade eyepatch in her hands. She rubs a thumb over one of the little white flowers. She embroidered them just this morning, a final touch to the overall design. That feeling strikes her gut again, exciting her nerves.

The idea came to her one night after Violet found her in the common room. It was late at night, and the two shared a blanket on the couch and drank tea. Violet's ruined eye was covered with bandages despite being healed over. No one was able to find her an actual eye patch. The best they found was a plastic one used for a children’s pirate costume, so she kept it bandaged.

Violet never complains about it. She considers the bandages her patch, even though they're not the most comfortable to wear every day.

Brody decided at that moment that she would make her one. She tore through her closet the next morning, sorting through old shirts until she found one she never wore. Taupe in color, a thicker material, something she could easily work with.

Though she had no idea how eyepatches were made, figuring those things out came easy to Brody. She made several patterns, testing each one out on scraps until one worked. From there, it was all about creating a design should could see Violet wearing. It wasn't difficult- sewing and embroidery work came easy to her.

A family thing that stuck, she assumes.

Her grams used to do embroidery and cross-stitching work. She made a living off sewing intricate designs, all more beautiful than any painting. If Brody closes her eyes, she can still see the doorway into her gram’s cabin. The framed design of a flowery cottage with a stone path, rural trees and a cloudless sky hung up on the wall. Her gram’s final masterpiece. She worked on it for months, pouring every ounce of love she had into each stitch. It was something Brody admired every time she walked through that doorway.

She learned to hunt and skin animals from her dad and uncles, and sewing from her grams. Best of both worlds, she supposes. Two skills that became handier than she would’ve ever thought at the time.

Though her flowers weren’t as flawless as her gram’s once were, she still put her heart into each stitch just as she did. She hopes that when Violet sees it, she’ll feel the unspoken words Brody threaded through the fabric.

Purple, white, and blue flowers of all sizes, each with a yellow french knot in the center, standing bright against the muted taupe. She sewed a thicker piece beneath it, used a tiny bit of stuffing from an old, ripped pillow to give it some comfortable cushion. A piece of a silky shirt lines the inside so Violet’s skin won’t get agitated while wearing it.

After weeks of work, all she has left to sew is the straps she made. She had no way to measure the fit for Violet’s head since she wanted this to be a surprise, so she figured she could make them extra long enough to tie comfortably while wearing. If she needed to adjust anything, she could do that later.

Brody picks her needle back up.

It doesn’t take long to finish, even with her forcing herself to take her time.

With triumph, Brody sticks her needle back into its rightful container and hops off her bed, singing, “Ta-daah~ !”

Her mind is all over the place. Wrap up the patch-- does she have a box or even a bag?-- and hide it at the bottom of the woven basket she found in the basement, stuff the blanket in as much as she can so the two cups don’t clank together, and start boiling water for tea-- where the hell did she put the jar of blueberries?

She flicks a match to light the heater she borrowed from Clementine, letting the water come to a slow boil as she searches around for the mason jar. It’s right under her nose, of course, sitting in plain sight on her shelf.

With the greenhouse running smoothly and the trading they’ve done with the traveling caravan that comes around, they're able to plant seeds for several different fruits and vegetables. This week, they finally got their first bunch of blueberries in. She managed to pick a bunch and seal them away in a jar yesterday without Violet noticing. She thought they’d make for a refreshing picnic snack to pair with tea.

Brody’s been planning this picnic for a while now, all while she was working and spring came to chase the cold away. Her favorite time of year where it’s finally warm, but cool enough to not overheat everything. Grass grows greener, flowers bloom all over the place, the river flows, and the sun shines bright in the sky most days. Other days, like yesterday, it rains. She was worried it would rain today as well, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky today.

She lets the tea steep in a large mug and squeezes what she can from an old container of mostly crystallized honey. When it’s cooled down enough, she pours it slow and steady into an empty water bottle. Sure, they can’t have iced tea given they have no way to actually make ice once winter ends, but lukewarm tea would be just as good.

Basket in hand, Brody looks out her window one last time before leaving the dorms. With every step she takes, she grows closer to the greenhouse and her heart thumps gaily against her ribs.

Outside, everyone is out and about, enjoying the warm weather. AJ and Tenn color together at the table while Mitch works on sharpening his favorite knife. Willy sulks on the couch beside him with Ruby attending to his bleeding knee. She's going on about him needing to be more careful.

Clementine and Louis sit on the steps leading into the admin building. She sits a step lower, leaning back into his chest as the two talk. Brody waves at them as she passes, and Louis gives her a knowing grin when he eyes the basket.

It’s not a long walk to the greenhouse from there. She stops when she notices the wildflowers growing by the fence of the rabbit coop. Bees buzz around the white flowers, landing in their yellow centers. She hates to disturb them, but these flowers were part of her inspiration when designing Violet’s eyepatch. They're too perfect not to pick. She shoos away a fat bumblebee with pollen sticking to its little black legs, and gathers eight of the flowers, leaving plenty for the rest.

A simple bouquet, if she could even call it that, but it works.

Once inside, the fresh scent of wet soil and leafy greens hits her. Not as refreshing as the sweet air outside, but still, it fills her lungs with warmth. Or perhaps that sensation is from seeing Violet standing beside Omar, watering what Brody believes are the potatoes.

Most of her hair pulls back into a hair tie, apart from the bangs that fall over her forehead and bandages. She hasn’t had a haircut in a while, letting it grow long enough past her shoulders. A surprise, actually. Violet hasn’t had long hair since they were kids.

Not that Brody was complaining- she likes it very much.

Violet breaks her attention from the potatoes to meet her gaze. She grins, and yes, that warmth is definitely from her. Omar continues on about some sort of new stew he wants to try making, only stopping when he notices he’s lost Violet’s attention.

“Everything doin’ okay in here?” Brody asks.

Violet gives a shrug. She sticks her hand out to run along the wooden planter to steady herself. She meets Brody halfway, replying with, “Eh, nothing too exciting. Willy biffed it while watering the rabbits this morning, but other than that...”

“He about crushed one of the babies,” Omar adds with a shake of his head. “More upset about that than he was about his skinned knee.”

“Aw, poor little guy,” Brody laughs. “That why he looked so miserable when I passed him?”

“Probably. He tried to catch it to apologize, but it was too quick even for him, and Ruby didn’t want him getting a bunch of muck all over him with an open wound, so…”

Apologizing to a baby bunny that they’re eventually going to eat? Sounds like Willy, Brody thinks. But never mind that, she has more important things than rabbits.

She reaches out to grab Violet’s free hand, her lips involuntarily curling into a bright smile as she asks, “Are you almost finished ?”

“Yeah,” Violet says, raising a questioning brow. “Why?”

“We’re going on a picnic!”

Violet pauses, only now noticing the basket in Brody’s grasp.

“We are?”

“We are!”

“That’s news to me.”

Brody lets go of her hand to present her with the flowers. Violet stares at them for a moment as her skin flushes, starting at her neck and blooming along her cheeks. If Omar weren’t standing over there, Brody would lean over and kiss that lovely blush.

“And where exactly would we have a picnic?”

“By the river. Already got a spot in mind.”

Violet holds the flowers close to her chest and clears her throat. She glances back at Omar, and says, “Uh, I don’t-”

“Go ahead,” he interrupts with a wave of his hand. “I can take care of the rest. Go have your picnic, be careful. And Brody,” he points to her, putting on a stern voice, “have her home by eight, and don’t have too much fun.”

Brody laughs.

“Yes, sir!”

Violet shakes her head, but her smile betrays her amusement.

“Well, okay, I guess we’re going on a picnic. There better be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in there... that's what people eat on picnics, right?”

“Yeah, but no. Close, though.”

Locking their hands together once more, Brody leads Violet out of the greenhouse and through the gates. Soon, they’re outside the walls of Ericson. Heading down the path, she makes sure to keep watch out for any obstacles to warn Violet about.

Brody knows that Violet’s other eye works perfectly well, but given that her depth perception isn’t what it used to be, she can’t help but be extra careful. She used that excuse to hold Violet’s hand before they were together, both still recovering from their respective injuries. Better safe than sorry, use the buddy system, and that system requires hand-holding. Brody didn’t make the rules.

“Never been on a picnic before,” Violet breaks the silence.

“No? Not even before?”

“No.”

“We used to go out on picnics to eat and play games all the time. Me, my grandma, my daddy and uncles, cousins- if it was warm out, we were out.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Most times it was,” Brody says, giving Violet’s hand a squeeze. “ Just because those days are gone doesn’t mean we can’t do that kinda stuff now, y’know?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Though there are more walkers around than there were back then.”

“True, but that shouldn’t be a big issue today,” Brody smiles. “I asked James to check the area and he collected the walkers he found. The river should be clear.”

Even without looking at her, she can sense her surprise. Violet’s quiet for a moment, turning her head to peer around them before saying, “You planned this.”

It’s not a question, but more of a realization.

“I thought this was a spur of the moment thing,” Violet admits. “I, uh…”

When she doesn’t continue, Brody says, “ Not many opportunities to take you out on a date,” the word makes Violet blush and repress a smile, “and when one does arise, you bet your bottom dollar I’m gonna take it .”

Violet says nothing more, but her grip on Brody’s hand tightens.

They make it to the river without spotting a single walker. She kept her knife handy in case, but James was thorough, it seems. Brody makes a note to thank him again for helping her out.

The running water is soothing and the grass colors with golden dandelions. It’s nice to be down here without the intention of working up a sweat while fishing, she thinks. They find a flat piece of grass, kicking rocks, sticks, and pinecones out of the way to lay the blanket down. Together they sit side by side with the basket between them.

Rubbing her hands together, Brody digs in to pull everything out. Except for the eyepatch. It remains, wrapped in a pillowcase she found. Hopefully Louis won’t notice she snuck it from his horde of pillows.

“Alright, we got tea and blueberries,” Brody says, handing one mug to Violet and opening the mason jar of berries. Their sweet scent escapes into the air, making her mouth water.

“How’d you manage to sneak these past Omar?” Violet asks, popping a blueberry into her mouth. Her face twists at the taste, and for a moment Brody worries they might be sour, but Violet shakes her head. “They’re good, just not used to that.”

By now the tea is completely cooled, and while not cold, still delightful to sip on.

“Open wide,” Violet says, holding up a blueberry. It misses Brody’s mouth, bouncing off her chin. Violet laughs. “Pfft, c’mon.”

“Okay, okay, I’m ready, try again.”

Another miss.

“Aww, nope!”

“Well, let's see you try!”

Brody throws up a berry, and Violet misses it completely.

“Damn depth perception,” she grins, grabbing the berry and tossing it up herself. It hits her cheek, lost to the grass. “Damn it!”

Violet’s laugh, while rare, is as bewitching as it is infectious. It’s been so long since Brody heard her laugh like this, and to know that they’re here together, comfortable together…

Emotion builds in her throat, and she has to eat berries to suppress it. She aims the blueberry just right, and Violet catches it this time. As she chews, they both let out victorious giggles.

Once the laughter dies down, Violet brings her knees to her chest as she watches the river.

“Think we’re missing out on a fish haul?” she asks.

“Nah,” Brody pulls the basket closer to look inside, biting her lip as she runs her fingers over the covered patch. “And if we are, I’m sure the traps’ll make up for it.”

Should she do it now? They did just get here, did she want to surprise her early, or…?

Brody grabs a flower instead, bringing it up to her nose to inhale the soft scent. An idea occurs to her as she admires the girl before. Scooping up the flowers, Brody breaks off most of the stems. The flower slips in through Violet’s hair, right where the hair tie is.

Violet jerks her head around to look back, but Brody says, “Don’t move.”

“What are you-?”

She doesn’t need to answer the question, she merely secures a few more flowers within the light strands of hair before leaning back to admire her work. She even tucks one behind her own ear so they match.

Violet remains quiet, but lays her hand on Brody's. A silent, content thank you.

Brody doesn’t know how long they sat there watching the river, sipping tea, and listening to the birds chirp from the trees . A small butterfly flutters by them, and for a moment, Brody forgets the world around them. Forgets the walkers, forgets Ericson, too swept up in the way the warm air blew against her skin, in how Violet’s hand felt in hers, and the strange sense of wonder, a desire to kick off her shoes and run through the river.

It took Violet kissing the back of her hand to break her out of it.

Violet grew sheepish, glancing away as if she needed to come up with an explanation for the kiss, and that was it.

“Vi,” she started, pulling her around to face her. “I have- I made ya somethin’.”

The nervous pounding in her chest thumps in her ears as she reached back into the basket, pulling out the pillowcase.

“Aw, from Lou’s stash,” Violet grins, amused. “You shouldn’t have.”

“No, no, not the pillowcase,” Brody fidgets with it until she finds what she’s looking for. Her thumb brushes over the flowers beneath the thin material. With a deep breath, she goes for it. “Listen, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about you. Us... just everything, and- Remember that night we stayed up in the common room talkin’? I thought… well, I wanted to do this for you.”

Brody hands her the pillowcase. Not once does she take her eyes off Violet’s face, noting the curiosity and confusion playing in her features as she accepts the gift.

The eyepatch is finally brought out into the sunlight, laying in Violet’s palm.

Neither of them speaks. Violet’s lips part, eye widening.

Brody lets the air out of her lungs slow, and then the words spill from her lips before she can stop them.

“We couldn’t find you anything to wear other than that stupid costume patch, and I know you said you didn’t mind the bandages but then I got to thinkin’ ‘bout how bandages might not always be the comfiest-”

“Brody…” Violet’s voice is quiet, trembling as it breaks.

“-and I want you to be comfortable in somethin’ that you like, so I made this for you- the whole thing, hand sewed it myself. I- but y’know, if it’s maybe too much- I wasn’t sure if it might bring too much attention and you wouldn’t like that-”

She’s cut off when Violet practically throws herself at her, burying her face in the crook of Brody’s neck and holding her tight. Brody doesn’t hesitate. She embraces her back, pressing a hand to cradle her head.

“I… don’t know what to say,” Violet's voice quivers.

“You like it?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s enough.”

Violet pulls back, and without warning, her hands cup Brody’s face. She presses their lips together in a way that’s anything but gentle. It’s firm, purposeful, and loving. All tension from her body melts away, and Brody truly believes she could kiss her all day and that tingle? The one that coursed through her veins, the butterflies that fluttered in her belly? It would never go away. It wouldn't even lessen.

They break apart, and Violet’s staring down at the eyepatch in her hands.

“Holy shit. It’s… I don’t-” she tries again. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” Brody assures her, brushing the bangs that fell over her face.

“No one’s ever made me anything like this before. I mean, not a patch, just … you know.”

“Want to try it on?”

Violet nods, and Brody’s undoing the bandages with ease. Her eye's healed from the damage the raiders inflicted, leaving only angry scars. The patch is a perfect size, covering everything.

“Does it feel okay?”

“Yeah, it’s… nice. Soft.”

“Does this feel tight enough? Like it won’t fall off, but not too tight?”

“Yeah, it feels good.”

“Couldn’t figure out a good way to clasp it together, so it ties. If ya want me to change it or anything, I can make adjustments... There!”

Violet turns back around, avoiding her gaze. Brody studies her face, the way the colors of the embroidered flowers make the green in her other eye vibrant, how the taupe of the fabric flatters her.

“Beautiful.”

Violet scoffs, ducking her head to hide the flustered smile that betrays her lips. This gives Brody the perfect excuse to place a quick kiss on her forehead.

“You’re so mushy,” Violet says, embarrassed but trying to force a playful tone. “Y’know that?”

Well, to be fair, Brody could be mushier, so she replies with an over-the-top, sweet, “Only with you.”

Violet groans and they laugh once more.

They know their little picnic will wrap up soon, so together they sit close and enjoy the comfort of nature for a few minutes longer.

“Thank you, Brody… really.”

Brody responds with another kiss.

Yeah, she thinks. She could kiss Violet all day.

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #3

About seven months and I finished the first draft at 93k!

I always imagined how it would feel to finish a first draft (I’ve been writing novels “seriously” since about 2017) and now that I’ve finally done it, I can say it’s a better feeling than I imagined! Telling my friends and family (and even my doctor, who was really quite excited about it) was an amazing amazing thing. I’m generally pretty nervous to tell people about my work, but I had a really positive reaction. Honestly all of it has me on a creative high (not sure I’m coming down from that any time soon lol).

I’m going back for my last year of school in two days, which means I’m not going to have as much time as I did to write all summer. This is okay, because I’m actually going to take an entire month off of writing! I’m really burnt out - don’t want to start editing a story that’s so near to me if I don’t feel ready. I’ll talk more about editing when the time comes!

In a lot of ways, I found that my life mimicked my art. I think for a lot of people, it tends to be the other way around, but this story did a lot to heal me.

Going to hop right into excerpts now! I’m not going to explain much this far into the story because I would like to try to publish this story (FAR in the future) so I apologize for that! Also, I stopped naming most of the chapters until I go back and edit because there are just SO MANY and I didn’t have the time to stop and think of cool names. Anyways... enjoy!!

(Here is the link to the original masterpost!)

#1

text: Rays of gold curled to the ground, primordial and shy as the fire reeds on the cusps of shallow pool around the bay outside of Mothouse combed them to fine sparkles. I remembered the way Lonan kneeled on the edges of this pool. He never dove in – just blinked slowly as he watched crabs and minnows chase each other in a swirl of sand. I could not resist the water. I’d made it a part of me. My hair was longer then; down to my elbows, fading from dark red to orange and white, soaked always. Lonan let me borrow his shirts when I forgot to bring my own. They hung from my waist, too big for me, and I was warm even as the breeze rocked us inside.

#2

text: The sky was never blue in Point Blink. At least, I couldn’t remember the last time the clouds hadn’t given way to a dark gray mist. Jude was here. I was out of place. I was floating – watching slender, underfed pines wave in the breeze behind houses on the water before they disappeared underneath furls of cloud. Bursts of warm light shone in windows on the bay, like hungry eyes watching for a storm. A group of kids our age chaffed on a rocky expanse, their heads popping over pockets of darkness when they laughed. Froths of cloud stretched across the sky, moving the ground with it. Long stretches of trees and islands far on the other side of our small pocket of ocean looked more like large freight ships. Lights glittered and beamed on the roads and highways that belonged to the city. Pink was starting to show over the horizon. Lonan was on the other side. Somewhere.

#3

text: 

Jude sucked her lips in and flopped onto her stomach so she could see the blue below her feet. Her dark curls draped over her ears and hid her nose.

“I can’t see the bottom of the ocean.” She cupped her fingers with the other hand. “See where the water fades to white and back again? The endless tide. Why do people say the ocean is blue?”

I leaned forward. She was right. Blue ocean climbed up the side of the cliffs and turned the rocks a dark gray; ate the erosion as if from a plate. I’d never had the ocean explained to me that way before.

“I think I like it that way,” I said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was at the bottom of Point Blink.

#4

text: 

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. This is just guesswork. Patchwork.”

I wanted to apologize again, but I had a strong guess that it might make her annoyed with me. “It’s kind of like… I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”

She wrinkled her nose and eyebrows, scrunched up her little face. “That’s dumb.”

“I think it’s a smart way to live.” Sometimes it felt like worry was the only thing that kept me alive. It wasn’t dumb at all.

“You’re going to be fine though. We’re going to be fine. If something bad happens, we’ll deal with it. Don’t let it eat you.”

There was wisdom in what this seventeen-year-old girl on my bed had offered me. I caught it like a gold coin. Before I could reply with anything, she launched into another question. I didn’t want to think much about change anyways.

#5

text:

“Oh. Wow. That’s like, next year.” I sort of laughed.

“A year can be a long time,” Lonan said with a wince. “What do you think?”          

I sighed through my nose and leaned back with him. The sun was going down. Sometimes, my life felt less like a golden hourglass and more like a stopwatch with a broken face.

“For once, I think I agree with your mom.”

Lonan just stared at me, with something like awe.

“I think you should do what you want,” I said.

 “Ray,” Lonan started.

“No,” I interrupted him. “It’s not about me. She’s stopped you from doing anything and everything you’ve wanted to for the last four years, so when you go to college, you’ve got to separate yourself from this place.” I pointed to him. “You’re allowed to do this.”

#6

text: 

Maybe I was just being strange. Lonan was my best friend. It didn’t help that there was a little bit of him in everything – the tide pools, the echo of shells, my broken camera.

Soon, we stood in the center of the field. A breeze whispered through the cattails, fanning against our knees. Ellis loped behind me as I stepped in and out of tire tracks under the cloudless sun. She wasn’t much different than Jude. Her footsteps crunched excitedly behind mine, excited at the prospect of an unprecedented adventure. I’d missed those.

Lonan said he didn’t like to walk in fields because the wind tricked him into thinking that someone was behind him. Every brisk of his heel was a trick of the mind. Sometimes I felt the same way, like I might be haunted.

#7

text: 

The ageless water begged me closer, frizzed my hair and swathed my arms in a sweet, familiar scent. I remembered galloping down to the shore with a childhood friend in one May. Soft piano accompanied croaky lyrics from someone’s radio when we fell chest-first into the water. Static erupted in my head. There had been nothing new for me in Point Blink for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to float. Grass turned into pebbles, and I heard Ellis’ footsteps soften to the beat of the sand. Our eyes crumbled the shells that walled the long expanse of dark sand where waves rolled in. We leaned over like two swans, crunching shells beneath our feet, displaying shells to one another, naming the ones we recognized, and when I looked out at the horizon, I saw blue.

Red plastic cups, cigarettes, and even some broken glass stuck out through the sand as we made our way further down the shoreline, as if someone had thrown a party. My brow furrowed. Maybe this part of the beach wasn’t so abandoned after all.

Between the spit of the waves and dry sand lay some sort of book. Sand trickled out of the pages and onto my shoes when I swept it out of line of an oncoming wave. Ellis was beside me in moments. Shells tolled under her shoes.

#8

*Warning for mention of blood (fake blood and fake knife!!) this takes place on Halloween haha*

text: 

Jude held the container in her palm, kneeled down so we were shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes fixed on the knife in my neck, mine on her hands, then her focused expression. Her fingers tipped my chin up, cold on my skin. I tried not to move. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about Dad, or Raven, or Lonan. I only let Jude in – this girl who had come out of nowhere and wrecked me, saved me. And she didn’t know any of that. I didn’t owe anything to her, but I needed her. She kept us afloat when I couldn’t even keep myself above water. Her fingers painted blood over the center of my throat, our breath quiet on each other’s cheeks. She held my shoulder as she set back.               

“Absolutely feral,” she said.

#9

text: 

“Point Blink is all I have. It’s where I am, what I am.” My throat was tight. “It’s all I’ve known. I am happy with my life. And I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw all of that away so we can dig up answers. I want to stay.”

 Jude sat there for a moment. I think Florian and Ellis had turned to look at us, because when we went silent, I could no longer heat their hushed whispers, only the sound of water as it rose and rose and rose. I wondered if it would rain.

Jude sat up on her hands, then her knees, then she stood over me.

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Blood streaked down her cheeks. I’d been so focused on not crying, I had missed when she started to.

“Point Blink is just the same as anywhere,” she said. The words sat somewhere above her inside her chest, weak and frail, as though they’d been realized a long time ago.

I’d stared into her eyes until they disappeared. She grabbed onto a branch above her and quietly swung herself around a corner. Her footsteps echoed until they dissolved into waves and birds and frogs and left me in the dark.

#10

*Warning for strong language!*

text:

“Why didn’t you tell me how you’d been feeling?” he asked after a few moments of silence. It was beginning to stretch uncomfortably.

“I know I don’t deserve to know,” he added, “but you’ve always put me first.”

I picked at the wood that peeled from the fence.

“I just want you to be okay,” Lonan croaked. “Please tell me what to do.”

Even when we were together, we still worried about each other. It wasn’t always that way. Maybe that was my fault. I didn’t want to think about it.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I mumbled into the crisp, red air. “To be fair, I didn’t know it like I know now for a long time. I think sometimes I got the same way as a kid. Now I have a name for it, and I still don’t know if it feels right.” I sighed. “I guess… I guess I just thought that was how things were supposed to be. I thought I was only the humming low and the high.”

“Of course that’s not how you’re fucking supposed to be.”

 I coughed on a laugh, wiped away a new set of tears. On the rare occasion that Lonan did swear, he sounded much like he was doing it for the first time.

I hadn’t fully realized what I’d said before Lonan’s hand was around my arm. He pulled me close to his chest. I felt smaller than him; warm and safe. I exhaled and sunk into him, didn’t allow anything else in. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“You’re funny and smart and better than a lot of people.”

And... that wraps up all of my excerpts for the time being! I really enjoyed writing the last four chapters of this book. Of course they aren’t perfect. A lot of the book needs improvement. There are entire characters who are flat and plot lines I just forgot about! Come October, I plan to get back into my edits/rewrite the story.

Really quick before I finish writing this:

I just wanted to thank everyone who read about my story and showed genuine interest in the characters. Had I not received all of this love from people in real life and online, I might never have finished this draft at all. When I started this story, my mental health was really quite bad. (I’m doing a whole lot better these days!!) I guess you could say the idea started as more of a journal entry. All of these characters are like little parts of me coming together to help the main character, and I think there’s something really special about that.

Thank you so much! Good luck on all your creative endeavors! It pays off in the end, I promise :)

tag list (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar​ @writeherewaiting @cryptid-s-wips @kingsinking @author-a-holmes

[searchingwardrobes]

Not the Type: 5/7

The muse has awakened! I feel awful for keeping ya'll waiting so long (5 months? seriously?!) for an update on this fic. I actually decided to split this chapter up once it reached 2k because I didn't want you waiting any longer for another chapter. So, this will now be 7 chapters plus an epilogue. Much thanks to my beta @hookedonapirate​ for untangling my awkward wording and making me sound so much better! You have a way of getting what I'm trying to say and making it flow. What would I do without you? Thanks to the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ mods for being so patient and understanding when I had to put this on the back burner. And finally, thank you to my dear friend @snowbellewells​ for helping me get the muse kickstarted again on this fic. You rock!

Oh, and fun fact: The part in this chapter about Ruby’s cheer injury really happened - to me when I was a cheerleader long, long ago . . .

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian​ @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna

Chapter Five

“You’ve got to let go of me for one second,” Emma giggled, her tone and the fact that she was simultaneously wrapping her free arm tighter around Killian’s waist completely contradicting her words.

“Do as I say, not as I do, hm?”

“I’m trying to get the mail!”

“So?”

“So you’re kissing my neck.”

“Hm, so I am.”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes slightly dazed, like he was drunk on love or something. Love? Emma wriggled free of his embrace as the word penetrated her lust filled, teenage brain. They couldn’t be in love or anything like that. This wasn’t a 90's rom com or something.

Killian was unfazed by her sudden distance, his hands still finding purchase on her elbow and hip; her hair still tickling his nose and mouth. She reached into the mailbox, pulled out an unusually thick stack and started flipping through it as Killian snaked his arms around her waist from behind and propped his chin on her shoulder. Emma wasn’t surprised to see college brochures; they had begun coming with increasing regularity now that she and her brother were juniors. One white envelope with blue writing gave her pause, however. It was addressed to her, and this was no brochure. It was a very official looking letter. Emma’s hands trembled as she tore it open.

“What is it?” Killian mumbled the question, far more interested in her neck at the moment.

Emma scanned the contents of the letter, and the more the words sank in, the more she trembled. So much so that the rest of the mail went fluttering to the sidewalk. Killian was finally pulled away from his obsession with her neck and spoke his next question with deep concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah . . . I, um,” she swallowed hard as conflicting emotions swirled in her brain. “The University of Kentucky is interested in recruiting me for their cheerleading squad.”

“That’s amazing, Swan!”

“You have no idea,” Emma said softly as she sank down onto the front step of her apartment building.

Killian gathered up the rest of the mail, then came and sat next to her. “Then continue in my cheerleading education, love.”

Emma chuckled, though she was also touched by the obvious interest he held in her pursuits, even if they weren’t necessarily in line with his.

“UK has the best cheer program in the country,” Emma explained. “They’ve won an insane number of national titles, probably more than any other college. You don’t just make the squad, you get a full ride. They’re that good.”

Killian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “See? I knew you were bloody brilliant.”

Emma returned his bright smile with a shaky one of her own. “You’re so sweet.”

“You’re not excited about this?”

Emma bit her lip, staring at the letter in her hands until the words started to blur together. “I am. It’s just . . . this means they’ll be sending recruiters to our competitions. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a half-hearted smile. Her head collapsed onto his shoulder, and he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“A full ride . . . “

She let the thought fade into the air. How could she screw up an offer like this? It would help Ruth out so much, and her brother, too.

Yeah, no pressure.

*******************************************************

“Hey, Em!”

One of Ruby’s dirty socks bounced off Emma’s head and landed in her lap. With a disgusted grumble, she batted it to the floor.

“Rubes, that’s gross!”

“Well, you’re sitting there, staring into space. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly embarrassed to put that thing on in front of everybody.”

Emma looked down at the sports bra still clutched in her right hand. They all learned early on that there was no modest way to squeeze your boobs into a sports bra, so the squad basically had to get real comfortable around each other real fast. And contrary to every teen movie ever made, there was nothing sexy about it. It was just athletes being a team in the locker room.

You know, like male athletes.

“Oh God, she’s contemplating sexism in sports again,” Ariel groaned.

“She is!” crowed Ruby. “Look how she’s staring at that sports bra!”

“You mean this torture device?” Emma quipped, waving the garment in the air like a feminist about to burn something.

“She isn’t wrong,” Mary Margaret put in.

“Well, I for one am thankful for the torture device,” Jasmine piped up.

“Here we go again,” groaned Tiana.

“It’s true!” Jasmine cried out. “I don’t want the girls flopping around. It hurts!”

“While this discussion is incredibly enlightening,” a voice said dryly from the doorway, “I’d prefer we start running our competition routine, if you ladies don’t mind.”

They all mumbled apologies to Coach Ava, along with promises to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible. Emma shed her blouse and regular bra, then struggled her way into her sports bra before slipping a cheer camp t-shirt over her head. She paused before one of the cracked mirrors that hung above a row of ancient porcelain sinks that dated back to the 1950s. Being a girls’ team that didn’t really bring in any ticket sales, the cheerleading squad was relegated to practicing in the old gym. It could've been worse, however. The seniors remembered their freshman year, before the new gym was built, when the cheerleaders were forced to practice in the atrium at the front of the school. The atrium was great for painting bust-throughs, but Emma couldn’t imagine having to practice there.

As Emma tugged her hair into a messy ponytail, she thought of the letter she had shoved in the front pocket of her backpack. She'd planned on showing it to Ruby and Mary Margaret, but for some reason, she'd lost her nerve. She sighed as she made her way out of the locker room. Letter or no letter, she had to get her head on straight.

As usual, the girls started off running a mile around the gym, and just like every other practice, Emma started off keeping pace with Ruby and Mary Margaret. Her mind was still a million miles away, however.

In Kentucky, she supposed. The bluegrass state. Was the grass really blue? I mean, it couldn’t be. How can grass be blue?

“Hey,” Ruby panted, leaning over her knees when the run was over, “what’s with you?”

“What’s what?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she did a calf stretch. She was always getting charley horses in the middle of the night during competition season. Ruth kept bugging her to eat a banana every day, but she despised bananas. They were so mushy . . .

“Earth to Emma,” Mary Margaret laughed.

Ruby snapped her fingers in Emma’s face.

“What happened to the Emma we know and love?” she asked. “You know, the one who leaves us in the dust every practice, laughing her ass off the whole way?”

“It’s not my fault you two do a leisurely jog instead of a run.”

“Running is what you do when you’re being chased,” Mary Margaret countered. It was her usual argument.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lunges, girls, across the gym floor!” shouted Coach Ava, saving Emma from responding. She lined up with the rest of the squad along one side of the gym, then stepped forward with her right leg, her hands on her hips.

“Is it Killian?” Ruby hissed at her left.

“No!”

“Just drop it,” Mary Margaret snapped.

“Yeah,” Emma grunted as she lowered herself into another lunge, “it’s kinda hard to talk and do these at the same time.”

“Tiana, I wanna see a right angle on those lunges!” their coach called out. “Ruby, you might be able to keep your balance if you stop exercising your mouth!”

Emma laughed loudly as Ruby wobbled and almost went down. “Yeah, Rubes, I’d concentrate if I were you.”

And just to rub her friend’s face in it, Emma sped up her lunges, reaching the other side of the gym first.

“Excellent job,” Coach Ava praised her. “Smooth, with speed, and you didn’t lose your form.”

Ruby practically growled when Emma threw a smirk her way.

They did a few more drills, warmed up their tumbling with a few simple passes, then gathered on the mats to go through their routine. Coach Ava was still making a few simple changes, but for the most part, it was now all about committing it to muscle memory. They needed to be able to practically do the routine in their sleep by the time December rolled around. And that was only five weeks away.

The girls got into position, and the music started. They were opening with a tumbling peel off. The girls in the front did a standing back handspring, the girls in the middle a standing back tuck, and then . . .

Emma got to shine as she kept going. Out of a standing back tuck, into two back handsprings, and then finally into a full twisting double back as the music crescendoed. Usually, Emma’s adrenaline had her ending the pass with a huge smile on her face, but today she under-rotated and almost landed flat on her face. She tried to shake it off, but in the team’s first pyramid, she started to lose her balance, almost taking the rest of the team down with her. Emma chastised herself to get it together as her stunt group moved into position for their next stunt - a twist up

Their “theme” this year was hair. They whipped their ponytails a lot in the dance portion, and every song had to do with hair. In the next stunt, Emma had to pull up on her ponytail while she twisted up into an arabesque, as if she was pulling herself up by her hair.

It was a little like patting her head and rubbing her stomach at the same time, which was incredibly frustrating to Emma. The stupid hair pull was supposed to be a cool bit of choreography, not rocket science. Yet, once again, Emma seemed to get her arms, her long hair, and her legs tangled into a mass as she twisted upward. What happened next, Emma was never entirely sure. Ruby yelled, Emma felt herself tilting sideways and she panicked, making a rookie mistake - she attempted to jump down from the stunt. Her fist was still gripped in her hair, which she almost yanked out in the fall, and she kicked her spotter away - another rookie mistake. Thankfully, Coach Ava was able to dart forward in time to catch Emma. Behind her, she heard what she swore were skulls crashing together.

It was a pretty accurate description.

Ruby was swearing loudly as she clutched her chin. A little blood seeped between her fingers. Ashley covered her mouth with both hands, and Emma was alarmed to see a lot of blood rolling down the blonde’s chin and staining her shirt. Ava abandoned Emma to check on the two bases, barking at Mary Margaret to run and get the first aid kid.

Emma felt like the worst human being in the world. She clutched at her middle and kept whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again, but no one paid her any attention.

Ava cleaned up the blood pouring from Ashley’s mouth enough to ascertain that all of her teeth were still intact. She just had a busted lip, something many of them had endured in the past. It was crazy how badly a mouth injury bled. As for Ruby, she didn't even need a band-aid once the blood was cleaned away with an antiseptic wipe.

“Watch it carefully for infection,” Coach Ava advised.

“Why?” Ruby asked with a furrowed brow.

Ava winced slightly before reluctantly explaining. “They're bite marks. Ashley’s teeth collided with your chin.”

“WHAT??” Ruby screeched.

The rest of the squad crowded around to see as Coach Ava tilted Ruby’s chin up for a better look. Sure enough, there were two teeth-shaped puncture marks, like she’d been attacked by a wild animal. Practically growling in irritation, Ruby shoved her teammates aside and rushed to the locker room for a better look.

Ruby’s scream moments later had all of the girls collapsing with laughter.

“Well,” Ava sighed, “I suppose we’re taking a little break before we run the routine again.”

*************************************************

“So Ruby has bite marks on her chin?”

Emma snort-laughed through her nose at the look on Killian’s face. “Yep. And the rumors about how she got them get more and more unbelievable as the day goes by.”

Killian rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Bloody gits”

It was too cold now to sit under the trees in the school courtyard, so she and Killian were tucked into a hidden corner in the school atrium. They had to whisper, though, because sounds reverberated against the domed ceiling. Emma couldn’t imagine cheering in this space. How did the seniors not go deaf?

“It’s not really a sexy place for bite marks though,” Emma said as she licked Cheeto powder off her fingers.

“Yeah, I can think of far kinkier places.”

She smacked him in the chest as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She wanted to be indignant at his innuendo, but instead her cheeks burned as her mind plunged straight into the gutter. She already knew a little bit of what Killian could do with his teeth . . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting gears faster than she would have thought possible, “I don’t mean to be an idiot like all the rest.”

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. She practically melted at the way he could so swiftly go from irrepressible flirt to sweet boyfriend. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Emma crumpled up the Cheeto bag and stuffed it into her lunch bag. She handed the wad of trash to her boyfriend sweetly, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Killian took her trash, chuckling as he stood up.

“You don’t have to use doe eyes to get me to do things for you,” he told her before walking to the trash can beside the front doors.

“I don’t?”

“Never,” he answered as he returned to her side. He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, and pulled her snug against his chest.

“So you’ll just wait on me hand and foot?”

“Like the princess you are.”

“Wow, I should really take more advantage of how whipped you are,” she joked.

Killian retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. She wriggled and laughed, but made no attempt to pull away from him. She glanced around, saw no adults, and then pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair. They kept it brief, not wanting to get caught. Storybrooke High gave demerits for PDA. Emma was tempted to just take the demerits so she could kiss her boyfriend thoroughly, but Coach Ava would pull her from the competition line up if she got one more demerit. So Emma just sighed and snuggled against Killian’s chest. He began to idly play with her hair.

“How many demerits do you get for PDA?”

Emma craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

He grinned down at her rakishly. “I didn’t. But how many?”

Emma frowned. “It’s not bad, but it’s still too many for me. I’ve already gotten five demerits and six will get me cut from competition.”

“Scandalous. How did you get five demerits, love?”

Emma grumbled as she shoved a stray hair out of her eyes. “The first two I got because I argued with Mr. Gold about a paper he unfairly gave me a C- on. Then he wrote me up just for questioning him about it!”

“The bastard. And the other three?”

“That was me being stupid. I used the vending machine after noon.”

Killian’s laughter shook his chest, making Emma smile.

“That’s a stupid rule anyway.”

“I know, right? I forgot my lunch!” Emma tightened her arms around Killian. “Principal Mills did let me keep the chips, though.”

They were silent for a moment. Killian was still playing with her hair. She felt him take a deep breath and release it.

“Have you told the squad yet? About UK?”

Emma sighed. She figured he would ask her this eventually. “I will.”

“Emma -”

“I will.” She knew she needed to. Her friends could tell something was off, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted at any more practices.

Or any competitions.

Of course, if she screwed up this badly at a competition, The University of Kentucky might change their minds.

[magalidragon]

riding the waves | a Jonerys drabble

a/n: I don’t know where this came from. Perhaps it will be a bigger fic one day. Damn I miss the beach. And surfing. **cries**

The alarm was set to go off in the next fifteen minutes, but she beat it every single morning, body trained since she was twelve to be up before the sun. Hopping out of the tangled sheets, the windows and doors of the bungalow perpetually thrown open, she took in the morning breeze, salty and full of promise for the new day.  She grinned, hearing the cresting of the waves, the battering of them against the beach just beyond the scrub grass and the sandy stretch beyond the open doors.  Loose gauzy netting hung from the open doors and she pushed it back, to step onto the porch, and inhale those first few crisp breaths.  She exhaled, eyes closed, and did a few sun salutations, opening her lungs and body to the day.  

Kirimvose, she silently thanked Caraxes, Meraxes, and Gaelithox.  God of the sea, Goddess of the sky, and God of fire, moon, stars, sun and the dawn, respectively.  She bounced back up to her feet, hurrying into the bungalow.  All of three rooms, it suited their purposes nicely; they were only ever in there long enough to sleep and half the time they slept out on the porch, beneath the stars anyway.  Any other length of time spent inside was solely when it stormed or rained.  Sometimes rarely then.

She pulled off the t-shirt she’d been sleeping in, tossing it into a pile on the floor with others.  The house was a pigsty; she’d been meaning to clean but hadn’t gotten around to it.  Too much to do on the outside.  She tugged open the drawer of the single chest in their room and plucked out a pair of red bikini bottoms and one of her favorite rash guards, a black and red with her three-headed dragon symbol emblazoned on the back.  

Once changed, she ran out, pausing long enough in the third room of their house to select the board she’d use that morning.  Out of the corner of her eye, her feisty half-feral cat Drogon hissed at her, as she’d apparently chosen a board, he’d been planning on sleeping on.  “Hush,” she chided him, ruffling his head on her way out.  “Go find someone else to annoy.”  He hopped off a board that was stretched over the table and went off to do just that.

She drove in her battered Jeep with the board sticking out the back with a few others to the beach nearest their house, choosing this one this morning because judging from the breeze, the waves, they would be hitting nicely off the reef and give her some good rides that morning.  She grabbed the board and ran off, that first plunge into the sea waking her up, stinging her eyes and bringing her to her happy place.

In the ocean, a bit far from the shore, she sat on her board, lazily bobbing and glanced at the rising sun.  She thanked the gods and goddesses again and then flattened herself, glancing over her shoulder when she saw the beginnings of a good wave.  Here we go, she thought, excited for the first of the day.  She began to paddle and then rose up on it, springing nimbly up onto the board, her core tight, body hunched, as it lifted her clear above the reef, the water, and almost into the sky itself.  

It crested, several feet, and she rode it sideways, heart pumping against her ribs, laughing as she reached the end and rode the board lazily towards the beach.  “Perfect!” she shouted, to no one.  She rolled off into the water, grinning, and grabbed her board, paddling back out again.

An hour or so later, as she crashed off during a particularly nasty wave, she caught sight of another rider, annoyed.  My beach, she scowled.  Even though the beaches belonged to everyone.  She tossed her wet braids over her shoulder, swimming back out, and waited, when she saw the blinding white board, with its red fins in the back.  She smiled as he swam towards her.  “Sȳz tubis issa jorrāelagon,” she greeted.

“Morning,” he replied.  He sat up on his board.  In the glow from the rising sun, he seemed to shine, somehow his skin retaining a paleness to it despite living full time in the heat and sun of the south.  He’d pulled his dark curls into a bun at the nape of his neck, some tendrils free and stuck around his temples, sea water glistening on his dark beard.  He glanced over his shoulder at the oncoming waves, smirking.  “Race you?”

She scowled.  “You’re on.”

They grabbed a couple of waves together; she was pleased that she beat him more than he did her.  Even if she did wipe out on the last one, taking it too fast.  She walked up onto the beach, board under her arm, as he came in after her.  “Where’s Ghost?” she asked.  

“Where else?’

They looked to the water and saw the white wolf-dog bobbing around, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, as he body-surfed in.  She grinned.  “Ghost the amazing surfing wolf!” she shouted, as he ran up onto the beach with them, dancing in the sand.  

“I should get a few more pictures of him for that magazine.”

Ghost the Amazing Surfing Wolf, viral sensation for his videos and shots on a surfboard, who helped keep them in rent and surfboards.  She grinned, leaning towards him.  “The invitational is next week; I’m going to kick your arse.”

He nipped her lower lip.  “No way.”  He was considerably less competitive than her overall, very chill, but when it came to the both of them competing against each other, it could get downright vicious.  He sighed hard.  “Davos wants me to do the Ice Wave Challenge again.”

“You win that every year, it’s not so much a challenge.”

“No.”  Very few people even bothered to try to surf the terrifying waves up off the coast of the North in the Shivering Sea.  Mostly because it was so cold everyone ended up in the hospital with hypothermia, except him.  He’d started trying to do it without a wetsuit, just to see if he could.  He still won.  

They looked around as more people started to pop up on the beach.  A group of teenagers jumped out of a fancy Jeep with brand new surfboards and tags still on their wetsuits.  One of them caught sight of her and shouted.  “Are you Daenerys Targaryen?”

“No,” she lied.

“Yeah right!  I know your silver hair!  Ya’ know, you should have lost that last one, they only gave you high marks cause’ you’re a chick!” The kid had a punk face, sneering.  He snorted.  “I bet I can beat you.”

“What’s your name?”

“Joffrey!”

She glanced sideways at her boyfriend, who was hiding a smile behind his hand.  “Alright Joffrey.  Let’s go then.”  

Several minutes later, Joffrey was eating sand and probably calling his mother to cry about how she destroyed him, and she was arm and arm with her better half, walking up to their respective cars.  Ghost bounced along behind them, chasing lizards into the grass.  “That was fun,” she announced.  

A few other people saw them in the parking lot, locals and the like.  Someone called out asking if they were Daenerys and Jon Snow.  “Shouldn’t you be Jon Sand, living in Dorne?” someone asked him.

He chuckled.  “Nope.  Doesn’t work like that.”

They signed a couple autographs and then hopped in their Jeeps, heading back to the bungalow.  She grabbed her board and began to work on it, waxing and checking the edges, while he whistled along and fed the animals.  It was a good day, she figured, when she finished, and changed out of her suit into a pair of jean shorts and one of her favorite bikini tops, going to join him on the porch.  He had his laptop open, was looking at video of the last invitational.  She studied the video he was watching and pointed.  “You came up too early there, lost speed.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Thank you, you’re not my coach.”

“No, just better than you.”

“I mean, no comment,” he teased.  She nudged the laptop away and sank into his lap, smacking a kiss on his lips.  He sighed, cuddling her, and both looked out at the Sunset Sea stretching out before them.  He idly brushed her drying silver curls over her shoulder.  “You know you could always try the Ice Wave Challenge.  Might give me some competition.”

“You know you don’t care about that.”

He grinned.  “Nope.”  He surfed because it was peaceful to him, as it was for her.  Except she also did it because she liked to win.  He sighed, glancing at Drogon taunting a poor lizard before he ate it.  “We should get Drogon on a board.”

Ghost perked up at that, red eyes blinking curiously.  Drogon hissed, grabbed the lizard, and pranced off, poker brush tail in the air.  Dany laughed.  “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm, worth a shot.”

After an hour or so of relaxing together, Dany got up, patting his knee.  “Come on.  The waves don’t wait for anyone.”  She pulled off her shorts and jumped off the porch, deciding to hang around the house for a bit before they went to one of the bigger beaches, with an audience, and actually practiced.  

Eventually, she ended up letting her board coast to the beach, his floating nearby, as they tangled up with each other in the water, letting it wash over them, and she kissed him like she had that first day she met him when she was thirteen years old on a family vacation, and both of them arguing over who could surf better.  The kid from the North who had more sunscreen on him than was left in the bottle or the girl from Valyria who was born on the water.  

Years later, they agreed it was a draw.  

[beautifulterriblequeen]

I’m really intrigued by Rayla’s moonshadow assassin peers. I especially am interested in Andromeda because I think she is the only other girl in the group? Do you have any headcanons in how these teen/young adult assassins interacted? Do you think Rayla isolated herself from them because she was always iffy about taking a life? Also TDP finally colored their map and I know you live maps, find any new cool stuff? I especially love how there’s a frozen sea north and a spinning sea south, imagine the powerful Magic’s that channeled to make them.

Okay, so I jumped straight to the map, did 80% of it, and wandered away for a few weeks. I apologize, anon. Let’s get this going again:

I’ve got a few headcanons on the Moonshadow assassins! It seems likely that they hang out mostly with each other, when they hang out, to reinforce their teambuilding and to give them some socialization, since assassins tend to keep others at arm’s length. So I kinda figure they tend to roam as a pack on their evenings out in the village, if they’re not married to a non-assassin like Runaan is.

I think that could be part of the reason that Rayla might not have hung out with the others as much, too: Runaan wanted to be either training or at home with Ethari, so Rayla probably spent a lot of time doing those things just because he did them. And when Runaan was doing more serious training or missions, that’s when Rayla had her free time to run around the forest and make adoraburr friends. 

Runaan could’ve probably insisted that she do something more assassiny with her free time. Shadow an assassin, do more studying, practice certain prescribed skills on her own. But he didn’t. He let her play. Soft assassin is soft!

Listen, anon, I have a fun headcanon for you about Andromeda--and by fun, I mean it’s really angsty half a second after you start thinking about it. Ready? 

What if: Andromeda is Runaan’s half-sister. If they’re both Lujanne’s children by different assassin dads who kept dying in battle, but a Moon mage needs an assassin leader partner to defend Xadia with, and Lujanne knew her son Runaan wasn’t old enough to lead yet, so she burned through three or more husbands protecting him until Runaan was well trained enough to lead the assassins himself and had fallen in love with a mage who adored him and would be his partner in her place.

 Andromeda looks a fair bit like Lujanne, too:

Along with Runaan, they all have long hair, side tails bound in silver cuffs, and some form of braids. Andromeda’s hair is sectioned in front similarly to Runaan’s. Her accent sounds more British than Scottish, though she only has the one line: My eyes for truth. And Lujanne and Andromeda are the only two Moonshadow elves we’ve met who have medium blue horns, while Runaan’s are dark blue. Almost everyone else’s horns have purple or pink as their base color.

But then, see, Andromeda went on Runaan’s mission, and she died. Her spirit was the most aggressive in TTM, usually closest to Rayla with her sword out, as if she hated Rayla the most. If she had a vested family interest in Runaan’s mission succeeding, and then it went pear-shaped because of Rayla, that would make sense.

No matter if she’s related to Runaan or not, she’s wearing horn cuffs, so she was in a dedicated relationship of some kind, and that’s so sad. Someone’s missing her the way Ethari’s missing Runaan. :’((((

Anyway, it’s just a headcanon, but since you asked, there ya go.

Okay, on to my thoughts on the map, of which I have a normal and healthy amount:

The Map Border: 

Everyone doodles in the borders. I love to see what they put there.

Starting in the upper left and going counter-clockwise, the five human crowns are cool

Cornucopia swirls center left look like an homage to Cabbage Man from ATLA

Bait is staring at Evenere. his home? Or maybe he just wants to eat the dragonfly on its logo

Human defender has a beard. Hairagorn. He's very heavily armored but has no helmet. Long hair is braided to rest on front of shoulder, like the blond elf in the painting at the Moon Nexus. Old timey hairstyle?

He’s defending Katolis Castle specifically. I wonder if the little white building is kinda random or if it’s supposed to represent the Banther Lodge. Nah, I have a better guess: that’s where Viren grew up

The crack in the map looks meta. It's been repaired somewhat. Makes me wonder if it's an in-world map, whose, who ripped it, and who fixed it. Sir Phineas Kurst seems like the kind of guy to almost shred his really cool map

The star behind Zym's egg has seven points

The two ships on the southern waters are western and eastern respectively. Tidebound elves from Singapore? Jack Sparrow would be proud

There is land just south of the Dragontail, wonder what’s there?

The leaves around the human figure are small and numerous while the Moonshadow elf has fewer but bigger leaves

The elf is standing in the way of one of the six leaves growing out of the rune rose and that leaf's curly tip seems to have been replaced with a curl of the elf's very long hair

The human pose is more offense and the elf pose is more defense. But the elf has two swords, and one has some wicked hooks in it.

Elf has 4 fingers instead of 3 so whether it’s in-universe or meta, they were drawn by a human :DDD

The elf's braid winds around their horn and I think that's clever

High collar shirt under protective layer, bracers and elbow gloves, bare biceps, complex shoulder getup, ornate hair that's butt long and partly braided, two long slightly curving swords... horn cuffs too. This is a Moonshadow assassin in the same gear Runaan's got, poised to defend the Xadian half of the map as the human is poised to defend his side

The rune rose isn't a compass. It has a two sided pointer and six primal runes. Just decorative I guess. ;)

More lettuces on right center.

Maybe a portaling caterpillar on the center knot? Little bug pal, I see you

“The Five Human Kingdoms” lettered in red, “Xadia” in blue. Giving me Stratego flashbacks. Even the flowers on their banners are color coded

Banners in the corners are similar but Xadia has more fluttery tips

Thunder drawn all attacky top center, does he have anything to do with the Frozen Sea being frozen?

Compass rose under Thunder’s wing

Dick island near the compass. Well, Duren is the breadbasket of the human lands. A most excellent cartography joke! 10/10 would chortle wholesomely again

The Human Kingdoms:

Neolandia

Capital Eboreus seems to be a lake city below a mountain and I'm here for all the Lake Town refs. 

It's also the eye of the elephant shape

Not a lot of trees, mostly grasses or desert. Only borders Duren across a couple rivers/estuaries/sea channels

Heart shaped island next to elephant trunk

Land generally broken into several sections by sea/rivers 

If it’s rivers, they seem to generate from the capital’s lake and flow in several directions. And they say there’s no magic left in the western lands! ;)

But if there was exactly one source of freshwater in a desert land, it makes sense that you’d find a way, magical or mechanical, to spread that lifegiving water in as many directions as possible so your people can thrive so kudos to Neolandia’s ancestors/Tidebound elves/whoever managed that, it’s brilliant

I can and will make up explanations for anything on a map. I adore worldbuilding

Del Bar

Two named locations. Since Del Bar’s national symbol is a serpent, I guess Serpentongue is the capital.

Hinterpeak is a sweet name. Looks like Helm's Deep with that retaining wall. What’s it for? Are there dwarves in this land? Is it an Earthblood stronghold? Maybe it’s like the Mines of Moria, and the Earthbloods were chased out and/or killed inside and now it’s full of nasty orcses but someone left a MacGuffin down there so *nudges hero* Off you pop.

Nice forests around the southern mountain range but northern DB is more arid or grassy lands like Neolandia. 

Considering that crops grow well in Duren, which is farther north, I assume there is a massive meteorological gyre over the human lands, with a southern wind blowing down over the western realms and keeping them icy until the mountains of Hinterpeak block and divert them, protecting Evenere. The winds don't blow eastward without warming right up-- and causing thunderstorms in Katolis how about that-- because there is a warmer side to the gyre over Katolis and Duren, blowing tropical warmth and moisture north and providing rain for trees and crops alike. Most years, anyway.

How does the weather fail in Duren for seven years in a row, anyway? That seems like a Thunder issue. Unless it’s a Sunforge issue, which I’ll get to below.

Ahem.

Borders Neolandia, Duren, and Katolis across rivers, but most border is coastline.

Serpentongue probably got its name from the two river heads around it

Cluster of dead little cracks spawns a single river. Looks like someone cracked the tub and it drained away. I wonder how much of this landscape has been affected by the Mage Wars. Big watery basins have flooded and other spots seem dead. The lands may or may not actually touch depending on how deep some of these waterways are

Evenere

Looks like someone punched holes in the land with a giant pencil to make it a separate island. Broken outline with scattered islands

That Pawprint Isles has only four toes

Moon-shaped island is very crescenty indeed

Are these isles home to refugees or outcasts from Xadia? Listen, I want pirates and that sea looks pretty Caribbean to me

No capital city, hmmm what's that about? Is it underground, does it move? Maybe Fareeda’s capital is on the back of a world turtle and she’s constantly on tour around the island?

That arm of land ending in a peace sign, please can we get surfers

The hills emanating from that claw shaped headland look like something is sleeping under the island, hello yes I am here for giant immortal creatures please

Katolis

its capital is also called Katolis, the only human realm to use the same name twice

Weeping Bay could be a ref to the tears the humans shed after they reached the west. Or the Moonshadow elves as they left their forest for the east. Or both. Both, in this case, is bad but balanced

Boomerang island next to the Dragontail

The river the Dragaang rode on was going uphill

The watery slash in the land between Katolis and Del Bar is awfully straight. So is the one between Del Bar and Neolandia. I call magical warfare.

Katolis has a bunch of mountains in the east, part of an old natural border before the lava one appeared

Mt Kalik is probably volcanic. It's a standalone mountain and it's really tall. Rex Ignius maybe? Oh, probably not, I think I see him peeking on the other side of the map

The trees of Duren and Katolis are different then the western lands. Softer green, deciduous. And the land itself is yellower, warmer in tone

Forests centered on Mt Kalik

The Moon Nexus looks like an eye on a dragon head near the Dragontail, and Evenere looks like a severed wing (Yes I am still wondering where Luna Tenebris went, why do you ask)

Weeping Bay looks like the most natural body of water in the western lands

Three red little trees scattered around the Katolis map. Fruit trees? How very Moonshadow.

Duren

The only land border among all the human kingdoms is between Duren and Katolis. Maybe it used to be further south along the river?

Capital is Berylgarten, set on a lake. Beryl is a stone that’s usually green, blue, or yellow in color, very gardeny

Second smallest realm but the breadbasket of the human lands. Has several little forests and great tilled fields

Being a farmer in Duren is probably as awesome as being an assassin in the Moonshadow Forest; you do what you do for all your friendly kingdoms

Northernmost land is cold and craggy, named Skall's Hook along the sea

Third ship in the Frozen Sea is icebound and crushed. Looks western, indicating no possible passage

Lots of colored trees and shrubs as if fruitbearing, I keep comparing Duren to the Yakima Valley in Washington State

Where the lava reaches the Frozen Sea, it melts the ice next to Duren's mountains

Northern Xadia:

Lux Aurea

Most of the center lands of this map has warm tones for its ground. Maybe that’s because of the long reach of the warmth and light of Lux Aurea’s Sun Nexus, and only the lands that are just too far from it are truly cold and icy. It would explain why Duren is a breadbasket realm so far north--it’s just across the border from Lux Aurea.

If there’s anything to that, then I suddenly worry for the fate of all the human lands now that the Sunforge has gone dark. It’s early summer now in Xadia, and crops in Duren will be ripening soon... Unless the sun’s magic was helping them grow. This coming winter could be rough. Next winter, people will die. Unless they can purify the Sunforge again.

Also, I have to wonder if Duren’s seven years of famine had anything to do with Sunforge shenanigans. They’d have happened at Khessa’s command, and we know she despises humans. If she was responsible for all the struggles that humans had to go through without enough food for seven years, and then their desperate attempt to fix the problem by invading Xadia for a Magma Titan’s heart which extended and exacerbated the war, I can see why Aaravos might feel Queen Khessa deserved to die

The city’s shaped kinda like an Egyptian pectoral necklace on this map, and that’s super pretty and not at all ominous

Also that’s a lot of gold for a whole city and I wonder how they got it all

The Shiverglades and the Shards

These areas are north of Lux Aurea and seem cold but not very icy, even though the Frozen Sea is right there. More thoughtful glances at the Sunforge over this one. Is it warming the land, or not warming the sea? Both?

Shiverglades is a play on Everglades, so this is a cold swamp, which sounds super fun I’m sure. Permafrost, tundra maybe?

The Shards seem to be rock islands with ice mountains. Glaciers are cool. 

I wonder if something broke those islands off on purpose. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy worldbuilding? Yeah, well, I like world-wrecking, too.

Storm Spire

Has a good view on everything that happens for miles, including Lux Aurea, the Midnight Desert, the Shiverglades, the Black Tundra, the Uncharted Forest, and Drakewood. 

Defensible position, no other tall mountains nearby

Also able to alert others to danger, especially since Avizandum could teleport like lightning

The Midnight Desert

It’s pretty big! And it looks like it’s littered with ruins of columns and dead palm trees. Like something else used to be in that great space and then something Very Bad happened to it. Maybe there was one great city where all the elves could mix together, and then it got utterly obliterated and the elves all fled to their respective safe places around Xadia. A city of black stone, back when Aaravos wore a crown? Now pulverized to dust and surrounded by not one, not two, but three primal nexuses? Hmmm...

All the wisps could be heat from the sand, or spooky spirit hints, or just an ominous sign of danger from the snakes below, but the overall effect is that the land is unhealthy if not cursed

The oasis is marked, and it must contain a spring since it runs a river out to join the river that passes through the Moonshadow Forest

Also the actual oasis kinda resembles a blue lizard which is adorable and probably also terrifying

Moonshadow Forest

The Silvergrove is the only village marked in the forest, so in keeping with the other lands and general map legend rules, it’s likely the capital/central village for the Moonshadow elves

The village is marked by four round-roofed homes between two tall leafy trees that shelter and hide them. It’s a hybrid balance between the blocky manmade castles of the human lands and the actual forest around them, showing a blending with nature that even the Sunfire city of Lux Aurea did not embrace, with all its golden buildings

It’s a good-sized forest, and it kinda stretches thin to the east but there it tentatively connects to the Drakewood Forest

Moonstone Path to the west just chilling in the lava like a blank alignment chart. Moonstone Path is Chaotic Hot.

Southern Xadia:

Ruins of Elarion

Elarion is a city, and it’s been lost to the humans for a thousand years

The building outlines are squared-off towers like the more modern castles in the west, suggesting that humans in Xadia built for strength and defense as soon as they could. They felt vulnerable and created protections in their architecture. The three elven cities we see also play to their strengths, but those strengths include magic. Elarion’s humans had to find a different strength, and they went with craftsmanship and ingenuity

It seems to be the only human city from before the border was drawn

“Ruins” doesn’t necessarily mean no one lives there at all, but it’s been emptied of humans and no one else has maintained it since

It had a great position on a vast lake, with sheltering hills and easy sea access

Sea of the Castout

This inland sea has five inlets and outlets. It’s hard to be sure which is which with some of them, with the way the water is drawn on this map. But I’m kinda liking the idea that all the water swirlies are places where Tidebound magic has been placed over the millennia, so the water can do whatever it needs to do depending on circumstances. That goes for the human lands, too. Katolis backward river, you’re off the hook.

With a name like "Castout,” I wonder if it was some kind of universal toilet to flush away things you didn’t want--including humans--who might wash up near Elarion and start to build there. Yeesh.

The rivers that flow into this sea pass through or near the Moonshadow Forest, the Midnight Desert, the Storm Spire, Drakewood, and the Uncharted Forest. That’s a lot of drainage.

It’s pretty far from the Tidebound Archipelago, so maybe its name is referencing Tidebound elves who have left their home colony

Was this always a sea, or did something that Xadia wanted to forget get flooded and hidden in the depths?

The land around it seems open and hospitable. It could be a good place to build/rebuild in a time of peace.

The Far Reaches

Open grassland with low hills

Two of the hills look like giant boot prints

Several colorful trees which I hope are fruit trees

Bounded by two rivers from the Sea of the Castout

Looks homey tbh, great spot to retire to get away from everything if there were a war that really shook you up

Ocean Point

There’s a Star rune here, and it could mean many things

The closest other marked location is Elarion

If this was where Aaravos lived of his own free will, I can see why he’d take a shine to the humans. They were his neighbors.

If he is imprisoned here, it’s literally the furthest point in Xadia from the other elven realms, with the Moonshadow Forest being the closest one and Umber Tor not too much further but in a totally different direction. If they were trying to isolate him physically with a portable mirror to watch over him, that’s a good spot for it

Possible location that the cube is leading Callum toward? Portal to the Star Touch home plane? Aaravos’s seaside B&B? Trap street?

Eastern Xadia:

Drakewood

Umber Tor looks to be the tallest mountain in all of Xadia, save possibly for the Storm Spire. It’s more traditionally mountainy, with a nice snowcap. Since it’s labeled, I’m guessing it’s the Earth Nexus, under which an Earth Archdragon sleeps

Also there’s a giant yellowish-brown dragon chilling next to the Tor. Yeah, he seems nice. Rex Igneous, I presume?

Or maybe not, since the neighboring forest is called Drakewood. Maybe this woods is just where a bunch of Earth dragons hang out? Ezran and Pyrrah flew off and returned with a crew of Sun dragons from somewhere, so dragons must have communities too

The mountains that edge the sea are shaped roughly like a stone dragon in flight

Drakewood seems to be the forest closest to Umber Tor, with both deciduous and evergreen trees, though there’s a huge swath of wooded land here, to the north and to the southwest. I wonder what the locals consider the border where the Drakewood becomes the Uncharted Forest and why. The way the evergreens are drawn almost looks like a border, a sort of kingswood set aside for a specific use. Rex Igneous’s best toothpicks?

Uncharted Forest

Okay this is a properly magical name, very mysterious. But uncharted by whom? People with charts? This might be a Sir Phineas Kurst name, which is outsidery, and it makes me wonder if the locals/neighbors have their own name for it, which the human explorer never learned, a la “Thunder” for Avizandum

Maybe “Uncharted Forest” just means no one ever turned those trees into charts though, old growth ftw

If no one lives here, will someone move here? If someone lives here, who are they? Earthblood elves? Moonshadow elves? Humans? This mystery, it calls to me

the trees are mostly deciduous and fill basically all of this whole section of land, up against the mountains and the rivers, so it seems very fertile land indeed

Earthblood elves could live here, but there is no city marked. Maybe because we haven’t gotten that far in the show, or maybe that’s the wrong sort of descriptor for how the Earthbloods live and organize. Maybe the whole forest is their city, like Pando, the interconnected quaking aspen clone forest

The northernmost part of this forest lies right between the Storm Spire and the Tidebound Archipelago, so it might get a regular flyover route for migration or messages

Yes, this forest is the most interesting place in Xadia to me, I desperately want to learn more about it

Black Tundra

Yeah this place isn’t ominous

Similar to the Shiverglades, but where that has shrubbery, the Black Tundra has single dead trees and creepy curving spikes. Scorched? Poisoned? De-magicked?

The water north of this area isn’t frozen, and with a lake to the south and a river and a moderate mountain range, the whole area looks like it would otherwise be decently habitable, but instead it’s cold and black

Is climate change a thing here, or will we get a nice horrible disaster instead?

Tidebound Archipelago

These islands have dotted lines around them, like they’re submerged at high tide, or maybe made of shifting sand that literally moves around like sand dunes across a desert, or perhaps they’re exactly at sea level with half their civilization in the air and half underwater or in cool bubbles, or maybe the islands actually float

Maybe the Tidebound elves even sank them on purpose for defensive purposes

The archipelago is about even latitudinally with the Storm Spire Lux Aurea, Berylgarten, and Eboreus so they probably get pretty nice weather

There’s no ice in sight here in any direction along Xadia’s east coast, so presumably the prevailing current is a warm one

do they have bridges connecting the islands? Ferries, animals who give them a lift across?

the islands have quite a bit of space on them. I wonder if there’s a big population, maybe a shifting population? Do Tidebound elves migrate up and down the coast like gray whales and return to the islands for certain holidays or social events?

This is probably the hub of the Tidebound elves’ culture, but the sea surrounds the whole land and infiltrates it with many rivers and lakes. The Spinning Sea and the Frozen Sea are pretty firm Do Not Enter signposts, but a determined Tidebound could get around either one if they wanted to

What I’m not seeing here is a city. Either it’s not been marked yet, or that’s not a thing that Tidebound elves have in their culture. If they don’t have a city, they’re possibly migratory in family groups, or maybe they stick to small villages like the Moonshadows do, but with even less central leadership

[spellucci]

RIP Amber

October 2005 - April 28, 2021

Amber the Traveler

Amber was an accomplished traveling companion. She has peed in all of the lower 48 states. She has swum in the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Gulf of Mexico, all five of the Great Lakes, and many lakes and streams in between. Amber hiked the 200+ miles of the Bay Circuit Trail from Plum Island on the north shore of Boston to Plymouth on the south shore.

Along the way, she brought joy and happiness to all who were privileged to pet her. On a crowded overlook at Yosemite National Park, Amber collected a crowd from a tour bus. They ignored the gorgeous scenery and lined up to pet her. On the Bay Circuit Trail, high school students would gather around her to pet her. She was beautiful.

She taught Jeanne how to listen to dog language. Jeanne was a slow learner, but she eventually learned the basics of “ha ha, two-legged, you are huffing and puffing up this hill when you should have four legs and run up it like me.” This is said with a smirking, superior laugh. Other basic phrases are: “It’s time for water and snacks.” “It’s time to turn back now.” The most memorable was “I’ve had enough of this cold rain. Put me in this nice warm car NOW.” The car she was next to wasn’t our car. At home, she would sometimes even communicate with her bodily functions, the details of which will be omitted from this obituary.

After hiking the Bay Circuit Trail, she got 3 serious tick-borne diseases. The local vet told us to put her to sleep, she wouldn’t survive. We found another vet who helped Amber stay with us for five more years. Her new vet was delighted that she recovered so well.

Barky Beginnings

At age six, Mike wanted a dog. “But you won’t take care of it.” “Yes, I will, mommy!” Jeanne set him an impossible task: show you can take care of a dog by taking care of the cat for two months, including feeding her and cleaning the litter box once a week. He enthusiastically did everything he was asked, including cleaning the litter box daily. Mike won.

We went to Buddy Dog, the local animal shelter. We saw lots of dogs and Mike liked them all. Finally, we went into the Puppy Room. He crawled into the crate with a lively pile of three-month old rescue puppies and stared at one with rapture. They looked at each other in complete adoration, and so Amber joined our family.

And the lesson about taking care of the dog? Forgotten in the excitement of having a puppy in the house. The duties of feeding and walking Amber were taken up by the adults. Amber and Jeanne fell in love through this experience, Jeanne’s indifference to dogs melting in Amber’s brown eyes. The Bay Circuit Trail hike cemented their friendship.

We always took Amber camping. She learned to swim at an early age. Her first swim was on a long leash. She had a most startled expression on her face, as if to say, “I’m swimming! I can’t believe I’m swimming.” She was a water dog from then on.

Mount Desert Island National Park has a climb, not a hike, but a real climb up stairs and iron ladders, called the Beehive. She was eager to get up it with us. The boys would climb up, she would patiently wait her turn, and the Tim would hoist her up to the next ledge. She was the hit of the mountain.

Amber was a winter dog. She was potty trained in the snow.

We went sledding during the first winter we had her. Tim was concerned she would run away while we were at the sledding hill. Tim’s brother Chris was like, “Run away? You are her whole life! She is going to stay with you the whole time.” 

For the rest of her life, she relished fresh snowfall. She would run outside, dig her nose into a fresh snowbank, bring her snow covered snout to the surface, and give a big “look what I did” smile.

Life with Amber

Amber raised a horde of boys from six-ish to adulthood. She considered them her litter mates. Along the way, Amber helped to raise a litter of kittens, played with the cats, including carefully letting one cat wrestle with her.

No squirrels dared enter our yard and deer turned up their white tails and ran. When she heard deer in the yard, she would wait by the door, and charge out after them as soon as the door was open, and return grinning. “Mom, I chased them. Did you see, did you see? They all ran so fast!”

Amber learned to be very careful with geese, and then applied that lesson to turkeys, just in case.

She would always lay at the top of the stairs so that any kid who entered the house would stop and pet her. Up until the last party she hosted, she was always gracious letting her friend-group pet her coming and going.

She always knew who was allowed and who wasn’t. Women and children were welcome. Men? Not so much. Tim was Amber’s primary chef and waiter. Amber’s take on Tim? Alarmed barking every time Tim came home, as if to say, “That guy, he’s here!!!”

In her youth, she was placed in her crate during working hours to keep her from eating the couch again. Once she famously Houdini-ed out of her crate to chase a burglar out of the house with the little he was carrying. Amber very proudly met Jeanne’s car (what’s Amber doing outside, and how did she get out of her crate?) to let Jeanne know that Amber had protected the house. Jeanne was concerned about coming home to an open front door, and waited for the police before entering the house. But brave Amber never went back in the crate.

Amber was adept at taking food that was not intended for her. No garbage can was Amber proof. Many items placed out of her reach on the back of the stove, meatloaf, chicken, pizza, somehow managed to disappear. Amber wore a knowing smirk.

Goodbye Amber

Amber was always an intrepid explorer — ever ready to go somewhere new. As she got older, the walks grew shorter and the RV became her way of going to new places. 

Readers of this blog know how she loved to find new places to pee and to sniff. Her favorite spot in the RV was in the cab between the driver and the passenger, where she was in easy reach for petting as we drove her to new sites.

In the last few weeks, we saw her sleeping more and more, and sometimes we would see her legs twitch as she dreamed of chasing squirrels. Her mile, then half-mile walks had turned into 100-feet of pained limping. We decided it was time to let her go. She died peacefully at home surrounded by her peeps, assisted by a vet who makes house calls.

Best girl. Fluffilicious girl. We hope you are running through grass with no ticks, chasing deer that always run, and pizza to snatch off the back of the stove when you get home.

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Four

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Mistface would be lying if he said he wasn’t entirely disgusted with his task.

He could see Snowshine from here – she was a pretty white molly with yellow eyes, and she was currently pulling a squirrel from the oversized prey pile. She looked a little anxious… perhaps ‘stressed’, rather, was the right word. Her fur was fluffy, and Mistface could guess that it was normally very well groomed and smoothed down. Right now, it looked like she had slept on it wrong, and then kept turning over in her sleep to make all of it stick out at odd angles.

“Prime for flattery and a kind conversation,” Darkpelt had said to him. “So pour on the charm and pretend you give a hoot about her problems.”

Mistface didn’t like other cats at the best of times. Actively having to seek one out and act interested in them was like finding a stinking, rotting piece of meat in the grass and being told to eat it with a genuine smile.

Nevertheless, he had a mission (why had he agreed to this again?), so he gently shook out his fur, let it settle, and sauntered forward for the prey-pile.

Snowshine glanced up as he approached and blinked in surprise. He smiled pleasantly at her and sniffed a mouse.

“They make prey so much better ‘round these parts,” he said in his news-and-weather voice. “Marshes must take the taste right out of whatever StarClan sends down.”

Snowshine relaxed and some of her fur flattened, though it was still awkwardly angled. “I haven’t really been anywhere but here. You’re from the south? Scattered, I'm guessing?”

“That I am.” Mistface tilted his head and crinkled his eyes in fake amusement. “Accent give it away?”

She laughed a little. “Just a bit.” She looked him over with roaming eyes. Mistface tried not to get annoyed. “I don’t think I heard your name when you came in. You were with that blind molly, right?”

“Mm.” He tilted his head a little to the left with a winning smile. “I’m Mistface.”

“Oh!” Snowshine perked up even more. “Then you’re Greyleaf’s brother! He’s always talking about you and your mother.”

“Oh, dear.” Mistface made a face of pretend worry. “Must not have a real good impression of me, then.”

“Actually, he has nothing but nice things to say about you,” Snowshine hurried to reply. “He says you’re really charming and kind.”

“We’ll have to see if that’s the case, then, won’t we?” Mistface said, giving her an appraising look. She suddenly seemed a little shy. He wanted to vomit.

Snowshine shuffled her feet and pointed with her tail to a rare grassy spot just beyond a pair of houses. “I, um, usually eat over there, if you want to come with. It’s a lot warmer than anywhere else in the village.”

“That’d be nice.” Mistface picked up a random piece of prey (a black bird of some kind) and waited for her to do the same with her meal before walking with her to the grass. He was very grateful he didn’t have to say anything now that his mouth was occupied.

Once they were settled across from each other, Mistface started pulling some of the feathers off of his prey’s belly. “I do have to ask – you’re a seer, I'm guessin'. And a real good one, goin’ by your suffix. What are you doin’ here in Clast?”

“Oh, well…” Snowshine swallowed the mouthful of squirrel she had already taken. “Everywhere needs a seer. And now, with Redheart doing her… thing... the actual Clast cats need someone to sort of be in charge.” She gave a weak chuckle, seemingly to herself. “They’re not too happy with her bringing in a bunch of strangers that don’t want to fight.”

“Y’all have plenty of loners come in, though, don’t you?”

“Yes, definitely, but they’re at least here to test their strength, and then they leave.” Snowshine sighed. “Not that I like them barging in all the time, but the rest of Clast does. These new cats are just here because of Redheart’s new ideas. They turn down too many fights for Clast’s liking. And, well, Redheart acting so odd anyway…”

Mistface had the sneaking suspicion that Snowshine did not voice her thoughts too often to anyone around the settlement. Suddenly, now that someone was listening and apparently caring, she was off. Mistface simply nodded and let her go about her new duties and how Redheart was this and that, and on and on, while he ate his bird.

“…I mean, I haven’t even been able to go to the Lighthouse, I’ve been so busy. StarClan can speak to us anywhere, I know, but sleeping at the very bridge to heaven is the best way to talk directly.”

She paused for breath, and Mistface took the opportunity to comment, “And StarClan can’t reach you at all if you leave with Redheart, I’m guessin’.”

“She’d like that,” Snowshine said, with a sudden darkness. “She’s always been weird about StarClan. Never even thinks to just have me ask them what to do about whatever problems come up, even for big things.” She looked around and leaned in a little, Mistface copying her, and whispered, “I think it’s just because she has these nightmares now and then. She thinks that StarClan’s giving her the silent treatment, so she’s getting bad dreams instead of visits from our ancestors.”

Nightmares… Mistface hummed in thought, keeping his voice low. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but my brother has the same problem.”

“Really?” Snowshine’s eyes widened.

“He’s had nightmares all his life.” Mistface knew that Greyleaf didn’t consider this particular fact a secret, but pretending to share some intimate detail with Snowshine would only help her trust him more, so he continued with his conspiring tone. “StarClan’s never talked to him, either.”

Snowshine nodded like he had given her the answer to all of life’s questions. “That must be why they get along so well, then.”

“Mm.” Mistface drew his head back, but stayed quiet. “Any other seers ‘round here that could help?”

“Well, we have the one that came in.” Snowshine made a slightly distasteful face. “Starkfeather. But he’s… not exactly someone I would go out of my way to talk to about stuff like this. I don’t know that he’d be particularly helpful.”

Mistface winked. “Not on your level, at least, I take it.”

Snowshine smiled bashfully and Mistface silently cursed Darkpelt for making him do this. “Maybe not… an apprentice arrived one day that used to train as a seer, but she’s going to be a warrior instead, so I didn’t want to bother her and ask.”

Snowshine started again on her rambling, this time about the various new cats that had come in recently. Mistface listened solely because she could say something important.

She didn’t.

He did not like her.

 ---

 When night arrived, everyone settled in to sleep, except for Beetlefoot. He instead took the opportunity to pretend take a walk and enjoy the night sky. When he was far enough away from the eyes and ears of the Clast camp, he took off north, never once looking upward (it was a waste of time).

He was lucky enough to meet no one on his path – during the living years, everyone stayed in underground dens or moved to whatever trees or shelter they could find to escape the rain. There was no rain tonight, but clouds were coming again from the coast. Even this far away, Beetlefoot could gather that Petrichor and Derecho, the aspects of storms, would be arriving soon with a determination to soak the earth.

Which means he would leave footprints on his next trip, if he wasn’t careful.

Beetlefoot caught a scent of a familiar cat and slowed down to a loping canter. He lifted his head up again, keeping his chest puffed out as well as he could while staying at his current speed. He already knew how this was going to go for him. Drop off the information, be dismissed, leave without another word. Other Fleet members liked to swap conversations. Just not usually with him.

Never a change in that, until Nettlecloud and her strange sons.

He saw a cat rise from the grass and turn to face him, soon followed by four others. He slowed again, this time to his regular trot, and nodded sharply once he was within earshot. He stopped a few feet away from the leader, a grey molly with a heavily scared muzzle, and stood about as tall as he could. He was still much shorter than everyone else.

“Beetlefoot, yeah?” the molly said. “Clean path here?”

“Yes.” Beetlefoot dipped his head. “No thorns on the way, Shreddednose.”

He didn’t particularly like trading the common polite phrases with other members of the Fleet, but it was all he usually got in the way of conversation, so he took it. It was just good to be greeted at all by one of the more prolific patrollers in the Fleet.

A lanky black molly took several long steps forward. “What’ve you got for us?”

This, he thought, was Striderfoot. He had only met her once, and she had been similarly brisk. He could respect that. “Information about Redheart.”

He recited everything Darkpelt and Mistface had gathered and given him – leaving out, he noted with pride, absolutely nothing. Striderfoot narrowed her eyes, listening carefully, until he concluded. She looked at Shreddednose.

“You got everything?” Shreddednose said.

“Everything,” Striderfoot affirmed. “Want me to head off now?”

“You might as well.” Shreddednose tapped Striderfoot’s side with her tail. “Frostclaw can go with you, if you want. That predator and all.”

“What, and be slowed down by her lumbering rump?” Striderfoot said, and grinned when a white molly came up and bopped her. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be light by the time I get there.”

“Then try to be safe for once,” Shreddednose said fondly.

“Of course.” Striderfoot turned, nodded at Beetlefoot, and said quiet goodbyes to the rest of her team before taking off at a sprint (I could outrun her, Beetlefoot thought snippily).

Shreddednose smiled, then returned to professionalism when she looked back at Beetlefoot. “Nothing else?”

Beetlefoot pretended he didn’t feel a little deflated. “Nothing else.”

“Chase the wind, then.” Shreddednose bowed her head.

“Only the warmest breezes.” Beetlefoot mirrored her gesture to her, then to the others, who looked indifferent to his existence. He whirled around and sprinted off, hastening to leave the situation before it turned awkward.

He was right, at least. He could outrun her.

[commander-orca]

COTW FANFICTION

CHAPTER 7: FEELINGS INTO THE FOG

At bedtime, Orca repeatedly recalled Suoh's words about the dead. He had read all kinds of things about the Mud Whale’s traditions in the Empire's archives, both accurate and wrong recollections, modified or entirely rewritten to the glory of the Country. He had read about the making of their wicker baskets, used to transport their dead and had suspected that the power of the Daimonas must be lying dormant somewhere at Faleina’s core. But Orca had never heard of the Walls of the Dead. And yet, he believed it without hesitation. Sometimes one could hear funny voices in the air and he knew from his sister that many people had had strange visions.

The nights that followed turned out to be less restful than the previous ones. His new home, which had seemed to him a hamlet of peace and safety, conducive to restorative sleep, now gave him the impression of entering a funerary monument. The atmosphere in the room did not seem much more welcoming to him, but hostile and cold like the tomb of the dead. The simplicity and space he had enjoyed now took on a meaning of desolation. Obviously this was only a subjective impression, the fruit of Suoh's thoughts, the small room had not metamorphed before his eyes. But despite these injunctions to himself, Orca felt changed by this revelation.

He felt he was starting to lose his mind the longer he stayed locked up here. He could barely sleep a few hours in this bed, thinking about those who had lain there before. From time to time he found himself kneeling in silence, whispering apologies, begging for forgiveness. One night, he had hugged one of the walls, pressing his ear to the wall, wishing to feel something, but certainly not waiting for an answer. He was a little angry with Suoh a few times, regretting his previous insouciance. But those moments never lasted long since he esteemed Suoh and considered that his ignorance, that sleeping in the innocents’ beds unaware, without care for their lives torn away, would have been much worse.

His sister and Itia had noticed the deterioration of his state. When he emerged from the war councils and they took him out to eat, they were attentive to the dark bags which hollowed out his eyes and his pale face. Orca had decided not to mention the issue; he knew they would offer him a kind of sympathy he didn't deserve.

That day, Orca and his sister were sitting in the palm grove, resting on the brown grass. They were sharing a bowl of fried rice and handfuls of steamed vegetables, sheltered under a large shrub leaf. Faleina was unrecognizable; silently cutting through the waves and not a bird to accompany her on her way, she swiveled from time to time to change course. This autopilot navigation reinforced the spectral aspect the mist assigned to any object that was not at fingertips. The clay waged a fierce battle, its only weapon being its will to stand firm and hold the walls. The curtain of gray clouds enveloped the landscape in an opaque fog and it seemed to them that, beneath this torrential rain, the island harboured them only, the long palm and the few blades of grass which bent in the wind, not far away. The abandoned meadows and bare windows gave some reason to believe that at least. Both had folded their legs to avoid getting wet, to the side and against his chest for Lykos, who watched the water fall from the sky, thoughtful. There was something gloomy about this weather, like a curse creeping in, slowly poisoning the air.

"You look absent," Orca said, trying to strike up the conversation. 

Even though he was eloquent and could boast about being able to improvisine galvanizing speeches, talking aimlessly in order to hang his audience on his lips or lose it, his sister was a different matter altogether. Facing her, he froze, overwhelmed by his incapacity. She knew everything about his superficial oratory, as she knew everything about his inner sensibility. It was this undeceivable look that was most unsettling. His strong alter could have taken on the task, of course, but this one was just only a fool when it came to feelings. He was abrupt and insensitive. Orca wanted to follow Kannavi's advice in spite of himself and make room for the Orca his sister knew intimately. Even if it meant being vulnerable.

"And you look preoccupied," Lykos replied, his worried eyes making their way through her hair.

Orca bit his lip, tempted let her remark fall flat.

“I simply don't like this weather. Falei- No, the Whale is as though hands and feet tied in the dark ”.

Lykos nodded, understanding. A slight smile hollowed out her cheeks and her fingers began to play with the strands of her braids.

“I disliked this before too. There has been a few days like this since I got here but ... It distressed me ”.

Orca refrained a burning urge to get closer to her. Instead, he darted discreet eyes into her face.

“But no sooner did the rain fall that the people here all raised their arms to the sky, as if they were thanking or praying. It was explained to me that it is because it doesn’t rain often on the Whale and that it is a sign of fertility and luck.

-They celebrate the rain ...? His brother whispered, watching the flood now with brand new eyes.

However, it did not go without saying that this unpleasant feeling did linger. The mood on the island was gloomy and the rain falling like a cage chasing them endlessly. But if the Whale was already a cage in itself ...

They fell into a new silence that lasted a little longer this time. And, for the first time, Orca seemed to notice this significant space between them. This ambient coldness which paralyzed them both. Her sister's body was stiff, curled up on itself, her chin resting on her knees and she was standing away from him. They weren’t saying a word. It was laughable; the man had hoped that his arrival on the Whale would be the trigger for a revived bond. But this tense atmosphere did not fade away and although so close, it was undeniable, they were still and always within a universe of each other. 'I would like you to stay,' her sister had said. However, the past was not intact. It had not waited for them to meet again to start moving forward. Dressing in colorful clothes, walking barefoot on the sand, living on love and fresh water was a nice interlude but it would not be enough. It wouldn't be enough to forgive his mistakes, nor to erase that look of distrust in her sister's eyes. Never enough to erase the terror she must have felt when he had forced her to live as a wildling, when he had forced her to see her friends die before her eyes, or when he brutally had had her kidnapped in Amonlogia.

" Brother... "

Orca flinched slightly at the words. They were too tender to name the destructive relationship they had had in recent years.

"… You're pale these days. Is something bothering you?" 

The latter shook his head sharply. He didn't want to worry her. It was nothing.

"Everything is fine."

“I hope so," Lykos said, looking away from him.

He would’ve wished to scream, to tear his lungs to evacuate this frustration which rotted in him like a parasite. But how could he admit to her that he knew no way to get to know her again. That he couldn’t risk being close to her again... His heart had been torn anyway when he had realized his wish and his subsequent efforts in order to get closer to his sister, had only pulled them away from each other even more. What were they doing here? They were two strangers who had loved each other. This period was over. What held them here were the chains of nostalgia for their childhood. They were not and could not be for each other, what they had been in the past.

"Forgive me ..." Orca whispered almost imperceptibly.

His sister turned to him, taken aback.

"For what?" 

Her hand automatically came to her heart and grabbed her garment. She didn't like the look her older brother showed when he was losing himself in thought and seemed to slip away from the world, inflicting loneliness on himself even when in good company.

"Big brother, I have already forgiven you" - Lykos' eyes searched tirelessly for his - "When we were on Karkarias. No need to continue torturing your mind”.

Orca lowered his head lower to the ground. He would have liked to disappear.

"Forgive me ... I forgot how to be a good big brother ..."

Lykos' surprise turned into an expression full of reassurance and gentleness. Her fingers found her brother's and she came to press her palm against the back of his hand. The action was confusing for both of them; Lykos felt a shock wave run down her spine and beside her, felt her brother also dumbfounded, his jaw slightly left open. It was neither the cold, nor their frozen skins, nor the rain that had just redoubled in intensity, but suddenly they were shaking. Lykos was the fastest to come back from it.

“I don't think you’ve forgotten. I just think… You're afraid to try again ”.

Orca tried to deny it as his self-esteem would have liked, but he could see deep down that it would do no good. It wasn't the first time he had been told these words. He was hiding his face into the sand and he knew it.

"The Whale is already taking effect, isn't it?", he breathed, the sound of his voice dimming into the wind.

"Yes ... It shows. I can see the emotions on your face ”.

She knew from her own experience that feelings did not flourish in the same way or at the same rate within everyone. In her case, it only took a few days to be able to feel with force her own feelings that the island allowed to release. Although at first it didn't seem like a release, rather a brutal form of torture. Lykos looked at him without further detours now, scrutinizing every detail of his face. His long locks waved in the breeze, revealing the pallid scar and she could see it all; a dozen feelings escaped from a jerky flutter of eyelashes, the curvature of his mouth, the tilting of his head or the slight agitation of his crimson irises. She wasn’t hoping to understand what was going on in her brother's mind. He was probably not suffering as much as she had, he who had occasionally had access to the sarx since he had graduated in the army. This sensation was certainly not that painful since he had been able to feel each of his emotions intensely in his veins during his time on that island. That island ... What was it still called?

"Does ... does that mean your dream has come true?"

Their eyes met and Lykos' heart leaped out of his chest. She was out of breath. If in that moment the earth had cracked in two, taking away everything, she couldn’t have noticed anything other than the flame which ablazed his pupils.

"If your dream came true, then why aren't we happy ...?"

Lykos lowered his lids over his eyes for a second. Something was burning in her chest. Her hand on his squeezed it tighter and intertwined their fingers tightly.

“On Karkarias, I told you that I wanted our minds and hearts to be able to meet. We still need some time, that's what I think. But I am sure of this wish, this time we will succeed. And everything will be ...

-Everything will be as before? You know that's not true ... "

The remorse in his brother's eyes was reflected with the clarity of a window glistening in the sun. The sight was sharp, but Lykos put up with it the best she could. It was hard to tell herself that she could forgive everything, but at the same time, what could she do other than throw herself into the arm of the one she loved most in the world? She felt that the only way she could stand the sight of all this pain because she too was overwhelmed with regret. Regrets that she had not been able to save him, to keep him from becoming that terrifying and dangerously disillusioned man. Remorses that she had been the cause of everything that had happened. If only she hadn't crossed that bridge on that cursed day ... It was the only way she was able to counter those sharp waves of pain cutting like knives through her stomach. Because she was looking into a mirror and seeing the reflection of her mistakes.

"Yes ... Nothing excuses what you did. The others made it clear to you. But you have been used. You had lost everything then, even your reason for living and you were acting on despair. They’ve done terrible things to you more than one would have solved with death. But you did not die. And your remorses will repent you”.

Orca's mouth twisted and his eyes were swollen with water. He refused to cry. It was stupid. It was all he had done since he had arrived, cry.

“Brother... “

The hand holding his fingers was cold. And yet, the one that came to contain his cheek and bring him comfort was warm. It couldn’t resist it, he couldn't continue to keep his distance. Drawing the comfort he was looking for in this gesture of tenderness, he turned to his sister and sagged in her arms. His face was on her neck and her sister's hands held him close to her, pressed against his shoulder blades. Since when had she grown so much?, was a question that vaguely crossed his mind as he tried to lean against her body. He had never noticed ... Maybe because he had always wanted her to stay small, the one he had to protect...

"I wouldn't have wanted you to see this ..."

But their roles were now reversed.

Lykos held him against her, hugging his trembling body as if trying to contain his tears.

"I know. I know it ... But I'm so happy to have seen all of that. Because now I finally understand you. We can finally meet halfway ”.

Orca made a muffled sound and his chest heaved in a jerk. With both his hands he framed his sister's face. Her oh so precious face.

"This man ... This man who held you and Itia captive, who threatened us, Chakuro and me ... He hurt you ... I promise you, I’ll do anything to destroy what is left of him."

Yes, their roles had now reversed, no matter what he would do and no matter how much he wanted to go back. Things were moving forward, whether he chose to take an active part in them... Or let himself be carried by the flow.

"Brother... You know... You still are the person I love most in the world."

But surprisingly, some things never changed. Even after the crossing of Hell. Orca hugged his sister for a long time. As long as she was there he felt alive and also felt their dream was just around the corner. In the thick mist of that macabre day, it was the only thing he could see, this dream glowing would be the lighthouse guiding them.

[naruto-v2]

Obito/Kakashi/Rin - Their Childhood and Tragic end

After his mother died in battle when he was three, Kakashi’s father began training Kakashi to be strong, hoping that he would get strong enough to survive to an older age than her. Like everyone else, he entered the academy at four. By that time, he already knew how to wield a kunai so they put him in grade two. The moment he could read, he took up textbooks instead of children’s books, pushing himself to the limits. He spent every minute of his life training, hoping to make his father proud. His father was his influence, if not on missions, he would be training or spending time with Kakashi. So to be able to give back to him filled Kakashi with a sense of happiness. When he turned five, his father began taking him on missions. Before long, Kakashi graduated at age seven.

Obito first hated Kakashi. He severely damaged Obito’s pride during the annual youth talent show (A secret ploy by the Hokage to seek out potential ANBU members). Obito had been planning to win the silver Kunai to give to Rin for her birthday, and he had practiced his fire show for months. But then a boy showed up at the last moment and used some high tier jutsu. On the playground, he challenged Kakashi to another duel. His friends had laughed at the two, reassuring Obito that he was at least faster than Kakashi. They got to know each other that day, and with Rin, the three became steady friends, their relationship only growing from there. Sometimes, Kakashi would boast of his Father’s deeds and both of them would gush about how Kakashi’s father was their role model and how they aspired to be like him one day. Rin never got close to her other classmates as many of them looked down on her civilian parentage, Kakashi never had a chance to make friends, and Obito, when he was not with the other two, simply preferred to be helping all his grandmother’s friends. As such, it was just them three, and occasionally the green beast guy who dogged Kakashi everywhere.

After the talent show incident, Obito set his sights on becoming stronger. Rin had gone to find Obito to hang out, but his grandmother told her he was out. They both looked at the rain in concern, and Rin promised to find him. She was right to go to the training ground first. Obito was there, eyes squeezed shut and hands clenched together as he tried to stay on the tree. When he heard rustling noises, his concentration broke and he dropped to the ground. Rin threw aside her umbrella in panic, rushing to his side. As she helped him up she asked why he was suddenly training so hard. His grandmother had told her he had been out all day.

Obito rubbed his head, where a bruise was forming. “Sorry about worrying you guys. But I have to work harder if I’m going to catch up to that guy.”

“Kakashi?”

Obito nodded, beaming, “He really is amazing isn’t he. And the White Fang as his father.” Rin smiled at Obito’s enthusiasm.

“Also...” He scratched his cheek, blushing, “I need to be strong enough to protect you in the future.”

A tinge of pink colored her cheeks. “T-then I shall work harder too. So we can all protect each other!”

However, two years later, things changed. After all their moments together- sleepovers, training sessions, and dinners- Obito found it strange that Kakashi started avoiding them. The two had been excited to throw him a party for his passing the chunin exams but he disappeared. Obito had been helping Moriya-obachan deliver her package when he overheard some shinobi whispering in angry voices about Kakashi.

Obito’s eyes widened in shock. They couldn’t be talking about Kakashi… He approached them, eyebrows furrowed, “By ‘Kakashi, are you talking about Kakashi Hatake?”

“He’s pretty nasty right?” Obito’s heart clenched painfully.

The other guy sighed, “We can’t complete a mission with a guy like that.  Even if his teammate is hurt, or is left behind in enemy territory, he doesn’t care.”

Prioritizes… the mission? Obito had a flashback of them eating dinner together at his house, Hatake Sakuno detailing his latest mission. Obito had been quite envious that Kakashi got to go on epic missions with his father’s team while he had to sit through the boring history of Konoha lessons. At the end of his tale, Kakashi had smiled proudly, folding his arms, “That’s right, I’ll save my friends no matter what!”

What had changed?

The next day at the academy, he asked Rin about it.

“Hey… have you talked to Kakashi lately?”

She frowned, “I saw him again yeah but he keeps avoiding me.”

Obito’s face scrunched up in worry, “I heard rumors about him yesterday. They weren’t good rumors. Do you know if something happened?”

She shook her head. They had tried to visit his house, but there was nobody there.

Obito painstakingly tracked Kakashi down the next few days, finally finding him sitting by the water’s edge. His face brightened as he scrambled up to him, “Hey Kakashi! How’s it going?”

When Kakashi didn’t answer, Obito asked in a gentler voice, “Hey, did something happen? If something’s on your mind...”

“I’m not so desperate that I need you to worry about me.” His tone was flat as he walked past Obito. “Leave me alone.”

Obito reached out a hand as Kakashi receded into the distance. What… Why is he acting this way? We’re friends… aren’t we?

For graduation, Rin decided to join Obito in a team rather than become a medic as most of the other girls did.

Up until they became a team, Kakashi kept up his walls, pretending as if Obito and Rin never meant anything to him. On the training field, waiting for Obito, RIn tried once again to get through to her friend.

“Kakashi.. Please just talk to us… You have no idea how worried we are, how upset Obito is. He…”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” Kakashi interrupted. Rin gazed at him, knowing that there was something he was not saying. Obito came thirty minutes late, glaring at Kakashi before taking his place next to Rin. After their first D rank mission, a huge success due to Obito, Rin cried out that she could not take it anymore. She asked them to forgive each other, to join hands in harmony, for the sake of their friendship. Obito looked at Kakashi, it was not as if he had a grudge against him.

Kakashi turned away, “I’m not doing it.”

Obito looked the other way too, huffing. Fine then.

Rin sighed as she took one of their hands in hers. “Then… I’ll connect the both of you.” She smiled brightly, filling both of the boys with warmth.

Seeing as they were taking up all the D-missions and leaving no work for other genin, the Sixth Hokage sent them on low- C-rank missions. On one of them, they were betrayed by their escorts. The one who had the real scroll had dropped into the lake below. Obito refused to leave unless he was able to save the person. When an enemy stole the scroll, Kakashi chased after it. Obito followed in pursuit. Minato, once again, saved them.

Minato’s head ached because these two, heading off to uphold their individual principles. It was lucky they got out alive with so many enemies. He hated to break it to them, but sometimes, you had to consider the situation and be willing to see if an action is worth it. That was what it meant to be a jonin.

The aftermath of the Third Shinobi war was Konoha victory and new territory, cutting into the Land of Rain and Land of Grass. On that end of the country, there was suddenly a surge of murders on the farmers and new settlers. When those two territories, bitter by the loss of power, refused any treaties, Konoha decided the best way to stop this persecution was to wage another war on them. Their Ally, Earth Country joined into the fight soon after.

Kannabi bridge mission:

During one of their fights, Rin was kidnapped. Kakashi knew that this was not an option of which to do first but which to do at all. Time was of the essence here. Success would mean Konoha advantage in the war, but Rin could die. Failure would mean living with the shame and possible economic hardships for Konoha in the future. He picked success.

“The two of us need to carry on the mission ourselves.”

“You’re still on about that nonsense?” Obito stood his ground, unwilling to follow Kakashi.

Kakashi gritted his teeth. “You don’t understand.”

“So you’ll abandon Rin after all that we’ve been through together? Three years, Kakashi! Hell of a friend you are.” Obito spat out. He pushed past Kakashi to leave. Before he could take off, Kakashi grabbed his wrist.

“The mission is crucial to the war. They need information so they won’t kill her right away. We can worry about Rin later.” Kakashi kept eye contact with Obito, hoping that he gets the message. 

Obito ripped his arm from his grasp, “Sure, those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Kakashi clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white as he watched Obito head in the opposite direction. He knew this was the wrong choice, but Obito would not be able to defeat them. He could not just stand by and let his friends die. He chose failure instead and bounded after Obito.

Kakashi got there in time to defend Obito from an incoming attack, damaging his eye in the process.

Yet, all their efforts went to waste when the roof collapsed inward and crushed Obito. He gave Kakashi his intact eye, making him promise to protect Rin with it.

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Pokemon Sword And Shield: Ace’s trials

Chapter 1: “A smile that stretches a MIL-E-o!”

Ace ran out of the house, panic flooding his systems. No. No, no, no, no, no!!!! Why’d he have to snap at Wooloo?!? Winter would be so sad if she came home and Wooloo was missing! Ace ran off, tripping over his own feet sometimes, looking around for Wooloo. He eventually settled on checking in the pasture; other Wooloo, maybe it went there! “Wooloo?!? WOOLOO?!? Where did you go?!?” Ace called out, panicking.

Ace was gulping down air like it was ice cold root beer on a hot summer day as he ran through the pasture. “Wooloo?!? Bud, come on, where did you go?!?” Ace called out, starting to tear up. Ace rubbed the tears away from his eyes. “Wooloo, I’m sorry…! Just please come back…!” Ace hiccuped.

Ace’s eyes stung as tears started falling down his face. “I’m an adult now, I shouldn’t-*HIC*-I shoul-I shouldn’t be-I shouldn’t be crying about a dumb Wooloo running off…!” Ace sniffled.

Ace flinched as a hand gently landed on his shoulder. “Is everything okay, Acey?” Milo asked. Ace turned away, wiping the tears away.

“Heya, Mi..! I-I’m fine, just lookin’ for Wooloo is all..!” Ace lied. Milo smiled softly.

“It’s okay to be upset, Acey! I can help ya find ‘em if ya want!” Milo offered.

“I….Are ya sure..?” Ace asked. Milo nodded.

“I can ask my herd if they’ve seen them!” Milo offered. Ace nodded eagerly.

“Yes please..! Wooloo means so much to my sister and I don’t want her to be mad at me for losing them..!” Ace accepted. Milo nodded, gesturing for Ace to follow, Ace doing so swiftly.

Milo called his Wooloo herd over and they came quickly. “Okay guys, listen up! We need to find a Wooloo! One ya guys don’t know personally, but it belongs to Acey here!” Milo announced. Milo turned to Ace. “Did they have anything to make them stand out?” He asked.

“O-Oh! Well, they have a uh...Blue uh….Um….Bandana!” Ace answered. Milo nodded.

“So keep an eye out for a Wooloo wearing a BLUE BANDANA!” Milo announced. The Wooloo herd nodded, speeding off to go search when they were dismissed.

Ace shifted nervously, eyes filled up to the brim with worry, tensing up slightly when Milo put a hand on his shoulder, but relaxing when he saw it was Milo.

“It’ll be okay, I promise!” Milo smiled. Ace smiled back half-heartedly.

“I know, I’m just...worried that Winter will get home before I do with Wooloo…” Ace winced. Milo frowned slightly.

“Ace, what are you?” Milo asked.

“What…?” Ace asked, confused.

“Ace. What. Are. You.” Milo repeated.

“Uh….A Pokemon trainer…?” Ace replied in confusion.

“What class of trainer?” Milo asked.

“Uh…….G-Gym Leader…” Ace replied shyly.

“And what do we Gym Leaders do for each other?” Milo asked seriously.

Ace sniffled, rubbing his face. “L-Look out for each other…” Ace hiccuped.

“Exactly! And I can walk Wooloo home with you in case Winter gets home before you find Wooloo so I can explain!” Milo smiled. Ace smiled, feeling assured that it would turn out okay.

“But,” Milo started. “In order to do so, I need to know what happened. Want to talk about it over some tea?” Milo offered.

“Oh, uh, sure!” Ace replied, surprised.

(About an hour and a half later.)

“And that’s when I ran off to find her, and now here we are…” Ace explained. Milo nodded, finishing taking a drink of his tea.

“I see. Wooloo wanted to help, but you didn’t need it and it kept bothering you, trying to help, and you accidentally lost your temper.” Milo nodded.

“It’s such a stupid mistake...I shoulda known that Wooloo is more sensitive…!” Ace groaned.

Milo scowled. “Ace, shame on you! It’s not your fault! Not entirely!” Milo set his mug down.

“But I yelled at it…” Ace whimpered.

“Yes, but that is a reasonable reaction!” Milo scolded.

“I dunno...What if it never comes back because it hates me…?” Ace asked.

Milo froze, dumbfounded. He knew Ace’s self hatred was bad, but never THIS horrible. “Ace, bug, no…! I’m sure Wooloo would LOVE to come home with you…!” Milo soothed.

Ace rubbed tears out of the corner of his eyes. “But I-*HIC*-I-I-I-I-I yelled at it…! I made it-*HIC*-I made it sad…!” Ace sniffled.

Milo got up, walking over and pulling Ace into a hug. “It’s okay, we’ll find them…” Milo hummed.

Ace’s limbs fell limp as he melted into the hug. “Milo, bud, can I...ask you a question…?” Ace asked.

“What’s up, bug?” Milo asked.

“A lot of people tend to not go to my gym and opt for others to take my badge’s place…” Ace started nervously.

“Okay…?” Milo asked, confused.

“Would...Would anyone care if I just...wasn’t around anymore…?” Ace asked, tears welling up in his eyes. Milo froze, feeling like time followed suit.

“Ace, bug, of course people would care!” Milo fretted.

Ace fell silent.

“People care about you, Ace! I know it seems like that’s not true since people skip out on your gym, but that could just mean that they believe that you’re too powerful to take on!” Milo encouraged.

“But what if it’s not that…?” Ace asked, tears spilling down his face.

“Then they’re…...They’re…” Milo started.

“They’re bugger all!” Milo blurted out. Ace froze in shock. This was unusual for Milo to speak in such a way.

“Milo…” Ace faltered.

“If they say that you’re bugger all, then they’re a bunch of minging plastered Chavs is what they are!!” Milo declared. Ace’s eyes sparkled like a pair of Amethysts left out in the rain.

“I…….” Ace trailed off.

“If anyone gives you any trouble and doesn’t seem to be letting up, give me a bell and I’ll be there in two shakes of a Wooloo’s tail! You can bet on it!” Milo insisted.

Ace was taken aback, aside from Winter, he’d never really had anyone who had his back-in such a passionate way, too! “I...Thank you Mi…” Ace stuttered. Milo smiled.

“Us Gym leaders gotta look out for each other, right?” Milo chuckled. The two were interrupted by a Wooloo running in and tugging at Milo’s shorts, asking him to follow.

“Whoa, what is it, Maple?” Milo asked. Maple tugged at his shorts again, bleating in urgency.

Milo got up, grabbing his backpack and following Maple.

“Slow down, Maple!! I can only go so fast!!” Milo called. Maple bleated in concern and urgency, stopping by a cliff’s edge.

“Why’d ya bring us out here, girl?” Milo asked, patting her head.

“Meee!!!!” Maple bleated nervously.

Milo looked down the edge, seeing that it led to a crevice that spanned across most of the pasture. “Wait, what’s that down there…?” Milo asked, straining to see what was at the bottom.

Ace looked with Milo, eyes shrinking as realization hit. “SKYLAR?!?” Ace cried out. The shape moved slightly, followed by a weak bleat.

“Oh my-bug, is that your Wooloo?!” Milo asked, panicking slightly.

“Yeah, I don’t know how she got down there!!” Ace panicked.

“Does she have a pokeball?” Milo asked.

Ace shook his head no. “No, we always assumed that she would stay put!!” Ace panicked. Milo thought of how to help Skylar get out.

“How can we get her out…?” Milo hummed. Ace looked around in Milo’s bag, finding a chord of rope.

“Here!” Ace said, holding it out.

“How’s she gonna grab on?” Milo asked. Ace frowned, before getting another plan.

“Maybe that’ll work..!” Ace hummed.

Milo looked over, seeing Ace tying it around his waist.

“Oh! That’s genius, Acey!” Milo beamed. Ace nodded.

“Okay, are you and Wooloo able to lower me down slowly?” Ace asked. Milo nodded.

“Yeah, Wooloo is known for being gentle!” Milo smiled. Ace nodded, slowly getting lowered down.

Ace touched the ground, slipping slightly but ignoring the pain, and he walked over to Skylar. “Hey bud, it’s okay, I won’t hurt ya…” Ace said softly. Skylar got up, limping over.

Ace took a look at Skylar’s leg, seeing that it got scraped and broken on the way down. “IS SKYLAR OKAY?!?” Milo called.

“NO, IT LOOKS LIKE SHE BROKE HER LEG!!” Ace called back.

“OKAY, I’M GONNA GO GET THE FIRST AID KIT WHILE MAPLE AND THE OTHER WOOLOOS PULL YOU BACK UP!!” Milo called.

“OKAY!!!” Ace called back. Ace picked up Skylar. “OKAY, I’M READY, GUYS!!” Ace called. Ace and Skylar slowly started getting pulled up.

Maple walked backwards, slowly pulling Ace and Skylar up, jumping as she felt a tiny electric zap hit the back of her leg. Maple turned around, spotting a Yamper, running off as the Yamper started chasing after her.

Ace shrieked as he started plummeting down at a fast speed, putting himself on bottom, preparing for impact with the cold, hard, stone floor of the crevice.

A snap sound was heard as the rope stopped falling just before Ace and Skylar could hit the ground. Ace opened his left eye, looking around him. “Is this the new world…?” Ace asked.

“Good catch, Obstagoon, now pull them up!” A voice commanded. Ace’s eyes shrank as he registered who the voice belonged to.

Soon, Ace was back up at the top with Skylar and he placed her down on the grass, settling down on the cool wet grass as soon as he could.

“Are you two okay? I’m lucky I got here when I did.” The voice said. Ace nodded.

“Yeah, we’re fine...Oh! Except for Skylar, I think she broke her leg..!” Ace panted.

He nodded his head. “Understood. Scrafty, go retrieve Milo. Tell him that Ace and Skylar are back at the top, safe and sound, okay?” He asked. Scrafty nodded, speeding off.

“Thanks for the help...I was almost an electric type gym leader pancake…” Ace sighed in relief.

“No problem, Ace. Us Gym Leaders gotta stick together, ya know?” He asked.

“Yeah…” Ace nodded. Milo came running into view, Scrafty hurrying behind.

“Acey, are you okay?! Is Skylar okay?!” Milo asked, worrying heavily.

Ace nodded. “All thanks to-” Ace started.

“Piers, yeah, he came by earlier today-just before you came by searching for Skylar-Said he needed me to find a recipe for a curry to help soothe an upset stomach for a Morpeko!” Milo nodded.

“I swear, that thing eats more than it should and KNOWS the outcome each and EVERY time…” Piers sighed.

Ace went to get up before wincing out loud and falling back down. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Piers asked.

Ace remembered back, hand darting to his right ankle, wincing as he made contact. “Oh, Bloody-” Ace stopped himself. “Heck…!” Ace corrected.

“Sounds like a sprained ankle to me.” Piers shrugged.

“Nah, it’s nothing, I’m fine, it’s just-I just got up too quickly…!” Ace denied. Piers’ eyelids drooped in a “B*tch, really?” sorta way.

“Alright. Stand up straight, putting ALL OF YOUR WEIGHT onto that ankle then.” Piers said. Ace’s eyes widened. “Well? Go on then. If you’re fine, as you so claim, go ahead and put all of your weight onto that one ankle.” Piers quipped.

“I...No! That’s a dumb idea!” Ace retaliated.

“So you admit you’re injured?” Piers raised an eyebrow.

“No! I’m fine!” Ace declined.

“So what’s wrong then? Scared?” Piers asked, crossing his arms.

“No, I just...don’t feel like it right now is all!” Ace snapped. Piers sighed.

“We can head back and then see if you’re ‘okay’.” Piers said, making air quotes as he said okay.

Ace shook his head no. “I’m fine right down here, thank you very much!” Ace peeped. Piers rolled his eyes, picking him up bridal style and carrying him back. “Hey! I can walk, ya know!” Ace objected.

“No, ya can’t, ya big baby.” Piers frowned.

(Inside.)

“Yeah, that’s a sprained ankle if ever I’ve seen one.” Milo nodded.

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Piers asked.

“Okay, sprained ankle, so what? I can still do stuff!” Ace shrugged.

“No. You need to keep off that ankle as much as possible until it’s fully healed.” Piers denied.

“But the Pokemon League starts tomorrow…! I can’t skip out again!” Ace frowned.

“I’m sure that if we explain, it’ll be okay!” Milo comforted.

“Who says ya need to miss the opening ceremony?” Piers asked.

Milo and Ace turned to look at him, confused. “I...Can’t walk, dude...How do I get there?” Ace asked.

“You recovered your Wooloo today, yeah?” Piers asked.

“Are you suggesting-” Ace started.

“No, I’m saying that if your very livelihood depends on you making it to the next opening ceremony, you need to have a ride pokemon, and you just rescued one.” Piers said frankly.

“Wait...But could it support my weight?” Ace asked. Milo nodded swiftly.

“Yeah! Wooloos are VERY strong pokemon! That’s why I use them as assistants for my farm work!” Milo approved.

“What, do I just saddle up Skylar, day of the opening ceremony and just ride in with flying colors?” Ace scoffed. The room went dead silent.

“Actually, Yes. Spot on.” Piers said seriously. Ace’s jaw dropped.

“Where would I get a saddle anyways?!” Ace asked.

“I have some spares!” Milo beamed.

“Oh, this is actually happening.” Ace gawked.

“Ya can’t skip out again, remember?” Piers smirked.

Ace’s face heated up. “There’s no way it’ll work…!” Ace sighed.

“Oh, there’s EVERY way that it’ll work.” Piers grinned.

“But I’ll look silly!” Ace whimpered.

“Ya got any better ideas?” Piers asked, leaning against the wall behind him.

“YES! ANYTHING BUT THAT!” Ace blurted out.

“Well, I always have a mudbray you could ri-” Milo started.

“Wooloo works fine.” Ace said blankly.

Milo grinned. “Wooloo it is, then!”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Piers smirked.

“What, at home?” Ace asked sarcastically.

“Nah. In person.” Piers snarked. Ace’s face heated up, turning a bright red.

“What…?!” Ace wheezed.

“Yeah, I’m turning up in person this year.” Piers smirked.

“Of course, the ONE YEAR I’m going with a sprained ankle!” Ace wheezed.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Milo smiled.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of it…!” Ace groaned.

“It’ll be fine, you big baby!” Milo smiled.

“I hope so…” Ace sighed.

“Now then,” Milo said, getting up. “Let’s getcha home, yeah?” Milo said, clapping a hand onto Ace’s shoulder. Ace nodded, standing up before he was headbutted onto his bum. 

“Hey! What the-” Ace started, looking up and seeing Skylar in front of him. Ace nodded, using Skylar as a walking assist.

(Timeskip.)

“Lights are on...That means Winter’s home...” Ace winced.

“I’ll explain, don’t worry, bug!” Milo beamed. Ace went up and unlocked the door, hobbling inside.

“Bro-Bro, there you are! I’ve been worried sick!” Winted whimpered, hugging Ace tightly.

“I’m fine, sis...!” Ace wheezed, getting the air knocked out of him.

“Where were you?!” Winter asked.

“Excuse me? Winter?” Milo asked gently. Winter looked at Milo.

“Yeah?” Winter asked.

“Sorry about intruding, but your brother got hurt today, so he’s going to need to borrow Skylar tomorrow for the opening ceremony for the pokemon league, is that alright with you?” Milo asked gently. Winter nodded.

“Yes! If it helps my best big bro, it’s fine by me!” Winter allowed.

“Wonderful! Thank you so much!” Milo smiled.

“Why’d he get hurt?” Winter asked. Milo explained what happened and Winter hugged Ace tightly afterwards. “Oh, big bro...! You didn’t have to hurt yourself for Skyla...!” Winter squeaked.

“I didn’t want ya to get mad at me, sis...” Ace frowned.

“Well, you take the rest of the night off! I can handle everything else!” Winter said.

“Oh No.” Ace gulped.

(Tag list, feel free to ask to be removed or added!): @bccfggffbgv, @new-account-sam-christy-456, @anaanswersstuff

[jessiohhh]

One of my best friends @ahufflepuffhobbit tagged me in this long list of things to help us get to know each other, and I’m just so glad to learn more things about her! So I’m going to tag @the-angry-pixie, @s-s-georgie, and @purebloodqueen (and anyone else who wants to join in!) with no pressure to these three to actually complete this! It’s long.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? I’m a pen snob. I prefer black G2 pens, but I’ll also write with blue or make notes with red on paper copies of reports and things (just so I can feel like a professional at some point in my life). I don’t mind the colors so much as I mind the pen. G2 only for my personal life (bic when I know the pens will be stolen).

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I lived in Boston for 4 years, and I liked some parts of it. Now I live in a smaller city outside of Boston (around 100k people) and I love it here, but the art scene and the queer spaces are ample and I really like my job.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? Outside of becoming a better writer, I really want to learn how to cook better and do better food presentations so I can make a “food blog” and become famous for learning how to cook better and teaching people how to cook better.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Yes, I just do a regular regular (2 cream, 2 sugar) for coffee, but for tea I prefer honey.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? Under 5, I read The Cay with my dad and loved it. Under 8, I read Goodnight, Mr. Tom, a book about a child evacuee from London which got me started on my WWII history obsession. Under 10, I became obsessed with The Outsiders (which is still my favorite book to this day). Under 13, The Only Alien on the Planet. Under 15, Harry Potter (unfortunately, the author has ruined the series for me). Under 18, I fell in love with this book about a young teen dad, and I’ve never been able to find the book again.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I’m totally a baths person, but no tubs are quite the right fit, so when I’m rich and famous I’m getting myself a soaker tub and I will live in that damn thing (I have dreams that my grandmother had a soaker tub--which she did--that she never used--which she didn’t--but I would sneak into her house to use her soaker tub--which unfortunately never happened. Can you tell how stressed I am by nature? I just need a soaker tub with a bath bomb and like 4 hours to myself).

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Hmm... I just want to be your average garden variety hedge witch. 

8. Paper or electronic books? Either/or. I suck at reading these days. I just don’t have the attention span. Give me a book and I’ll probably only read half regardless of electronic or paper. (#badwriter, #readmore)

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? I quite like capri leggings. They’re my typical go-to wardrobe choice. 

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I don’t feel like Jessica really fits me that much anymore, but I’m comfortable with Jess.

11. Who is a mentor to you? I would classify one of my college professors, but she just “unfriended” me on facebook because of differing viewpoints (neither are wrong, but her view of what I was saying wasn’t accurate). So I might be in the market for a new mentor.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? Sure, in some regards, I suppose. A part of me has always wanted to be “famous” but really I’d just take my 15 minute spotlight and be happy with that. I’d really like to be on one of those cooking competition shows (only a nice British TV one, not an American one), or I’d like to have fans on youtube and have a really cool youtube channel, or I’d like to be a writer with some really good books published... or even just a child development theorist. Whatever. Gimme my 15 minutes!

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Relatively, yes. I’m up to pee, to toss and turn, with nightmares. I’m someone who talks in their sleep and who thinks that their dreams are happening in the waking world--so I respond verbally to things dream characters say.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? I think I’m a romantic at heart, but I have few people to express that side with.

15. Which element best represents you? My sign is water, but I’m definitely more fire.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I don’t really have anyone that I’m afraid of being close to, but I wouldn’t mind having a datemate. Find me someone to fit that role, please.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? I think a part of me will always miss my brother, and I’m close to my mother but prefer that we have a bit of space between us (we’re too similar). I think there’s this thing where you miss things you’ve never had, because I totally miss feeling part of a close knit friend group.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. I played alone as a kid a lot, and in my backyard we had a swing set that I would play on a lot. There were horses in the field beside the back yard, and a donkey in the field behind it and in the woods on the other side of the house were a bunch of feral cats. I remember swinging on the swings and hearing something make a god awful sound that I had never heard before (and it sounded really close to me) and I remember panicking and running straight for the house. My dad told his version of the story; he looked out and saw me, eyes wide as saucers, pale as a sheet, running in as fast as my little legs could carry me. 

Admittedly, this is also the house where I’m pretty sure I saw aliens peeking in my bedroom window, so was it supernatural or just an animal? I’ll never know.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? I’m down to eat almost anything; I ate a baby octopus once, and didn’t really like it. It was too spicy and too chewy.

20. What are you most thankful for? The job I have; I feel incredibly supportive by my supervisor and incredibly thankful to have such wonderful families I get to support every day.

21. Do you like spicy food? I used to... and then I became too white.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? I once spoke on the phone with Hal Sparks (a friend was at a comedy show of his and called me in the middle of the night so he could say hello to me). I’ve also brushed past a few other people while in New York City or in Florida, but nothing super memorable. 

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? I try to, but then I forget for a year and then I write a page that’s like “well this has happened in the last year.” and I do that every year I keep the physical journal. Sometimes I do write down tarot interpretations and things like that as they pertain to my life at the time.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? Mostly pens. Occasionally pencils, but mostly pens. 

25. What is your star sign? Cancer

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Ew. Crunchy. Who eats soggy cereal?

27. What would you want your legacy to be? I want to be able to continue supporting families even after I’ve gone... through a foundation or through a child developmental theory book... we’ll see.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I enjoy reading, but I’m pretty sure I have an undiagnosed case of ADHD, and I’ve been chasing the high of going into hyperfocus ever since I was a child--I haven’t stayed up all night reading since my teens and I miss that.

29. How do you show someone you love them? I’m very much a words of affirmation sort of person, and a quality time person. Gimme a day out with a friend or someone I care about and I’ll compliment who they are as a person about 800 times, and if you give me a task to do, I’ll love you forever.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Yeah, I’m an ice cruncher.... I know it’s bad, but it’s so good.

31. What are you afraid of? I don’t have a lot of fears, but I think fear that my mom would pass unexpectedly is a big one. I don’t know how I’d get through life without her support and guidance. I also fear panic attacks (not the triggers themselves, but the panic attacks that I have every now and again).

32. What is your favourite scent? I have this incense called Opium that I love... I also love the smell right as it starts to rain, the ocean, sometimes sunny days have a really nice smell too... 

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? I don’t typically say people’s names, but if I have to address someone, I’ll usually say, “Ma’am or sir” until they tell me to call them by their first names.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I mean, honestly, I’d still be doing the same thing, but I’d be considering buying my own house and having a kid... two of the things I really want but can not afford right now.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? I prefer to be in the water at the ocean as compared to a pool (the chlorine kills me), but if I’m going to swim I prefer to do that in a pool... because I don’t trust myself to swim in the ocean--I don’t have enough experience to be a confident ocean swimmer even though I’m a fairly good swimmer in general.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? Look around to see if anyone has lost it, but then pocket it. Maybe I’d hand it off to a homeless person or someone who looks in need, but that’s me being optimistic that I’d do that.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yeah, I drove through the Pleiades meteor shower one year, and saw about 15 shooting stars in 10 minutes. I also stood on top of Mount Lee in Hollywood (where the hollywood sign sits) and saw a shooting star there. Once I was up in Maine and laying in the grass with some friends and saw a shooting star there too... you just have to be in a place that’s dark enough, and it’s likely you’ll see some flaming space trash crash into the earth.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I would like to have children to teach them, but I’m worried that won’t happen because $$ and society suck. But I really try to teach the children that I love in my life how to be a good, kind, person, and how to treat others with respect. I try to teach consent early and often. I try to teach loving yourself as you are and how you are, and that who you are is deserving of love, no matter what happens in your life. I try to teach them that they are not perfect (no one is), but that you can amend your actions and make reparations to the people you have harmed with your actions, and that even though you have made a mistake as long as you are taking steps to correct your mistake you are a good person and always worthy of love. 

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? I already have them, but I would like more. But again... $$.

40. What can you hear now? The roomba just turned on. It’s definitely time for bed.

41. Where do you feel the safest? In my room, in my home.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Feeling unworthy of love.

43. Of you could travel back to any era, what would it be? I’m not really interested anymore in going back into previous times... the past was only idealistic to white people, and people of color have had a shitty time in every era so I’m good. Take me to a time when racism is done and then we’ll talk.

44. What is your most used emoji? the crying laughing cat face

45. Describe yourself using one word. Intense.

46. What do you regret the most? I don’t know that I have a lot of regrets. I regret when people misinterpret what I mean when I say something that wasn’t explained well. I regret individuals who have exited my life that have chosen to do so of their own volition. But they aren’t things that I had a lot of control over, so I don’t regret them very much.

47. Last movie you saw? Hamilton. I quite appreciated being able to see it finally.

48. Last tv show you watched? I watch a lot of paranormal tv... just because it’s something to put on... actually I fall asleep to a lot of paranormal tv. If I were to see a ghost, I probably wouldn’t react that much because I just sleep through the weird shit they do on tv, so... what up ghost?

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. I don’t tend to invent words... I do like putting words together in new ways though and telling different stories. Maybe I’ll do that sometime.

[gooseandgoat]

SORTING

June 16, 2000—we heard the echo of a meadowlark.

Let go the meadowlark and the valley in which its song           repeated itself and the valley in which its song unfolded.

Let go the dream of such clear sound.

Let go the walks, dinners, drinks, talks, senses of beginnings, let go            the beginnings, we will never begin again.

Let go the still gray sky. It has propped us up long enough.

Let go the nights.

Let go the voice that answered me in earnest in all things I find            I can no longer imagine it.

Imagine the rents in the driveway cement from the rain that pooled            and stayed and the way the cement buckled wildly in the years that followed            and the years that followed in which no one came to the door.

You came to the door and said my name and the whole weathered mess            glowed beneath the afternoon’s hanging clouds and weeds            grew in blunt stalks from the cracks.

Who would you change for?

The maples change more in an hour of wind than we change.

The aspens shatter light I have felt the leaves in their wind-glittering                                                                    strangeness. Let go

the town and its dry river paths the white bellies of the swallows            under the bridge flashing in the last minutes of dusk and I knew I could not            continue as I had been nor did I sense a course.

Who are your friends.

What do you care for.

What would you give up if you could give up            anything. When were you afraid there is no extreme need that is not                          warped by fear. What does the world

           require of you have you loved the time you have spent here.                          Was it because of the people with you. Or that the silence

was never silence it was always the fan’s white noise in the window            at night and below that the new rain on the grass            and below that the grass as it bends under the water            and night buried under the water and the town            at night under rain and grateful for rain in this dry season.

*

There and not there like the wind in the yard.

There and not there in a smile that is not         itself but a thought in a far country and a brush                          of the shoulder that in a single minute means

everything. Everything you have said in support and questioned.         In support of love that unfolds where one least                          imagines it for example a year of endings.

A white shirt. A shoelace a razor. A pacing in the hallways at night         like the steady lines of bicycles fanning across flat green fields.

The shadow of an airplane over the field or that shadow         as it ripples over a building through the thick windless         heat. Are you paying attention         to what passes through you.

                                    Through you I came to see a better life but cannot account for why I have not always         lived it.

A polite vagueness in the Good bye! and Good luck!

Goodbye to the laughter I love I did not keep it close enough.

Goodbye to the mind that moves along walls and roads its un-        ceasing spirit I wish I were always in its path.

To the boys playing soccer at five in the leafy park goodbye         their gamesmanship goodbye                          goodbye to the gravel they scattered the ground                          they scuffed the houses they return to, may they always have homes.

Goodbye to the busses and the poppies that flew                          past us behind bus-windows in deep red-orange-dotted-         smudges and the edgeless fields where you                          walked when I wasn’t                          there, with you, in your head,                          where you walked, were you                          alone, were there                          fields, how alone                          were you. How

alone can anyone stand to be. Any one of us might be         tapped any one lead away when that day                          comes will you be                          ready. Will you be prepared for what you                          have not said.

Will you know what you love.

*

To have been alone together is to have been         alone within an         illusion. Step into a dream         of life its tapwater and shoes its         coffee-cups paper-clips sheets the white light that backs every curtain every room casually shared every question will you help me with this I will help you.

Step into a life that is not         dreamed and try to say now if there are         remnants of illusion. Is what you say every day real. Are the lesser estrangements         deeper and if so how much can you bear and if not         what will convince you.

Does the sparrow on the t.v. antenna convince you—it is there every day.

Every day the sun hits the red roofs of the village where you lived         and every evening the swifts dive through the crooked stone streets chasing         bugs we cannot see. The birds rose level with our torsos on the terrace and whistled         their strong eerie whistle I heard it each morning a lone swift                          veering past our bedroom window.

The rains rose and fell through the winter and the spring rose and the beating summer         arrived. The birds arrived         each night and often we took the stairs                          to the terrace after dinner to watch their black bodies in hundreds rise and spike and dive, each in its own private         depth, sharp hap-         hazard wing-splitting                          rolls. As if there were hundreds of separate skies.

*

So that nothing will ever again be for us what it was.

The long walk to the grocery store in noon-white         heat. The men standing immobile at boule, murmuring with the toss.

Constant church bells, the apple you set on the counter to eat,         the shake of a head saying no. Let go

the bistro the woman by the creek the disease.         Notes, letters, poems strung word-to-word.

Let go the young girl walking toward a building at the end of a long city-         sidewalk I see she is looking         toward someone there in the highest window her mother or a tutor                          watching her child and neither one of them

needs to wave. Had I been able to read the signs, had you been able         to speak more clearly, had I         noticed, not         assumed, had you come to me         in understanding linking need to         need, had I         heard you, had you         spoken, I heard, as you         said the words, the harder         course, you         insisted, nor         have you always         lived it, persist, and cannot any longer         pass lightly over         anything. You came to me                          in understanding and brought with you the need of a whole life,

having for months looked elsewhere, the streets of the town after midnight,         a nullity in each livingroom’s blue t.v., letters         to others, drought         in the mind drought in the neighborhood         grass. Certain         you would always be there.         Certain you would follow. The night’s

hours in talk and the paths our thoughts took         together. The dust-choked house and its un-utterable shag carpet         or the blue house and all the passing cars stranded in its         snowbanks the bitter arguments sweet reprieves the funny         Midwestern meals you cooked the mountain ash years without cigarettes         heaps of sweaters dishes the fire         in the kitchen the purple         kitchen. The absurd red car your mother gave us,         the books we wrote, sentences we took out,         pencil in the margins your shrinking         penmanship new shoes your smile the one that         seizes at what’s         real. The laundry the prosody. The refusals         the constant generosities every desperate apology.         You have to hold it in mind all at once.         You have to need it enough.

*

If I let go what will be left. Too hard         to sort each sorrow from each joy

        and why, instead of answering, we passed into silence.         Clear, deep green, like a lake we’ve never been to

and stood at its blue edge-grass and felt nothing, like sunlight,         as it moved across our faces, slow                          warmth, amber-

white, and when it passed we didn’t                                     know. But we stayed.