#so I’ve added extra food and water dishes to other rooms of the house

[sidetongue]

I’m defs a dog person and i spend a lot of my time ensuring my dogs have full and enriched lives, and then I just vibe with my cats as if they are lil housemates. But lately I’ve been dedicating a lot of time to webinars and reading material on how to be a good cat mum and my cats are really benefiting from what I’m learning!!! I bought this tall cat tree that reaches the roof and Figgy feels safe enough to come and hang out with everybody in the living area because she can now be up high. Isn’t she cute!!

Also bonus pic, here she is passive aggressively waiting for bed time. She is a total bed hog

[bumbleklee]

trying to induce labor

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

pairings: diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli x female!reader (separate)

warnings: pregnancy (so close to baby)

diluc

As the days drew closer, you were getting more and more anxious to get the twins out of you. Not only was your belly huge with both babies, it was causing you a lot of pain. Fed up from another sleepless night of twisting and turning, you put your sneakers on first thing in the morning and waddled to the front door.

“Where are you off to?” Diluc asked, raising his eyes from the paperwork he was completing at the dining room table.

“Your children have overstayed their welcome.” You grabbed a jacket and slipped it over your arms, letting the front hang open since you were too big to zipper it. “I’m going to do laps around The Winery.”

Diluc was by your side now, “Is that safe?”

“Walking in the most effective way to induce labor,” You told him, “But if you’re worried, you can join me.”

Your husband slipped his own sneakers on instantly.

Diluc held your hand as you walked the property line of The Winery. Your feet began aching right away but you pushed through, needing to at least try this method of inducing labor. The thought about meeting your babies finally gave you a rush of adrenaline and you walked for thirty minutes before your body began showing restraint.

When you stopped to lean against a nearby tree, Diluc was in front of you with a concerned look on your face. You rubbed your belly and tried to catch your breath, feeling sweat drip down your forehead.

“Is it happening?” He asked, a hint of excitement rubbing off on his tone.

You shook your head, “I just need a break.”

Diluc held back the frown trying to creep on his face. Like you, he just wanted to meet the twins as well. “Can you make it back to the house?”

You glanced up to look at the house. It wasn’t too far, just past the vineyard, but your throbbing back was a good enough reminder for you to take it easy. “I’m afraid I’m going to fall,” You admitted sheepishly, “Maybe we should just stay here for a while.”

“Nonsense,” Diluc said. Before you could recognize what was going on, Diluc had lifted you off your feet and was carrying you bridal style. Upon seeing your bewildered expression at lifting both you and your babies, Diluc continued. “I’ve been working out for a reason.”

kaeya

Kaeya couldn’t cook. He tried, he really did, but time after time dinner ended with take out. So when you suggested trying spicy foods to help induce labor, Kaeya knew this would be a job for someone else.

You watched intently as Noelle leaned over the stove in your kitchen. The smell of spices and flavorful armonas filled your house and your stomach rumbled everytime a waft came near you. Her eyes glanced between the open cookbook beside her and the boiling pot of something on a burner.

“Sit, sit,” Noelle instructed poliety, “Dinner’s almost ready.” You made Kaeya set the table as you and your husband sat down. Noelle finished up in the kitchen before she brought over a serving bowl and placed it in the middle of the table.

“What is it?” Kaeya asked. He peered over the bowl and, like yours, his stomach growled in anticipation. “It smells great.”

“It's a spicy stew but I added some extra Jieyun Chili peppers. Barbara gave me the recipe.” Noelle smiled sweetly and poured some of the stew in Kaeya and yours’ bowls before serving herself. When Kaeya opted out in cooking your spicy dish, he immediately ran to Noelle who had no problem serving you dinner.

Kaeya thanked Noelle before digging into his meal. You hesitantly watched Kaeya, knowing how he couldn’t handle spicy food, and almost burst out laughing when he almost spit the stew back into his bowl.

His tongue hung out of his mouth, “I think that could kill someone.”

Noelle giggled at his comment and tasted the stew herself, beaming at the taste. Unlike your husband, she didn’t seem to have an issue with the heat level. Kaeya shook his head at you in disbelief.

“Now I’m nervous,” You said, half jokingly and half serious. You poked your fork into a piece of beef and placed the food in your mouth. Instantly, your mouth lit up in a fire. You held back a cough as you chewed the food. Kaeya stared at you in disbelief, watching your eyes water from the spices.

Kaeya rubbed your bicep as you grabbed another forkful of the stew. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will,” You said, “There’s no way I’m going to have taste buds after this.”

childe

When Childe comes home one day, he doesn’t see you resting on the couch like usual. He follows the light down the hall and finds you in the middle of the floor in the bedroom, your body stretched in a weird position.

One of your arms was standing high in the air and the other was low to the ground, causing the top half of your body to be vertical. You were taking mediated breaths and counting slowly before you switched sides.

“What are you doing?”

Without opening your eyes, you responded to your boyfriend. “I’m doing yoga,” You said flatly, “It’s time for Nikolai to come out.”

“Oh,” Childe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Is he?”

“He won’t move an inch.”

Childe smiles to himself. Any day now your son would be arriving and he could feel the excitement radiating off your body. He was three days overdue, preferring to stay in the comfort of your womb, but you were ready for him.

“I’m surprised,” Childe continues, “I thought you wanted to wait for him to come on his own.”

You stood up straight and opened your eyes slowly, placing your hands on your back to try and crane out any kinks with your knuckles. “I was,” You started, “But I changed my mind. I want to hold him so badly.”

Your boyfriend smiles again, this time at you. He agrees with you but decides not to say anything, knowing inducing labor was your decision and your decision only. Childe stands up and comes near you, “Let me help.”

With the help of your boyfriend, you get on the ground and prop a knee up. Childe holds your hips as you shakily lift the other leg into the air and extend it straight. He reminds you he has a solid hold on you so you lift your opposite arm, replicating the action.

“This is hard,” You complain, wanting to put your leg down already.

“You got this,” Childe grins, “Do it for Nikolai.”

zhongli

“Archons, it’s cold out.”

“Perfect.”

Zhongli’s eyes watched you intently as you stood at the edge of the dock at Liyue Harbor. You were bundled in several layers and your hands rested on your large baby bump. There were even some premature snowflakes floating down from the sky and resting on your nose.

You never thought you would be someone to induce labor but when a week had passed past your due date, you knew you should at least try. You tried the common methods first (eating spicy foods, walking, doing yoga, etc.) and when none of them worked, you and Zhongli decided to look up some old wivestales in books. The easiest one to try was extreme cold, since it was already January.

“Can you feel anything?” Your husband asked, readjusting the hat over your ears for the tenth time that hour.

You shook your head, “Not really.”

Zhongli caught a snowflake on his finger and rubbed it off on your cheek. You giggled and leaned into his warm side. When you spoke, your breath turned into visible puffs of air. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the Cryo Archon.”

“Oh, hush,” You playfully said, rolling your eyes. “Do you want to meet Jia or not?”

He reached forward to take one of your hands in his. He squeezed your fingers, instantly warming them up, “Of course I do. I just don’t want us to freeze before we can.”

a/n: sorry zhongli got the short end of the stick again </3

[akaashisupremacy]

Yes, Always

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, what does love look like?

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: Mostly fluff, lil bit of domestic angst, exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.8k)

“How on earth are you still bed when the sun is setting? Gojo Satoru dramatically bursts into your apartment. The door flings open and you’re sure the knob dented the wall. 

You don’t even blink. His theatrics rarely faze you anymore. You shift on your bed to face the wall. 

You don’t have energy for this. 

Gojo knows you since your childhood. You hadn’t always been so easy to tire. But Jujutsu work was a lot. It accumulated fatigue that  drained you physically and emotionally ever so often. 

“You cancelled on Ieri, I knew something was up and I was right!” he placed his hands on his hips. He walks over to you.

You yawn and ignore him. 

Gojo opens a window and pulls out your covers in response. 

“Hey!” you yelp. 

“You go shower while I make you something to eat.” he commands. 

You continue to ignore him. 

He tries to haul you off the bed and into the tub. 

You finally sit up, crossed beyond words. He kneels down so he can look up to you.

“You need a warm shower. It will help you feel better, I promise.” he says firmly, “Get yourself some fresh clothes. I’ll run you a bath.” His tone is is a mix of stern and gentle in away you don’t hear often. 

You grudgingly get up and do as he says. 

You drag yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. As you body soak in the hot water, the fatigue peel off and you feel re energised. You look up at the steam that floats around you. 

Your reverie is interrupted by the kitchen noises.

Why was he doing this? You thought to yourself. This wasn’t like him to cross the boundaries of your home and to check up on you. Sure you were dating, but coming over was way too cozy for Gojo who only ever dated casually. 

You walk out in new clothes, hair still dripping wet. 

Gojo had set up a pot over a portable stove on your dinner table with some food already boiling away. The smell of dinner on the way was already wafting in the air. 

“Thanks for doing this.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his chest. 

Gojo resists the urge to pull away or look extremely nonchalant. He’a never been good with commitment or sincere expressions pf affection. 

“The water was nice.” you added. 

He carefully plants his hand your nape and press your forehead on his lips. You body is still warm from the shower. It still shocks him how close he can hold you. 

“If you like the water so much we can go swimming in the summer.” he nods, “I’ve always wanted to go to Okinawa and go diving or snorkeling.”

You briefly pull away, “If we’re still seeing each other.”

He hesitates, “We will.” 

“How do you know we’ll last till then?” 

“I just do.” he pushes. 

“Sure,” you take tour arms off him.

Gojo is not good at commitment. It is hard for him to sustain his interest in any one person, which you’ve accepted when you began dating him. Your set-up isn’t even exclusive. Why was he kidding himself? 

Now that you’ve detached yourself from him. He heads back to the kitchen counter. 

“Because this is the hardest I’ve tried.” he replies softly, “I’m concerned about you you think and how I make you feel. I don’t think I can take the weight of disappointment if things spiral a second time.”

You look at him as he prepares so vegetables. Gojo was your technically your ex-fiancee. You thought the break-up freed him. Maybe you weren’t completely right. 

This is your second shot of your relationship. Why are you surprised that he’s trying so hard? Why is it difficult for you to believe in his sincerity? 

“Okinawa sounds nice, I want some oysters.” you reply, taking out some bowls and chopsticks. 

“I want to see you in a bikini.” He smirks. 

You instinctively throw a towel at him. He dodges with a grin. 

As the meatballs begin to cook, you both take a seat. Gojo recalls his conversation with his student earlier today. 

“Yuuji,” Gojo called out as he enters the kitchen, “I need you to teach me how to make meatballs. I’m bringing them over for a friend.” 

Itadori Yuuji is busy cutting up some mushrooms. Must be hotpot night again for the students. 

“Here take this, this is ready made.” he pulls out a container of meatballs from the fridge.

“Aren’t you going to teach me how o make it?” Gojo asks his student, slightly perplexed.

“You look like you’re in a rush. I can teach you another time,” Iatdori smiles congenially and waves his hand. He causally takes the meat and scallions from Gojo’s bag and begin prepping them for his meal. 

“Is this for you ex-wife?” he causally asks his teacher. 

Gojo snorts, “Ex-fiancee. Yeah that one, they’re not feeling well today. I’m going to drop off something to eat.”

“I think it’s kind of nice you’re a second try.” Yuuji grins good naturedly. 

“The first time wasn’t really a try. Our engagement was arranged.” Gojo packs some other things onto a bag, “Our marriage would have ended in flames if we had pushed through.”

“Yeah, but even if you had married, I think it would eventually work out. It might take years but you clearly do get along and you’re attracted to each other. You’re both willing to put in the work.” Yuuji reasons. 

“Just people try doesn’t mean they always succeed.” Gojo mutters. Yuuji is the eternal optimist. 

“Its not gonna work any better if you don try at all. Relationships aren’t a one time task.” 

“Why can’t you just teach me? It’ll take just a little bit of time.” Gojo asks again. He slings the bag over his shoulder, ready to head out. 

“But a little bit of time is still worth something. More time together is always good.” Yuuji nods. 

“Just take it sensei,” Itadori said before he left the school, “Make the most out of today.” 

——————————————————————

After dinner, you yawn. Gojo goes over your side and sweeps you off your chair. Your legs are dangling awkwardly over his arms. This feels so new yet strangely comfortable.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

He looks into your eyes, framed by your lashes. Warmth has returned to your cheeks. Your face is brighter than when he first came. 

You lace your arms around his neck. 

Gojo has never been to your house on a personal visit before. He doesn’t know how to feel in this new kind of intimacy—an intimacy outside of sex. It is intensely emotional for him to see you at your lowest, at home, without the trappings of your jujutsu powers or even you work coat. 

Who were you outside your jujutsu sorcerer? Who were the two of you outside of your jujutsu connections? 

“Put me down, I want to stand.” you quietly request. He relents. 

When Gojo gets up to do the dishes, you follow. You’re standing side by side, elbows bumping as a creeping sense of domesticity inches up his spine. 

Gojo prefers to eat out. Cleaning up after dinner was like breakfast after sex—too much commitment. 

“If this is freaking you out, we can stop.” You mumble, quickly reading through him “I can do the dishes and you can just go.”

He’s surprised by the exit you create for him, but he buckles down.

“I’m not running away from anything tonight.” he says. He’s shirking from extra time, not from his feelings and definitely not from you. 

He fills his ears with the sound of clanking dishes and your slow and steady breath. His time today was your anyways. Why would he take it back? Domesticity is unfamiliar, but he so badly wants to give it a shot. 

After all the dishes are put aside, you wipe his hands dry with the kitchen towel. His heart is racing, his palms sweaty. He thinks about cracking a joke to hide his tension, but decides otherwise. 

You eyes look steadily at him, as if testing him to see if he will sat or go. He takes the towel and gently dries off your hands, careful to get in between your fingers and to be gentle around your wrists. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” he remarks, “even if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m really trying.” he adds. 

“I believe you.” you nod. Some of the tension and discomfort in his face fades. 

You walk towards your room, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

He scurries behind you, turning off the lights as he goes “Can I lie down beside you?”

You’re taken by surprise but you don’t let it show. 

“Sure.”

Gojo mostly lies on top of the sheets and he watches you tuck yourself in. You look so young like this — pajamas, no make up, no work clothes. 

You were arranged to be married by 20 and you look just that age. He notices you staring back at him, inspecting him in this new angle you’re both experiencing for the first time. 

“Did you ever think about what our first night would be like?” you ask candidly.  

He rolls onto his back and stares into the ceiling, “It would probably be awkward. I’ve thought about taking a sleeping pill to knock myself out. What about you?”

“Just the usual stuff.” you shrug. 

“What usual stuff?” he prods. 

You make a face and reply, “I guess I expected you’ll about some of my habits that I’m embarrassed about eventually.”

“It’s not the sex?” he asks surprised. 

You laugh and shake your head. When you were younger you were curious about it, but once you learned what it was it didn’t seem as interesting to you. 

“No, I thought the sex would just make me sad. Judging by the way things were going then, you’d be thinking of someone else while I give myself to you.” you turn away from him as you talk, sheepish to voice your hurt out loud and look at him in the eye at the same time, “You’d make me feel small, like my family did. For most of my life, my only value was to be married to you and I couldn’t even feel good in it.”

Your words heave silence into the room. You don’t know what expression he has on. 

“Man, I sound like horrible husband.” he murmurs. 

You slowly turn back to him. 

“But that was what would have happened if we had married at 20. That’s not us anymore.” you shake your head. 

Your faces so close your noses touched. 

“What are you doing?” he half-asks. 

You press your face to his shoulder. He pulls away a bit to get under the sheets. He wraps an arm around you and uses his other arm to turn off the lights. 

“Can I stay tonight?” he breathes in your smell even though he already knows the answer. You feel so impossibly soft against him, he feels the lull of sleep approaching. 

“Yes,” you barely whisper, “always.”

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

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss

Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel @samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki  @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup@cherryonigiri

If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!

[limenysnocket]

The Plan

Summary: It's your birthday (hooray!) and you still have to work (not so hooray). Nevertheless, you can still count on your friends to cheer you up, but not as much as your loveable boyfriend who insists you spend your birthday with him and a romantic dinner, rather than at a party your friends set up.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, Taika (yes, he gets his own warning), some content may be explicit-ish.

Request: @whatwememeintheshadows

A/N: So people are actually planning their fics nowadays???? Did I not get the memo or something??? These come straight from my head????

THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY. Happy (very) belated birthday.

Tags: @honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Okay, so maybe work was less of a bitch today, you had to admit. People were nicer to you today, you got an extra thirty minutes added on to your lunch break just because, and, of course, you got a couple of dirty birthday cards and some cash, but that really shouldn’t matter, should it? What did matter, is that you would get to have some you-time, all by yourself, with your vibrator, a couple of movies, and some nice, low calorie ice cream (that tasted like total shit). At least... That’s what you thought would happen.

“You should totally come party with us! I’ve got the booze, Jess has the men, and we’ll make a whole night out of it! Alcohol, strippers, and dancing! How does that sound?” your friend, Enid, reiterated everything for you at least one thousand times today.

“If I wanted a stripper, I’d ask Taika to dye his hair, shave himself everywhere, and oil up a little. That’s the only sight I’d be happy to see, thank you,” you huff and smile. You appreciate the effort to get you out and about, possibly be a little frisky, but your heart just wasn’t in it, and that was much to Taika’s luck.

“Oh, come on. Taika can’t have that much of a grip on you! He has a lot of ‘female friends’, so what’s wrong with you having some ‘male friends’ hm?” Jess cooed to you, but you immediately whirled around, insulted that she would even suggest that you would do such a thing. And you were sure Taika had female friends, yes, but they were just friends. Nothing else. Although, his flirtatious behavior scared you sometimes, at parties. Some of the women would just swarm him, and you feared any one of them would catch his fancy more than you did.

“No. I don’t want strippers at whatever the hell you’re planning,” you stated again, firmly this time. Your two friends whined again, Jess lowering her head in defeat.

“Fine, but can we still bring booze? Invite a few more friends to party?” Enid asked, setting a hand on your shoulder and pleading to you with large eyes.

You chew at your cheek and think for quite some time. Your friends want to throw you a genuine party, and God knows how long it’s been since you’ve hung around a group of unfamiliar faces, especially since you started to date a Hollywood writer. Maybe it was just what you needed. Taika was supposed to be busy for the night, anyway.

You succumbed to the pressure, and nodded. “Okay,” you agreed. “But if we get any noise complaints, your talking to the cops for me.”

“Hell yeah! You’re not going to regret this! Just you wait! Go home and clean your place up a little. I’ll be by in an hour or two to get things set up!” Enid clapped her hands together in mischief, and Jess suddenly looked more spry. You gave her a warning glance, and she only grinned back, before skipping away, chatting gayly with Enid at her side.

You can’t believe the shit you just got yourself into, and you still wouldn’t believe it, the moment Enid and Jess arrived with their arms full of cheap liquor, streamers, finger foods, and a bunch of colorful-looking lights that look like they just came from a Wal-Mart Christmas sale. As soon as you gave them the go-ahead, they started tearing shit open. Between setting up, your phone started to ping over and over again, as well as your friends’ phones. Apparently, just a few hours was enough time to notify everyone in LA about a party, who it was for, and where it was going to be at. 

You just sat back and sipped on frozen margaritas (meant for the party, but it's your party so you didn't give two shits), until the party started and there was a heavy flow of people rushing into your home. Invited or uninvited.

When things started getting wild, that's when a pact was made. Enid and Jess would be cleaning up your house after this was over. You were already stepping over beer cans as it was.

You can't even say you were having fun there. You barely knew anyone. Most of the people there were just randoms looking for a good time, and unfortunately you saw some of them getting that good time in a dark corner. You made an excuse to run upstairs and lock all the doors of the bedrooms before anyone could think about getting there. That's what you thought, at least.

The party was getting to be too much, too quickly. In haste, you locked yourself into your bedroom, and took a step back. You could still hear the muffled voices and loud, posh laughter on the other side of the door. Those girls would pay. You rush over to your window, overlooking your backyard and see people divebombing into your pool, creating waves and getting people outside of the pool wet. People were leaving their trash everywhere, and many red, plastic cups floated in the (for now) clear waters. You didn't know how much more you could take. Maybe parties weren't your thing after all. Especially with strangers.

You sit back on your bed and you don't even bother looking out the window anymore. It was best to stay inside your room, if you didn't want to be molested or assaulted by some dumbass who thinks it's okay to anonymously grope women in crowded areas. Your face buries in your hands, griping to yourself how this would be over in a few hours. Right?

There's a subtle knock on your door, and you jump. It's in the regular, stiff-three order, so you are very hesitant about going and getting it. Then, there comes the "shave and a haircut" tune. Not a very good one, and kind of slurred, guessing by the way there was a loud thud at the very end, the person knocking was shoved against the door. Damn you and your pity.

You're quick to move, despite the strong feeling telling you not to. You just knew some poor soul was being smooshed out there. Fuck, you were nervous. This was screaming bad idea, but you were going to pull through anyway. The plan in your head seemed childish, but it should work fine if the person was desperate enough to get in. One quick swipe of the door, and you're golden! Surely...

You flick the doorknob lock and gulp, keeping a tight grip. On the count of three-- and after having to restart because another desperate knock jumbled up your thoughts-- you sent the door flying open. Sure enough, a heavy body came tumbling in with it, tripped, tried to balance, then ended up crash-landing cartoonishly into your bed, bonking their head a tad on the wooden post at the end of the frame. You hissed a little bit, then closed the door again. You rushed to their aid as the person looked up.

"I thought you liked private parties more than this," a soft, kiwi accent cooed at you, obviously through unbridled pain. This bewildered you even more.

Taika was sitting on the floor, legs extended out in front of him, making him look like a giant from your angle, and he was dressed in a blue tux, black dress shirt, and polished black shoes. Well, they seemed a little scuffed now.

"Shit, Taika-- what the fuck are you doing here?" you drop to your knees and cradle his aching head. He winced at the touch, but was too happy to see you again to deny it.

"Well, I came to take you out on a surprise birthday dinner. Maybe pick up a bottle of wine and go dancing with my favorite person, you, under moonbeams and twighlight," his head bobbled from side to side, which didn't help his animated character, "but it seems to me you have company... and a lot of it."

You sigh and brush an unkempt curl back into place while he cheekily grins at you. "This wasn't my idea," you murmur. "Friends set this up. They'll also be the ones to take it down. I didn't really want to spend my birthday with anyone this year. Makes me feel old."

"Well, you seriously should have known someone was about to stop you from taking another bite of that shitty ice cream in your freezer. They dished it out in shot glasses down there. Even a sober chick couldn't handle the taste," Taika snorted playfully and you rolled your eyes. He seemed to be taking this situation surprisingly well. It was weird. "But it was much to my misfortune that your 'friends' got to you before I could. Maybe I should have settled on a birthday lunch, but that didn't sound too appealing to me."

"Would have been much better than the chicken salad and dry-ass piece of cake I had for lunch today," you fired back. He sighed again and stood up with a groan. You followed with him.

"What now?" he mumbled, stroking the stache on his upper lip, then letting the tips of his fingers wander down to his smooth, freshly shaved cheeks.

"Well, we're both stuck here, so I suppose we settle in for the night and wait it out." You plop yourself down on your bed again and just stare up at him. He doesn't move, however. His eyes were focused on the window, more specifically the lock on it, and he was nibbling at his bottom lip. He was thinking. Some people might call it strange to watch him think sometimes. He really was like a cartoon. With one tap of his foot, he spun around on his heel and faced you.

"New plan," he clapped his hands together. "Get dressed."

You were confused for the next fifteen minutes or so. He helped you pick out a deep blue dress that would somewhat match his and black heels. He was escorting you all over the room with his hand on your lower back. He even tried to do your makeup for you, but he was so inexperienced, you had to take over. The last time he had to do someone's makeup was on the set of the original, five-minute What We Do in the Shadows film.

While you finished your makeup, he was practically smooching your window. He was staring at it like a dog asking to go outside. It made you a bit nervous, seeing the cogwheels turn in his head. He took your hand and lead you to the window, unlocking it and pushing it up.

"Want to go first?" he said behind a proud smile. When he only received silence and a pure, "what the fuck," stare back to his face, he shrugged, and stepped out the window himself. Luckily, you knew fully well he wasn't about to fall flat on his face and die on the pavement below. You had a screened back porch, with a roof over it's head as well, since the seasons tend to get very hot and sticky and mosquitoes just love to lay visits. He stepped onto the roof, trying not to bring too much attention to himself. Once he had bounced down, he brushed himself off, then looked up at you, expectantly.

"Come on, then! Don't have all night!" he hollered and waved to you. "Need me to catch you?"

You gulped, not bothering to answer him. You gently scooted your lower half out the window and taking your heels into your hand. You didn't want to break an ankle on the landing. "Lord, give me strength," you muttered, squeezed your eyes shut, then took a leap of faith. You tried not to squeal as the rushing air flew by you like sticky wind, but before you knew it, your feet touched slanted ground. You felt like you were about to tumble, but strong hands met your waist and kept you up.

"Beautiful!" Taika beamed and kissed your flushed cheek.

"I hate you sometimes," you slapped his chest and made him laugh. He took your hand and started leading you to the other side of the porch roof, and came to the end, where your driveway supposedly was. Parked dead center was Enid's big, black SUV. Tall enough to just be a little hop away from the roof.

"One more, leap, dear?" Taika was on the move again, but you grabbed his sleeve before he could actually make the jump.

"Taika, no. That's Enid's car. She already spends so much on gas, think of how pissed she'll be if she has to remove dents from her roof!" you explain, nervous from the outcome of this little plan of yours.

"Sweetheart," Taika said airily, turning his full attention to you and taking your hand again. "If she was a good friend, she would have known a massive party like this would have pissed you off. Plus, I don't think just cleaning the house is going to get even with this God awful day. So, why not put a few dusty footprints on her car, hm?" Taika was back to grinning, and before you could say anymore, he had leapt away and landed on top of the car with a large thud. He motioned to you with a swipe of his hand. You were in way too deep with him to give up on him now.

You followed through, heels swinging in one hand, and he caught you again like the perfect, Maori prince charming he was.

Car hop, after car hop, he lead the way and made sure you were okay with every stop, until you reached a small enough car to hop down, scale the lawn and make it to his jeep.

"That was," you said, breathless. You couldn't find the right words, and Taika just chuckled at you.

"Exciting?" he filled in the blank space on his own, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you laugh, fanning your chest and brushing a single strand of hair back. "That's a good word for it."

"Well, excitement doesn't stop here," he opened your door into the jeep for you, bowing respectfully and playing everything up for you, like you were royalty. "I have everything set up for you to have a great night with yours truly. As long as everything goes according to the plan this time..."

[nose-bandaid]

그해 그 달 그날  (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

=====

You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could. 

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing. 

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver. 

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you. 

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state. 

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?” 

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”

Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest”  to dinner 👀 

Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️

This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.

When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.

It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.  

Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.

Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.

Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”

“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”

“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.

The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”

“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”

“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.

“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”

As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”

While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”

You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”

Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”

Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.

He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.

Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”

“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.

“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.

You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.

“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”

“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”

“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.

Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”

You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”

Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.

“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”

You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.

Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”

“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.

“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.

“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.

Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you.  “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded

Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.

You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”

Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”

The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.

So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”

Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”

Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”

“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.

“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.

Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.

You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.

“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.

Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”

You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”

“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”

You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”

“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.

*****

Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”

“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”

“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.

Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”

“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy’s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders

“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’  gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”

Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”

Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.

Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613  @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 16

AO3

Beta read as always is @thesnadger!

A week sure flies by.

Martin gets some of his thoughts sorted.

Nothing happened.

The sky was unchanged in every way but for the time that had passed. They had bid Evan a good night (“Oh, right, it’s evening now? Should probably give you some idea about time when we talk.”), and Martin stood at the front entrance to stare through the small window. It was grey and downright gloomy out there. Nothing new.

“D’you think Simon and that woman just wanted to mess with me?” Martin said. “Like, say some spooky stuff to make sure I stay quiet about the whole thing?”

“It’s possible,” Jon said, exhaustion clear in his voice. “But there’s still a sky, which is good news, I suppose.”

“And not everything is sky,” Sasha added helpfully. “That seems more Simon’s speed than getting rid of it.”

Tim stretched his arms above his head. “Either way, keep an eye out for a warning text before we all become professional skydivers.”

“At least I’ll have a job lined up?” He wanted to muster up some more concern but after a day of waiting the suspense had run out. If something was going to happen, there was nothing he could do. “Well, goodnight. And don’t stay here too late! You all won’t make it another day without getting proper sleep.”

His eye landed on Jon, who huffed a little. “Yes, yes, we’ll all get a proper rest. Unlike the others I don’t do coffee. Though, let me walk you out. I’d like to get another look at the sky.”

It wasn’t the smoothest transition to accompanying Martin outside, but lack of sleep didn’t make for good excuses. Martin nodded and walked out with Jon in tow.

Once outside, Jon folded his hands together and seemed to consider something. “I think I’m a bit of a broken record at this point, but I wanted to apologize for earlier. I had become concerned about the lack of response from Elias and wanted to get it all back to him before too long.”

Martin looked at him carefully. “So… you think it’ll be enough?”

“Yes. It might even be overkill, but now that I’ve promised multiple people to help fix things, it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Jon let his hands fall to his sides. “The apology still stands, though.”

“Well, with you staying longer I’m sure I’ll find a way to even out the apologies between us. There are always papers to scatter.” Martin smiled sheepishly and adjusted the bag hanging from his shoulder. “But it would be nice if you didn’t have something to apologize for in the first place.”

“Yes, I recognize that.” Jon rubbed his arm. “I’m trying. I hope that much is clear.”

Martin sighed, the final piece of irritation drifting away. “Yeah, I know. I do accept it, the apology. But maybe try to go without needing to? For like a day?”

Straightening, Jon nodded. “I can do that. Or try, at least.”

“That’s all I ask.” All of that out of the way, Martin relaxed. “I guess I’ll be going. Big day tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, it will be.”Jon stood there as if about to say something else, stopping himself several times. Finally, in earnest, he said, “I’ll… I’ll do as much as I can, to help.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

As Martin walked away, he glanced back and saw that Jon had remained on the front steps, turning his gaze upward with a frown. If this had been a trick, Martin thought, it had done its job quite nicely. He almost regretted bringing it up to the others. They all shouldn’t have had to worry about nothing.

No, that wouldn’t have worked. One of them would’ve picked up on it. Sasha probably, though with that kind of intuition she also should’ve known better than to keep Naomi’s warning a secret from him.

But she apologized, and had only wanted to help. And she had been right about the results. There was no arguing that. It didn’t make it less upsetting, but putting it behind him wouldn’t be difficult. They were all going to be around each other, after all. Martin wanted to enjoy that.

He passed the place where he’d fallen. There was no sign of the event of course, no crack in the street or mark of a skull hitting concrete. No one had been there to witness it, either.

The sky was getting darker still, the street filling more and more with chill and emptiness. Ahead was the wooded cliffside that split his home away from the rest of town, and Martin dearly wished he had someone to walk home with.

--

The TV was on when he returned home. He slid off his jacket and damp boots by the door and stayed there in his wool socks. There was a numbness to his knees, a soreness to his throat that he couldn’t swallow away. It was getting colder outside, and the sea air always got worse as the year crept closer to winter.

Tea would fix it, once Mum was off to bed.

A sore throat meant talking less, which is what she preferred anyway. He nodded to her once in her chair, then went into dinner preparations. Something warm, something hearty, and something simple. He grabbed the container of beef stew and a cylinder of dinner roll dough from the fridge. Simple and, even better, fast.

Before long there were steaming bowls of meat and vegetables on the table with rolls for dipping. He thanked his past self for thinking ahead as he and his mother ate in silence.

She said nothing, did nothing but her usual routine. There was no going outside with the intense chill that had settled onto the beach. Instead, she went straight to bed without a word spoken.

A tingling in his throat kept him from uttering a single goodnight. He turned out her lamp and closed her door, returning to the kitchen to wash the dishes and make himself some tea with honey. While waiting for the water to boil, he checked his phone and saw a text from earlier.

Tim: got home alright?

Martin: sorry. yeah i made it fine

He hoped his response hadn’t come too late to be worrisome, but Tim responded rather quickly.

Tim: gotcha. no tumbles?

Martin: no nothing

Tim: good. ill let the others know

Tim: so i guess tomorrow is gonna be interesting. its a bit weird to get a project really started on a friday but i was thinking we could all get food afterwards tomorrow, maybe get some drinks

Tim: usually jon skips out on that sort of thing but on trips its easier to get him since he hates making food choices in new places

Tim: you in?

Martin’s thumbs twitched over the phone keyboard. When was the last time he bothered sitting in a restaurant instead of getting takeout? Or went to a bar?

He would have to get his mother settled in with dinner and everything. Her usual bedtime was early, but they were late workers so maybe it would be fine? Would it be fine? Would he be fine?

Shit, he needed to respond.

Martin: sure that would be nice. what time?

Tim: probably later evening, since we’ll be settling work stuff. thinkin 8 or 9 if that works

Martin: yeah that’s perfect actually

Tim: great, see you bright and early! 👍

Martin: have a good night!

Slumping against the counter, Martin looked over the short conversation a few times (perhaps more than a few) and then pocketed his phone.

This was fine. It was getting some food with some people. He would be fine.

The kettle whistled and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Tea, he was making tea for himself. So he did, adding honey and milk to his liking. It was too sweet for his mother or anyone else he knew, but this was for him.

He took the steaming mug in both hands and looked out the window. The sky was still there, as were the beach and crashing waves though he could barely see them. His house still stood around him with the lights on and heat running.

Savings were something he’d finally managed to have in the recent months after years of low-wage customer service positions. He and his mother could survive without income for a little while. Getting through the whole of winter would be a stretch, but his spending habits were fairly restrained and his mother’s medication would still be covered. In the meantime there were other avenues for making money, so this job wasn’t the end-all-be-all.

God, it had been nice though. Martin would hold onto the pay for as long as he could during the whole saving-Evan process, but after that he would have a lot to figure out.

Draining the rest of his mug, he rinsed it out and set it into the sink. The tea had done its job in soothing his throat. The extra warmth in his hands was a blessing as well. He wondered if Jon would be keeping warm at all, though he suspected the truth would be disappointing.

No matter. If the others were working there a while longer Jon would have to adjust to the weather eventually, or else deal with Martin pushing hot mugs of tea into his hands until he learned. Maybe he’d toss in a scarf to complete the set.

With one last glance out the kitchen window, he walked out into the hall and up the stairs, turning off each light as he went. Once in his room, Martin slipped into his pyjamas and reached into the drawer of his bedside table. His poetry notebook had gone ignored for several days, and that needed rectifying.

Where would he even start? The last page he’d written seemed like it was from years before, not a week. Now he had a whole swirl of worries about the future he hadn’t had to deal with since he was in school. Worries and fears and-

And a silly, one-sided thing that while completely hopeless was a nice thing to feel all the same. So just like school, except he had people to meet on a Friday night.

Looking out his window a final time, Martin sat in his bed, bent over his notebook, and began to write. It was clunky at first, the words getting stuck somewhere in his pen or his throat. Part of his mind kept drifting to his mobile on the bedside table, wondering if Tim was still available to talk a bit more about the day ahead. Tiny things to fill a text log, like food options or how Martin would meet up with them. For a moment he even considered asking Tim for Jon and Sasha’s numbers, in case of emergencies.

Better to have that conversation in person, he thought, pulling his attention back to the page. Soon after he was writing short couplets at a quick pace, scraps of rhyme and feeling, until he checked his phone and found an hour had passed. Sleep, he thought. He needed sleep.

It was almost disappointing to have the writing go by so quickly, but there was no helping it. The poetry notebook was placed neatly into its drawer, his glasses were set onto the table, and Martin, wrapped in a thick blanket, stared out into the night until his eyes were too heavy to hold open.

--

It wasn’t his alarm that woke him the next morning but his ringtone. When he checked the screen, he found notifications for several missed calls from Tim and hurried to answer.

“Tim? What’s-”

--

One by one, files and folders were packed into car trunks.

He’d wasted no time in getting there, booking it all the way across town, but when he arrived Martin could say nothing at all. Standing near the stairs, he could only watch as the three researchers marched out of the lighthouse with their work things.

Sasha kept the most calm of the three, nodding at Martin as she walked past him. Her fingers tapped furiously on the side of a box, nails making dents in the cardboard.

Something between misery and confusion pulled at Tim’s mouth. More than once Martin worried he would keel over with nausea, but he stayed upright as if out of spite. He met Martin’s eyes a couple of times with a friendly smile, but it never stuck for long.

Jon was stone faced, though his jaw kept clenching and unclenching. He had only looked at Martin once, keeping that neutral expression to the best of his ability but unable to mask his frustration. Whatever he wanted to say, it wouldn’t be said there.

Behind Martin, Peter Lukas stood with his hand gripping the railing, equal measures tired and irritated and making no attempt to hide how much he didn’t want to be there. No, none of them would be saying anything except their goodbyes.

“Thanks for having us,” Tim said, shaking Martin’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to have a quiet workplace again.”

“Right. Have a safe trip.” It was the easiest thing for Martin to say, his mind not yet caught up.

Tim backed away to join the others who simply waved or nodded their goodbyes. Something in Martin’s chest twisted

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve seen now that it’s a poor environment for multiple employees. The acoustics make it unbearable.” Peter smiled something empty. “Tell Elias I will be unavailable for communication for the next few weeks, at the least.”

Jon opened the door to his rental car and said, voice dripping with acid, “I’m sure we’ll speak with him very soon.”

“Perfect. Well, you’d best be going. Wouldn’t want to keep your workplace understaffed any longer.” With that, Peter glanced at Martin and jerked his chin to the front entrance before walking inside.

As Peter disappeared from sight, Sasha’s calm face twisted into furious determination. She nodded at Martin again, then stepped into the driver’s side of the rental and closed the door behind her. Tim sighed, holding up his phone and mouthing “later” before entering the passenger’s side.

Jon gave Martin a familiar look before slipping into his own car. Both vehicles left the lot, vanishing into the fog.

--

“What did I tell you? Academics,” Peter said, picking some lint off his sleeve. “Now, before I go, there are just a few things.”

It took all of Martin’s will not to drag his feet on the way to his desk. The folded table was gone, but dirty footprints littered his newly-mopped floor from where it had been. He focused on the different shoe sizes and shapes in the mud and slush.

"They certainly made a mess of the place, didn't they? You'll have to redo this floor, of course. The upstairs can wait until next week. Just keep to the usual schedule there."

His desk was still littered with papers he’d pushed aside before his nap the day before.

"You've fallen behind on paperwork as well. Understandable with all the blustering from those three, I really can’t imagine. Ah, well, it's nothing a few extra hours on the weekend won't take care of."

Martin dropped in the chair he’d sat in for months, overlooked by that crest and its ridiculous seal, eyes dead and glassy.

"Oh, and I’ve made some changes to your workload. It's all written down here.” Peter placed a piece of paper on the desk. “Pretty straightforward. I don't imagine that any of it will be a problem for you."

With a dull nod, Martin dragged the page toward himself without looking at it. An updated part of his work contract. More things for him to accomplish that weekend most likely, as if it was all a punishment.

Peter breathed in sharply through his nose and clapped his hands together, looking much more refreshed. “I did miss the sound of this place. I have other business, of course, so I’ll leave you to it, hm?”

Not waiting for a response, Peter strode away and out of the building with a decisive click of the door. Martin was left to himself in that wide, empty space, spending five, ten, fifteen minutes just staring at nothing.

Stupid. If their boss had meant for them to stay longer, they wouldn’t have gone through more extensive measures the day before. They should’ve known better than to make plans that were never going to happen.

Or he had just been so clearly desperate for help that they played it cool until it was time to get out.

No, that wasn’t fair (though he wasn’t ruling it out entirely). Tim’s invitation the night before would’ve just been cruel if that were the case, and Tim didn’t seem like the type to pull something so mean. And none of them seemed happy about Elias’ decision, especially with all of the work they’d put in. Sasha certainly wasn’t close to dropping anything.

And Jon had made a promise, even if he had a hard time keeping them.

Eventually, Martin looked down at the page in front of him.

--

Up and around he ran, panic and dizziness squeezing at his skull and threatening to pull him backward off his feet.

Stumbling into the upmost level of the lighthouse, Martin whispered through haggard breaths, “No, no, no, no-”

He hurried across the room, placing a hand on the dial and giving it a twist. “Evan? Evan, can you hear me?”

He waited for familiar voices with no success. Again, “Evan? It’s me, Martin. Peter left already, so just say something.”

A perfectly ordinary silence washed over him. He sank to the floor, his hand still brushing against the dial as if it made a difference. From his other hand fell a brand new set of panel instructions. An extra note was left at the bottom, something about the importance of proper lighthouse management to landbound ships.

Through the windows morning continued to break over the ocean, familiar cliffs just visible through the fog down below.

[janeyseymour]

Made With Extra Love

Hello! A while ago, I made this silly headcanon, and this idea has been nagging at me for quite some time, so here we are! 

Can also be found here!

Since being reincarnated, the queens had fallen into many habits, some good, some not so good. Catherine of Aragon had made it a point to read the newspaper every morning. Anne Boleyn had discovered shoes with wheels connected to the bottom. She could be often found cleaning up a mess after she accidentally rolled into something- mostly Jane’s various flower vases scattered through the house. Jane Seymour had quite a knack for baking, always calling all the queens into the kitchen to try some of her newest desserts. Anna of Cleves went on shopping sprees quite frequently, sometimes dragging along Anne and Katherine. Katherine Howard tended to stick with Jane, always the first in line for a delicious new treat. If she wasn’t with the blonde, she was causing trouble with the second and fourth queen. Catherine Parr often stayed in to work on a new piece of writing, even when her writer’s block hit.

While the queens all developed habits of their own, that’s not to say they didn’t all spend time with each other. Catherine, Jane, and Cathy had all made a habit of going to church on Sunday mornings together. Anne and Kat had a knack for pranking the others, sometimes roping Anna into the chaos. The mothers of the group often stayed up at night to discuss their little ones.

When it came to being in the kitchen though, each queen had their own habits. Here’s how it goes:

Jane Seymour cooked practically gourmet meals from scratch every time she entered the rather large kitchen. The third queen, before becoming queen, had been taught how to be a doting wife. While the blonde wasn’t the sharpest when it came to scholarly subjects, she was certainly the best cook and baker of them all. She had figured out how to properly use all of the appliances in their kitchen rather quickly, and it wasn’t uncommon for any of the queens to walk into the house to an aroma that left their mouths watering and their stomachs growling.

“Janey, what are you making?” Anne wheeled into the kitchen.

“Out. You are not going to eat all of the food before it’s ready,” the blonde tutted.

Anne wheeled herself to just outside the kitchen archway before yelling, “I’m out! Now what are you making!”

“We’re having a casserole, and I’ve already made a pie for dessert.”

The third queen had set out dinner and called the others to take a seat. The five other queens bolted into their seats, quickly said grace, and dove into their meals. Various moans could be heard through the room.

“How do you do it?” Kat asked through a mouthful of food.

“No talking with your mouth full,” Catherine chided gently.

“It’s made with extra love,” the blonde replied casually.

“You should open your own restaurant Seymour,” Anna chimed in. “Lord knows I would be there every day.” Jane looked a bit shocked at such high praise. Her food surely wasn’t that good, was it?

“Well, right now we’ve kind of got our hands full with the show, but maybe someday.”

Ten years after their show had closed, Jane Seymour opened a quaint little diner a few blocks from where their theatre was. Her five queens were the first five in line at the opening. Catherine Parr, now a known columnist, wrote a five star review.

-

Catherine of Aragon could cook. She just wasn’t one to create her own recipes. Instead, she took others’ and added her own flair to them, oftentimes making foods just a tad too spicy for her fellow queens, aside from Anna who devoured every bite.

“Lina, you know I can teach you how to cook? There are only a few rules, and the rest comes from the heart,” Jane would say.

“I know you could Jane, but that’s kind of your thing. Besides, it’s fun to take your food and add some flair to it.”

“Is my cooking not good?”

Aragon flushed. “No no, that’s not what I mean love. It’s just that, I like to add a bit of heat to my food, and you aren’t much one for spice.”

“Oh! I’ll keep that in mind the next time I make something new.”

The next night, Jane was in the kitchen preparing a chicken for dinner when a stroke of genius came to her. She brought all of the spices she had collected in the time they had been back and set them on the counter.

“Lina? Could you come here for a second?” The first queen looked rather surprised when she saw all of the spices set out.

“What on Earth?”

“Well, I was going to make dinner by myself when I thought, why not have the next best cook help me out? Add some of your flair to it!” The blonde seemed excited, so the first queen set about adding different spices to the dish.

As the family sat down for dinner that night, Jane made sure to tell all of the queens that Catherine of Aragon had added her special Hispanic flair to the food. While the dish had a bit of a bite, it wasn’t anything the others couldn’t handle. And besides, Catherine added some extra spice to hers and Anna’s plates.

After that night, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the first and third queen collaborating on new dishes.

-

Katherine Howard was capable of cooking; she just never quite felt like it and often opted for boxed meals instead. The queens hardly ate out of boxes, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t stocked up.

On this particular night, Jane had been out of town for interviews about the show, and the rest of the queens had nominated Katherine to provide dinner. She had made several packages of ramen noodles and a box of macaroni and cheese. The pink haired queen was rather excited as she called down the others, feeling as though she had a purpose in the house.

“Tonight, we feast like queens!” She grinned, handing each of the four other queens a bowl of ramen and a bowl filled with orange mac n cheese.

“This looks wonderful love,” Catherine lied through her teeth. She didn’t exactly have a taste for the boxed meals Kat loved.

“Thank you!” Kat’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she took a bite of her noodles.

“Why don’t you ever cook anything?” Anna of Cleves asked through a mouthful of cheesy noodles.

“You’re one to talk,” Cathy remarked with a smirk.

“I do cook, just from a box! But if you insist on asking,” Kat sighed dramatically. “I’m preparing for college!”

“You’re planning on going to college?” Anne asked with wide eyes. “Does Jane know about this?”

“Yes she does, but that’s besides the point. When I walk by the university down the street, I see loads of kids eating this kind of food, so I’m preparing by learning how to make the foods I’m going to be eating when I’m there too!”

“You do know Jane isn’t going to let you go to college without popping in at least once a week with a home cooked meal, right?” Cathy had to point it out. There was no way Jane would let her adopted daughter survive off of crappy boxed meals when she could provide a home cooked meal “made with extra love”, as Jane so often liked to put it.

“Can't hurt to be prepared,” Kat shrugged and continued eating her noodles.

-

Catherine Parr was happy to eat whatever the other queens laid out in front of her, but she was just as happy to create meals herself.

“It’s going to spark my creativity Jane,” she would explain to the blonde. Oftentimes, it did spark a bit of creativity in the writer too.

“Cathy, would you mind preparing dinner tonight? Jane’s been exhausted lately, and I’d rather not wake her to make dinner,” Catherine whispered.

“Can’t you? I really have to finish this piece by Friday.” The gesture towards the sleeping queen that Aragon made was enough of an explanation.

“I guess,” she sighed. “Maybe it’ll help me come up with some more to write anyhow.”

“That’s the spirit.” Catherine watched her goddaughter make her way to the kitchen.

“Dinner’s ready!” The sixth queen called sometime later. The smell that wafted through the house was different, although not unwelcome.

Catherine woke a slumbering Jane who replied with, “Oh lord, are we in for some strange concoction tonight.” The others stifled laughter, Cathy feigning hurt.

“So tonight I made chicken and added some ranch seasoning with breading. Here’s to hoping you all don’t find it terrible.” The first five queens looked at the chicken rather scared. Was ranch seasoning meant to go on chicken? Only a bite would tell. Jane would be the first to adventure into the new food.

“This is,” she continued to chew her food. “different. A good different! Well done Cath.” The compliment from the head cook in the house allowed for the others to set their fears aside. This wasn’t going to be like the last time the writer had offered them pickles with peanut butter slathered on them. Surprise washed over their faces as they dined on this interesting food combination Catherine Parr had invented. It would certainly become a dish Cathy would use again in the future seeing as the others were able to stomach it. It was almost as if they enjoyed it.

That night, Cathy was able to finish her article.

“I told you cooking strange food combos cures writer’s block!” the writer would tell Jane in the morning.

-

Anne Boleyn wasn’t allowed in the kitchen after a certain mishap. The queens had been expected to go on a group outing together, but that was quickly dashed when Anne woke up that morning with a migraine.

“I’ll be fine,” she grumbled at the five concerned queens in her room, more than ready to stay by her side for the day. “Go have your fun.” The others hesitantly left the green room and made their way out of the house.

Some time had passed when Anne’s stomach began to rumble. Knowing she was far from the best cook in the house, she settled for some microwavable macaroni and cheese. Even I can’t mess this up, she thought to herself.

Oh how wrong she had been.

The second queen had forgotten to add water to the cup before shoving it into the microwave and turning the appliance on. The next thing she knew, the cup had caught on fire, and she was coughing at the absurd amount of smoke clouding the room. The cup on fire wasn’t going to put itself out anytime soon, and Anne couldn’t find the cursed fire extinguisher in her panicked state. She grabbed the phone and called the emergency line and Jane.

Within minutes, the police and fire department had come to save the woman in clear distress. Since the firemen had come, she had made her way outside and was now relaying what had happened to the men in blue. As the men were walking away from the scene and getting into their cars, the family car pulled up.

“Anne Boleyn! What the hell?” Jane got out of the car before Catherine could even throw the vehicle into park.

“I’m pretty sure the first question you should ask her is if she’s okay,” Cathy muttered from the backseat.

“I wasn’t trying to burn the house down! I was just trying to make macaroni!” The second queen was gesturing wildly at the now black container on their sidewalk.

“This is absurd! How could you mess that up?” The blonde was not thrilled, clearly.

“That’s what I thought!” Anne shouted back. “My dumb ass forgot to put water in the cup! I didn’t know it would catch on fire!”

Anne Boleyn wasn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore without supervision. Jane had made that quite clear.

-

Anna of Cleves could hardly be bothered with cooking her own food. In her past life, there was always someone to make her food, and in this life too, the other queens were more than happy to place food in front of the fourth queen.

Once, Jane had asked the red queen to provide dinner for the group that night with the explanation that she had to work on something for the show. Anna had agreed, and the silver queen seemed content. The fourth queen didn’t know that she was expected to cook.

“Dinner!” she called out.

“Pizza?” Jane was rather confused. She thought she had asked her successor to cook.

“Yeah? You asked me to get dinner.”

Another time years later, both the first and third queen had caught the flu. Katherine was away at college, so she wasn’t able to cook. Cathy was holed up in her room working on yet another article, and the fourth queen knew she wouldn't be able to convince her to cook. Anne still wasn’t allowed in the kitchen after all this time. It looked as though Anna would have to provide dinner again.

When she showed up with McDonald’s, only Anne would be excited.

Once, while Jane was cooking, Anna decided to keep the blonde company.

“Hey Anna?” Jane looked up from the pot that she was stirring.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you ever cook?” Anna shrugged at the question.

After supper that night,  “Why cook when you can pay others to do it for you?” Anna replied smugly, slipping Jane a crisp ten dollar bill for making dinner that night.

-

The queens certainly had quite a strange dynamic when it came to providing meals for themselves. Catalina was more than happy to assist in the kitchen. Kat was satisfied with “feasting” on various boxed meals. Cathy used the kitchen as a way to cure her writer’s block. Anne understood why she had been banned from the kitchen, happy to munch away on already made things. Anna of Cleves was more than happy to pay for the other queens to dine. Jane Seymour was more than happy to provide her family with home cooked meals, “made with extra love”. The money Anna threw her way, although completely unnecessary, was appreciated.

[tastingmellow]

Wretched In The Depths

A/N: So, I decided I wanted to try something new. This is gonna deviate from my usual fluffy fics. It’s still an Au but I was thinking maybe having it be a part of a horror universe. Yes, I am considering making a Horror AU series for all your favorite MCU babies and so on. I’m personally a huge fan of horror but I know others aren’t so I’m not gonna be using my usual tag lists. With that being if you would like to be tagged in my horror au then just comment under this and I will gladly add you. Another note, I will still be finishing certain series and creating my regular ole fics, I just wanna branch out a little bit. I’m very proud of this fic. :)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Summary: You, Steve, and your children move into a new home when you start acting strange. 

Warnings: Attention! Please do not read if you aren’t comfortable with description of possessed individual, character death, death of animals, loss of child, and injuries. KInda angsty. Little bit of language in there.

Word Count: I don’t know, LET’S GET SPOOPY! This bitch long though! Also, gif not mine!

“Honey, please don’t put that in your mouth.” You reached behind Steve’s seat while he chuckled. You gently tugged the dog’s blanket from your 3 year old’s mouth and she giggled while you blew a stray curl out of your eye. You looked at your youngest daughter, her eyes catching your eye as she giggled and blew you kiss. You smiled, catching the kiss and placing it over your heart before leaning back in your seat. 

“How long until we get there, Pops?” Your 12 year old son, Ollie, called out to your husband. “Not too far. buddy. Just another mile or so.” Steve responded and your 16 year old daughter, Marina, spoke up. “Ma showed me pictures of the house. I did some research on the house and did you know that the past 3 families that lived there died in random, gruesome deaths?”

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah, i read about that. Lots of people were saying it was cursed by an old witch who led some weird cult hundreds of years ago. Spoooooky.” You and Marina giggled while Steve rolled his eyes. “Daaaad, do you have to let them talk like that around me?’ Your son spoke up and you turned to face him. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I know how much you hate that kind of talk.” You gently patted his knee and gave a sympathetic smile while Marina sat back. “Sorry, Ollie. It’s just really interesting, ya know?” Ollie huffed as he rubbed your Golden Retriever’s head. “I guess...” He mumbled and Marina frowned a bit. “Don’t pout on me, man. Look, when we get there and we’re all settled how about we play a few rounds of Mortal Kombat?”

Ollie immediately smiled wide, a grin you loved to see. “You’re on!” 

“We’re here. The movers aren’t too far behind us.” Steve spoke as you pulled into the driveway of the house. It stood tall, a little dirty but nothing that couldn’t be power washed. Everything looked to be in good shape, windows in tact, shutters as well. A small swingset stood off to the side of the yard near a small lake. “I’ve seen the pictures but Steve...this beautiful.”

Your youngest daughter, Sommer, held onto Marina’s hand while Ollie and your dog, Piper walked around the trunk of the car to get their bags. “Duckie!” Sommer called out and you giggled, clapping your hands at her recognition. “Yes! That’s a Duckie!”

Steve walked around the back of the car and grabbed a few bags with very little strain while your son attempted to hide his strain. “You guys should start putting me in lifting classes.” Steve huffed out a laugh and looked down at his son. “You’re a little too young, kiddo. Let’s wait until 13 and see if still feel the same.”

You gently grabbed a bag from Steve’s arm and he gave you a look. “What? I’m not gonna let you carry all this on your own.” 

Marina quickly tugged the bag from your hand and you scoffed. “Your 8 and a half months pregnant. Let’s not induce your labor just yet.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, huffing as you grabbed Sommer’s hand. “I’ll unlock the door then. Wasn’t even a heavy bag.” You mumbled that last part and Steve sighed as you waddled off to open the door. 

“What are we gonna do with her, dad?” Marina spoke and Steve shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have no clue, doll. But enough stalling, let’s get these bags in so you guys can pick your rooms.”

That got the kids moving faster!

______________________________

The first few days were quiet, nothing  really going on since you all had moved in. The kids helped unpack while Steve did most of the brunt work. He and the kids, however, would not let you on your feet for more than 10 minutes. Even Sommer chimed in one time with a surprisingly stern “Mommy, sit.” 

Steve decided to leave his company’s work up to his best friends, Bucky and Sam, temporarily since you were due any minute now. 

The house was dusty considering no one had lived in it for over 50 years, needed a few renovations but nothing your Stevie couldn’t fix. 

Today was particularly quiet, Steve had ran out to pick up an extra can of paint and Marina and Ollie were at school. Sommer would have been home with you but Steve’s mom insisted on giving the two of you a break, especially you so she had taken your youngest for the week.

You gently hummed along to Anita Baker’s Sweet Love, softly singing the lyrics to yourself as you swayed. You were making dinner for the night, baked fish, grilled asparagus, and homemade mashed potatoes. You made triple what you really needed because Ollie and Steve alone could eat you out of a house. 

As you mashed the peeled and boiled potatoes you saw something dark quickly pass through your peripheral. Your head snapped up, your eyes immediately glancing at the doorway. “I think these floaters are getting worse.” You sighed and turned back to the small, steel, blue pot, seasoning the potatoes and mixing the dish before adding a bit of milk and letting it sit on low heat. 

You moved to check your fish before a thud from upstairs caught your attention. Your head snapped up. You quietly turned off the heat and wiped your hands before glancing out the window into the driveway. Steve wasn’t home yet so what the fuck was that?

You quietly grabbed the butcher knife the drawer and made your way towards the stairs. You huffed, calming your nerves before taking a step forward. you clutched the knife tightly in your hand as you took each step quietly. You were near the middl when the door opening startled you. You jumped and turned around, knife still in hand. 

“Honey, I’m ho--...i know your hormones are fucked but are you really about to stab me?” He spoke, a smirk on his lips as you rolled your eyes and came back down the steps. “It wasn’t for you. I thought I heard something upstairs. It was honestly probably just the house settling.” Despite the words you were saying you felt a cloud of unease engulf you. You rubbed your rounded belly for comfort as Steve rubbed your arms. He noticed the shaking in your words.

“Hey, hey. I’ll go check everything out up there and you just sit and take a moment to relax.” You nodded as he kissed your forehead and made his way up the steps quietly.

You sat the knife down in the kitchen. You leaned over the counter, taking deep breaths as your anxiousness continued to rise. Another loud thud caused you to flinch. You looked up at the ceiling before making your way back towards the stairs. Another thud made you jump, you were becoming even more weary by the second. “Steve?” You called out and it was silent for a moment before he made his way into your view. 

You took a breath but once registered his state you giggled. “I think I found what scared ya, doll.” His shirt was scratched across his chest and there were a few scratches on his hand but within it he held a raccoon. You giggled and he sighed, coming down the steps. “What were you doing up there little fella?” You spoke to the animal while following Steve as he took it to the tree line near the house. 

“Alright, go on.” He gently put the animal down and it scurried off into the woods. You sighed and walked back to the house, Steve following. 

Once inside you went back to your mashed potatoes, adding some shredded cheddar and parsley. Steve reached out to grab an asparagus and you smacked his hand. “I don’t think so. Go wash your hands and watch the game or something.”

“Excuse you, I prefer the design channel.”

“And that’s why I said or something.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” He smacked your behind before going to wash his hands. You chuckled, mixing the potatoes as the bus pulled up in front of your house.

____________

“Why didn’t you keep it?!” Ollie screeched at the dinner table and you smiled. He had always loved animals. 

“Because it was wild which means us keeping it as pet isn’t exactly ideal.” You spoke and Steve nodded in agreement. “I don’t know, a pet raccoon sounds kind of cool.” Marina chimed in.

“See!” You giggled and shook your head. “Finish your food and we’ll talk about a pet raccoon.” 

Immediately, Ollie stuffed his mouth full of the salmon and mashed potatoes he had laughed. You laughed and grabbed your plates, standing to your feet. Steve gently grabbed your wrist. “I told you i would handle the dishes, darling.” You rolled your eyes and leaned down to kiss his lips. “I’m just gonna put them in the sink and soak them in some warm water and soap. Make it a little easier for you.”

Steve sighed giving you a smile before letting you go. “Gross.” Ollie spoke up and Marina smacked him in the chest lightly. “it’s not gross. It’s sweet. Dad’s completely in love with mom and she’s the same with him.” 

Steve nodded. “Exactly. You’ll be there soon enough. You’re gonna see the prettiest dame you’ve ever seen in life and then you’re gonna be stuck on her.”

You chuckled softly at their conversation, turning to the sink and placing the dishes in after stopping it up. You poured a bit of soap onto the m before turning on the water. You grabbed the sprayer hose and held it over  dishes. You waited for a few seconds, casually glancing around before your eyes landed outside. You squinted, think you’d seen someone out there. You blinked and it looked like a body was hanging from the large oak tree outside. 

Your hands shook, your breathing beginning to come out in short bursts. You tried calling Steve but his name wouldn’t come out. Within seconds the figure appeared in front of you outside. You saw Marina, face pale and bruised, blood running from her mouth as she gave you a sinister smile. She reached out towards you, her eyes rolling back while she twitched violently. 

You managed to let out a blood curdling scream as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your heads clutched your shirt tightly as your eyes fell closed. Your screams got louder and soon you were wrapped in someone’s arms. You don’t know when but apparently you had sunken down to the floor. You were pulled tight against a broad chest with a voice oddly familiar whispering to you that you’re okay.

Your body continued to shake as you sobbed. “No, no, no, no. Marina!” You sobbed out and cried harder. You felt soft hands on your face. “Mom, open your eyes.” You shook your head. “No, please not my Marina...” You whispered out, still sobbing until a cracked voice finally brought you back to Earth. 

“Mom, please! I’m right here, I’m right here.” You opened your eyes slowly. A wail escaped your lips as you saw your oldest, perfectly fine aside from the tears running down her face. You gathered her in your arms and hugged tightly. You shook, holding her tightly.

“Baby, what happened?” Steve asked as you pulled away. You sniffled and shook your head, not able to describe what you had seen. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s just go to bed. Kids put the food away.” Steve picked you up in a fireman’s carry before making his way up the stairs and into your bedroom. Your shaking had subsided by now, thankfully and your breathing was back to normal.”Angel, what happened?” 

You shook your head and grabbed his hand. “I can’t...Steve, it was so horrible.” Your eyes welled up with tears again before Steve quickly climbed in beside you and wrapped you in his arms. 

“Okay, okay. It’s alright. Marina’s okay, Ollie’s okay, Sommer’s okay. They’re all okay.”

__________________

The next morning, Marina had given you an extra tight hug and so had Ollie. Sarah was gonna drop Sommer off a little later so you had some time to yourself. You sat on your couch, eating a chocolate bar dipped in melted peanut butter. Steve plopped down beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while his hand fell to your belly. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine. Feeling a little tired but otherwise, okay.” You rested your head on top of his while he gently pulled your shirt up. He sat up at the dark bruise that had appeared on your brown skin. “What’s that?” You looked down and set down your treat. “I have no clue.” 

“Does it hurt?” You shake your head and rub your belly. “Not at all.” Steve’s eyes shifted to your neck. The top of a dark bruise appeared there. He gently tugged down your collar and you glanced down, eyes widening at the bruise. “What the hell?” You spoke up and Steve sat back. “We should get that checked, babe.”

You eyed the bruises and nodded. “Yeah, but it’s just two. And they don’t hurt so.”

“But they’re bruises, Y/N.” Steve gave you a hardened look and you sighed.

“I’m fine. I promise. Besides we have a check up next week. We’ll ask about it then.”

Steve opened his mouth to rebuttal before the doorbell sounded. You immediately got up and answered, seeing Sarah and Sommer. “Mommy!” You giggled as she jumped in your arms. “Hey, baby. Hi, Ma” You leaned in and gave Sarah a kiss before inviting her in. “Oh, this place is lovely. Where’s Steven?”

“Right here, ma.

Sarah immediately moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. You always loved seeing them interact, especially since Sarah seemed so small compared to Steve. He always had to strain his back to even give her a proper hug. “Oh, I feel like I haven’t seen you two in ages. Where are my other babies?”

You handed Sommer to Steve and she giggled as he covered her face in kisses. “They’re at school, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Oh, darling, it was a part of the plan anyway.” You chuckled and sat down as Steve went o grab a snack for Sommer. 

“So, how’s my fourth baby?” Sarah asked as she sat down near you. “He’s fiiiine. A little rowdy.” You rubbed your belly and Sarah looked at you, something soft in her eyes. “And you, hon?”

“I’m...okay.” You gave her a poor attempt at a smile and she gave you a look before you sighed. “Well,I keep having these weird like...visions. I had the worst one last night after dinner. And then not even five minutes before you got here Steve found these random bruises. They don’t hurt but it’s like they just appeared out of thin air. God, I sound like I’m insane.”

You sighed and Sarah patted your knee. “No, darling, you don’t. This place is beautiful but it’s something off about it. I don’t know about things like this but I know someone who does. His name is Johnny Blaze. Get in touch with him and tell him everything you told me. He’ll know what’s going on.” 

You looked at her and sighed. “I’ll think about it but it’s probably just my mind fucking with me.”  Sarah gently kissed your temple, rubbing your back softly.

__________________

That night you grabbed your laptop and searched up Johnny Blaze. Apparently he was a sort of seer and had a gift to see through another side of our world. You weren’t too keen on calling him just yet so you favorited his info before shutting your laptop for the night. Steve climbed in bed shortly after, his hands immediately going for your tummy. 

A sigh passed through your lips, catching Steve’s attention. “What’s on your mind, Sugar?” You shrugged, gently carding your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. “I don’t know. All this weird, scary shit going is getting to me.” Steve chuckled and gently grabbed your hand before placing gentle kisses from your palm up to your shoulder. 

“It may just be stress, darling. Tomorrow I’ll take you, Sommer, Piper and our growing bean to the park. Maybe go for some ice cream? How’s that sound?” 

You gave him a soft smile before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sounds perfect.” You leaned over to turn off your lamp before sinking into the warm comforter, Steve wrapping himself around you.

You stood quietly on your front porch, watching Ollie run around with Piper trailing behind him. Marina and Sommer sat under the large oak tree in your yard coloring together while Marina played music for the two of them. Your hands gently grazed over your rounded belly, a smile gracing your lips as felt your baby kick. A sigh passed through your lips as you turned to go back inside but you were immediately met with cold, dark, and dialated pupils.

Your breathing got stuck in your throat as the face of this...thing twisted into a menacing grin. Teeth dirty and rotten, saliva black and dripping from it’s mouth. You clutched your belly tighter as it began to speak. “I’ll take them by your hand.” It spoke, it’s voice low and gravelly. You opened your mouth to scream and it took the opportunity to force it’s hand down your throat. 

Your scream was immediately silenced as your hands attempted to claw at the thing standing in front of you. You felt a searing pain, like they were ripping something from you before it began screeching at you in a grating voice.

“WAKE UP.”

You became conscious to the fact that something was shaking you, gently but urgently. You heard feet padding around the room and seemingly distant pleas for you to wake up. Then you became aware of the screaming. Who the hell is screaming like that? Your eyes snapped open and you finally completely registered your surroundings and that you were in fact the one screaming. 

Your eyes darted around as your screams died down to short bursts of air. You noticed your children, then Steve, and finally a warm, wet sensation underneath you. “Y/N, baby! What happened?”

You don’t answer, just rip the sheets from your body. You immediately recognize the fluid currently making your sheets see through, a large pool of it forming under you. Your bottom lip shakes as you grip Steve’s hand when his eyes finally see what you’re staring at. 

You groan as a sharp pain sears through your abdomen, tears immediately forming. You vaguely hear Steve telling Marina to grab towels and put them in the car. You hear him telling Ollie to take Sommer back to bed as he picks you up and leads you down the steps and to the car. 

“Call your grandmother and tell her your mom is in labor. Do not open the door for anyone, she has a key. Get back inside.” Steve rushes out before putting you in the car and kissing her head. Another wave of pain hits and you wince, trying to breathe through it. You weren’t supposed to be feeling contractions this close were you?

___________________

Steve rushes down the highway as fast, yet safely as possible. He strokes your head and tells you encouraging words as sweat beats down on you and you try to contain the pain you feel. 

It feels like hours before Steve is finally ripping your door open and carrying you into the emergency room. “Help! My wife’s in labor!” He yells out and it immediately catches the attention of nurses. The grab a gurney and Steve places you on it before he follows you and the multiple nurses pulling you to the nearest delivery room.

You let out a strangled groan as another contraction rips through you, squeezing the hand of whoever was beside you. You couldn’t focus, the pain was intense and the bright lights made it no better. You vaguely hear someone over the intercom paging a doctor.

Your body is lifted and you’re shifted to a more stable bed as a woman rushes in. “How far are the contractions?” You groan as another one hits you and the nurse replies but you can’t hear. All of a sudden a masked face is hovering over yours, stroking your hair. A soft voice speaks, “Alright, Mrs. Rogers. I know this is soon but you need to push.”

A sob racks your body as another excruciating pain rips through you. You listen as best you can, pushing and stopping when they tell you to. Steve is right beside you, speaking sweet, encouraging words in your ear as you struggle to compose your pain vocally.

Finally, the stretching, the burning sensation, the pain all stops and you’re panting. You smile, you did it. You relax back into the bed before your eyes snap open. Why isn’t your baby crying? You sit up and you blink as your doctors roll your baby away. “Wait...wait! Where are they taking him!? Why can’t I hold my baby?”

Steve attempts to try to calm you but you don’t care. Where is your baby? Why won’t they let you see him? You start to thrash, vehemently trying to get up to follow but nurses hold you down. You feel a soft prick in your arm before you’re suddenly losing consciousness.

________________________________

When you come to Steve is there, his eyes rimmed red and clutching your hand as he sniffles. You groan, looking around the room slowly becoming aware of where you were. Oh, you had your baby! Where is he/she? You turn to Steve, gently squeezing his hand. He looks up and you frown at the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Where’s the baby?” You mutter softly and Steve sits up straighter, gripping your hand in both of his. 

He gives you a sorrowful look and you blink at him. He starts shaking his head and trying to find the right words to say this to you but you already register it. You remembered what happened after you have birth. You look at him in disbelief, shaking your head. “No, Steve...” You call out for him but his eyes fall to the ground. You start to shake, your mouth opening and closing, forming into a grimace as you feel unimaginable pain rip through your chest. “No, please, no....” You stutter, your breathing picking up as Steve stands, pulling your hand to his chest. You fight him, tears rushing down your cheeks as screams of sorrow escape you.

You fight Steve so hard he has to climb into your hospital and tightly wrap his arms around you while laying his weight on you. You let out a gut wrenching howl of agony into his chest. Steve just holds you tighter as nurses rush in. They stop at the sight, understanding your pain since they were the ones who helped deliver your still born.

____________________________

You’re released from the hospital a few days later but you’re not the same. when you get home you don’t acknowledge your children who come rushing towards you. You don’t acknowledge Sarah as she gives an understanding, pain filled look. You just walk inside and immediately go to your bedroom.

Steve explains what happened to the kids, explaining it a bit differently to Sommer since she was only 3. When he speaks to his mother, her face twists in horror. “I’d never seen her like that, Ma. She was so hurt and in pain. The doctors were even considering keeping her and putting her on suicide watch.”

When Steve goes upstairs that night he hears you sobbing, he joins you. His arms are tight around you and he’s holding you tight as you shake. He’s comforting you but there’s an unsettling pit in his stomach and he doesn’t know why.

Things get worse over the next month. You had barely spoken a word since. You’ve barely showered on your own. Your kids have become weary of you. Marina tries to talk to you when you��re downstairs but you just stair off into space. Ollie attempts to get you to play with him and Piper but you ignore him. Poor Sommer keeps showing you her art but you don’t care. Steve tells them to give you time but they’re worried, scared even.

Steve’s scared too. More bruises keep appearing. Every time the dog comes near you she barks and you damn near growl back at her, sending her scurrying away. Your usually glowing deep, brown skin has become dull, lifeless. Your curls would usually be messy but full of life and always had a purposeful place in your hairstyles but now he began to notice areas beginning to become matted. You didn’t let him touch you in anyway whatsoever.

One day Steve goes to pick up dinner while you’re home alone. The kids are at school and Sommer tagged along with Steve. You’re sitting on the couch, in a old Howard University sweatshirt when Piper rounds the corner and begins barking at you. You ignore it as Piper begins to turn her attention elsewhere and then she begins barking at the corner. 

You sigh and get up, opening the front door and she runs out. You silently make your way back to the couch and sit. You hear a whimper and a loud crack but you ignore it.

________________________

Ollie discovers the dog. Its neck twisted in a sick way and blood oozing out. Steve nearly loses his lunch. The next day, they bury her under the tree out front. When Steve turns, rubbing Ollie’s back he sees you staring out from the kitchen window. You turn silently and walk away but he doesn’t expect to see a pale woman, teeth black giving him a sinister grin before he turns, not realizing he had stopped breathing.

A week after that he wakes up to Sommer screaming bloody murder in her room. He rushes over and sees her thrashing under the covers. Marina rushes in as Steve picks her up and holds her tight while she cries into his shoulder. When he turns towards the door he sees you just as you turn to go back to your shared room. Sommer begs him to protect her from the scary lady with no teeth that night and he does.

Marina, unbeknownst to Steve, had seen the woman too. She had seen her the night you had your breakdown in the kitchen and since then she’s been doing her research. She talked to her grandmother the night you went to the hospital and Sarah had given Marina the same advice she had given you: Call Johnny Blaze.

The following morning after Sommer’s incident, Marina sits across the table from Steve as he reads. “Dad...” Steve looks up, placing the paper down. “Yes, sweetheart?’

“I’ve seen the lady. The lady with no teeth...I’ve seen her too. Except she’s not toothless it just looks like she has tar as saliva..”

Steve pauses and sighs, grabbing his daughter’s hand as she continues. “I think that’s why mom is being so weird. I did the research on this house and mom was right. A witch did curse this place and I think she’s coming after mom.”

Steve chewed his lip before sighing. “Marina...” He begins but she stops him. “Dad. please. I even looked up the stages of possession. Oppression, break down the victim. That thing has been terrorizing mom since we got here. Obsession, consume their life. All of us has seen that woman, even Sommer and Ollie. And then possession, I think it’s in the process of that right now with mom. I think...It’s plan is to kill all of us.”

Steve scoffed and Marina shook her head, frantically trying to make her dad listen. “I know you’ve seen the way Piper acted around mom. Dogs are good senses of characters and spirits. She loved mom, why would she just turn all of a sudden. And...And...I’ve caught mom standing over Ollie’s bed, just staring. I even caught her staring at me once at night, growling at me.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this?”

“I was scared! I wasn’t sure if I had just dreamed or what but...I think she tried to get Sommer last night and when you stopped her she was pissed so that’s why we--”

She was cut off by Steve dragging across the table as a chair was launched in her direction. She screamed as Steve immediately dropped to the floor. “We need to call Johnny Blaze.”

_____________

The next night Johnny was there, he greets Steve and the children. He steps into the house and winces. “Ah, I think it’s best if you’re children leave. As soon as possible.”

Steve nods and grabs his phone to calls his mom as he rushes the kids upstairs to grab a set of clothes for the night. He tells Sarah to come immediately and she’s already on her way out the door before he hangs up. He turns towards Johnny, wringing his hands together, “Can you really help my wife?” 

Johnny nods, looking around the house. “I can but she has to work just as hard to fight whatever it is that’s attached itself to her and is trying to crawl inside.” Steve nods and opens his mouth to speak before a scream from up the steps catches both of their attention.

Both men rush up the stairs to see you holding Sommer by the neck with a pair of scissors trying to come down into her chest. Marina is holding that hand back while Ollie is shaking in the corner. Steve grips him by the shoulders. “Go outside, your grandmother will be here. Do not come back in this house!” Ollie follows, rushing down the steps.

Johnny manages to pry the scissors from your hands and Marina is wrenching your hand from around her little sister’s neck. When Sommer is finally free she runs as best as her tiny legs can, taking the same path as Ollie. Steve tackles you to the ground when you attempt to chase after, pinning his body weight on top of you. 

“Marina, go!” Steve yells towards her and she hesitates before leaving the room as well. You’re growling like an animal and Steve finally gets a good look at you he cringes. Your pupils are dilated and tiny. Your face is sunken and there’s cuts covering it, you smell awful and your skin looks lifeless. He feels tears forming in his eyes while Johnny is speaking some words in a foreign language. You twist and howl beneath your husband as he continues. He watches as your back arches, a loud crack threatening to send bile up his throat. “What are you doing?! You’re hurting her, stop that!”

Johnny ignores him and continues as Steve watches you claw and scratch at his hands, you’re screaming but your voice sounds distorted, like yours and someone else’s were mixing. Then he heard you, your voice calling him. “Steve, please!” You yelled out and Steve panted, shaking his head before leaning down and whispering how much he loved you and how strong you were in your ear.

You sobbed as Johnny continued his chanting, only being able to assume he was trying to get this witch out of you. When he sat up to look at you he was taken aback, seeing the woman with tar in her mouth grinning at him. She spoke to him, her voice gravelly like someone had taken a cheese grater to her vocal cords. “She screams for you, Stevie. Come get her, Stevie. Come get her!” The woman taunts before letting out a laugh. 

Suddenly, you’re yanked from underneath with such force he couldn’t hold on. “Y/N!” You’re tumbling down the stairs before you’re on your feet and yanking the front door open. “She’s going for the kids!” Johnny yells after Steve. Steve’s almost to you when you’re suddenly running, dragging Ollie behind you as you make your way to the kitchen in haste. 

Ollie screams, grasping your wrist as you laugh loudly, sinister smile on your lips. You grab the nearest knife and turn, smiling at Steve as Marina, Sommer, and Johnny rush in. “I’m gonna take all this bitch’s children one by one then I’m gonna take her.” The woman’s voice rings out and Steve rushes forward to grab your hand. You’re struggling enough to have to let Ollie go, trying to fight off Steve. 

“No! Y/n, I know you hear me. I need you to fight this thing, you have children who need you. I need you.” He pleads and the witch laughs. “She’s weak, Stevie. And I’ll take her and all you bastards down with me!”

“Mom, please!” Marina calls out and you pause, almost as if the got through to you, the real you. “I need you, mom. Please, Ollie and Sommer need you!” 

Your lip quivers as you stare at Steve. “Y/n, you have to keep this thing under control while i do this.” Johnny reaches to place a hand on your chest and you shake your head. “No, no. She won’t let me go, she won’t.”

Johnny shook his head. “Yes, she will...” You smile at him. “She’ll terrorize us...them. Thank you for helping my family as best you could but she’ll never let them go.”

 You look at you children, giving them a teary smile before mouthing ‘I love you.’ You turn to Steve and stroke his cheek with your free hand, “I love you so much, Stevie. You were first and only love. I need you to take care of my babies for me.”

Steve shook his head. “No, Johnny is gonna get that bitch out of you and you’re gonna take care of them with me...” His voice shakes and you shake your head, gently kissing his lips. “Take care of my babies and move on...for me.” You smile at him, sadness and light in your eyes before you rip your hand from him and plunge the knife into your chest. You vomit immediately afterwards, black liquid escaping your mouth and spilling onto the floor. When you finished you still went limp slightly shaking as  clutched onto Steve.

You gasp, sinking to your knees while still clutching the knife. Steve called out to you frantically, sinking with you as he held your face. Your children rushed over and Steve tried to shield them from you but Marina reached out, touching your cheek. 

“Look after your dad for me, baby. T-tell Sommer that i l-loved her...every day.” You whispered and Marina nodded, kissing your hand as you turned, looking uo to see Ollie. He was confused, you could tell so you turned to Steve. “Remind him how m-much i loved him...”

Steve sobbed, letting his tears fall onto your face as he shakily kissed your lips. You looked at him, giving him a final smile before you let go. Steve watched the life leave your eyes, held you tight as you went limp in his arms. He sobbed into your chest, letting shaking his head as he screamed into your chest. 

You weren’t coming back, you couldn’t come back.

_______________________ 

Your funeral wasn’t big, just with close friends and family. The immediate family released yellow butterflies in your honor once you had been lowered into the ground while your friends released white butterflies.

Steve held your children close, hugging them tightly and then he noticed something. Sommer’s butterfly refused to leave its jar. He tried to coax it out but it just backed deeper into the jar. He felt tears slowly rolling down his cheeks as he smiled, knowing that it was indication that you were gone but you’d always be right there. 

_________________________________________________

A/N: Yes, I ended on a corny sappy note because i WANTED TO. Hope ypu enjoyed! :)

[creednight]

No Place Like Home

I’ve finally figured out the plot for the rest of this, so hopefully it won’t be as dead. Cheap ending, but I think y’all deserve the fluff. As usual, I appreciate everyone’s patience, I am determined to finish this. This is Chapter 12. Chapter 11 is here.

The sound of thunder jerks (Y/N) out of her sleep the next morning. You lean up to peek out from your curtains to find some dark clouds circling overhead and fall back on your pillow with a sigh. 

    “How was yesterday so nice, but today so shitty?” you groan to yourself.

    Your body feels like Jell-o from the fun of yesterday at the beach, you love the warm feeling of being out in the sun all day. Especially the next day. 

    The house is oddly quiet, you glance at your clock to see it’s ten in the morning, a time when Arno and Ezio are stumbling from their rooms to get some breakfast. Evie is usually up early, dragging Jacob with her, to do whatever it is they do in the morning while Connor eats his breakfast and stays in his room to do whatever it is he does. 

    Did you make breakfast already? You text Connor, already knowing the answer. 

    Yes, want me to make you some? His reply comes through a minute later. 

    You smile at his kindness. Nah, I bet you’re busy. I’ve got a plan B. You send that to him and then open up a new text for Jacob. I’m not feeling too well :( Do you mind bringing up some water and breakfast for me?

    If anything, he and Evie are in the kitchen talking as they do in the morning, and since he hides food in the weirdest places (a fact you found out by accident) it’ll be worth the flirting. 

    “Oh, (Y/N)!” 

    Sure enough, after some rustling downstairs, you laugh to yourself at the sing song in his voice. His loud steps stop outside your door where he knocks generously and pops it open with ceremony. He crosses the room in a few steps, marveling at you as you sit up and stretch. 

    “I brought you a glass of water,” he sets it on the bedside table before showing you the plate of food he brought. “Evie made breakfast, so if it’s shite it’s her fault. It’s a veggie omelette, toast, and some fruit. From me,” he winks and pulls out a bag of snacks from his coat, “Some chips and chocolate.”

    “Thank you,” you smile at him, accepting the plate and bag from his hands. “You’re the best.”

    “Of course I am,” he smirks, his chest puffing out a bit. “If you need anything else, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Connor. Evie and I have business elsewhere and the other two oafs are running errands.”

    You pout. “I don’t get to see my twins today?”

    “Chin up, love,” he rubs his finger under your chin. “You still have five days of break left, you’ll get your Frye time.”

    The twins head out, leaving you to finish eating on your own until Connor comes lumbering down the stairs. You check your watch and frown. “Hungover?”

    He pauses in opening the fridge to regard you with a confused frown. When you gesture to the time, he snickers. “I am allowed to sleep in, (Y/N).”

    “Well, yes, but still,” you muse watching as he prepares his own breakfast. “So. It’s you and I today.”

    “So it is,” he nods, whipping eggs together. “I have nothing planned for your break aside from yesterday.”

    “I remember you said that,” you finish off your breakfast and set the dishes in the sink. “Wanna go to the farmer’s market? There’s good food there.”

    “Yeah, I have an errand to run still, so I’ll text you when I’m coming back,” he grins.

    “What kind of errand?” you round the counter to watch him. You watch as his body tenses up and he averts his gaze. 

    “Gotta drop off some woodwork for a friend,” he shrugs. “Shouldn’t take more than two hours.”

    “Oh, okay.”

    You leave him be then, heading up the steps to take a shower and possibly text Stella to see how her vacation’s going. You make a mental note about Connor’s reaction to think about as break goes on. Weird things have happened since you moved in and you would be a fool to ignore it or claim otherwise. 

    When Connor leaves, you get a head start on assignments given to you at the last minute and get your study guides together in prep for the quizzes when break is over. You find yourself wanting time to move faster so you can see Connor again and try to convince yourself it’s because he’s your best friend. 

After all, you feel the same when the others in the house are going to spend time with you. So you ignore that bubbly feeling and focus on your work until you hear a horn beep outside. 

“Shit,” you realize you missed the notification on your phone from Connor and hurry to get dressed in something comfy to wear in the spring heat. 

In minutes, you’re ready and bounding down the steps with your bag in tow and sandals fastened. Connor’s playing chill music as you get in, he greets you with a grin and a smoothie from the place you like in town. It warms your heart to see him pass it to you, a shy smile on his face when yours lights up like the sky midday when you see it. 

“Thank you,” you hum in appreciation, taking a sip. “My favorite.”

“Good,” he smiles, backing out of the driveway. “What’s on our shopping list?”

“Mmm. I just brought the bag in case we saw something we wanted,” you shrug, watching as houses go by. “How was errands?”

“It went well,” he replies easily. “The afternoon market is different than the morning crew, right?”

You make an affirmative sound while sipping your smoothie. 

Not as busy as the morning market, you and Connor find yourselves lost in the booths, trying on the handmade jewelry and clothing, taste testing some jams, jellies, and fruits in season. It’s a grand time for the both of you. No pressure from outside forces or forced intimate encounters as you peruse the items on sale. 

While you’re looking, though, you can’t help but feel as though Connor is more of a bodyguard as time goes on. He glances this way and that, as if someone is going to pop out of nowhere and do something. Given your past encounters with Blighters, you half expect it to. 

So when a hand grabs and pulls you away from the path, you are ready. Grabbing Connor and clinging to him for life until the voice coming from behind you lets out a familiar laugh.

“Damn, can’t surprise this one, yeah?” Edward scoffs when Connor wraps an arm around your waist, his hand ready to break the other man’s arm. “No worries, son. I was just having a laugh.”

Connor lets out a disgruntled sound. “You couldn’t think of anything less dramatic?”

“Mmm, no,” Edward releases you and grins. You hate how handsome it looks. “How are ya, lass?”

“I’m better knowing it was you grabbing me,” you straight your clothes, holding onto Connor’s arm for a moment longer before letting go and patting it. He takes a step away, his eyes no longer scanning the crowd. “Did you know he was following us?”

“I could tell someone was, but he was far away enough I couldn’t see who,” Connor crosses his arms. “Where’s Ade?”

“Getting some ice cream,” the blonde jerks a thumb back towards a booth selling homemade ice cream. “Join us?”

Connor looks to you for an answer, when you nod, he smiles and gestures for you to go ahead and lead the way. 

“Uptight, isn’t he?” Edward nudges you with his arm, offering it for you to take. “Like having a guard dog.”

“He’s been like this all day,” you giggle, accepting his arm. 

Edward laughs. “Gets it from his parents. Both so serious, blink and you’ll miss the jokes they have.”

“Interesting,” you sneak a look back to see Connor gazing in a different direction, but with the slightest smile on his face. “So, you’ve known him a long time?”

“Yes, lass. It’s why he calls me Grandpa,” Edward grins. “Though, I don’t look like one much.”

I’ll say, you think to yourself. Edward’s a handsome man, and you would be a fool to not admit the attraction you felt when his blue eyes roamed your face. But it was something you would never pursue...

You don’t get long to dwell on it when Ade comes up, enjoying some ice cream and looking like a kid in a candy shop. Edward and Connor go off to get some bowls for you and themselves. Leaving you to listen to stories of the old days with Edward on the sea. They work as fishermen with their own crew and boat and the sights they’ve seen, well, you are glued to your seat. 

“Don’t bore her with that now,” Edward interrupts a little while later, two bowls in hand. He slides one to you as he takes a seat next to his old friend. “We have to tell her baby stories of Ratonhnhaketon.”

“No, you don’t,” Connor replies as if turning away an extra topping. 

“Yes, please,” you laugh and watch as Connor grumbles and pouts next to you. “Was he a chubby baby?”

“Like a cannoli,” Edward laughs. 

You nearly choke on your ice cream, coughing to get some air and laughing at the thought of a baby Connor being as chubby as a cannoli. The young man groans, dropping his head in his hands as Edward goes to describe Connor’s early life. 

It’s a fun time and it flies by just as quick. The park clears up of booths and people until it’s just them at their table, ice cream bowls set aside, and the two older men in the midst of a harrowing story from the sea. You’re watching with all your attention, your eyes big and mouth agape just a bit. Connor eyes you, a smile growing on his face at how cute you are.

“But we lived,” Edward shrugs as though they shouldn’t have. 

“I’m shocked,” you snort. “How do you guys still have jobs?”

Edward gathers the garbage and winks at her. “Gotta take risks nowadays.”     “It’s because I get us out of trouble with people,” Adewale snickers. “This man may get us into shit, but I get us out.”

“Now that’s not true,” Edward argues with a grin. 

“True enough,” Ade laughs. He claps his hands and stands. “But, that’s enough listening to old men. You two should get going, it’s getting late.”

“We will,” Connor yawns, standing up to stretch. “Thanks for the ice cream, Grandpa.”

“Anytime, lad,” Edward grins at them. 

You and Connor take your leave, he opens the door for you and shuts it once you’re settled in. When you guys get home, Connor helps you put the groceries you bought away and sets up the TV for a movie night. You grab some snacks and cuddle into his side, grateful to have a relaxing day as opposed to the hectic one yesterday. Your head lolls onto his shoulder as the movie goes on, his scent and warmth lulling you into a sweet sleep. 

Connor relishes the feel of you next to him, he even adjusts so you fall in the crook of his arm. It’s no surprise you fell asleep, being at home relaxes you so much and he knows being close to him makes you feel safe. It makes his chest swell with pride to see you comfortable around him. But his mission today is a reminder he has been getting too close for comfort. 

The thought sours his mood. He pauses the movie, a Disney movie, and picks you up in his arms with ease. His steps remain quiet as he brings you to your room and sets you down on your bed, just like he did the day before, and leans over to kiss your cheek again. It makes a smile form on his face and he feels like... hmm. He thinks about it at the top of the stairs. What do you make him feel like? A fool. A child.

As he cleans up the living room he smiles to himself knowing that it’s not that bad to be attached to you. For now.

[scoopsohboi]

shut up! i like her

Pairing: steve harrington/henderson!reader

W/C: 1642

Summary: you’re walking around starcourt and decide to grab ice cream. you see steve for the first time since high school and he’s changed a lot since then. 

-more steve readers-

-st readers-

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. He’d been off his game for a while, since Nancy really, and it was starting to take a toll on him. He used the same charm and smile he did in high school, the ones that crowned him king of Hawkins High, but he’d changed so much since then that it felt flat. He couldn’t play the part of popular guy now that school was over, and since his life had turned Upside Down, he wasn’t much of a panty chaser. Or dropper evidently. Robin smiled from the ice cream shop window as she revealed her newest tally against him on her precious whiteboard where she catalogued his flirting failures. At least someone’s having a good time, he thought with a sigh.

Robin straightened up a little then, hiding the board quickly as she looked over Steve’s shoulder. “Show time, Romeo,” she said and Steve bit back a snarky retort as he spun around, preparing to strike out once again. No performance this time. Steve was going to be real for once. The king routine was getting him nowhere and he was exhausted of the role.

You were lazily walking through the mall, talking advantage of the air-conditioning and spending the afternoon window shopping. You didn’t have too many friends in Hawkins, even though you’d lived there your whole life. Your best friend moved away after high school graduation to go to college in Texas and you had to stoop so low as to ask your little brother to hang out. You loved Dustin, but he wasn’t exactly someone to talk to about girl stuff or anything ‘R’ rated. You felt extra deflated when even he was too busy for you, always away at friends’ houses and sneaking out at night. You missed having fun. Now the only times you got out was when you went to work at Chuck E. Cheese or to the grocery store with your mom.

As you reached the food court, you caught eye of an ice cream shop and your stomach growled a little. It was such a hot day, your mouth practically watered at the thought of a cone with a scoop of your favorite. As you approached the counter you noticed the face of a girl you went to high school with, Robin, poking out from a back service window. You smiled and raised one of your hands in a wave, but you couldn’t help the look of confusion you had when your brain registered the boy who stood just behind the counter.

“Steve?” you asked, not really believing that Steve Harrington would work at a Scoops Ahoy inside of Starcourt- or anywhere for that matter. His family was rich; he lived in one of the biggest homes in the neighborhood. You couldn’t understand why he would subject himself to wearing a sailor costume and slinging ice cream, with a dorky hat no less. You were shocked he wasn’t worried about his precious hair getting ruined.

“Oh, uh- hey, Y/N,” Steve said, a blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Ahoy…captain,” you smirked, half convinced you were at home asleep having a really wild dream. Steve’s face turned redder and you felt a little bad for embarrassing him. “Since when do you work here?” you asked, trying to redirect the conversation a little.

“Summer job,” he shrugged. “I’m trying to save up for college.”

“Really? You?” you asked, still shocked.

“Yeah,” he said, looking down as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Basketball didn’t work as planned- didn’t get any sports scholarships. Dad’s not exactly thrilled, so if I want to go to college now I have to pay for it.” You blinked in surprise. You didn’t expect Steve to tell you all that. You two weren’t friends in school, but you were more than just classmates. You’d gone to some of Harrington’s wild parties and even shared a round of 7 Minutes in Heaven together in seventh grade at Carol’s thirteenth birthday party. But at the end of the day he’d been prom king and you were just a girl who didn’t care about labels.

“Damn,” you began, feeling more guilty about poking fun at him. “That’s rough. I’m sorry, Steve.” He smiled, though his eyes didn’t. He was playing a part again. Always Steve the cool guy.

“It’s alright. Gives me time to figure out what the fuck I want to do with my life.” Or maybe not? This was definitely not the Steve you went to school with. Since when was he into having an actual conversation? Usually Harrington just dished out flattery at the hopes of a date, or more if he was lucky.

You’d seen a few rare glimpses of the real Steve, though, whether he remembered or not. Three separate instances where Steve had been very drunk, the two of you had wandered off somewhere private, and he’d been very honest with you. He would talk about how much he hated Tommy and Carol. How his dad would always put him down for his grades. How people never really wanted to know the real him. It never lasted, though. Someone would always be looking for King Steve and he’d jump back up, walls in place cemented with a stupid drunken grin to remain life of the party. Anything to make people happy. “What about you?” he asked, breaking your train of thought.

“Huh?” You had completely forgotten what you two had been talking about, mind a few years in the past. “Oh, same, actually. I’m kind of losing my mind a little bit,” you said easily with a smile. “But hey, animatronic rats really help with the anxiety.” Steve laughed at that, a real, hearty laugh that you couldn’t help but join in a little.

“Jesus, that’s right, I forgot you work at Chuck E. Cheese.”

“What? How did you know?” You’d only been working there for two months and you’d been going out of your way to make sure no one saw you there. Ever. Labels aside, you didn’t need everyone to know you were serving pizza to sobbing children for less than minimum wage. Steve’s ears turned red.

“I’ve seen you there.” Your eyes widened a little as you waited for him to elaborate. “I was driving by one day about a month ago and I saw you walking in wearing the red vest.”

“Lovely,” you muttered under your breath, slightly mortified that you’d been caught. Steve leaned coolly against the counter and you couldn’t help but notice the change in proximity.

“Nah, it wasn’t that bad. Way better than this,” he said, gesturing to his own ensemble. You bit your lip to try and hide the big smile that grew on your lips. Dammit if this new Steve wasn’t doing something to you. You knew he’d become friends with Dustin over the past couple months, but other than a quick greeting as Dustin jumped into Steve’s car before the two drove off for sometimes more than a day, you hadn’t gotten the opportunity to really talk to the guy. He seemed like he’d matured a lot, though, and it looked damn good on him.

“I don’t know,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest and taking him in for a moment. “I think the hat really brings it all together.” Steve smirked and cocked an eyebrow, clearly in the mood to play along.

“I know, right? Let’s just say, we’re not famous for the ice cream. They come for it, but that’s not why they stick around,” he adds with a wink.

“Wow,” you breathed. Now that sounded more like the Steve you remembered, though you could tell his words held none of their old weight. He looked clearly amused, enjoying messing around with you and waiting to hear what you’d say next. God, he was adorable. “Is that on the secret menu I don’t know about?” You asked, glancing around the room as if looking for a poster when your eyes found an elderly woman in the corner who looked like she was about to fall asleep in her banana split. “I think you rocked her world a little too much.”

Steve broke with a laugh that lit up his whole face, hair swaying into his eyes before he combed it back with his hand. “Couldn’t handle the U.S.S. Butterscotch,” he said and you raised a brow at him.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Trust me, babe, it’s an ocean of flavor,” he added. You leaned your elbow onto the counter, face inches from Steve’s. His gaze darted to your lips so fast you almost thought you’d imagined it, but his tongue darted out to wet his own as eyes fixed onto yours.

“Well, then, I gotta try it.”

“How about tonight?” he asked seriously, voice soft and gentle- hopeful. You found yourself nodding before you even registered what was happening. Steve smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Y/N??” a familiar voice called from behind and you looked over your shoulder to see Dustin making his way to the counter. “What are you doing here?” You shrugged, looking back at Steve as Dustin reached you.

“Just talking to Steve,” you responded nonchalantly. Dustin eyed suspiciously at you before turning his gaze to Steve. His eyes narrowed as he continued to switch back and forth between you two before finally settling on Steve. Steve looked at Dustin like he was crazy before lightly shoving the kid’s shoulder.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo.”

“You didn’t,” was all Dustin said, stumbling slightly. Steve still kept the same look on his face, but it didn’t remain for long under Dustin’s intensity. Steve cracked as Dustin let out a loud groan in protest. “Gross, dude, that’s my sister! What the hell?”

“Shut up! I like her!”

[fisherfurbearer]

Why Enrichment Matters, and Why Improvement Never Ends

Animal enrichment is a never-ending process of learning and always, forever striving to improve.

I haven’t said much about the pair of button quail we adopted earlier this year, but they’re really something special. I’ve never owned birds before them, but I had done a lot of research into quail off and on and I’ve always obsessed over birds in general, but nothing else is like actually owning one in my own house. I’ve learned so much from just observing them and making small changes to their environment and care, and it has benefited them so much.

Wasabi (rooster) and Mushroom (hen) were hatched and reared by a local couple to us, along with several other roosters and hens that they hatched at the same time. Not realizing until later that button quail, especially roosters, are territorial and do best in pairs, they were looking to adopt out most of their quail to good homes, and we decided to adopt two of them.

Being hand-reared, they aren’t as horrifically skittish as I’ve heard other button quail to be (I’ve heard stories of some that are so nervous they bolt upwards to the point of hurting themselves if anyone so much as comes near their enclosure, and they remain Extremely Stressed after any enclosure maintenance!!) but they were NOT, and are not, handleable. Which was fine by me, I never expected them to be cuddly, but it was a little disheartening that they didn’t seem as relaxed as I wish they would be. Even after they calmed down and adjusted to being together (they were both housed separately before, but quickly bonded and have never had any issues) and being in a new environment, they would spend a lot of their time awake pacing and pecking at the walls, acting agitated even though they had room to move and plenty of food/water. I even gave them treats, which would calm them down for a short period of time, but soon after they would be back to pacing.

We have now had the pair for almost five months now, and so much has changed. I don’t think my initial care of them was ever BAD, per se...they’re still in the same enclosure they started in, with the same wood decor and they get the same treats...but all of the small changes I made over time have definitely made a difference.

After spending so much time watching their interactions and behaviors, I managed to test many different ideas and slowly alter and Improve their living environment and husbandry to what it is now.

This was their original set up right before I got them:

It’s not BAD, not at all! But it really wasn’t best for the birds. This was my first time owning any bird, let alone a ground-dwelling bird like button quail, so using my research and some assumptions I tried to come up with a set up that might make them feel more comfortable while also giving them space to perform natural behaviors. The substrate was a modified mix of my tarantula substrate (topsoil, coco coir, vermiculite, and sand) with extra soil for dust bathing. I used half-pint mason jars as food and water dishes, and (not shown here) mason jar lids for oyster shell and grit.

It was alright. There was some cover for them to duck under, and plenty of open space too, but I quickly realized it wasn’t nearly enough cover to make them feel Secure, and the semi-transparent sides may have been contributing to their pacing.

Over the weeks, I experimented...

I mixed up the wood placement, substrate choices (turns out 100% soil isn’t best, actually! They LOVE soil/sand for dust bathing, but it’s better as one specific corner, and pure RINSED sand is their favorite!), messed around with adding cover and changing foliage color/types, I tried growing live plants early on (that was a huge failure, by the way), experimented with different types of treats and forages (millets, roaches, and black soldier fly larvae are big favorites!!!), and learned a lot from watching their behaviors.

Over time, they grew bolder, and CALMER.

Here is their enclosure today, for reference:

It’s been a while since I last switched them over to their newest substrate (mostly soft paper bedding with a corner of play sand) and decor, and I haven’t noticed ANY pecking or pacing. Sometimes Mushy will pace the front of the enclosure and peer through the crack in the door, but she never pecks like she used to. They don’t even crow as much these days...they both have a wide variety of beeps, songs, and crows, but they only make a huge fuss if they’re low on water or food. In a way, they’ve trained me to keep all of their resources in tip-top condition and I’m convinced that soon they’ll figure out how to beg for treats, too!! Every time I open the door (to spot clean, replace water/food, remove eggs, etc.) I ALWAYS scatter healthy treats or leave a dish of insects for them, and it GREATLY reduces maintenance-associated stress. In the past week, she won’t even run from my hands!! (Well okay, today she ran, but I also had to remove her Secret Egg Stash and a lot of bedding from the sand so the movement set her off, but still, usually she’s good) Most of the time she waits for the doors to close before she dives for treats, but a couple times now she will wait for me to put it down in front of her, and will even eat with the door open and me sitting right there!! She’s still not perfect (again, today she was more antsy, but I don’t blame her) but she, and Bibi, come such a long way.

(Wasabi holding a One Singular bug for his wife to come take. He’s such a good husband and saves the best treats just for her. <3)

I attribute this to a mixture of changes, of course. It took a while to get this far and a LOT of adjustments, but it’s been worth it. I would say the greatest changes we made were...

- Keep general maintenance quick, calm, and Consistently reward door openings with treats. Scattered treats (ex. millet balls/individual seeds) are superior to entire millet sprays or dishes. ALWAYS remove birds from enclosure and place inside a dark, soft-sided box covered with a blanket for Safety during full cage cleans. GREATLY reduces stress associated with free-roaming.

- Multiple substrate types are better than one. Soft paper bedding or wood shavings are gentle on feet and aren’t super messy, and a corner of sand is greatly appreciated! They dust bathe several times a day and it seems to be a sort of ‘bonding’ time for them both. Rinsing sand vs. unrinsed soil is MUCH better for them as well, I learned that the hard way...everything was ridiculously dusty before and now we have had 0 dust problems!

(Pardon her bald butt, Bibi is NEVER aggressive with her, but he still manages to rub off her feathers when they court and she looks pretty weird. I’m not sure how to prevent this.)

- Cover!! And LOADS of it!! Even if you think it’s enough, it isn’t. Visual barriers are so important and they THRIVE when they have decor they can hide under/behind and run between. They’re tiny birds and can dive around it like it’s nothing, and even though the enclosure looks crowded, it’s actually set up so they have Maximized floor space. GREATLY improves their confidence and sense of security. Switching up foliage/decor types seems to be beneficial, but large-scale, frequent changes probably aren’t the best. They seem to prefer when some decor is kept the same (ex. large wood features) and others are changed.

- Designing multiple “zones” seems to offer them a much greater amount of choice and has made a huge difference to their behavior. Instead of an enclosure where everything is the same, they now have a corner just for dust bathing/sleeping, a middle section with shaded water, and food in the open, and a third section with a lot of cover to the sides and an open middle area where they can be out of sight. Shown above, it looks impervious, but that’s all quail-accessible space behind that wall of decor. I plan on setting up an avian UVB light (but arcadia only makes them in T8s so I have to figure that out before I get one...) to put over their dust bathing/open area to give them further choice and basking options, as well.

(Mushy’s secret egg stash!! I didn’t even know these were here until today, they’re so well hidden!! She never broods them, but it’s interesting to see that she’s started to lay them in the same place, she never did that before the changes.)

All in all, these little changes have added up, and I’m still improving as we go along. I have additional plans for building a larger enclosure for them one day (probably 48″x24″x12-18″) so they can have a third substrate option and even more room to run and roam...it shouldn’t be too expensive and I think they’d really enjoy it.

This turned into quite the ramble, but I hope it proves to someone out there that ENRICHMENT. MATTERS. And that just because your first run of something was ‘fine’ or even ‘good’ doesn’t mean it can’t be BETTER!! Learn from your mistakes, learn what you can improve, watch your animals and see what they do and how to encourage healthy, natural behaviors. Enrichment of all types isn’t just for our enjoyment, or because it looks pretty or cute. These changes have greatly influenced my birds’ behavior and comfort, and we will continue to learn and improve as time goes on.

It’s a never-ending process, and it’s a bit of work, but seeing them healthy, calm, and content is what all pet owners should strive for.

[creampuffqueen]

Built by Love

Word Count: 2008

So, I like this one. Somone requested a fic of Simon and Hugh being the best grandparents, so here it is! It starts out funny, but it grows sappy fast, so be prepared, lol.

I hope you enjoy!

~~~~

“I’m home!” Nova’s voice echoed through the house as she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. When nobody answered her, she started getting suspicious. 

Eleven kids- and not a single peep from any of them. It was Saturday, why were they all gone? She drifted through the house confusedly, calling for her kids.

No answer. Not a giggle from a baby, or a bark from a dog, or the sound of a toy being played with. She found herself at her bedroom door, looking for her husband.

“Hello, darling.” Adrian mumbled from the bed, voice muffled as he tried to speak with a rose in his mouth. Nova burst out laughing.

“Adrian- what-” She could hardly speak through her fit of laughter. 

He pulled the rose from his mouth with a grin. “My dads have taken all the kids for the night.”

“No way.”

“Yes. All of them. And the dog.”

“I-” Nova sputtered for words. “Did you give them everything they needed?”

Adrian nodded. “Lyra’s melatonin pills, everyone’s got pajamas and their lovies, I sent them with an entire pack of pacifiers for the boys, pull-ups, diapers, everything. I’ve got it all planned out.”

“Why did you send them all away?” She asked. Not that she was objecting, of course. She sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around Adrian’s shoulders.

“Because I realized we haven’t had a real date in like… four years. Literal years. Movie nights and wine on the couch don’t count.”

“True.” Nova mused. “So, my dear husband, what else have you planned for us tonight?”

“A dinner at the fanciest restaurant we can reasonably afford has been reserved. And then if we’re up to it, a night on the town.”

“A night on the town?” She asked. “Aren’t we a bit old for that now?”

“My star, neither of us are even forty years old yet. I think a night on the town is just our style.”

“Alright.” Nova conceded. “I’ll go get dressed. Hell, I don’t think I’ve worn a dress in literal years.”

“You’ll look beautiful no matter what.” Adrian assured her. She smiled, kissed him, and went to the closet to change.

~~~~

“This is definitely the best idea you’ve had in a while.” Simon said to his husband, holding what felt like eight children at once. 

“It really is.” Hugh chuckled across the kitchen. He had two kids clinging to his back as he walked, trying to find something to feed nearly a dozen small children.

“I want pizza for dinner.” Lina complained from the kitchen island. She was sitting on top of it, legs crossed, reading a book.

“Pizza for this many people is expensive, darling.” Simon said, lowering Rose from his shoulders.

“And you two are literally the richest people in Gatlon.” Lina whined. “I want pepperoni and olives.”

“Disgusting.” Nebula snapped at her sister. “Why would you want olives on your pizza? That ruins it!”

“Yeah? Well you’re disgusting!”

Simon sighed, prying more toddlers off him, and went to break up the argument. 

“Let’s have mac n’ cheese!” Caspian demanded, shoving himself between his sisters. Zander, who had been tucked against Simon’s side, squirmed until he was let down so he could tackle Nebula’s legs.

“That, Caspian, is an incredible idea.” Hugh boomed. He ruffled the boy’s hair, then finally managed to pull Lyra and Atlas off his back.

“What if we just eat ice cream for dinner?” Atlas giggled. He raced away, Lyra on his heels. Bear, the dog, yipped loudly and dashed after them.

“Ice cream is for after dinner, you know the rules.” Simon laughed. Ryland, the youngest of the kids, was in a baby carrier on his chest. River, the other twin, clung to his shoulder, brown locks falling in her face. And Garrin was in his other arm, sucking on his thumb as he surveyed the room.

“Let’s do mac n’ cheese. Everyone likes that.” Hugh conceded. He went into the pantry, and returned with three boxes of it. Lina groaned dramatically, peeling away from the group and into the living room. Zander followed her eagerly, his shaggy blond hair curling up around his ears.

Nebula smirked at Evangeline’s book left on the counter. She held it briefly, then ran into the living room, shouting about someone dying and someone getting kissed. Simon just sighed. Nebbie had the amazing ability to read books just by touching them, which meant she liked to annoy her sister by spoiling every book she read.

Simon had to put the rest of the kids down, and while River pouted at him, Garrin just ran into the other room, following the flow of kids. Caspian was leading the charge, and Simon found all of them starting a pillow fight on the couch.

He laughed and leaned against the wall, content to just watch. Atlas helped Zander smack Nebbie with a couch pillow, Lyra and Caspian were battling furiously (though he noticed how Caspian kept his blows light so as not to knock Lyra over with her balance problems), the twins were shrieking as they tackled Lina into a pile of pillows, and even Estrella was joining in. 

“Grandpops! Look out!” Simon looked down just in time to see Garrin race up to him with a pillow almost the same size as the toddler, and shove it into his legs. Simon fake-shouted, going on about he’d been gravely injured. 

“Grandpops, come pillow fight!” River begged. Rose nodded, and both girls employed the puppy eyes. Sweet rot, they were cute.

So Simon went and put Ryland in his bouncer, chuckling at how the baby didn’t stir, even with all the noise. And then he grabbed a pillow and charged.

~~~~

Hugh found his husband twenty minutes later in a pillow fort. Complete with extra sheets, blankets, and what seemed like every pillow and cushion in the house. It encompased the entire living room, including the TV. Smart.

“Dinner!” He called. Immediately several heads poked out, grinning. Caspian was out first, Atlas and Nebula not far behind. Evangeline crawled out another exit, Zander holding onto her legs and giggling. The rest of the kids made their way out, including Lyra’s dog, Bear.

And last but not least, Simon crawled out, his hair a mess, but smiling anyway. Hugh had to stop himself from swooning over the smile lines.

“Everyone get a bowl of mac n’ cheese and three chicken nuggets!” Hugh called to the kids in the kitchen.

“You baked thirty chicken nuggets?” Lina yelped. “Was that the whole bag?”

“Don’t worry about it, just eat.” Hugh demanded. “And help the littles get a plate.”

“Granddad, Grandpops, can we watch a movie while we eat?” Caspian asked, mouth already full of food.

“Can we have soda?” Nebbie begged.

“I want milk!” Lyra whined.

“Alright, everyone one at a time.” Simon said. “What does everybody want to drink?”

Different drink orders flew around the kitchen, and Simon tried as best he could to get them all. Soda, milk, water, juice, the list was endless.

It was Hugh who finally got a piece of paper and a pencil and passed it around the table. The kids all wrote what they wanted, or in the littles’ case, got someone else to write it for them. Then Simon got them all their drinks.

“Why is it in a sippy cup?” Lina giggled, marvelling at her soft drink in a toddler cup.

“Because I don’t want anyone to spill their drink on our blanket fort when we watch a movie.” Simon said with a grin.

A cheer went up, and everyone moved to the kitchen, dinner and drink in hand. Hugh went in last, being the largest, and found the blanket fort pretty roomy inside.

Lina was using Garrin’s head as an armrest because he wouldn’t move from her lap, and Zander was lying horizontally on the twins as he put mac n’ cheese in his mouth with his hands, but otherwise everyone had a good, comfortable place to sit. Someone had had the bright idea to move the baby bouncer inside, and Ryland was awake and giggling.

It took a long time, but they eventually found a movie everyone could agree on. Not a horror movie, nothing PG-13, not a romantic movie, not a baby movie. Hugh was able to find an animated movie about animals, and that satisfied everyone enough.

“Granddad I’m done.” Lyra put her empty bowl and cup in Hugh’s lap. Bear had a distinctive yellow stain on his mouth, but he decided against asking when the dog wagged his tail. More dishes were added, so Hugh did the mature, adult thing to do, and put them all in his husband’s lap.

Simon rolled his eyes but went to put the dirty dishes in the sink. And when he returned a while later, he had a surprise: Ice cream.

This time they hadn’t had to ask everyone what they wanted. Because, if there was one thing a grandfather was required to know in Hugh’s opinion, it was the favorite ice cream flavor of each and every grandchild.

Lina, Estrella, and the twins all liked strawberry best. Caspian and Nebbie liked chocolate. And Atlas, Lyra, and the little boys all got vanilla. Of course, Zander and Garrin shared one scoop between them to prevent a multi-toddler sugar high, but what did that matter, really?

The ice cream and the movie were finished, and everyone was starting to yawn. “Go get pajamas on.” Simon mumbled. Nobody even complained.

Twenty minutes later, after everyone had pajamas on and teeth brushed, they found themselves back in the blanket fort. Simon had strung fairy lights above it, leaving a soft glow in their wake.

“Sleep here.” Garrin yawned, leaning his head on Hugh’s side. All around him, the kids were falling asleep. Even Lyra, whom Hugh had been given sleeping pills for. But she was yawning and stretching, and after she laid her head down on Bear’s side, it was evident she was fast asleep.

“Should we bring them to bed?” Simon asked sleepily. 

“No. I think they’re good here.” Hugh whispered.

And sure enough, every single child fell asleep, cuddled in a massive puppy pile. Zander was curled in Lina’s arms, Lyra and Caspian were resting against the dog, and the rest of the kids were curled around pillows and each other. The only child who was awake was Ryland, and even he was yawning.

It took Hugh’s breath away every time, just about. Looking at all these kids; his grandkids.

Lina and Nebula were the only biological children of Nova and Adrian. Evident, by their caramel skin and curly black hair. Sisters, down to their very bones.

Caspian and Lyra were the same age, adopted at different times. Caspian as a baby, abandoned on the doorstep of an orphanage. Lyra, in the system until she was three, because nobody wanted a child with special needs. Hugh’s heart hurt every time he thought of it.

Atlas and the twins, River and Rose. All of them taken in as babies. Garrin, Zander, Ryland, still practically babies.

And Estrella. She fit right in, arm draped over Atlas, the twins at her back. She had been through so much. Hugh just hoped he’d one day be worthy of being a grandfather to such an amazing little girl.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Simon murmured. “Let’s go to bed.”

Taking baby Ryland from his bouncer and resting him gently on his shoulder, Hugh and Simon Everhart crawled out of the pillow fort. They put the baby down to bed. And then they, too, found a place to sleep amongst the pile of kids in a blanket fort.

“Look at this.” Simon breathed, turning off the lights. He was so close Hugh could feel his breath on his lips.

“Love built this. Love built our family.”

“Love.” 

Love for every single one of the kids sleeping peacefully next to them. Love despite the fact they didn’t look related. Despite the fact they weren’t related. 

Yes, love certainly built this.

~~~~

Fic Requests

Gen 2 asks/headcanons

So, I hope you guys liked this! It got real sappy lol.

[asarahworld-writes]

a place we could escape sometime

Fritz, Chaz, and Zephyr all belong to @unusual-ly.  Thanks for filling up our sandboxes with fleshed out background characters.  Hopefully I’ve done them justice.

The football team had, now unsurprisingly, won the game.  Coach had given them their choice of ordering pizzas in to their hotel rooms or taking the bus to a mid-scale diner across town.  Surprisingly, the vote had split perfectly fifty-fifty.  Even more surprisingly, the same vote had split the same way with the cheerleaders on the floor above.  The coaches then allowed the teams to mingle, each supervising roughly one team.  The cheerleaders’ coach stayed in (Zed suspected that they were used to having little to no real interactions with the squad, with the cheer captains running everything from tryouts to the championship routine) and Coach took everyone else out to the diner.

“Okay, if everyone who wants to come out isn’t ready by seven-thirty, then I’m sorry but you’re stuck with pizza.  There’ll be no latecomers – we gotta stick together.  This is a school event and we’re responsible for you kids,” Coach said.  “Now, you all need to hit the showers, okay?  I’m adding that to my list of rules for dinner.  Shower and be ready by seven-thirty.  That’s all I’m asking of you guys.  Can you do that for me?”

Zed’s roommates for the trip were Chaz, Fritz, and Zephyr.  Although they had tried to pass it off as a coincidence, everybody knew that they had been grouped together because they were the zombie students on the team.  Chaz, the youngest of the group, had pounced on getting ready for dinner as soon as they had entered their room.  The other three were too tired to be bothered, at least until Zephyr remembered that they were on a time limit and three people still needed to shower.  When Chaz emerged from the bathroom, Zed and Fritz were in and out as quickly as they could.

“Come on, Zeph.  We’re hitting the town, let’s go.”  Zed shrugged a jacket over his maroon hoodie, knowing that Addison would steal at least one or the other before the night was over.

“You guys go.  I’ll grab some pizza from Coach’s room,” Zephyr deflected, looking at the phone meaningfully.

“What?  No way, come on you guys aren’t going to leave me alone all night, are you?”  Chaz looked around the room.  “Zed’s going to meet up with his girlfriend, Zephyr obviously wants the room to call his boyfriend, and Fritz…”  Chaz perked up.  “Hey, man, we could hang out.”

Zed opened the motel room door, stepping out into the crisp, cool evening air.  He quickly crossed over to the room Addison was staying in and knocked.

“Hey, Zed,” Bree opened the door, smiling.  “I think Addy’s just looking for her jacket.”

Zed grinned.  “Hey.  Awesome cheers tonight,” he winked.

“Yeah, they were pretty good.  It’s definitely because of us that the team won,” Bree joked, her smile fading when Zed didn’t laugh.  She turned to see that Addison had entered the main area/bedroom.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, slightly breathless.  Addison ducked her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.  She was so beautiful, wearing a pale blue jumpsuit, damp hair tied back in a messy ponytail.  He couldn’t help but notice that the sweater was fairly thin and smirked, knowing that she would end up stealing his jacket at some point during the night.  “How about we skip out of here,” he whispered.

“Don’t you mean _delicious_?”  Addison held out her hand and Zed took it, firmly clasping them together.

“There’s a diner across the street.  Everyone’s either in the motel rooms or at the restaurant.  What do you say we have a little date night?”

“I mean, we _could_ get into so much trouble.”  Addison grinned.  “Let’s go.”

If Zed had had a fully functional human heart, it would have been thudding loudly in his chest.  Sure, they still had to sneak out, but they were finally going on a proper date, somewhere where most people didn’t really know about zombies, where they would just be a couple of kids.  As he held the door open for Addison, nobody really paid them any attention.  There was no sharp spike from his Z-band as he entered the diner.

The little diner was mostly empty, aside from a man passed out in a corner booth.  They chose a side both on the other side of the diner, Addison not releasing her hold on Zed as a waitress brought over some water and their menus.

“How are you guys doing tonight?”  She placed the menus on the table, and continued: “house special is the classic burger n shake with Joey sauce.  Crisp lettuce, red onions, and our secret Joey sauce.  I’ll be back in a few minutes, holler if you need anything.”  She left them to look at their menus, walking back into the kitchen.

Bells chimed as the front door opened again a few minutes later.  The waitress was back; smiling, she seated the new arrivals, then stopped at the table.  “How are you guys doing?”

“Good, thanks,” Zed smiled, looking over to his girlfriend.

“You kids see the football game this afternoon?  That sure was something else all right, don’t think anyone’s seen Seabrook play like _that_ for, I don’t know, twenty years?  Heard they’ve got one of them mutants on the team now.  Heck, nobody around here even knew there _were_ mutants in Seabrook, can you believe it?  Just twenty miles down the coast, a whole other community of mutants from back when the power plant went down.”

Zed’s stomach twisted.

“Now what can I get you kids tonight?”

Addison picked up her menu, scanning it.  “Could I get the chicken salad...with garlic bread...and extra Parmesan?”

“And you?”

Zed pushed the knot in his stomach down and swallowed.  “Yeah, uh, could I get the special?  Uh, blue rare and could I get it with cheese?”

The waitress was staring at him, so he flashed her a smile.  That was when he realized that Addison was also staring at him.

“Sir,” the waitress began uncertainly.

“Oh!  And we just won the football game tonight, so if you could add a couple of double vanilla shakes to that, that would be amazing.”

The waitress nodded.  “Double vanilla shakes.”  She left with their order, and Zed turned back to the table.

“If they make money from people eating here, then why do they serve you a tiny loaf of bread before your dinner?”  He sawed off another slice from the small bread, buttering it carefully before swallowing, nearly without chewing.  He could feel Addison still staring.  “What?  Is it meant to just be decoration?”

Addison laughed at that.  “What?  No, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what was it?  That waitress was giving me vibes, but like, I don’t know.”

“You ordered a _burger_,” Addison whispered in a hush.

Zed stared at her blankly.  “...yep.”

“_Blue rare_.”

“...yes?”

“Zed.  Humans can’t eat beef that under-cooked.  That’s why she was staring at you.  We’re not in Seabrook, she doesn’t recognize you as a zombie.  You’re just the weirdo who brought his girlfriend on a date to get food poisoning.”

“Can’t take me anywhere nice, can you?”  Zed chuckled, grinning.  “Think the chef will do it?”  His question, though rhetorical, was answered by the momentary return of their waitress.

“Sir, unfortunately we will not be able to fill your order.  When ground, beef must be fully cooked in order to avoid bacterial poisoning.”  The waitress looked at Zed, clearly expecting him to order something else.  When he said nothing, she continued: “we have a selection of meats that can be prepared rare for your enjoyment – steak, lamb, and beef are our most commonly rare dishes.”

While Zed understood that there was a liability issue that could result if the restaurant served under-cooked meat, he was also starting to crave the specificity of a minimally-cooked burger.

He decided to take a chance.

“I’m a zombie.  One of the ‘mutants’ from Seabrook.  Believe me when I say that this is definitely the way I prefer my burgers.”  His wallet sincerely hoped that the establishment would listen to him and allow him to order the more inexpensive menu item.

The waitress stared at him.  “I’ll get the manager for you, sir.”  She left quite quickly.

The evening wasn’t going at all how Zed had hoped.  In Seabrook, he was sometimes treated differently because he was a zombie, but things usually worked out.  Integration was slowly becoming more commonplace, but outside of the community were issues that nobody had thought of before.  Such as what would happen when a zombie tried ordering food that matched their zombie-fied preferences.

The manager would not allow him to order a rare burger.  Zed understood, of course, and had resigned himself to ordering the burger to be cooked as little as the chef deemed safe when Addison stopped him.

“I know that the date was your idea and that you were going to cover it,” she started.  Zed smiled sadly, knowing the gist of what she was going to say.

“Addy, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.  You have special dietary needs and if a restaurant can accommodate a person with food allergies, I don’t see why this should be any different.  But my dad gave me fifty dollars ‘in case of an emergency’, like that would ever happen, and I think this qualifies.”  She turned to address the manager.  “My boyfriend will be having a steak as rare as you can make it.  As will I.”

“Addison, you don’t even like steak,” Zed interrupted.  “You wanted the salad.  At least have the steak cooked.”  Addison looked back at Zed and he could see her relenting.  “Come on, the salad has fresh strawberries, you love those.  And I’m certain it was you who was disappointed with the garlic bread last week when the cafeteria served spaghetti.”

The waitress looked at them, clearly waiting to see if the couple had finished deciding.  “Do you need a few more minutes?”

“No,” Addison shook her head as she turned back to the waitress.  “One steak and one salad.  A side of yam fries with the steak, and garlic bread with the salad.  And two double vanilla shakes for dessert,” Addison ordered confidently.

“That should take about ten minutes.”  The waitress finished jotting down the order and went to help another table.

“Addison,” but this it was Zed who was interrupted.

“Zed, it’s fine.  Dinner’s on me.  Well, technically it’s on my dad.  But, hey, we’re out on a date.  Let’s not waste it by arguing over something so trivial as who’s going to pay.”

Zed smiled, easily leaning across the table and kissing his girlfriend.  “I can think of much better ways to pass the time,” he agreed, mumbling against her lips.  He felt her smile, felt air hit his nose as she exhaled, felt her hand reach for his, fingers fumbling as they interlocked.  _“Gar gar ga za,_” he whispered, pulling back slightly before re-initiating the kiss.  Ten minutes had passed before they knew it and their waitress was back, clearing her throat as she placed their plates on the table.

“Enjoy your meal,” she said casually, giving them a look as she left.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“Addison, it’s fine.  That’s what people say when you’re in a restaurant.  Or so I’ve heard.”  Zed picked up his fork and speared one of Addison’s strawberries.  “Now let’s have dinner, neither of us have eaten since before the game.  Eat your salad before I steal all your strawberries,” he grinned, taking a bite from the one on his fork.  Addison’s eyes narrowed playfully and accepted the proffered remainder of the stolen strawberry from her boyfriend.

[collapsingintojupiter]

6 and 17 from the prompt list? With logince? I really loved your analogical dads and baby Patton 💙

“I need a place to stay.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Oooh this is gonna be fun.

Characters: Logan and Roman

Relationships: Some Logince for you shippers out there.

Warnings: None, I don't think? Let me know if I should add any though.

***

It was, as they say, a dark and stormy night. More stormy than anything else though; thunder rattled and cracked in the sky, shaking the apartment's thin walls as Logan attempted to make himself some soup for dinner.

Okay, so maybe soup was a bit of a generous name to give it. 

Logan stirred his chicken Ramen over the stove, dutifully following the instructions on the package while lightning split the dark sky in half over and over and over again outside the window. In the living room, the TV murmured beneath the clattering of rain on the roof, which had risen to a deafening roar since the storm had first made itself known with cold drops and sharp wind. 

Logan flinched as the gale outside flung a loose branch against the kitchen window with a sharp crack--at least the glass didn't break, any harder and it might've done just that. 

He finished making his Ramen and poured it into a mug, sniffing at it appreciatively as he padded into the living room to eat. His tabby cat, Newton, meowed at him from beneath the couch. She hated storms, and honestly Logan couldn't blame her. She's going to need more food, he reminded himself. The bag's almost empty. I can try to get into town sometime--

A sharp rap at the door forced Logan to pause his thoughts, turning in surprise towards the entrance to his apartment. He wasn't expecting visitors--he almost never was, not only that but he lived in a somewhat shady part of town and it was common for drunks to wander around after dark.

None of them had knocked on his door, though.

Logan waited, and whoever it was knocked again--it sounded almost desperate that time. Clearly the person had no intention of leaving anytime soon, whoever they were. Logan sighed, heading over to the door and cracking it open. 

A tall man in a red and white jacket looked back at him, drenched from head to toe and shivering violently. His form was immediately blurred by the rain that splattered against Logan's glasses.

"Uh, hi--" he sneezed. "Sorry...I uh…I really need a place to stay. Just…" he looked up. "Just until the storm passes. Please… I've tried everyone else on the street, and I--"

"Come in."

The man looked surprised--no, shocked. "Really? I--I can stay?"

"I believe I just said that you could." Logan's voice was concerned, not irritated. This guy was clearly sick on top of whatever had forced him into the storm unprepared.

"Thank you so much, Mr…"

"Call me Logan." He gestured for the other man to step inside, pulling the door firmly shut behind them. 

"Thank you, Logan. My name's Roman, nice to meet you despite the ah, unfortunate circumstances.

Logan nodded. He looked down at his Ramen, then suddenly thrust it into Roman's hands.

"I have plenty extra," he said when he saw the look on the man's face. "Living room is in there, go sit down."

"Logan, please, I can't take this--"

"Good thing I didn't ask for your opinion." Logan said firmly. He pointed at the couch. "Sit."

Roman sat. He looked like he was going to try and argue again, but then he looked down at the Ramen in his hands and the last bit of his resolve faded as he dug in.

"Thank you."

Logan nodded, turning and padding down the hallway to his room. He returned to the living room a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes in his arms, which he set down on the coffee table. Roman looked at the bundle, then up at Logan.

"You're sick," Logan said before he could say anything. "That won't be helped by you sitting around in those wet clothes." He pointed at the hallway he'd just come from. "Bathroom is down there on the left. Change when you're done eating."

"Not that sick," Roman muttered. "You don't have to--" a sudden bout of coughing cut him off, and once he could breathe again Logan was glaring at him with his hands on his hips. He shut his mouth and did as he was told, finishing his Ramen before grabbing the bundle and disappearing down the hall. Logan sighed, then went back into the kitchen to make himself some more Ramen.

Roman came back right as the water started to boil, dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a plain red shirt. He'd toweled off, and now his damp hair hung around his dark eyes, framing his tanned face. A blanket was draped over his shoulders, swirling behind him like a cape as he came into the room.

Despite the entrance, however, Roman looked anything but princely. If anything, he looked all the more forlorn; all the more tired. His walk was more of a stagger, and his breath rattled in his throat as he passed Logan and collapsed weakly onto the couch.

"I'll bring you something to take so that you sleep better tonight." Logan searched through the cupboards, pulling out two green pills and a glass which he filled with water. 

"Thank you," Roman rasped as he handed it to him. Logan nodded and went to retrieve his Ramen. Though he hated to, it would be best if he went to his room early and ate in there so that his guest could sleep.

"I'll leave you alone now," he told Roman, turning to leave.

"No wait!" Roman coughed again, his body shaking under the blanket. "Stay…please? I...I don't much like the dark." 

Logan narrowed his eyes. Had Roman looked so pathetic a few moments ago? He's not…he sighed; defeated. 

"Very well." Logan took his Ramen into the living room and seated himself next to Roman, nibbling at the noodles and glaring at them when his glasses fogged from the steam. Eventually, he heard Roman's voice as he wiped his glasses off for the third time.

"I like your cat." Logan put his glasses back on and looked up to see that Newton had made her way into Roman's lap. The other man was currently stroking her fur, and before long a soft purr rumbled in her throat. She likes him. Newton has good taste, Roman can't be all that bad if she likes him.

"That's Newton," he stated, gesturing to the cat. "I'm surprised she decided to come out from under the couch while the storm was still going."

"You named your cat Newton?" Roman chuckled and then coughed. "That's a new one."

Logan didn't know how to answer that, so he didn't, allowing silence to fall over the room again. Roman was quiet for a while, contenting himself to giving Newton attention, but before long he was talking again.

"Got any stories to tell, Logan?" 

"Stories?" Logan looked up, surprised.

"Yeah. Where are you from? Got any family? A dramatic life story?" He tried to laugh, but all that resulted from it was another bout of coughing.

"There's hardly anything dramatic about my life story," Logan answered dryly. "Strict parents. Youngest of four siblings. Got kicked out when I was sixteen."

"I'd call that dramatic." Roman smiled; he didn't try to laugh this time. He yawned. "I'm from up North; came down to check on my sister. Family business, I guess you could say. We got in a fight and she kicked me out of her house." 

"She kicked you out when you were sick!?" Logan's exclamation brought out a surprised look from Roman.

"Yeah. She was pretty mad." He grinned. "I'm a pain in the ass. Ask anybody I know." 

"Doesn't give anyone an excuse to…" Logan cut himself off, grumbling, and suddenly stood up with a huff. "Are--are you sufficiently tired for me to leave, Roman?"

The man grinned at him. How dare he be so cute. "Yeah, I think so. Night Logan."

Roman stayed for three days, letting Logan take care of him and occasionally snatching a conversation when he could from the otherwise quiet man. Logan didn't understand why, but he found himself looking forward to getting to talk to the odd and rather dramatic character that had stumbled through his door; he was fun to talk to, interesting. He hadn't really realized how lonely he was until Roman came, and Logan enjoyed his company more than he would've liked to admit.

On the fourth day, Roman was gone. There were no goodbyes or anything like that; he just disappeared. Logan woke up to find his clothes folded and stacked in the hallway near his door, the kitchen swept clean and the previous night's dishes washed, the living room straightened up, and most importantly--there wasn't a sign of the princely character anywhere. When Logan went into the kitchen he found a note taped to the refrigerator.

Dear Logan, it said.

I'm sorry about the hasty exit, but I guess life calls at inopportune times and I didn't want to wake you. Thank you for the hospitality you have extended to me these past few days, and the kindness you've shown to me. I appreciate everything you've done immensely, and I hope to pay you back for it one day. In case you're wondering I'll be back eventually, don't worry. I look forward to seeing you again, maybe we can get coffee the next time I'm in town?

In case you want to talk to me before then, here's my number.

Logan couldn't help the slight blush that tinted his cheeks by the time he'd finished reading the letter, and the little smile that crossed his face as he folded the paper and set it down.

Then he went back to his life.

Except, this time, one might have noticed a little more energy in Logan than before; a few more smiles; a different kind of optimism for life that wasn't there before. And while those he knew might speculate on what had changed for him; why he was different, Logan of course knew the real reason.

After all, his prince was coming back. When, Logan couldn't say for sure. He had the feeling that Roman was something of a spontaneous character. 

But he'd be back.

___

There ya go, hope you enjoyed!

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[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Things Half in Shadows (14/14)

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairings: Gold/Belle (eventually) with side pairings that probably include Graham/Bay, Archie/Emma and others.

Summary: The first thing you learn, back in Psych 101, is that you never get emotionally involved with a patient.  For 25 years Dr. Gold hasn’t had a problem walking that fine line.  Something changes, though, when he meets Belle French. AU

Author’s Note: I can’t begin to express what this fic and the people who read it have meant to me.  Thank you all.  This is the last chapter.  I chose to leave it here and pick it up again in a sequel.  The second half is relationship-centric and will begin with Belle leaving Storybrooke.

TRIGGER WARNING: Indirect mentions of abuse and sexual assault

<Prologue><Chapter 1><Chapter 2> <Chapter 3> <Chapter 4> <Chapter 5> <Chapter 6> <Chapter 7> <Chapter 8> <Chapter 9> <Chapter 10> <Chapter 11> <Chalpter 12> <Chapter 13>

Chapter 14 - Small Steps

II

There was a book on the table next to her customary cup of tea.  The cover was free of words, only a pattern of roses that looked like an old bit of wallpaper.

“A journal?” she guessed.  She’d never kept a diary before and felt a flutter in her stomach when she remembered the last time her doctor had asked her to write anything.  Eight words and everything had changed.  For the better, maybe, someday, but nothing had ever hurt so much.  She hadn’t had the numbness to shield her.  She would try, though, if he asked.

“While that’s never a bad idea that’s not my intent today.  It is for writing but I don’t want you to write about yourself.”  

“Who should I be writing about?”  She knew he wouldn’t ask her to write about her father.

“You read a lot of stories, Belle.  It’s a comfort to step into the world someone else created, to attend a ball with Elizabeth Darcy or to push the Dread Pirate Roberts down a hill.  I want to see you try writing a story with your own words.  It can be as simple or as complex as you like.”  From his pocket he took a pen, resting it on top of the book.

“That’s it?  Just write something?”  She hadn’t written anything since a creative writing class she took her first semester in college.  She couldn’t remember if she’d liked it or not.

“Anything you want.  When you’re done you can show it to anyone you want or you can keep it to yourself.  You can show it to me, but only if that’s what you want.”  He took a sip of his tea.  Belle remembered her own cup and took a sip, and a bite of the coffee cake he’d brought in that morning.  She liked the blueberries.  “What’s the first story you remember as a child?”

“Cinderella.”  She was distracted by the book, picking it up and running her fingers over the lightly textured cover before opening it up.  The pages were blank.  So much empty space; it seemed lonely without words.  “Not the Disney one; it was a pop-up book.  There was this page with all the stairs and in the middle the glass slipper.  I remember running my fingers up and down the stairs, pretending I’d lost my shoe.  One page had the carriage and you could open the door and look inside.  I wanted to shrink so I could fit inside, just for a little while.  It was such a pretty little carriage.”

“Perhaps you can tell the story of a little girl who did manage to shrink,” he suggested.  “When my son was wee there was a story he loved about a family that lived in the walls of a house.”

“I loved Thumbelina.  My mama would watch the movie with me; it was the first VHS I remember owning.  We liked to sing the songs together.”  They would cuddle under a blanket and share a bowl of popcorn that they’d made together on the stove.  Her mama loved to sing.  She’d almost forgotten how she’d sung when she was washing the dishes, or combing her hair, and always at bedtime.  “I don’t remember anything about the movie except that she was little and there was singing.”

“I’m sure we could find a copy, sometime.”  He scribbled a note on a piece of paper.  It was strange, most psychiatrists she had seen wrote a lot.  Some seemed to barely look at her, they were so busy writing about what she said.  Her doctor rarely wrote more than a few sentences and she always got the feeling that it was making sure he remembered things rather than analyzing her.   “It sounds like a memory worth holding onto.”

“I think it is.”  It hurt to think about her mama; maybe it always would.  But it made her feel warm, too, to remember the way they had sung together.  Maybe getting better meant that the warm was just as strong as the hurt.  She took another bite of her coffee cake and waited for questions about her mama that didn’t come.  Her doctor turned back to the subject of stories for the rest of her session.

II

Belle’s entrance to the art room was blocked by the sprawled form of Jefferson on the floor, arms and legs both spread eagle.  She held her new book to her chest and looked down at him, wondering if she needed to go back and get help.  His eyes were open, though, and she couldn’t see anything that looked like danger.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being a drama queen.”  August leaned against the back of a chair nearby.  “Even more so than usual.”

“I’m bor-ed.  Bored.  B-b-b-bored.”

“I’m starting to get the idea that Jefferson’s bored.  Anyone else getting that feeling?”  Ruby was using the art scissors to trim bits of her hair.

“Does this place have a yelp?  I’m giving them one star.  Can I do no stars?  I’m going to do that.  The food is pedestrian, the entertainment is abysmal, and I’m sure there’s beds of nails that are more comfortable than what passes for accommodation here.”

“Fortunately there’s always the chance that a patient will provide entertainment,” Ruby said pointedly.

“You call this entertaining?”  August rolled his eyes.

“Do you think they might let us have a picnic?”  Belle offered tentatively.  They’d had sunny afternoons the last couple of days.

“A party.”  Jefferson sat up.  “Rabbit, you’re brilliant.”

“Christmas is over.”  From the corner of the room a small sad voice piped up.  Astrid was working on something involving glue and a lot of glitter.  

“Anyone have a birthday coming up?”  Jefferson asked hopefully.

“Mine was last month.”  Mary Margaret was the first to pop Jefferson’s bubble.  Belle just shook her head. No one had mentioned holidays or birthdays since she’d arrived, almost as if time was standing still.  Maybe that’s what they all hoped, that time was still and they would be able to just slip into their lives when they returned home.  If they returned.

“This is perfect.  Bake the cake and hire the clowns, we’re having a birthday party.”  Jefferson shot up so fast it was hard to tell how he’d gotten to his feet.  

“No on has a birthday until June, sweetie,” Ruby reminded him.

“Please tell me you’re not serious about clowns.”  August crossed his arms.  “That’s not funny.”

“If it’s no one’s birthday then it’s everyone’s unbirthday.  What’s better than an unbirthday party?”  He raced around the room, pulling fake flowers and ribbons from bins, stopping behind Astrid’s chair to lean down low.  “More glitter, little mouse.  We need more sparkle.”

“This is going to be interesting.”  Ella picked up the flower that had landed in her lap.

“That’s one word for it,” August commented, pointedly ignoring the ribbons that had landed on his shoulder.  “Not the word I’d pick, though.”

II

“Have you ever read any fairy tales?”  Belle threw a pea into the lake, a little farther from the shore this time.  The ducklings were getting bigger now, and Graham said that they needed to work a little for their food.

“Maybe when I was a kid.  I don’t remember, really.”  They reached for a pea at the same time, their fingers touching.  Belle hardly thought about it, or the fact that only a few weeks ago it would have startled her.

“I was rereading some yesterday.”  She had hoped they would inspire her own idea for a story.  “They’re very black and white.  Stepmothers are always evil.  The princess is always good and pure. Fairy godmothers will always help.  Wolves can’t be trusted.”

“A lot of people don’t understand about wolves.  They’re nobel.”  Graham tossed another pea into the water, a little farther from the ducks.  One of the ducklings dove to get it and came up, shaking out its feathers.  

“Maybe it’s easier to pretend that the scary things are so simple.  As easy to see as a wolf in pajamas.”  Fairytales never taught you to be scared of the people that said they loved you; at least none that she’d found.

“Wolf wouldn’t be happy wearing anyone’s pajamas, but he does like sleeping bags.  I had to buy one for him or I’d never get any sleep when we go out.  He gets in and curls up until all you can see is his nose.  He has to carry it, though, if he wants it.”  The last of the peas were gone.  Graham opened the other bag he’d brought and set out two white chocolate cranberry cookies.

“He carries his sleeping bag?”  Graham had mentioned camping, once.  Belle had never had a pet, but didn’t imagine that was something they usually did.  

“It clips onto his harness. He’s always excited when I put it on because he knows we’ll sleep outdoors.  Besides, I carry food for both of us, it’s only fair he carries his own bedding.”  Graham took a bite of one of the cookies and pushed the other one a little closer to her.  “Somehow I ended up with an extra if you want one.”

“Thank you.”  Nurse Whale had mentioned she was up seven pounds and had been pleased when he added the note to her file.  Someday maybe she could meet her doctor’s son and thank him for all the muffins and cookies.  “Does Wolf have to carry his own tent too?”

“We don’t use a tent.  Just a sleeping bag apiece and a campfire.  Can’t see the stars in a tent, and they tell a different story every night.”  it was midday but still Graham looked up at the sky as if he could see the stars.

“What happens if it rains?”  

“We get wet.”  Graham shrugged.  “If it’s a heavy storm we find a shelter.  But look at the ducklings, they love to get wet.  A lot of animals do.  There’s nothing harmful in a little rain, and afterwards everything smells new.’

“I’ve never been camping.”  She and her mama used to make tents out of sheets and imagine they were camping.  They made s’mores in the oven and ate them sitting around a flashlight.  She’d mentioned camping to her papa once and he’d taken her to a resort that summer in upstate New York.  They’d served a chocolate mousse topped with meringue and graham cracker and called it a s’more.  Her papa had called her princess and gifted her with her first bikini.  She’d ‘lost’ it after the second day, and was glad they never went back.  

“There’s berries and mushrooms growing on the other side of the lake, at the edge of the woods.  It’s not camping but we could go for a walk,” he suggested, finishing his cookie.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”  She’d never walked past the edge of the lake.

“As long as you stay with me.”

II

By the time they returned from their walk Belle had almost forgotten about fairytales.  Graham had shown her the signs of edible mushrooms, but cautioned her not to eat any without him there.  He’d pointed out a nest in a branch that still held eggs.  There was a bush full of berries that might make a good cookie.  Her questions had been tentative at first but he’d answered them all, speaking more than he usually did.  She was eager to learn more and he walked with her to the library to point out a few books they had about local flora and fauna.  Caught up in the books she almost didn’t notice someone joining them in the library.

“Belle.”  Gaston had his hands in his pockets, his height seeming so much taller than she remembered.  “Can we talk?”

“Visitor’s hours are Saturday.  This isn’t a good time.”  Graham took two steps to his right, coming between her and the doorway.

“You’re not Belle, so I wasn’t talking to you.  I was talking to my fiance.”  Gaston was less forceful than usual, but she knew that he wouldn’t leave.  

“It’s okay, Graham.”  She didn’t know what he wanted, but it was usually quicker to give it to him than argue.  Logic wasn’t Gaston’s strongest suit.  “He’s driven a long way to be here.  We can talk.”

“You heard her.  I’m sure there’s someone else in this place that needs your attention.”  Gaston sat on one of the sofas, his feet on the table.  Belle was reminded of his home office, though the Storybrooke library didn’t have any animal heads mounted on the walls.

“Right now my job is to be here.”  Graham crossed his arms.  Gaston’s cheek muscle twitched.

“Can we have a few minutes, Graham?  You could wait right outside the door.”  She could call for him if she needed him.  She wondered if she actually would.

“A few minutes and the door stays open,” Graham agreed reluctantly.  Once he was out of the room Belle dug her nails into the arm of the couch.  She tried to remember what it was like to sit at dinner with him and make small talk.  

“You look good, Gaston.”  He had a tan that she knew came from a tanning bed this time of year and a body sculpted with the help of a personal trainer named Lefou.

“You look… fine.”  His eyes swept over her, and she knew he was seeing the hair pulled back in a ponytail and the bulky sweater that was warm but unfashionable.  She hadn’t put on any makeup since she’d arrived, except the nail polish Ruby had used a few days ago to make her nails a pale pink.  “Are you… fine?”

“I’m learning a lot about myself.”  Fine was right up there with okay on the list of words she didn’t know how to define.  There were a lot of things people said to each other that didn’t mean anything, polite lies that meant not talking about anything real..

“Moe said you would be coming home soon.”  Belle flinched, but she was certain Gaston didn’t notice.  

“I’m not ready for that.”  Belle shook her head.  She wouldn’t ever return to the place that Gaston called home.  For weeks she had asked Doctor every day about the restraining order, needing the reminder that it was real.  She had spoken to the sheriff once, as well.  It had been almost a month now, and no lawyers had shown up.  No threats had been made.  She was beginning to believe she was safe for him, at least within the small world of Storybrooke.  What happened when she left she didn’t know; she didn’t have a home anymore.

“I don’t understand why you’re here.  You’re not like them.”  He gestured towards the doorway, where the sounds of art therapy could be heard.  “You’d do better being around your own people.”

“These are my people.”  They were all trying to heal from things.  She wondered if Gaston would even be able to understand what it was to need to heal.  He spoke of little other than hunting and business, boating and stocks.  If she was honest with herself there was very little she knew about the man she’d said yes to marrying.  He knew even less about her.

“Your people are at home; there’s a dinner at the club this weekend.  People keep asking me when you’re coming home, not that they know where you are.”  Too restless for the couch Gaston rose and started pacing.  “They ask me about the wedding.”

“I can’t marry you, Gaston.”  She said the words in a hurry, afraid she wouldn’t say them all if she didn’t say them all at once.

“You don’t mean that.  When you get home…”

“No.”  She shook her head.  When her father had brought Gaston home she had accepted it, as she did everything else.  She hadn’t gone away to college because he didn’t want it.  She hadn’t babysat as a teen.  Hadn’t gone to school dances.  She was always a dutiful daughter, even when it came to dating the man that was picked out for her.  And saying yes when expected, whether it was diner, sex or an engagement ring.  If she stayed with Gaston she was still her father’s prisoner.  It didn’t matter that Gaston was unaware of who Moe French really was or what he had done.  “I’m sorry Gaston.”

“I don’t understand, we had plans.  You said yes.”  Any plans they had, Belle knew, had been his own.  A wife to take care of his house and play hostess for his parties.  The right type of woman to show off at the club.  Children, probably, but she couldn’t even think about that.  For a moment she imagined a daughter, soft brown curls and her mother’s eyes.  She thought of her father, and wondered if she would have more power to protect a daughter than she’d had to save herself.

“Belle.” He said her name sharply, and probably not for the first time.  It was enough to bring Graham into the room.  She thought of the stories he’d told her about Wolf, and wondered if that was why she was reminded so strongly of a predator.  The narrow eyes and tense muscles might have scared her from another man, but she trusted him.  He was there to protect her.

“I’m alright now.”  She spoke to Gaston but looked over his shoulder to Graham.  She could make it through this conversation but she wasn’t going to ask him to leave again.

“This place is making you worse, not better,” Gaston groused.

“I’m not someone you would want to marry.”  There wasn’t any point explaining to him anymore than that.  “The ring is in my jewelry box at home.  You should have it back.”

“You shouldn’t make decisions in a place like this.  When you change your mind…”

“I wish you the best, Gaston, I really do.  I need you to go now.”  Graham took a step closer.  Perhaps Gaston felt it, or perhaps he decided his ego was smarting from the rejection.

“If I take back the ring that’s it.”  When she didn’t say anything he got up and strode from the library.  She hesitated for a moment before running after him.

“Gaston, wait.”  She could feel Graham standing behind her, not trying to touch her but his presence unmistakable.

“I knew it.”  His smile was the cocky one she was most familiar with.  Belle took a breath, closing her eyes.  She could be brave.  She could speak up.

“You move in the same circles as my father.  Parties, the club, charity events.  You should know…”  She felt her nails against the underside of her forearm and paused, pulling them away.  She would not hurt herself.  “He can’t be left alone with little girls.  They need to be protected.

“You can’t mean…”  She’d never before seen all the color drain from Gaston’s face.  The horrified look in his eyes was probably the most real emotion she’d ever seen from him.  She nodded and waited to see that he understood what she meant, then turned her back to him.  She couldn’t allow him to ask questions, couldn’t speak any clearer than she already had.  It had taken all of her bravery to say that much.

Doctor Gold was standing on the other side of the doorway.  “Graham thought you might like a cup of tea.  I thought we could take some out to the garden.”  

“I would like that.”  She was surprised to see that her hand wasn’t trembling.  The hot tea would be welcome. Before she followed him she looked over her shoulder on last time.  “Goodbye, Gaston.”

She stood completely still until she could feel him leaving.  Graham was gone too, and she knew without having to ask that he was following Gaston.  Making sure he didn’t linger, didn’t ask anything more of her.  After almost two years and an engagement it was strange to think that she’d most likely seen him for the last time.  It was probably stranger to think she had agreed to marry him but wouldn’t miss him.

“He’s gone, dearie.  Would you like to sit down?”

“In the garden.”  She looked down at her feet and willed them to move.  After a moment they did, and if she thought about nothing else but walking she could get herself to the bench outside before her knees let her down.  He handed her a mug of tea poured from his thermos as soon as she sat.  It seemed cooler outside than it had half an hour ago when she’d been walking with Graham.

“He shouldn’t have gotten as far as the library without anyone stopping him, Belle.  I’m sorry.”  He waited a moment to speak, or maybe it was five minutes.  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at her tea before looking at him.

“He wasn’t a threat.  He never hurt me.”  She wasn’t sure she could say that Gaston was a good man.  He worked and he hunted and he went to the club.  He hated books and was sometimes frustrated when he saw her reading rather than socializing, but he was never cruel.  He didn’t go out of his way to help anyone but neither did he hurt anyone.  “I didn’t even know I didn’t want to be with him.  It was easier to just say yes.”

“It was what other people wanted from you,” he commented softly.

“I said no to him today.”  Had she ever said that before?  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said no, not to something as simple as where they were going for dinner or as complicated as an engagement ring.  Not to trips with her papa or his college plans or anything.  “Even when it made him mad.”

“The only emotions you are responsible for are your own.”  His tea was on the bench, his hands both on the handle of his cane.  He moved it restlessly, the tip moving bits of gravel around the ground.  He always moved, even when he was sitting still.  “What you did today took a good deal of courage.

“I was scared.  Not of him.”  He made her feel small next to him, his confidence and control making her feel like everything centered around him, but she hadn’t feared him.  Or loved him.  She’d simply existed next to him.  “Everything’s changed now.”

“The unknown can be very hard to step into, even when the known is hurting us.  It’s normal to be scared.”  His voice was low and soothing.  Belle allowed herself to close her eyes and just listen to him.  His words settled into her bones with the same warmth as the tea.  

“So now I start over?”  With Gaston gone she had no connection to the people she’d called friends, who were really just social acquaintances.  With the restraining order against her father she was an orphan in all the ways that mattered.  

“As much as we might sometimes wish for a blank slate there is no such thing.  No tabula rasa.”  He quirked his lips into something that wasn’t quite a smile, or at least not a happy one.  “We continue on a step at a time because the only thing we can do is move forward or stand still.  What we do get to decide is what we carry with us and what we work on shedding.”

Belle looked down at her hands, seeing only the cooling mug of tea but knowing she held onto so much more.  “I left Gaston behind.”

“You did.  Are you feeling alright about that?”  He picked up his mug, but only played with the handle.

Belle nodded.  The conversation had been hard but knowing it was over was easy.  “It’s not so simple with papa.”

“No, it’s not.  But you’ve already taken the first steps.”  He paused, looking at her.  Belle took a shaky breath and nodded.  It helped that he didn’t lie to her.  Didn’t pretend that anything was going to be easy.  If she’d taken the first steps there were still dozens more to take.

“One step at a time.”  She rubbed her arm.  There was no pain, and she’d stopped herself from digging her nails into the skin when she’d spoken to Gaston.  That was a step too.

II

Belle deliberately chose the same sofa in the library she’d shared with Gaston the next day, an exorcism of sorts.  She curled up with her notebook and pen, took a deep breath, and started writing.  An hour later she had twelve pages of writing and a sore hand.  The wolf was about to rescue Little Red from her grandmother when Jefferson threw himself at the other side of the sofa, making the whole thing bounce.

“Put the books away, it’s time to play.”  He wore a top hat made from construction paper covered in glittering gears and offered her a pipe cleaner tiara with tissue paper roses.  “Your unbirthday awaits.”

“I thought it was everyone’s unbirthday.”  She slipped her book into the oversized pockets of her cardigan before accepting the tiara.

“You’re one of the everybody, aren’t you?”  He tipped his hat at her, stood, and offered her his hand.  She only hesitates a moment before letting him help her up.  

“I am.”  She followed Jefferson to the garden where her friends were waiting to celebrate.  It was one more small step.