#so we were outside picking lemons from his lemon tree

[patronsaintofmath]

i will jot it down here so as to not forgot my adventure of today. went to pick up omd at his house in palo alto to go to pincushion. drove up playing cumbias & the drive to pincushion was so scenic i almost pulled over & told him to drive bc i wanted to just enjoy the view. but anyways once we made it to the cattle chute, he showed me a little tunnel where there’s a bunch of graffiti & there we found a dead cow. he said that isn’t the first time he’s seen that & that it’s quite sad the cows go there to die. so he reached out his hand to help me back up & we went through the regular trail. there was a random pair of jeans left at the entrance. there was a lot of incline. thankfully there were some spots where it was flat for like 20 ft so i would stop there & take pictures as an excuse to catch a break but omd told me i handled the incline well. i asked him if he knew any jokes so he tried to think of dad jokes but the only one he knew was smth like “why was the pterodactyl quiet when he went to the bathroom,” & i said smth bc of the P & he’s like yeah the P[ee] is silent. at the top, there were 3 women w a speaker blasting music. i was kinda upset at that. i just wanted peace & quiet at the top. so i hurried up to get to the highest point where they weren’t. omd stopped to talk to them so i was alone for a bit at the top js sitting there. then he came up & we just hung out for maybe 10 minutes but the little bugs kept flying at me so i got up & he took that as his cue to get going too. so we took down a different trail so we could do a loop. i wish i could remember the turns we made but all i remember is a right after the pincushion peak. he was telling me about how i gotta make college friends bc those are the people that will be good to have around 30 years from now. then we talked about the 1800s & videogames & mexican culture. i was skipping & jumping about when we were going downhill, uphill, & on flat land. i was having so much fun hiking! ok then we made it back to the car & dude told me about pizza factory & i was like ok so we went down there. omd said we could split a sandwich & he’d pay for it but in my mind i was like nah i need more than half a sandwich so the only logical thing to do was tell him “nah i got us this time” bc he had paid last time & i secretly had the plan to order myself a whole sandwhich. so then he just paid for his beer & he got a salad which i noticed was cheaper than the sandwhich so i wonder if he got that bc it was cheaper but anyways. then we were outside & that’s when he started talking about religion & politics & eugenics & DNA & yellowjackets & so much other stuff. he also asked if i knew something about DNA (the topic escapes me now) but at the time i did so i said yes & he’s like yeah you went to edison you’re a smart girl LIKE PEOPLE THINK THAT JUST BC I WENT TO EDISON IM SMART NO YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT I SUCK AS A STUDENT but thank you for thinking so highly of me. then on the drive back we listened to doors & he was asking about my music choices & that’s when i showed him that i put his playlist on spotify. the whole ride back he talked about music. then we arrive to his house & invited me in & i step into some sort of office that is not an office actually but a room full of antique stuff. & the living room & entrance were the same way. but he was so excited to show me everything & i noticed that. he showed me some art he made w sticks & branches he found. he polished & glued rocks on top of them. thinking back about it now it reminds me of ben making his stop motion animation film from parks&rec. oh & i met seth & he’s jokingly telling me to buy omd’s stuff bc he has so much stuff & wants it gone & he’s like [omd] likes you he can give you a discount & i was like oh my goodness ive been accepted as a person 😭. & when omd had introduced me to seth he said it like he had already talked about me to seth so PEOPLE ARE PERCEIVING ME NOOO. dude has a huge house. an office, 4 bedrooms, kitchen, living room, laundry room, 2 bathrooms, & a big ass backyard W A POOL & JACUZZI

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Limoncello - Chapter 1

Pairings: Nick Folio x fem!OC, Bad Omens x fem!OC

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, meeting people, lemons, people watching

Series Masterlist

“Life is not beautiful because of the things we see or do. Life is beautiful because of the people we meet.” ~ Simon Sinek

It is not polite to stare. Maeve knew that. It had been drilled into her for as long as she could remember. Her curiosity just always got the best of her. That day was no different. 

As she was making her coffee that sunny Saturday morning, she noticed a large moving truck in the driveway right across the street. She gazed out the window as she pushed her clear rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and leaned against the kitchen counter. That house had been empty for at least a year. Someone was moving in. She was going to have new neighbors. A small smile formed on her face. Maybe she could make some new friends. 

She continued to gaze out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. A shrill beeping took her out of her staring contest with the truck and her head snapped towards the coffee maker. She made her cup before turning her attention back out the window. More vehicles had arrived at that point and the moving had begun. 

The first thing she noticed was that there were four men that were not in the uniform that the hired moving company was in. Then she noticed them moving a multitude of instruments and amps into the garage while the moving company moved the furniture into the house. 

She watched for the entire hour and a half it took for them to move everything into the house as she finished off the pot of coffee. As the moving truck pulled off and the four men stayed, all walking inside. Judging by the four mattresses she saw being carried into the house earlier, she figured that they all were going to be living there. Her curiosity was sated for the time being. 

Maeve prided herself on being a good neighbor, despite her tendency to people watch. As she got ready for the day, she had decided to bake her famous lemon cookies to bring to her new neighbors. She picked the lemons from the tree in her backyard and got to work. 

She packed them up nicely when they were done around midafternoon. As she cleaned up, the sound of heavy music coming from outside drew her back to her kitchen window. She grinned as she saw the four men in their garage and watched for a moment as they seemingly rehearsed a song. Her neighbors were a band. 

She figured that now was as good a time as any to go introduce herself. Maybe she would get to hear some good music as well. Grabbing the cookies, she rushed to her door and swung it open before changing her pace and leisurely walking across the street. Now that she was able to hear the music better, she realized it was a lot heavier than what she would usually choose to listen to. However, she didn’t mind it; the talent they had was obvious. Just as she got to their driveway, they finished up the song they were running. 

She weaved through the cars that were in the driveway before stopping right in front of the band. She noticed as they all paused to look at her and suddenly felt very intimidated. She mustered up a meek smile anyway. “Hi there!” She began, “I’m Maeve. I live right across the street. I thought I’d bring these over to welcome you guys to the neighborhood.” She held out the clear container filled neatly with cookies. 

“Ah, so the girl that watches from the window has a name?” The frontman joked, holding a hand out for her to shake. “Noah.” 

Maeve’s entire face felt hot at Noah’s joke. They caught her staring. She shook his hand, “I’m really sorry about that. Just got curious.” 

As Noah chuckled, one of the others grabbed the container from her hands before speaking to her. “That’s alright, Maeve. We got cookies out of it. I’m Nicholas, by the way.” 

Before she could reply, another walked over to her with his hand extended. “Nice to meet you, Maeve. I’m Jolly.” 

She shook his hand with a kind smile, “Lovely to meet you.”

“Folio! Come be neighborly.” Nicholas called to the drummer, before taking a bite of one of the cookies. “Whoa, did you make these?” He asked with bright eyes and a full mouth. 

She couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded at him, “Yeah, my own recipe.”

If he replied, she didn’t notice, because that’s when the drummer appeared in front of her. It was like the entire world disappeared. She could’ve sworn that her mind went fuzzy and she felt a lot warmer than before as she met his big, pretty brown eyes. She had to stop herself from gazing at his full lips. She snapped out of it when he extended his hand. “Hi,” he breathed, “I’m Nick.” He smiled at her, a slightly goofy smile but it made her heart jump into her throat. 

“Hi,” she beamed, shaking his hand. “I don’t know if you heard me earlier, but I’m Maeve.” 

She could’ve sworn she noticed him looking her up and down before responding. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.” They had stopped shaking hands, but neither of them let go until Maeve realized and pulled her hand away as if his hand was burning her. She cleared her throat before putting her hands in the back pockets of her shorts, slightly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her gaze drifted to the other guys, who were focused on the cookies, before she looked at Nick again. “Go try one,” she encouraged kindly. “You don’t have to, of course. But it might change your life.”

Nick nodded with a slight smile, “I’m sure they will.” He winked at her before going to try one of the cookies. 

She watched as his eyes lit up when he took a bite, biting down on her lip to suppress a growing smirk. “I’ll let you guys get back to it. If you need anything don’t hesitate to come find me. Maybe you can come by for dinner sometime,” she spoke. “Until next time Noah, Jolly, and Nick squared.” She locked eyes with Folio and shot him a wink like he’d just done to her moments before. Then, she carefully walked back across the street and into her home. 

A couple of hours later, the guys sat in their house, unwinding with some video games after the long day. Half of Maeve’s cookies were gone and there were a couple of pizza boxes on the kitchen island. Boxes were scattered everywhere, reminding them that they still needed to unpack the majority of their things. But that was the next day’s problem. 

Folio could not stop thinking about Maeve. They’d noticed her watching as they moved in that morning and didn’t think anything of it. But then she showed up with a sweet smile and baked goods in the middle of a quick run through of some of their songs. She was an explosion of bright color; different from the usual dark shades he was always surrounded by. The glimmer in her eyes was reminiscent of warm sunlight reflecting off of a clear blue ocean. Her hair was bouncy, shiny, soft, with different shades of brown throughout it. Some darker, some lighter, presumably from sun bleaching. The curves of her body reminded him of the suppleness that the statues of Greek Godesses were meant to depict. The way that her sun kissed skin looked against the colors she wore made him wish that the sun would never set. At this point he was zoned out, staring at the tv in a lovesick daydream. 

“That Maeve girl was really nice,” Jolly broke Nick out of his trance as he walked back in the room. Nick hadn’t even noticed when he had stepped out. “Are we going to take her up on that dinner offer?”

“Honestly,” spoke Nicholas, “I think that could be fun. And if her cooking is anywhere near as good as those cookies are-“

“I could go get her number really quick,” Folio interrupted, almost sheepishly. “So we can all plan something.” 

At this, Noah sat up and raised an eyebrow in question as he stared at Folio, seemingly trying to figure him out. “Yeah. That’s a good idea,” was all he ended up saying, his voice letting on that he wanted to say more. He ultimately decided against it. 

Folio nodded and stood up, slipping on his slides before going across the street. He knocked three times on Maeve’s door and waited for no less than a minute before it swung open to reveal Maeve in all her glory. She wore fuzzy pink lounge pants that looked almost as soft as her skin did, and a plain white tshirt. Her glasses were perched on her freckled nose and she was nursing a drink that was yellow in color. He almost forgot to speak until she spoke up herself. 

“Hey Nick,” she said with a bright, toothy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He cleared his throat, “We never got your number. I thought it might be good to have so we can make plans for that dinner you offered up.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god! I knew I forgot something. I’m so sorry,” she rambled. “Gimme your phone.” 

Nick let out a quiet laugh as pulled up the contacts on his phone and handed it to her, “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. You don’t mind if I share your number with the guys right?”

She quickly typed her number in and texted herself before handing it back, “Not at all! Just have them all text me so I can save their contacts.”

“Thanks,” Nick smiled. His eyes fell to the drink she was holding, “What is that?”

She followed his gaze. “Oh! It’s limoncello. I make my own. Wanna try it?” She held out the glass. 

Nick shrugged and hesitantly took the glass, waterfalling a little bit into his mouth. “Whoa,” he handed the glass back. “That’s nice.” They stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up again, “I’m gonna head back. But we’ll text you. Goodnight, Maeve.” He turned and began to walk back across the street

“Goodnight, Nick.” She called out after her before closing the door. 

Nick went back inside with two things in his mind: Maeve and Limoncello. 

[thescribeoflostmemories]

Secret Santa

Yan(?)! Capitano x wife! Reader

(Yes, it's the huntress reader)

Warning: Unhealthy relationship, Lemon Pudding, black-mailing(?), smexy time, inaccurate depictions of drunken-ness, some fluff and crackers. Mild yandere

lil summary: Waifu tried to get away from hubby but ended up bonding a bit with the help of someone during the festivals.

ps. I was in a hurry to make this before the month ends, hopefully next xmas would be me completing the other harbingers (probably)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have no idea how you got pulled into this, one moment you were fraying your husband for cuddling you in bed (Well actually, you were the one who’s cuddling him) the next you were told by one of the sermon goers named Sister Pangita to aid in carolling for the unfortunate. You tried to deny the invitation (forcefully) but you relent, since it’s not always how you get to enjoy the winter holidays. Even if you get to see your arrogant husband to whom you will gladly ignore the whole night too.

“ So you’re telling us we could get injured?”

“Yep, which is why I asked some soldiers and agents to help us with getting the presents to the recipients.” Sister Pangita says with a wide smile, her curly dark hair tucked under her nun cap.

“Uhm, Sister Pangita?” Raising your hand to catch her attention, her gaze fixated to you , making you shiver in the cold. Even with only one eye, the anxiety you felt never ceased.

“Mm, yes, miss?” Gesturing you to speak up.

“What if someone is in critical condition once engaged?”

“Do not worry, you are free from your burdens if you just hand the presents and list to the next worker.” She speaks as if it were no big deal. But it is concerning to you that there are some people in the group who don't seem to know how to fight.

“Though, it is why we picked a select few like you who are capable of fighting these thieves. After our caroling, I have the soldiers and agents scatter for you to join and aid you in your quest to complete the ending year.” Sister clapped her hands, a smile on her face formed on her sickly image.

You tried, keyword here tried to match their voice, though you end up with a sore one with how much you tried to control your voice with a falsetto. People kept looking at you weird and wondering if you should even be here. 

Sister Pangita had handed you a sack of presents and a list of names who had been good this year. With a sigh you put the list in the pocket of your dress. Your bow and arrows on your back. 

Your husband insisted you wear these embarrassing clothes, your back is exposed to the elements. On your back is a big green bow that holds the dress in a tight fit, green gloves keep your hands nice and warm.

Feet trekked on the snow that did little to no hindrance to your journey. This quest proved to be difficult due to how your monstrous spouse had sheltered you away and did not let you out unless he came with you.

Not noticing a person blocking your way. Your voice got soft from suddenly feeling the coldness on your face. “Oh I beg your-” You look up and see the hulking figure of your husband in armor, his white coat replaced with a red one, outside is decorated like a festive tree…

Silence before closing your eyes and make a U-turn, shouting “Sister Pangita! Sister Pangita! Where are you?! I got a sprained ankle!” Your fast paced walking turned into running to make Capitano lose sight of you. You quickly want to be relieved of your burden of being the festive gift giver.

“Dove!” He called out, the clanks of metal footsteps can be heard growing closer.

“Fuck off!” Cursing at him, not minding if you received stares from other people since they knew you loathe him. The soft clinks of your shoes sound against the pavement, the snow here has already been cleared of.

With a sharp turn you hid between houses. Capitano going past you. And saw a small group of children, “Oh, children!” You called out to them, and they turned to you.

“Yes, miss?” One little boy with long black hair and blue eyes stared brightly at you.

“I think, I saw Mr. Santa over there.” You pointed at Capitano who was asking a person over there if they saw you.

“You did?!” Their eyes lit up and went over to see Capitano, making you chortle a bit and ran off with the sack of your own gifts to bestow to children.

“DOVE!” Enraged roar can be heard in the distance as hurried feet nearly give away your location by leaving footprints.

Soon when you think the chase is over, you are ambushed by the ‘thieves’ that wanted the gifts. Cryo slimes and based creatures partnered with a few people to command them.

“Aren’t you a little old to be expecting gifts!” It wasn’t a question as you drew the bow and aimed it at the creatures to electrocute them.

"Why! Don't! You! Relax! It's a holiday! " Each phrase you released arrows at them, not noticing another one sneaking up at you. Ready to strike, yet it never made an impact on your vulnerable backside. 

The opponent tossed aside as if a rag doll. “Your methods of capturing my attention are perplexing, Dove.” A familiar tone of arrogance called out, or so you think of it as such. 

“And I was hoping to have a nice relaxing evening with just the two of us and not to be accosted, by children!” Ironically, with his heavy armor, he managed to take down half of the enemies matching your speed. 

“I would have enjoyed the event! If you haven’t!” You gave out a few more arrows covering his blind spots while he charged at the ones behind you. “Joined in!”

“Seems they all left.” Indeed, It wasn’t until long after the others had realized going after you is not worth it. The others seemed to have fled and carried away their fallen allies.

A puff of warm breath escaped your lips, pushing back your hair. " The fuck are you staring for?” You had noticed him staring at your back side for a bit there. 

“Nothing, find it quite odd you haven’t run off again.” he replied simply. Making you turn to him, weapons tucked away securely to your back.

"Fuck you." You grumbled. Hand going through your hair again and scratching an itch.

"Sorry but you aren’t in the list." With how on edge you are, you are easily annoyed and replied hastily with.

"Like hell I would have my time spent with you in bed" Stomping off without him again, this time you dragged your small sack of presents… Of course Capitano easily found you and you got lost on the way there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the house of one of your recipients, Capitano seemed to be baffled at the notion of going inside. “A chimney, can’t we just put it by the door?” He says looking at you struggling to get up the house, thankfully there’s no fire.

“No can do Capybara, if we just leave it outside then the thieves can just snatch it right up.- Woah!” Capitano was about to catch you but you held your grip on the roof more. You rather fall than get caught by him.

“Be careful.” He says.

“Pipe it, tin can. I know what I’m doing.” You grunt, it’s a wonder why he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet. If you were in his shoes you wouldn’t tolerate the unhealthy relationship. For all you know he has a thing for spouses nagging his ear off or saying terrible things about him. 

While you’re busy climbing up and getting on the chimney, Capitano is actually enjoying the view of that upskirt. Though too bad you climbed too quickly.

Your problem with leaving the gift isn't much to think about since it was late at night. But a rather nice child had left you a note and left some snacks for you, and no cookies were spared on that plate.

Once you got out of the house, you safely got back to the roof. Swinging your arms in preparation to jump down, a bird flew by surprising you and causing you to fall down to his arms. “Told you to be careful, dove.” He laughed using his free hand to rub off the crumb off your lip, you blushed. That earned a smack on his shoulder for that, it wasn’t that hard compared to the previous smacks you had given him.

And so, both of you went to the next recipients to break in through the chimney or lock picked just to drop the gifts off… At this point you were tired. You went ahead of your husband and met a familiar man by the guest room.

“Yo, lil’ firecracker~” He waved at you with a bottle of booze in hand, and how could you say no to an old friend…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your husband wanted to check on you since you looked pretty much tired from caroling and the events of earlier. His thoughts were disturbed by a familiar chuckle from the guest room. Just as he was about to enter, Simeon came out with a bag in hand. Annoyed that this pest just waltz in the house without him being notified. He had to fire who let him in.

" Hey, relax, this happens all the time. But thanks pal, I managed to get in contact with Miss Sandrone!" How optimistic, typical. Leaning his arm on the general’s.

" Bah, don't look so sour bro. " Simeon hiccupped, but he looked off, a heavy scent of booze wafted through his breath. 

"Got you a lil' gift, heard you were complaining about a few things and she wanted some fun… So why not loosen up" he passes the brown bag to the general.

“A lil something- something, a friend of mine made it. Though use it sparingly~" Before Capitano could say anything, Simeon already left, still waddling away from his vision.

Capitano can handle him next time since his main priority is with you, his wife. Once he enters, the armor wearing man is greeted by a surprise. You drunk off your mind, your arms embracing him.

“Dove, you’re drunk. You need some rest.” patting your shoulders, but you didn’t shrug it off unlike the first time he did it.

“I know… It’s just too cold on the bed.” Rubbing your head against him, you aren’t even watching where your hands are going. Trailing on his chest, he pulled back. 

“You should take a bath, I’ll have one of the maids draw you one-” He looked back at you, seeing how you held on to him again so tightly.

"I…  love you~" Your voice muffled against him, his hand on the handle was let go.

“You’re on dangerous grounds, _____.” You heard him but in response you just pulled him to the bed. And you said something you shouldn’t have. But who was he to deny his wife some affections?

That night he's been smothered with kisses and body coated in hickies. You might even see traces of your lipstick on his neck and face if he doesn't cover it up with his armor.

And in the morning, you wouldn’t want to get out of bed until late in the afternoon. It was a good thing that Capitano went away as soon as he woke up early and had you dressed so you wouldn’t find out, if you did he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Can you stop staring? It’s giving me the creeps…” Your face scrunched up in discomfort as you ate some soup. The warmth of the broth eases your pain as your husband just coughs.

“Sorry.”

Dessert time 🍮 warning!

The memory of you between his legs and forcing him open remained in his mind for a good while.  " Mmm… " From within the room, he could hear how hard you're sucking him. He most likely didn't expect to get this sort of gift instead.

Head between his legs, your hands kept him there. You could feel the grip he has on your scalp making you deep throat his entire length into you.

With a loud wet pop, you catch your breath. The large shaft of your husband rests on your head, warm breath fans on him. He couldn't get enough seeing that cute face looking up at him, worshiping him, teasing the red head.

"Chu." You playfully kissed his tip, making him groan softly, rubbing him still, coating his whole member in spit preparing him for the next hole to enter.

He remembered how quickly you tried to strip yourself, ended up getting his help to undo the dress. Everything felt so fuzzy. All you could feel is your apparel never felt so irritating to wear at the moment which was gone in a flash.

"Yes!" You cried, tears fell from your face as your legs holds him closer when he gave one last thrust.

[dreamsgazer]

Day 3 - Holiday Food

12 Days of Christmas

Warnings: Some minor swearing, mention of sex but no smut or anything graphic.

I wasn’t exactly surprised when Lemon told me that most of the Twins’ Christmas meals used to come out from a frozen plastic tray, when they were children. 

I was more surprised however, that things haven’t changed much now that they can definitely afford food worthy of its name.

Lemon grabs an apple from the Murano fruit bowl Tangerine and I bought in Venice for him during our last romantic gateway “I guess the holidays are not really a huge thing when you risk to be abroad during them because you have a mission.”

He bites the fruit, shrugging “I mean, we put on the decorations and all the stuff, but we never know if we will be in London to enjoy them during the actual day. They are still nice, though,” he adds, looking around with pride. I let my gaze take in the decorations he has picked during one of our longest shopping trips earlier in December. While my Tangerine definitely likes the more traditional - and obscenely expensive - decorations, carefully arranged with measure in the halls of his penthouse, Lemon is... eclectic.

If I must find a theme, I will definitely go with Winter Wonderland Candyland & Glittering Stuff that Lemon randomly liked. It works, though, in its own way. Exactly like Lemon.

I stop staring at a glittery tree decoration shaped like Thomas the Tank Engine –  one of the many, many Thomas ornaments spread around us ”Well, since this year you both are going to be around to enjoy them, how about we organize a proper Christmas lunch?”

”That’s a good idea,” his face lights up with sheer delight “we can have turkey and festive punch and all the good stuff! We can phone a restaurant and see if they deliver on Christmas day!”

“Or I could do it!”

Lemon looks at me, his eyebrows lifting in surprise “You mean you are willing to cook us a meal?”

“Not a meal,” I tut with fake annoyance “but a full, complete, hopefully tasty Christmas lunch.”

He seems at loss for words, but not displeased. I shrug “Listen Lem, you guys always do nice things for me, all the time, so it seems only natural I want to reciprocate.”

“Well, you are banging my brother and you are a sweet, fun person to have around,” he interrupts me with a huge grin “It’s no big deal to be nice with you!”

I hope I’m not blushing at both the brotherly teasing and the sweet compliment “Uh, thanks I guess. But that’s my point: it’s no big deal to cook a nice meal for people I care about. Especially for Christmas!”

He still seems reluctant to accept my offer so I insist “If this makes you feel better, I can let you help me. Tangerine is out of question,” I quickly add “I love him to the moon and back, but I would like not to set my kitchen on fire! Or having the turkey thrown in frustration outside the window! Or-”

“Yes, point taken, darling, thank you very much.”

We both turn on our tall stools in time to see Tangerine entering Lemon’s kitchen with a pouting expression, back from his tailoring session for a new suit. 

“Already back?” Lemon asks.

“Yeah, just in time to listen to the two of you trash talk my cooking skills”

”What skills?”

Tangerine flips him off, making his brother laugh “C’mon mate, do you remember when you tried to make us a Crisp Sandwich and you somehow destroyed the packet and then smashed the crisps?”

”I was fucking ten, Lemon!” is the indignant reply.

”So was I, but my packet didn’t look like a T-rex had gone through it.”

I try not to laugh, gently grabbing Tangerine’s tailored jacket and forcing him to bend over where I’m sitting. I kiss him lightly, the familiar tickle of his moustache a welcomed and well-known added sensation “Sorry, T, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I’m aware that while he’s not annoyed for real, some cuddles are not going to hurt. He likes them too much even if he won’t ever voice that out loud. 

Tangerine huffs against my lips, wrapping an arm around my shoulders “Kiss me again and maybe I will consider buying you a nice Christmas present, you naughty little thing.”

Lemon pretends to gag in the background, and I laugh pushing my lips against Tangerine’s. He lingers a moment longer, then straightens himself “So, Christmas Lunch, uh? Do you think I have enough culinary skills to help you at least with the groceries?”

I want to reply something sweet and warm, but Lemon interjects with a devilish grin “I fear not. Do you remember two years ago when I asked you to buy some custard and you came back with a jar of mustard?”

My snort is covered by Tangerine’s frustrated groan “Oh, fuck off, would you?”

”Don’t worry, love,” I pat his arm affectionately “We’ll let you pick the wine. Maybe.”

[itwasthisorthemilitary]

March 28, 2024

Class reached a fever pitch today and ended with a fight that has been a long time coming. We all dispersed, separately bitching to our closest confidants. After all was said and done I decided to go for a solo walk up the big hill. The clouds were rolling in and I just wanted to feel the breeze and rain, if it was ever going to come. I spent a good 45 minutes on the hill just by myself, eating a lemon I picked from a tree, petting a cow, decompressing. I came home relatively early and we had dinner very early tonight because of the activities commencing in the evening. Dinner was one of the top 10 I’ve had here. Sughedys can cook.

Then I got changed and headed to church for the washing of the feet and the silent procession. I had a really interesting experience at Church tonight. I walked down with my mom and Elianis and saw Megan sitting outside the church alone. Megan’s personality is best described like a wonderful camp counselor. She’s bubbly and more patient than any of us here. But tonight she looked so defeated. She explained to me that since coming to Panama she’s really missed going to church, especially as we approach Easter. But her family here isn’t religious so she didn’t know if/how she could attend the service tonight. She was close to tears explaining to me that she was just going to sit outside to listen in. I asked Sughedys separately if it would be okay if a Megan went home and changed and sat with us. I also asked to make sure that this wouldn’t rub Megan’s parents the wrong way.

I will never appreciate church the way Megan does, but I can appreciate the look on her face the whole service.

There’s also something to say about sisterhood in the church. Universally when put into a situation when it’s expected to be on your best behavior, suddenly everything becomes hilarious. Elianis and I were consumed by a fit of laughter.

The whole time it was so freaking hot (really had to refrain from saying “goddamn hot” there) and I wanted nothing more than to not be sitting there. It was a long night, I definitely didn’t feel God in that church, but I did feel tired. At the bare minimum, Catholicism in Spanish is relatively easy to understand so maybe the best thing I got out of tonight was some language practice.

March 29th, 2024

Today was one of those days that made me excited again. Second night in a row that I have slept SO well. Also, I slept in until 7:30 which is wicked late for me (clearly i missed the procession but no one cared).Today Caitlin, Audrey, and I went to Octavio’s farm for the day. Octavio is my uncle? Grand uncle? Whatever, he lives next door. I’ve never spent much time talking to him but today I really got to know him. He has a farm about 30 minutes away by car and he fully runs it all on his own with no help. It’s beautiful. He dreams of planting a lot more coffee in the coming years. We picked fresh pineapple off the bushes and ate them right there. We spent the whole day with absolutely no agenda; walking around, reading in the hammock, chatting, and then all the women prepared a huge lunch. It was such a chill day and now I have that nice sun sleepy feeling in my head. Absolutely no qualms with spending the whole day with Audrey and Caitlin, and we got a lovely change of scenery.

Many many photos to come

[hungerpunch]

hiii lo pls tell me ur top 3 plants 💕

this is truly very cruel what do u expect me to saaaaay ಥ_ಥ what if i type three plants and the other plants SEE IT!!!! idek if you mean plants that i personally own or plants in the world? okay i'm gonna give myself rules

going with plants that i personally own and i'm going to divide them btwn what i have inside and outside so !!! there!

inside:

i'm fuckingggldk fkldfjdf. i have like 40-something houseplants. honestly maybe more i haven't counted in quite some time. top 3? ummm okay okay. it's fine. i am strong and i can do this.

scindapsus pictus (it's not a pothos!!!!!) - atp my scindapsus is the oldest houseplant that i have due to the fact that in 2018 the furnace for our apartment died while we were out of town for christmas, so i returned to 26 dead houseplants and had to start over. she's my heart plant; she's been with me thru so much, she's been so forgiving, she stuck with me despite grief-driven neglect a couple years ago. i think scindapsus pictus are underrated. they're super tolerant of most conditions and are the opposite of drama queens. my beloved.

monstera deliciosa - i meaaan!!! how could it not be. i call mine goliath or monstro and he's big big. he's taller than me. i've had him for several years now and he's easily my biggest plant. he makes me feel very safe and settled when i just hang out with him.

epipremnum pinnatum marble - i have not had this guy very long; i got him as a babybaby off buynothing from a Serious Plant Dude who had to downsize his collection for an emergency move (thank u joey). i call the plants i got from him the joey plants and of them, i am most digging the marble king pothos. i had no idea it was as new of a cultivar as it was when i got it. it's still little but it's growingg and it's already giving me fenestrated leaves! oh it's so precious to me!!!! if i can get it to maturity, it will be absolutely drop dead gorgeous.

outside

swamp milkweed!! just posted ab them this morning. they're so fucking cute!

an olive tree that i was gifted by a truly ancient woman i was picking up a starter lemon tree from; it's so pretty i think!

the raspberry bushes!! hello i have eaten raspberries from my own yard!!!! incredible!

[anonymously (or not) ask me any question you’d like to know about me]

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #173

I decided that today is another day of resting, mostly because I have a video game to play with M, at least for now. We played more Necesse, and today I actually have a picture to show you of the garden I built…

...It's actually bigger than this now; it's 5 rows wide. And soon, it will be 6 rows wide. In addition to all the crops that come from seeds, I thought to try to include the berry bushes and the trees, too. The 16 squares are, from left to right and top to bottom: sugar beets, wheat, cabbage, tomatoes, corn, rice, carrots, potatoes, eggplant, chili peppers, pumpkins, strawberries and coffee, some kind of fictional ice flower, sunflowers, some kind of fictional fire flower, and mushrooms.

...Since taking that picture, strawberries and coffee have their own separate fields. I also started a field full of some fictional cave plant, a field of onions, and a field that is half filled with blueberries, while the other half is filled with blackberries.

I still need to build spaces for the trees. So far, we have apples, bananas, coconuts, and lemons.

...And yes, I am aware that all of these fruits and vegetables grow in wildly different climates, hahaha! But games like these tend to ignore the climate factor, because otherwise it becomes too cumbersome to do anything.

The garden is a lot bigger than what my settlers need. But this just means that they'll never go hungry. And it also means that we can sell the extra for coin to buy other stuff with.

Oh right!! I should probably show you the houses I built for my settlers! Here:

...You'll notice I've got sheep and cows and little piggies, too!

Little piggies... I am reminded of a little nursery rhyme in my part of the world that parents (in my case, my grandparents) sometimes say to their children while playing with their toes; you point to each toe in order, starting with the biggest one, and you say each line for each toe:

This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none. And this little piggy cried, "wee, wee, wee!" all the way home!

...I wonder if you have that rhyme in your world.

Hey, Sephiroth? What kinds of nursery rhymes do the people of your world say to children, anyway? Is that even a thing in your world? And... given your own upbringing, is it something you ever experienced? Or is it maybe something you've only ever seen in passing, done by the families in the places where you were stationed? Do you know any nursery rhymes? And if you do, which ones do you like best?

I like The Itsy Bitsy Spider. And not just because I think spiders are very cute (because they ARE very cute, especially tarantulas!! everyone else is allowed to be wrong!), but because it's a lesson in persistence - behold:

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out! Out came the sun and dried up all the rain, and the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

...That one's got a melody and a whole hand movement thing that happens. But the important bit here is that this spider is undeterred from its goal. It tried and then it failed because of forces outside of its control. And then it got right back up and tried again. The song does not tell us the result, but I like to think that it was successful the second time.

I also kinda like this one:

A-tisket, a-tasket, a green and yellow basket. I wrote a letter to my friend and on the way I dropped it, I dropped it, I dropped it, and on the way I dropped it. A little boy, he picked it up and put it in his pocket.

...I have no idea what a "tisket" or a "tasket" are. But it has a cheerful little melody. Also, I tend to drop and lose things a lot, so I guess I kind of find this one relatable, hahaha! The notion that someone might come along and pick it up and return it to me later is kind of nice.

You know what, Sephiroth? If any of these letters get "dropped" somehow on their way to you, I don't mind if a little boy picks them up and puts them in his pocket for a bit of courage and strength - especially if that little boy is you. Maybe if you like what I write to you, then you can somehow send them along to your past self; even with Glenn and Matt and Lucia, he still seems a little lonely, doesn't he?

Well anyway. It becomes late, and I've not done a whole lot today, so I suppose I should stop writing here before I start rambling.

I love you. Please try to imitate the persistent spider from the little rhyme and rise up from your knees every time you fall down. And if you need a hand up, mine will always be here, waiting for you to take it.

Please stay safe out there. Please make good, kind, and gentle choices. I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[sio-writes]

A Botanist's Guide: Chapter 10

<<Chapter 9

<<<Chapter 1

TW: Alcohol consumption (nothing excessive, but it's in there)

Cassie

"Don't be nervous," I say. "It's just a presentation. A presentation that in part determines the future of your career. You have to make them like you for this one, because by the end of the experiment it'll be too late."

"Uh," Jillie says, eyes darting to the side and then back to me. She shifts uncomfortably under my hands, caught in my steel-like grip.

"Say something like that, but better," I plead, releasing her and anxiously looking for a presence who isn't there. It's just Jillie and me today, as it has been for the past week. And it's Milestone Day. The day I present my tiny little plants to a board for them to go "Hmm, this one could be greener," and then they decide to pull all my funding. And my lab. And Jillie. 

Jillie shakes herself free from my grasp. "Hon, you're gonna do fine. And if you don't,  it's not the end of the world."

I glance up and down the hallway, like a final girl in a horror movie. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she clasps a hand on my shoulder. "Even if you don't have the lab, you'll still be here. With us."

I know who she means by "us," but I don't want to correct her. I last saw him a week ago, and he'd left in such a hurry neither of us could even say goodbye. "They already don't like me, Jill."

"You don't know that! Besides, it's not like you can make the plants grow any faster. Honestly, they gave you the shittiest timeline. What respectable scientist asks you to grow fully formed fruit trees in three months?"

I heave a sigh through my nose. I don't have an argument against her, but that's not the point. If this doesn't go well it'll mean I failed. That I couldn't do literally the only thing I was put on this planet to accomplish. And if I can't do that, then why am I here? 

For all that I was set up to fail, the plants do look great. We rushed them like crazy, but they're kicking some serious ass. The tomatoes and beans are starting to flower, and the lettuce and strawberries are spreading their leaves out. The lemon tree saplings are ready to be put in the ground outside. The greenhouse actually smells like a greenhouse, crisp leaves and fresh citrus. We pulled a potato out of the ground and it was maybe the size of a quarter but it was the best looking thing I'd seen all year. 

But the board won't see it that way. They only want results, and experiments past have acquainted me with their specific brand of expectations. Today, as always, I'll be classified as "underperforming." 

Normally I'd wish for the cold logic of my bristly alien coworker to back Jillie up and also work to make me feel better, but he's not here. He hasn't been here for a week. Last equivalent-Friday he packed his things and mentioned…something about the auditing process and giving us prep time, before he left without another word. I refuse to think his name because then I'll get all weepy and anxious all over again which Jillie picks up on like a bloodhound. And I've been trying not to wonder why things were left so…shitty. My best guess is that he figured me out. Aliens all have a sixth sense, don't they? That's how it goes in the movies. They can read minds and he's been reading my unstoppable torrent of filth and squishy romance that's been hitting me like a tidal wave ever since he kissed my hand in that stupid aquarium. 

Pushing down my own unbearable emotions was supposed to pep me up for today, make me emotionless like the results of the experiment. But I don't feel any better than when I left my apartment this morning. Just walking inside has my stomach churning because this whole side of the building reminds me of undergrad. I'm not sure if I'm going to break out in hives or shotgun a beer.

Jillie wraps her hands around my arms. This is where we part ways, or where she waits outside with tissues and a finger of whiskey. "You got this, kick their ass."

I look to the doors, then back to her ruggedly determined face. She can't come inside to watch the presentation, but she's got enough moxy to make plain old dirt look cool. And I've gone through worse and come out…kind of okay at the end. Relax. It's just another meeting with a bunch of suits. Suits with PhDs. 

The doors open, and I stumble on my way to the platform. He's here, Kri is here. Sitting with the board, or more aptly in the row behind them. And they're all looking at me. He's here, he knew he'd be here, and he didn't think to give me a warning? Jerk.

I give a short nod to Dr. Rogan, Choi, Devi, and Esmail. Dr. Devi is the only one who gives me a smile and a wave, putting me a little more at ease, but Dr. Rogan is the one I need to impress. His stare is as cold and indifferent as ice was to the Titanic, and I try not to internalize it. He's always been a hardass. I don't bother looking back at Kri, mostly because I'm peeved, but partially because I don't know which would be worse from him: any emotion, or none at all.

And even stupider, I still miss the bastard. Jillie's good company, but it's weird not having someone to banter over the proper watering procedure with. I felt like we could talk for hours. We had really started to click, and I think I ruined it. 

I'm trying not to freak out, but the only correlation I can make is our trip. I forced it to go pretty deep, but I didn't think I took it too far. If I recall correctly, he offered up the information, I didn't ask for it. I offered the same, but was it too much? Has he decided I'm not worth the trouble? I don't want to lose him just because I'm too fucked up, but after today I may never see him again.

"Dr. Rowland," Rogan starts, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Before we begin, we need to address your audit."

My stomach sinks. "Yes?" I never saw the audit, but I have a good idea of what's in the early sections. I never expected Kri to change it, even I'll admit I was harsh at first. But if Rogan saw the whole thing, he'd see that we got better with time.

Rogan turns around, ignoring me in favor of Kri. "Dr. Khri'asxu, you were her auditor, correct?"

"Correct," Kri says.

"Would you say she acted appropriately?"

Kri's eyes narrow. "Yes." 

I grit my teeth. He calls my attention only to ignore me. What a dick. 

"Your report states she lacked discipline in the initial weeks, yes?"

"That was my mistake, she needed no improvement." I catch myself before I can roll my eyes, trying very hard to keep my mouth shut. My hands are clasped behind my back so they don't see my fists tighten. I know exactly where Rogan is going with this, and I'm sick of it. 

Rogan turns back to look at me, subtly doing a once-over and I have to resist making a face. "And she followed the proper dress code?" 

When his back is turned, I scowl. My dress is fine. It's form-fitting, but it sits at my knees with sleeves to the elbows. It has a high, draping neckline where I put on my only piece of jewelry-- a flat silver necklace, for occasions just like this one where I'm in a room with judgy men. If I had come in wearing my normal jeans and lab coat, they'd mark me down for being unprofessional. I left my hair down and parted it on the side today because Jillie told me it would look nice.

Kri seems to remember that I'm in the room, his gaze lingering on me. "Yes."

"Including proper safety protocol such as hair--"

"Excuse me," I say, planting my hands on my hips. "I'm right here. You can ask me these questions."

Rogan twists back to face me, finally. "Dr. Rowland there are several notes on your appearance that--"

"How is my wardrobe is relevant to my scientific analysis?" I can process what Kri thought of my clothes later, I need to get this presentation over with.

"We need to maintain professional airs to our hosts--"

"The aliens who don't wear clothing?? No offense," I say down to Kri, who only shrugs.

"Now, if you're ready," I say. "I'd like to begin."

Dr. Rogan purses his lips. "Have it your way, Dr. Rowland."

***

Emotions are easy to set aside when doing a slideshow. All I have to do is get the little clicker in hand--complete with laser pointer-- and talk enough to cover the bullet points and the charts. Jillie and I put this together and went over it about a million times before today. I know it front to back, I could point to all the pictures with my eyes closed. It's smooth sailing, but by the third slide I'm still sweating up a storm. I'm not the best at reading a room, but the atmosphere feels dismal. I'm on my own up here, no help, no impressed expressions, no encouragement at all. Just the scratch of pens or typing on a laptop. I want to stop and ask if I'm doing alright or if I should just start packing my stuff now.

And each time I look down, sweeping my gaze over their faces, I make eye contact with Kri. He's not looking at the presentation at all, just at me. Which wouldn't be so bad, except it looks like he wants to eat me alive. He looks downright pissed. No notes on his part--he doesn't need them-- so it's nothing but awkward eye contact. For an hour and a half. Is it really my outfit? I don't think I look unprofessional, I'm ninety percent sure I've worn this on a dinner date before. So what'd I do to piss him off?

It's a notion that grabs my attention the whole presentation, like an itch in the back of my brain that I'm not allowed to acknowledge. 

So I push through it, wading through muck and hoping there's clear water on the other side. I like to think that I know what I'm talking about, and as I click through each slide, I feel more and more relaxed. I'm talking with my hands relaying stories and mishaps, I even get Rogan to crack a smile a few times. Choi laughs at a stupid joke I make, and Devi is smiling down at her screen when I start on the final results.

By the time I'm wrapping up, we're practically shooting the shit. Dr. Choi promises to stop by the greenhouse to see the plants, and Dr. Devi wants to get drinks sometime. I'm shaking hands and talking about future experiments, ignoring the cooling layer of sweat and rush of energy I have from my fight or flight response going into overdrive.

I want to talk with Kri - but what do I say? What level of familiarity is best in this situation? I can't decide, so I leave him alone; I'm pointedly ignoring him as I wave everyone off and pull my little cart of samples out of the room. He doesn't make any moves to speak to me either, but I'm not letting myself be hurt by it.

Throwing open the door, I feel so much lighter. Jillie's not back from wherever she goes during these presentations, and the hallway is empty, save for me and my cart full of stuff.

That is, until the door to the hall clicks shut, and Kri steps out. An angry chill runs up my spine when he starts towards me--I don't know what to say. I didn't inside, and I don't know now. He stops in front of me, and I realize he's waiting for me to move, but this could be my only chance to talk to him again.

I go for casual. I smack his chest and it's like hitting a brick wall. "You dick! You were observing and you didn't tell me?!"

He straightens, caught out and somehow offended. "It was confidential information."

The anger is back, indignant and unchecked. "And my appearance? Was that confidential information too?!"

He crosses all four arms and flutters his wings, but doesn't answer. At that moment, Jillie turns the corner and sees us. 

"Hey!" She rushes up to me and crushes me in a hug. "I heard laughing and talking, you totally did it!" 

Her smile is huge as she hugs me with all her might, and the nervous energy coursing through my body needs to dissipate, so I squeeze her back. "I did it!" 

She turns her attention to Kri, unaware of the tension from before. "What'd they say??" 

Kri swallows, looking between the two of us. "They did not begin discussion until I left." Well, he certainly doesn't seem to have a problem talking to her. He should be talking to me casually.

"But what were the vibes?" Jillie insists.

"The…vibrations?" 

"Their impression!" 

Kri looks at us again, as if weighing the professional consequences of office gossip. I can be mad at him for noting down my outfit, but I can't be mad if he just wants to follow the rules. It's kind of his thing. He's done enough for me in the past few weeks, even if he's reverted to his earlier, dickish ways. 

I lean back, conceding. "You don't have to."

Kri's eyes land on me and stay there, and he sighs. "They seemed rather impressed, actually." 

My jaw drops. "Really?!" 

"Indeed."

I let out an inhumanly high squeal and wrap my arms around Jillie. "They liked me!"

"They liked you!"

"It may be too early to--"

"Shut up!" I wave him off. "They liked me!"

Jillie's head falls back and she looks at me with wide eyes. "Celebration time?"

I groan out loud, "Fuck yes." 

Celebration time narrows down to circling through the three bars and single nightclub in the Outpost until we forget what planet we're on, and then passing out at the closest respective apartment. It sounds heavenly. I'm not a nightclub kind of girl, but there's nothing left to do at the lab today. And I definitely need to unwind.

Jillie turns to Kri, and I nearly stop her before she asks, "You comin'?"

I'm halfway to covering Jillie's mouth when he looks to me. I've been caught, and shame bubbles up behind my chest. That was super rude, today was probably just as stressful for him as it was for me.

He looks me up and down, and shakes his head minutely, "I have no desire to drink with coworkers." And then he turns on his heel and walks down the hallway.

Okay, maybe it wasn't so rude of me.

"Ouch, dude." Jillie says, and I feel my high from earlier starting to deflate. Disappointment swells in me like water in a clogged toilet--unpleasant, gross, and I need to get rid of it as fast as possible.

When I don't have a snappy reply, Jillie picks it up. "Well screw you!" she says to his retreating back. "We got some good shit going on!"

I should say something, should reach out again. I at least should ask how he's been. We're still friends, right? Even if he doesn't tell me what's going on.

"What do you want to do first?" Jillie asks as we head down the hallway with my stuff in tow.

"I dunno," I reply, shaking my thoughts clear like an Etch-A-Sketch. I can worry about this tomorrow. "Chogie's?"

Her face twists in disgust. "Their apps are gross. I have a place in mind."

I nod in agreement, their food all tastes like the same deep fried crap. Eating first is a good idea too, I'm not an undergrad anymore and even just the thought of straight vodka makes me gag.

I eye her in my peripheral. "I thought it was the usual?" And she turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"We're gonna add some laser tag."

***

"I really don't think--"

"Don't think," Jillie shouts over the loud music being pumped into the obstacle course. "Just shoot!"

We clink our shots of tequila and down them as the doors to the waiting room open. There's about a dozen other people in here with us, and another room on the opposite side with the dozen or so members of the opposing team. 

The course doors slide open and Jillie crouches down and starts walking around like a covert operative in a video game, and it makes me laugh so hard someone on the opposing team pegs me with their laser. This is our second stop on the circuit, so I'm already a few drinks deep. It's a pleasant buzz in my brain-- the floor is wobbly, the lights are strobing, and it feels like my presentation is miles away. I could shoot it away with my laser gun. The bar we'd hit before coming here had been very generous with their pours, and I've always been a lightweight. Thoughts come and go, popping like bubbles before moving onto the next topic, and Jillie has been wonderfully distracting.

There's no plan, no tactic, I have no idea what I'm doing. I run around like a chicken, tagging whoever I can, even if it's someone on the same team. Pull trigger, gun goes pew pew, that's all I need to know. The music is louder in here than the waiting room, drowning out the shouts, the lasers, and my thoughts. 

This is fun, I'm having a good time, and not thinking about much at all. The course is a madhouse. The whole thing is neon on top of a healthy coat of black paint, lit by blacklights so everything shines. There's tunnels, ramps, a second level to snipe the nearly twenty people they've crammed in here. The alcohol in my system is simultaneously making me a better shot and the worst fucking thing this building has seen as I sprint from hiding spot to hiding spot. Jillie had ditched me the second the doors opened, and when people see me stumbling they pass me by. After having all eyes on me for several hours today, it's nice being the drunk girl no one pays attention to.

After a few rounds of getting our asses handed to us, we make friends with the rest of the team. Our bar-hopping ritual isn't so exclusive, it seems, as John and Billie, a married couple from France, are doing the same circuit we are. We rope in a few extra bodies-- Harper and Divi, a human-ento couple that I've been eyeing since we started at the laser tag. Divi has a light brown plating, with cream-colored vitiligo all down her arms and legs. And tailing us is Lindsey, a newbie from accounting.

Everyone is drunk, and by the time we reach the nightclub, we're clumped on the dancefloor like besties. It's loud, it smells like sweat and alcohol and cheap perfume, but with each knock of an elbow and bump into my hip, I'm forgetting about the presentation and focusing on the alcohol singing in my veins.

"What brought you out?" Lindsey asks over the thump of the music. She's speaking more to Jillie, something she's been doing all night. I don't mind though, Jillie's been more than happy to oblige. Jillie answers Lindsey over the music, and they have a stilted, but very close conversation. Jillie laughs at something she says and pulls her into a dance, and I think they're hitting it off really well. 

Lindsay is nice. She bought us shots and pulled us all onto the dancefloor, she's opened up a lot since the laser tag. 

After a few songs it's too much heat, too close contact, and I slam into the bar. I wave the bartender down for some water, and rest my head on my hand as I watch the crowd. Right on me is Jillie, giving me her biggest eyes, full of concern.

"Hey, you okay?" she asks, voice winded. 

I wave her off. "Oh I'm fine. Just needed a break."

The bartender sets a full glass in front me and looks at Jillie, who gestures at my glass. "Same, please." 

I concentrate down at my water, and Jillie scoots in closer. "You sure you're alright." 

I sigh heavily. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind." 

I see Jillie nod, and I respond with my own. I don't have much to say, and I wish I was better at small talk. 

No matter how much I try to push it back, my thoughts feel like clouds, nebulous and squishy. The more I try to pinpoint things, the more I sink into them. It's hard to escape when I know I have to see him next week, and I don't want things to fall flat by bringing it up.

Jillie pulls me out of my thoughts. "You think I'd--Do you think I'd do good on my own?" She leans into me on one elbow.

We share a look, and snort-laugh at the same time.

I smack her arm. "Hell no, Jills, you can't lead research to save your life. What brought that up?"

"I was talkin' to my mom yesterday and she was askin'. She thinks bein' your assistant is beneath me. But I told her!" She waves her arm, and her drink sloshes out onto the bartop. "I told her you were awesome! You're great at giving directions."

I sip at my water, my brow furrowing. I hate to be a buzzkill at this point, but we're two rounds in for this place, six drinks total since the start of the night, and if it doesn't come out now then I won't say it. "Not great at much else."

Jillie's head falls to the side. "Whaddya mean?"

I blow air through my lips, and rub my temple with my fingers. "Do you really think I did well today?" 

"Cass!" Jillie scoffs and snacks my arm. "You fuckin' killed it!"

I frown at my hands. "So what next?"

"Well," she starts ticking off on her fingers. "You need to kill the final review, which you will, and when you secure more funding you can add more plants, and then--"

"No," I cut her off. "No, I mean, like, what else is there?"

Jillie looks away, down at the bartop, then back to me. "I'm not following."

I groan, not at her, but because it's hard to vocalize when I have three shots still working their way through my system. "I'm boring! What else do I do?! I wake up, I go to work, I fall asleep."

She searches my face for a moment, and her brow furrows, sympathetic. "You've been a little too busy to do anything else, hon."

Automatically I open my mouth to disagree, but she's not wrong. In the weeks leading up to today, I've been averaging ten, twelve hours between the lab and the greenhouse.

"Yeah but what now?" 

Now that the plants are a little hardier, they don't need round the clock care and are actually outside, where they're meant to be. We still need to measure growth and take soil readings and everything else, but it's less rigorous. It won't take as much time. Normally, I'd take on another experiment to keep myself busy, but my mind is fried. I don't have the energy to put together another proposal, write a thesis, and present it in front of another committee for approval. 

I suppose I could add onto EVA, plant some winter vegetables before the frost starts to set in. That's a few months away, and it's much less work to tack onto an existing experiment than to bring in a new one.

But that still sounds like a lot of work, more presentations, more things to worry about. And I love this project. I don't want to overload myself to a point where I'll hate it by the end.

"You could, I dunno, find a new hobby?" Jillie suggests. 

I purse my lips, my head falling into my hand. "I don't know what I like, though."

She smiles. "That's the point! Get out there, figure it out! What do you think you'd be into?"

I think for a second, and lift my glass of water. "I like to drink."

Jillie smack my arm. "That's not a hobby!"

I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling.

"You like plants, yeah?"

I level a stare at her, lips pursed, and don't respond.

"How about something outdoors, then?"

I hum, weighing the options of picking up a new hobby. I have a tendency to fall into something for a few weeks then drop it forever when it doesn't stick. But getting outside of the Outpost sounds like fun. "Maybe," I settle on, nodding to her. "Maybe."

We finish our waters and head back to the dancefloor, and I'm caught up in the music before the first song ends.

***

As a whole group we migrate to the next bar down the line. A hole in the wall that isn't as nice with their pours, but the decor is pretty cool. It's half-bookstore in the front, with a small cutaway that leads to the bar. There's a small stage, currently occupied by a lovely looking man with a deep voice singing Our House on the karaoke machine. It's pretty packed in, but this bar is my favorite out of the three. The drinks may be watered down, but the vibes are mellow. There's a mix of people and ento here, and I can look at books I'll never read. 

My head is swimming after the last round, but the night is starting to wind down. I listen to the music for a bit, watching John and Billie slowly sway in each other's arms. My heart clenches again, so I tear my gaze away and towards the quieter section of the building--the bookshop.

It's closed at this point in the night, but they left it open for people to lounge. The store has free-standing bookshelves and cabinets, and after passing a few couches, I find Harper and Divi casually laying against one another towards the back. The room is still spinning, but it's dimly lit, thankfully not a strain on my eyes. I can already feel my head pounding tomorrow.

I give them both a short wave, making sure they recognize me. "Mind if I sit?"

Harper sits up, giving me enough room to sit down before she leans against me.

I fidget with my hands for a bit, the silence awkward but also comforting as I cast about for something to say. They were in the middle of a conversation when I approached, and I think I interrupted it. "How long have you two been together?"

Harper looks to Divi. "What is it, two years now?"

"The next full moon will make twenty-two months."

"Aw, you're so romantic." Harper taps Divi with one foot, and Divi gently places a hand over Harper's ankle and rubs softly. I don't mean to stare, but I'm not used to open PDA. Watching it fills me with longing, and a bit of jealousy.

"I wouldn't be if you knew how our calendar worked," Divi says evenly.

Harper scrunches her nose. "Then you will remain romantic. Do you have anyone?" Harper asks me, expression open and curious.

"Nah," I say, leaning back and kicking my feet up to the coffee table. The look Harper gives me is unconvinced, and I shrug helplessly. Alcohol tends to make me chatty, and I don't want to drag them into my own drama, but they did ask. "Okay, there's a guy at work."

"Human or ento?"

My face heats as I press my lips together. "Ento." I wave off her excited expression. "It's just a stupid crush anyway. I don't think he likes me."

Harper hums, lips pursed. "Don't be so sure, Cass. Has he done anything to show he may be interested?" 

I furrow my eyebrows. I want to tell them, but am I sharing too much? They would kind of be the best pair to offer a second opinion. Science is all about peer review. Or I could still be buzzed. "Well, we kind of went on a date-- a mutual errand, really-- to Igrien, but when I invited him back to my place, he said no."

Divi perks up, "Ah, I can explain that."

Harper rolls her eyes. "Inviting them to your place is basically a confession."

Divi comically deflates back into her seat. "It's a bit more complex than that," she mutters, pouting.

Harper grins and rolls her eyes, stage-whispering to me, "She's in sociology."

Divi pinches Harper's skin making her jump, and their paired laughter feels like a spear through my heart.

"So…I got rejected," I conclude.

"Not necessarily," Harper cuts in. "There's different rules for bringing someone home. If he assumed you knew about them, then…maybe."

"But I didn't," I pout.

"It is a complex question, as well," Divi adds. "Different cultures attribute different things to such rituals."

I lean forward, genuinely invested. We never got primed on any ento culture, and hearing it straight from the source is a chance I won't miss.

"For context," Divi says evenly. "Our courting rituals evolved from the fact that we're hermaphroditic. We bring mates into a nest and "fight"," she adds air quotes, "for our respective roles, which has evolved into many languages to express interest and preference. In today's society, it boils down to an elaborate dance of sorts to initiate a relationship."

"So inviting him in after a day out and he goes home?"

Divi makes a face akin to a cringe, "It truly depends on the individual and how they were raised. They could have easily taken you up on your offer but meant nothing of it, especially with you humans having different ideals. But in many cultures across the globe, inviting another in is a prelude to a serious relationship. Specifically, taking another to your sleeping quarters holds great significance."

"Yeah," Harper laughs. "Divi thought I knew that too, so the first time we go back to her place and I don't comment on her decor, she thought I was rejecting her."

"And I put so much work into making my home clean for you," Divi whinges, wiping away a fake tear.

Harper scoffs and jabs her with her foot. "I know that now!"

The two devolve into what feels like routine good-natured ribbing, and I'm left alone with my thoughts.

It makes sense why Kri would be mad at me, then. He's so proper and professional, of course he'd be grossed out by the idea of being with me. I wasn't consciously asking to have sex, but then again…I wasn't not asking for it. But why didn't he tell me? Reject me properly so I could move on. I've been trying to satiate myself at night on my own, ut I think it only made my feelings stronger. He could've at least extended the favor of me humiliating myself, he's always been efficient like that.

Watching the two of them, I wonder if that's what a relationship with Kri would look like. Not that I'll ever figure that out.

Pulling me back in, Divi tells me more about ento cultures, thankfully wading away from my particular predicament. I like hearing that certain gifts mean certain things, that certain ento cultures still make nests in trees for their mates, and that Igrien has gorgeous theaters that I should definitely check out. It's enough conversation that Jillie comes by and sits on the floor, letting me play with her hair until the bar closes.

Jillie's apartment is closer than mine, and we stumble our way through goodbyes and promises to meet up within the next week. We make it back without issue, and Jillie crashes into her bed before I can make it to the couch.

My head is swimming, less with the alcohol, and more with thoughts. I'm upset, upset that I had to learn all this information about ento rituals secondhand, in hindsight, without context. I wish that I had done it differently, maybe not invited him at all, had made more friends before this so maybe they could've warned me beforehand.

But eventually sleep pulls me under, warm and inviting where my mind is kept cold and disgruntled.

Chapter 11 >>

[yeahimwiththeband]

undefined

with the band chapter 17

i know if i go

warning: italy, standing up for yourself, new year’s eve makeout hookup?

A/N: after izzy runs into harry in sicily, she invites him back to her hostel for a nye party. he makes her an offer she doesn’t expect. previous chapter here

word count: 2.8k

The hostel reminded her of the co-op in Austin: set in a lush garden, it was full of people her age and smelled like lemon zest. Its floor was terracotta and the walls were cracked tile, with leaning, thrifted bookcases lining the courtyard under a walkway. Olivia, Meg, and Izzy just had enough time to shower and throw on the one going out fit scrunched at the bottom of their bags. Izzy brought out her green dress; Meg wore flip flops with shorts and a metallic crop top, and Olivia floated around in a gauzy tulle thing over a t-shirt and shorts.  Izzy couldn’t get the dust of her sneakers—she made them walk back, declining a ride with Harry’s driver, and they had collapsed in a corner of the courtyard, watching the other backpackers mill around. She wondered if Jess was here, in Italy; she tried to push the thought out of her mind. On Insta, Harry and Jess were still very much together—so many strategic little public comments. Some sounded like Ryan, some sounded like authentic Jess and Harry. Izzy shook it off—it was out of her control, and she had made a new life for herself. She was so happy she left LA. 

The hostel’s bar was pouring shots for 3 euro each. It was already around 10 PM; the sky was clear and bright with stars, and the walls of the courtyard were cool against their backs. Through the gateway at the end of the courtyard, Izzy could see through to the patchy garden, with a thick clover lawn dotted with huge peony bushes and mimosa trees, dangling clusters of gold. She felt relaxed. She was wearing what she wanted to wear, with people she could be honest with. She wasn’t trying to fit in at a party where she didn’t belong anymore. Here, she could just be herself. Her heart trembled at the sound of a vespa outside, but it whipped past without stopping. Harry wasn’t here yet. 

Izzy remembered the last special occasion party she went to: that pretentious thing at The Frick with George and all his boujee private school friends, who were trying to warn her about him. Izzy exhaled. She felt so happy, in that moment, that she had left the tour and there was now an entire ocean between her and George.

“Limoncello,” Meg said, placing tiny glasses the size of a thimble in Izzy and Olivia’s hands. The golden mimosa buds were spilling in from the yard on the wind, racing across the floor and blowing into their hair.

“We have a long way to go if this is what we’re drinking all night,” Olivia said.

“We’re celebrating! To Italy and this trip,” Meg said. They all clinked glasses, took a sip, and Izzy instantly smiled: it tasted like Italy felt, like summer, bright and sweet and a little biting, so far. Meg wrinkled her nose: “It’s like drinking sugar.” She returned to the bar, while Olivia leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to the guitarist strumming from the corner, a Swede 18 or 19 who had picked up one of the hostel’s guitars. Izzy tried to focus on him, listening intently. She had to stop checking the doorway for Harry. She had to stop imagining kissing him at midnight. The countdown, the lean in, firecracker sparks and yellow flowers flying around them...

“Now, grappa!” Meg was back already, with three shot glasses. Izzy’s carefully lowered her little goblet of limoncello to her feet.

“What’s grappa?” Olivia asked, peering at the almost-black liquid. A few of the backpackers had started to dance by the bar.

“It’s like wine, but more. You know?” Izzy could hear that Meg was drunk. She also sounded happy. Looking at her friend’s flushed and smiling face, Izzy could only feel relief - she had been such a bad friend on the tour, and felt like she was finally paying Meg back. Izzy flashed on the night Meg packed her bags, the way she sounded when Izzy said she wasn’t going home.

“So…” Olivia started, exchanging a glance with Meg. “I guess Harry should get here pretty soon, right?

“Alla nostra!” Izzy said, grabbing her glass. She threw it all back and then instantly spat it out, narrowly missing.

“Mama mia,” Olivia said. Her eyes were scrunched closed and she pinched her nose. She had only taken a small sip, but it made her sinuses burn.

“Oh my god,” Meg said.

“I’m dying,” Izzy said. Italian swear words she had heard her mom mutter throughout her childhood tumbled out of her mouth: it was like drinking paint.

“You’re not supposed to shot it like that,” said someone pretentious. Izzy felt someone take the glass out of her hand and press a napkin in in its place.

Izzy unscrunched her eyes to see Harry, t shirt on, leather jacket slung over his shoulder, smiling and trying not to.

“Please don’t laugh at me,” Izzy said.

“Never,” Harry replied.

Izzy picked up her Limoncello. Olivia and Meg had disappeared. She and Harry were alone in a corner

“Thanks for coming,” Izzy said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t—that other party,  you won’t be sad to—“

“I’m sure,” Harry said. He checked over his shoulder, a reflex. Izzy looked too—no one here seemed to recognize him. They were safe.

“Doesn’t this place remind you of the co-op?” He asked. “The one in Austin?”

“Yes,” Izzy said. Golden blooms flew around them.

Izzy told Harry more about the house and the garden and he leaned in to listen, rapt, nodding almost constantly. Oh god, what was he actually doing here? After she stalked him?

“You must think I’m stalking you,” Izzy said. She could never keep a filter on around him.

“I thought you’d think that of me,” Harry replied, laughing a bit. “I saw the house—we drove past your house on the way here. You have more claim to this place than I do.”

“You’re just going to cede all this territory?”

“Yes,” Harry said, “I’m clearly on your turf. ‘M not even slightly Italian.”

“I feel bad for you,” Izzy joked. Harry smiled.

Izzy was about to start in on more small talk - she had only started to tell him about her apartment with Olivia back at his house, and she could go through the curricula of her horticulture classes - when Harry cut her off. “Want to dance, Izzy?” Izzy threw back the rest of her limoncello, sugar biting the back of her throat, and followed him through the little doorway at the end of the courtyard outside. You could just hear the guitar from out there.

Harry put his right hand on Izzy’s waist and paused, like the wind was knocked out of him. Izzy put her hand on his shoulder. He seemed to get a grip of himself, she put her other hand in his.

Just then, Izzy heard a familiar song. I got my red dress on tonight, dancing in the dark… They started moving easily, just like they did in the arena the night he first taught Izzy how to dance. So she could go dance with George.

She heard that voice echo in her mind: I love teaching you to dance so you can dance with other men.

“I asked him to play it before I said hello to you,” Harry said sheepishly.

“Harry, what are you actually doing here?” He spun her away from him and then pulled her back closer.

“You were gone when I got back.”

Izzy didn’t know he came back for her. “I texted you. You didn’t return any of my messages.”

“I was—there was a lot going on. A lot of shit. I was trying to protect you,” he offered.

The words just flew out of her: “Thank you for trying to be soft handed with me, but I’m not a kid - you don’t have to hide things from me.”

“I’m sorry I did that,” Harry said.

“I waited for you, for a long time. It felt like forever. You left me there. You left me there in the arena.”

“You left the tour.”

think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky

“I was scared. It wasn’t just Tara. It was you,” Izzy said. The truth.

Harry nodded.

“You and Jess…” Izzy started.

“There’s no me and Jess, Izzy,” Harry said firmly. “It’s all just for the tour. Ryan’s idea.”

“I don’t think it’s fake for her,” Izzy persisted.

“Nothing’s ever happened between us. Nothing.”

“I think she’s in love with you, Harry.”

Just then, Izzy heard a familiar voice gasp. She looked up, to see Meg and Olivia at the hostel’s second floor balcony, looking down at them. Or at least Meg was, until her head whipped around like she had seen a ghost and the two disappeared back into the hostel.

“The deal is that it goes until the summer—that’s how I got them off the tour for a few months at least, that was the trade I made with Ryan.”

“I didn’t know that. That does sound like something he would insist on, he’s so obsessed with social.”

“And I’m sorry about those stupid fucking photos. I was—I interfered, and—“

“No, you were right. You were right. You knew George, and it would have been better for me to be off the tour than with him. I wish you would have just told me about him, there was so much I didn’t know—“

“Would you have believed me? You would have just thought I was jealous.”

“That’s fair. I mean, I had no idea that you feel… That you felt that way.”

The past tense landed like an anvil between them.

Harry’s phone buzzed; someone was calling him. He silenced it, then put his arms around her again.

“Do you remember it, like I remember it?” Harry said, looking at his feet. They started moving easily, just like they did in the arena the night he first taught Izzy how to dance. She remembered the confetti falling around them.

Izzy nodded. Their faces were close; his hair brushed her forehead.

“Izzy. Come back on tour with me. George and Lydia are only joining for some of the dates—they won’t bother us, and I’m sure they won’t last that long, anyway.”

Harry’s eyes searched hers. A little supercut of the tour played across them in Izzy’s mind: Listening to Harry from the side of the stage with Meg, lying under the stage with Olivia, sitting on the stage after the show with Harry and Elijah, Jess and Lydia and George laughing together in the back room, lying in the grass with Harry at the co-op, playing guitar with Tara in the green room, Harry comforting Lydia, flashbulbs breaking through her window, Tara coughing up blood from the floor at that party. The reel glitched on those images and played them over and over: Tara on the floor, Tara on the floor, Lydia and George, Lydia and George.

Harry’s phone buzzed again. He silenced it again, waiting for her reply. “Izzy? It could be whatever you want. The secret girlfriend. Seamstress for the band?”

And there it was: Izzy felt her anxiety rushing back in, filling a cavern inside her that had been empty and maybe just waiting for it to come back. Harry was trying to be playful, but Izzy winced. He was waiting for her answer and she couldn’t stall. Her heart raced: she saw her self in Australia with Harry, Paris, London, Warsaw, Spain. She saw herself watching Harry and Jess faking a relationship for clout. She saw herself awkwardly avoiding George and Lydia. Suddenly, that last one eclipsed all the other things. She felt her heart start racing. “It ends in… July?”

“We’re in California for January, and then we wrap back here in Italy in July.”

“Back in LA.”

“Just for January.”

Harry’s words raced through her mind: seamstress for the band. She would be back in Los Angeles again, the city where George was recording, for almost a month. Izzy exhaled. She wouldn’t let anxiety make this decision. She tried to think: what do I actually want? Do I want to go back on the tour, or do I want to keep living with Olivia, go to classes, and work on what I’ve been building? She wanted to tell Harry more of the truth—they still weren’t saying everything. 

“You didn’t want to be with me… over the holidays, when I was texting you,” Izzy stammered. “You left me on read for weeks. But you want me on the tour.”

“I thought you hated me. I was sure you hated me. It was only when I heard you were here, that I thought…”

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

His eyes widened. He pulled her hand up onto his chest—his heart was racing, too, tapping her fingertips.

“Not anymore?” He said. Izzy wanted to make a decision based on what she wanted, not what she was afraid of. 

Izzy leaned in and kissed him, soft lips crushing into hers just like she remembered. He put his other hand up to her face, fingertips in her hair, dragging his thumb along her cheek. A flower had caught in his hair. 

Harry kissed her cheek, then her neck. He wound his arms around her waist and crushed her against him, pressing his lips to hers again.

“Izzy.”

“Harry.”  

Izzy wanted to go with him, so badly. So badly. She pulled away and looked at Harry. Jess’s words echoed in her mind: You’re back on your bullshit, living for other people. 

“I want you to come and find me in July,” Izzy said. Harry’s face furrowed—anger flashed across it, just like it had before.

“I thought you were coming back with me now. Eddie, Elijah—they’re all excited to see you, they all know you’re coming with me. We leave Saturday. Everything’s set.”

Izzy stepped back from him. “I don’t think I can watch you fake it with Jess.” The words she was saying felt like they were coming out of another person’s mouth. The person who enrolled in the classes, the person who got her own apartment, the person who didn’t want to be the secret girlfriend; Izzy felt, for a moment, that this was a separate person than who she actually was—she was desperate to be with Harry again.

Harry’s phone buzzed again. He silenced it again.

“Wait…” Izzy said. Her hand dropped from his chest. “How did you know that I was here?”

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Lydia. Lydia told me.”

More secrets and lies, Izzy thought. She was left out again, not knowing what was going on—just like she had been with Lydia and George, and Harry and Jess. She felt like a kid at a grown up party again. 

“I don’t want to keep things from you,” Harry said, reading her look. “I’m just trying not to hurt you. I have been trying to talk sense into Lydia. I told her about George’s debt, just like I told you—she didn’t know how bad it was. How bad it still is.”

“I want to be with you,” Izzy said. Harry smiled. 

“Me too, Izzy. That’s all I want.” They were so close, Izzy thought. So close to everything being perfect. 

“When the fake relationship is over. When George and Lydia aren’t there—I’m sure I’ll be fine with all of it, in time, but I honestly can’t deal with them at all right now. Just even hearing anything about them, it’s too much…”

“I’m on the road alone for seven months and then see if you’re still around? That’s what you want?”

“It’s not that I want it, it’s just what I think I can tolerate.”

“Seven months away from you? Izzy, I don’t know if I can.”  

Noise from the courtyard broke in: it was almost midnight and the backpackers had crowded around the bar to count down. They were shouting: 20, 19... 

His phone buzzed again. “Bloody hell,” he said. He finally took it out of his pocket and checked who it was. He scrolled through a few messages, color draining from his face.

“Izzy, I… are Meg and Olivia still around? You’re not alone ‘ere, right?”

“They’re here. You’re here.”

Just then, Meg called over from the courtyard. “Did you tell her already?” Meg asked Harry.

10, 9...

“Tell me what?” Izzy asked, sharply. She felt like she was on the outside again. Meg walked over and put her hand on Izzy’s shoulder. Olivia followed, and tilted her phone toward her.

It was a news headline in The Daily Mail. George and Lydia were engaged. Rock god, whirlwind romance, fashion icon jumped out from the screen.

Izzy closed her eyes then opened them again. She was hoping that the headline would have disappeared. But it was still there, and more were popping up after it. They were planning to elope. They were already in Vegas, or maybe they were already married—some articles said Vegas, some said California. Harry said something, but Izzy couldn’t hear him.

Meg gently pushed the phone away. “You dodged a bullet,” she said.

“So it could hit Lydia,” Izzy replied.

3, 2...

“I’ll go,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her cheek and stepped away to answer the phone. Izzy grabbed for the phone again and saw a stream of photos: Lydia smiling deliriously, George smirking at the camera, a huge emerald ring.

Happy New Year!

“What am I supposed to do?” Izzy asked no one. “Do I go back on the tour? How can I help her?”

“You can’t. This is her choice,” Olivia said.

“Stupid choice,” Meg added.

Olivia sat down in an old iron chair leaning against the wall and extended another glass of limoncello to Izzy, who gulped it down.

“He knows about the insurance payout, doesn’t he?” Meg asked. Izzy swore under her breath. She hadn’t even considered that.

“Insurance payout?” Olivia asked.

“He’s drowning in debt, and Lydia got a payout when her mom died. I don’t think she’s actually touched much of it.”

“How can we help her?” Izzy asked. “Before you suggest it, I’m not going back on the tour so I can watch her and George together and maybe get poisoned by Jess.” Olivia laughed.

“I think you have to do what would make you happiest, not what would fix Lydia. You’ve done a lot over the last three months,” Meg said.

“What are you going to do, Izzy?”

Izzy looked around for Harry, but he was gone.

next chapter

[umichenginabroad]

Week 3: Pompeii, the Mafia, & Lemons

Hi everyone! While these three things seem to have nothing in common, they are all topics I enjoyed learning about this week in class and on tours.

I had my first field trip in my History of the Mafia class to Naples. We took the train and met our professor at the Napoli Garibaldi Square. There he told us about how in the past the mafia used this square to sell counterfeit items and the benefits from doing so. From there, we walked along a district in Naples that was dominated by the Camorra mafia clan in the past. We got to see some historical sites including the churches were some of the mafiosos (men in the mafia) would hide their smuggled goods such as cigarettes.

The next day, my friends and I participated in a gelato making class through Sant'Anna. It was at a family owned gelato showed called Gelateria David. Their staff walked us through the step by step process of making gelato and the differences between cream and sorbet gelato. We made a lemon sorbet gelato and it was delicious!

The next day we finally made the trip to see Pompeii! I was pretty excited to see Pompeii as it is famous for its ruins and rich history. I bought the entrance tickets online, but you can also buy them on site. Also for all my dual citizens out there, there is a discount for those with a European Union passport. To get to Pompeii we took the commuter train which stopped a short distance away from the ruins. While it is possible to get a guided tour, my friends and I decided to use the Rick Steves Audio Guide App that you can download on your phone. I would recommend this to anyone who is looking for a cheaper option that still gives a lot of information!

It was fascinating to see how well preserved some of the frescos were and to get a glimpse of what life was like in those ancient times. Also if you walk 10 minutes away from the center of the ruins, you can see the large amphitheater that once stood in Pompeii. It was so cool to see how large the building is and wonder how they were able to build it during those times.

And of course we had to take a picture repping UofM! GO BLUE!

As Sorrento is famous for its lemons, we took the opportunity during the weekend to go on a Lemon Tour in a villa called Villa Beatrice. This is a family owned lemon four located outside the city of Sorrento. It costs around 36 euro per person and included the tour, limoncello tastings, and some apertif snacks.

The villa is a bit far away from where San'Anna is located, but the staff offered to pick us up at a plaza in the city. Our tour guide was so nice and was very knowledgable about the process of making Limoncello and the history of Sorrento. We got to hear about what Sorrento was like in the past, as he grew up in a farm just a few blocks up the mountain. We even learned about the process of grafting the branch of lemon trees to the trunk of orange trees (the picture with a branch covered in plastic depicts this!).

Overall, it was a lovely experience and by far one of my favorite things that I have done since I have been here. We also met a Michigan Alumni who just graduated in our tour group!

Next weekend I will be going to Venice, so I can't wait to share with you my experiences! Ciao!

Josefia Frydenborg

Environmental Engineering

Engineering in Sorrento

[illicitlimerence-writes]

princess peach | d. ricciardo

pairing: dad!daniel ricciardo x mom!reader word count: 2.2k words request: yes, by an anon: “soooooo we need a baby ric #2 announcement fic now dont we??? its onyl right.”prompt: running around barefoot + fresh fruits from this prompt list. warnings: fluff, kids, pregnancy, my dream of living on a big farm, language. a/n: i swear to god, at least one of y’all better get my ‘rugrats’ reference bc otherwise imma feel old. also, in this fic this whole mclaren fiasco isn’t happening. just because. danny boy needs a break.

my masterlist / summer of love masterlist / this is a part two of ‘baby ric’

“you want this one?” you asked, looking at henry as he inspected the yellow lemon. he nodded, “okay, give me your hand,” you grabbed his little hand, wrapping it around the fruit, you helped him tug until it separated from the branch. he squealed in surprise, and you laughed, kissing his temple. “great job, henry! can you help me put it in the basket?” you pointed at it, and your little boy tossed it in. “good boy, my love. now let’s get three more.” you instructed, even though you knew he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying, he was only one year old.

now that you finally had some free time, you traveled to the other side of the world, to the farm you’d been working on for years to build and grow. daniel loved america, and he loved spending his time off there, to disconnect from everything and bask in the silence, it was only natural that you decided to buy some land there and build the perfect getaway. the texas heat was unforgiving, but that day was one of the good ones, it was sunny and hot, but not too much.

as usual, henry was sporting a bucket hat. his collection started growing since his first -and only- visit to the f1 paddock, the other drivers, -the younger ones, specially- started gifting henry little hats from their own merch collections. that day’s hat was flower themed.

after picking up the lemons you moved on to the apple tree. it had huge roots and large branches, the leaves gave the spot the perfect amount of shade, which made it the perfect place to sit down and just enjoy the day.

“i think these might be too tall for us, mister,” you said as you stared at the three, holding henry’s hand as he took a few steps around you. since he started walking about two months ago you had to have your eyes on him at all times, “what do you say we go find daddy?” as he heard that last word he looked up at you, making you laugh, “you like that idea?” you asked, turning around so you could walk back to the house. you looked down at henry, watching his little chubby legs on the green grass. he didn’t have shoes on, because he loved feeling the different textures as he walked, his favorite was the wooden floors of the house there in the farm. “babe?” you called as you entered, placing the basket by the door. “call for daddy,” you told henry.

“da!” henry repeated. you let go of his hand, letting him walk wherever he wanted to as you followed him. “da, da,” he kept talking. since the first time he said it, it became his favorite word.

“i hear my mini man,” you turned to the side, watching daniel walking down the stairs that led to the second floor. he walked to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned into his side. it took henry one second to waddle to you, raising his arms, wanting to be picked up. you started leaning down when dan stopped you, “careful, i’ve got him,” he grabbed henry in his arms, kissing his cheek.

“i’m okay, you know? i’m pregnant, not sick or something,” you said, running your fingers through henry’s hair,

“still, you already do so much for us, you deserve a break.”

“i don’t need a break, i need your help getting apples from the tree, don’t we, henry?” you said, grabbing dan’s hand and leading him outside, grabbing the basket on your way out.

once you got back to the tree, henry started extending his arms, ready to pick the apples he wanted. you sat against the trunk of the tree, watching them toss the fruit into the basket.

“i didn’t mean to upset you,” daniel said, sitting in front of you, as henry played with the fruits he’d collected.

“you didn’t. i know you’re looking out for me, but you’re worse than you were when i was pregnant with henry,” you raised an eyebrow, a soft smile on your face. “i am still me, i can pick up my child if he needs me,” you said, and watched him open his mouth to speak, “she’s perfectly fine, she’s safe, i can still bend down, tie my shoes, play with henry. i’m six months pregnant, not eight and a half.”

“i just… i want you, all of you to be okay.”

“i know, and i love that you worry and care so much about us, but it’s all gonna be okay. we’ll be alright.” you leaned forward, lifting a hand to his cheek and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“i’m sorry,” he started, but you shook your head.

“no need. how about… you make it up to me by playing with your son, who’s missed you so much all week,” you grabbed henry by his middle and placed him in daniel’s arms, “while i go and was this up, make some lemonade, and cut these apples up,” it wasn’t much of a question, seeing as you stood up with the basket in your arms and started walking away as they got up.

through the kitchen window, you spotted them. daniel passed a plastic ball to henry, who tried to kick it, but lost his balance and fell on his bum. you paused cutting the apples, watching as henry started crying, but daniel helped him up, hugged him, and they started playing with the ball again. soon enough their loud chuckles invaded the whole farm.

-

after playing the entire afternoon, the three of you sat against the big apple tree. the shade was just perfect there, and the wind had started picking up. henry was currently holding your phone, too close to his face, daniel’s parents on the other side of the screen as they talked to their grandson. you laughed as dan took your phone from henry, moving it away from his face so he could see them, and so they could see something other than henry’s nose. 

“somebody needs a diaper change,” dan said, noticing your baby boy’s focused face and his small frown. 

“your turn, dad,” you said, he chuckled. after saying goodbye to his parents, your boys left you for a few minutes, coming back with two glasses of lemonade, and a sippy cup for henry. 

“for you, my lady,” dan said, handing you one cup.

“thank you, love,” you smiled. you took a sip, and a few seconds later felt something weird in your belly. “looks like someone likes lemonade,” you placed a hand on your stomach, rubbing it, “come on, girl,” you whispered, wanting to feel her little kicks again.

“she’s kicking?” daniel asked, his eyes bright. you nodded, grabbing his hand and placing it where you felt her movements. “drink some more,” he suggested. after taking another sip you felt it again. “she’s got some powerful legs,” he laughed, you nodded. “come here, henry, feel this,” your baby boy stared at your hands, of course, he had no idea what was happening. 

“look, henry, it’s your sister.” you said as daniel pressed henry’s hand on your belly. you drank some more lemonade, and henry looked at you both once his sister started moving. “say hi,” 

“da,” henry said, making you laugh.

“say ‘hi, sis’,” daniel tried again.

“sis,” henry repeated. you gasped, since he started talking the only word he’d actually repeat was ‘da’. he’d make other noises, but when asked to talk, he’d just babble or say ‘da’. 

“say that again,” you said, opening your camera app and starting recording. “say ‘hi sis’,”

“sis,” he said again, and this time you let out a loud squeal of joy.

“that was so good, henry!” daniel said, lifting him in his arms and kissing his cheek. “that’s your sister right there,” he said, placing henry’s hand back on your belly. “you two are gonna be the best of friends, i can already tell,” he continued speaking softly, you adjusted the camera to capture henry’s wide eyes as he felt his sister kicking, daniel’s bright smile, and the texas sunset of that august day. 

“i must say i’m loving the attention,” you laughed, their hands on your belly felt warm, daniel was drawing invisible shapes as henry moved his hands wherever he felt the baby’s kicks.

“you deserve all of the attention, my love. your doing the most marvelous thing right now. i promise you, these next weeks we’re doing anything you want. whatever you feel like doing,”

“i just want to spend time with you. soon enough we won’t outnumber the kids in our house, i want to enjoy these weeks being just us three.”

-

the next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. neither dan nor henry were inside the house. you took a quick shower, figuring they must be outside, playing. once you changed into a large, flowy dress and skipped the shoes, you stepped outside. you walked to the area where you had all of the fruit trees and where the vegetables were growing, but they weren’t there, either. you grabbed your phone, calling daniel.

he didn’t pick up, didn’t need to, you heard the ringtone nearby. you walked that way, seeing them sitting a few meters away from the creek.

“good morning, you two,” you said as you walked to them, avoiding the muddy spots.

“da!” henry yelled as he saw you, you sat next to them, kissing henry’s cheek.

“what were you doing?” you asked, helping henry climb onto your lap.

“we picked up some peaches, came down here to wash them. he liked them,” dan smiled, you ran your hand through his hair, “we saved you some,” he pointed to the same basket you’d used yesterday, inside there sat some peaches and an apple.

“thank you,” you smiled, “this little miss and i are hungry, we skipped breakfast to come look for you boys,”

“aw, sweets,” daniel said, you shrugged. “henry and i were going to play tag for a bit, care to join us?” he asked, you shook your head.

“you boys go ahead, i’ll stay here a bit, yeah?” you passed henry to daniel, who leaned forward to kiss you. henry had enough of it, splitting the two of you apart, which made you laugh. “okay, mister. no need to be rude, you can go now.” you grabbed henry’s hand, and moved so he tapped daniel’s shoulder, “you’re it, dad. run, henry, go!” you cheered for your boy, who ran to the other side of the field, his bare feet guiding him away from his father, who chased after him. 

you grabbed one of the peaches from the basket, taking a small bite. the baby liked it. you smiled as you grabbed your phone, taking a picture of the peach in your hand, and your belly.

you uploaded the picture to your instagram, which was filled with pictures of henry.

‘princess peach’ you captioned it. 

the world knew you were pregnant, you’d been with daniel for the last race before break, in budapest, and you knew it was inevitable for pictures to come out. now they knew that you were having a baby girl coming in a few months.

-

after eating some of the fruit your had picked out for you, you lay down on the grass, looking up at the sky. it was so blue, and the clouds were so white, it was almost unreal. 

“da, da,” you heard henry, you lifted your head, looking around for him. 

“look what we found,” daniel said, helping you sit up. he handed something to henry, you extended your hand, and henry handed you a flower. 

“oh, it’s so pretty! look, henry, it matches your shirt!” he was wearing a yellow button-up shirt, “here,” you placed the stem inside the little pocket, the petals sticking out. “you look so handsome, my darling boy.” you kissed his cheek, lying back down on the grass, placing henry next to you. 

“what were you doing?” daniel asked as he imitated your position.

“finding shapes in the clouds,” you chuckled. “wanna play?” you asked, looking to your side, and noticed henry was falling asleep.

“the best one wins,”

“loser is on diaper duty for a week,” you grinned, raising your eyebrows.

“oh, it’s on. he ate so many peaches today, i do not want to clean that up,” you chuckled, and nodded. henry rolled to his side, and daniel placed him on top of him, moving so he was pressed up next to you. “that’s a dragon,” he pointed up to the sky, you nodded. looking around to look for another one.

“starting off strong, i like it. let’s see if you can keep it up,” you smirked, already spotting the perfect one. “that’s reptar.” you pointed to the dinosaur from one of your favorite childhood cartoons.

“holy shit,” dan said after a few seconds, spotting it. “it’s identical.”

“i know. can you beat that?”

you spent about fifteen minutes waiting for daniel to find something better than yours. 

“have fun changing diapers, daddy. princess peach and i appreciate it,” you chuckled as you pecked his lips. 

-

@idkiwantchocolatee @yeolsbubbles

[fireworkss-exe]

Prompt 9 Billy Lenz/gn!reader 🥺

9. "Great! It's a date?"

warning: Billy calls you "pretty piggy"

You had something of a complex.

The moment you realized there was a squatter living in your attic, your first thought wasn't to panic and call the cops. It was to investigate and find out exactly why this man acted the way he did- no matter what happened to you in the process. You were a therapist, after all- it was literally your job to unearth people's problems.

For the most part, things had worked out in your favor- Billy (that's what he called himself) may have been quite the handful, but you could tell he had a soft heart underneath his shell of instability. Even if he occasionally bit you or stole your personal belongings, Billy trusted you more than anyone else.

Of course, you couldn't tell your flatmates about any of this. You'd grown far too attached to Billy, and if anyone found out about your situation... Well, you didn't even want to consider the consequences...

...

Summer had finally fallen upon your home. The air was warmer than it had ever been, and you found yourself having to forgo the sweaters you preferred to wear most of the time. The trees outside your bedroom window had lost their spring blossoms, and the foliage was entirely green. Despite the carefree laughter of the kids down the street, you couldn't help but worry about Billy. You knew from experience that the attic could get unbearably hot during the warmer months, but you had no idea where else he could go when your roommates were around. Tonight, though, they were away from the house, so...

An idea came to you, and you padded over to your desk. You picked your lemon-yellow phone up from its receiver, held it up to your ear, and dialed the number of your house's second phone. Now all you had to do was wait.

"Hello? Hello?" came a voice over the phone. It was Billy.

"Hi, Billy," you greeted. "It's me."

Immediately, you were met with joyous giggles from the other end. "Pretty piggy! Billy's so happy you called! Billy misses you, when are you going to see him again?"

You watched the children outside. They were splashing in puddles from last night's storm- a storm that had shaken Billy so badly, you had to crawl into the attic and hold him for hours to comfort him.

"Actually, that's what I was calling about," you replied. "Do you want to come to the backyard with me for a bit? It's really nice out, and I bought some more food earlier today. We could have dinner."

Billy didn't respond. Over the past few months, you still hadn't managed to acclimate him to the outside world, but he had gone to the backyard with you a handful of times. However, those visits had only been for a few minutes, half an hour at most, and Billy tended to disappear into the attic for hours afterwards. You silently worried if your plan for tonight would put him ill at ease.

Suddenly, you were met with another round of giddy laughter. "Billy would love to!"

"Great! It's a date?" you confirmed, relief washing over you.

"Yes! It's a date!"

You had to admit that you were making progress on helping this oddly lovable little man.

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Little Traditions - 2

Little Traditions: A Sam Wilson Fanfic

Little Traditions Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:   1878

Warnings: Nothing.

Synopsis: Since the blip and Steve Rogers giving up the mantle of Captain America, Sam’s life has been chaotic.  It’s not enough that the world has moved on in the five years he’d gone, and that he’d missed so much, now he has to live with everything it means to be Captain America.  He feels like he’s losing all the things that make him him.  A venture to the supermarket to recreate one of his parents famous recipes brings him to you.

A/N: There are images in this with text messages.  You need them for the story.  If you can’t see them, let me know and I’ll provide you with an alt text.

Chapter 2

“We have a lime tree out the back, you know?”

Sarah's voice cut through Sam’s reverie, making him look up from his pile of ingredients with his brow furrowed.

He'd come back from the store with all his ingredients and decided he’d try to play around with them, tasting them and smelling them to see if any triggered that special part of his brain that was connected with memory.

He hadn’t noticed Sarah and Bucky come in, and as he looked up now the smirk on Bucky’s face told him they’d been watching him for a while.

Sam ignored it.  Sometimes it was just best to ignore Bucky rather than start shit.  “What do you mean we have a lime tree?” Sam asked.  “I’ve never seen a lime tree.”

“They’re weird,” Sarah answered, putting the lime back on the kitchen bench.  “I think they’re called finger limes?  Mom said they were given a tree or a sapling as a wedding present.  They’re … strange.  Follow me.  I’ll show you.”

“Yeah, Sam, go see the weird limes,” Bucky said.

“What the hell is going on with you, Barnes?  Are you getting a little stir-crazy?  Do I need to call our mutual friend?” Sam snarked.

Bucky made a ‘yap, yap’ sign with his hand and rolled his eyes as Sam pushed past him, following Sarah outside.  Sarah led him to what was more of a tangled shrub than a tree.  It looked like the kind of plant that took hold when you didn’t want it to, rather than one that was intentionally planted.  It was about his height, with branches poking off in every direction that had tiny leaves sprouting all the way down the length.  Growing all over the tree with no rhyme or reason were fruit that looked more like fat black and green beans than limes. The only thing that gave away that they might even be citrus was the texture of the skin.

“These are supposed to be limes?” Sam said, picking one of the fruits from the tree.

“That’s what mom said,” she replied.  “They’re weird, but they taste kind of halfway between lemon and lime.  I use them sometimes.  Look at this.”  She picked one and broke it in half.  The insides spilled out of it like they’d been vacuum sealed inside, and far from looking like citrus, they resembled caviar.  It was even the same pink that salmon roe was.

“What the hell?” Sam said, stepping back away from Sarah.  “I love you, Sarah, but if you think that I’m going to believe that that’s a lime, you’re out of your damn mind.”

“Taste it,” she said, holding it toward him.

“This is the most elaborate prank you’ve ever pulled,” he said. “I’m not tasting it.”

“It’s a lime, Samuel,” she snarked.  “Taste it.”

“You taste it,” he said.

“I don’t want to taste it. It’s a lime.  I don’t go around biting into lemons either,” she deadpanned.

Sam narrowed his eyes at her.  He wouldn’t put it past her to create such an elaborate prank to get him to eat something disgusting, but he would have thought it would take a lot more planning than just finding him with some limes he’d already purchased.  He tentatively reached forward and swiped some of the pale pink pearls onto his finger and very hesitantly lifted them to his mouth.  He kept watching Sarah’s face for a hint that this was going to end up going badly for him.  He sniffed it first and when it smelt the way a lime should smell he slowly stuck out his tongue and let the pearls stick to the tip.

The flavor was subtle, and somewhere between lemon and lime.  It wasn’t until he was brave enough to push the beads against his palate that he was hit with a strong feeling of nostalgia.  They burst against his tongue, releasing a strong citrus pop.

This was it.  This was his dad’s secret ingredient.  When you ate the crawfish, you’d be hit by little bursts of lime all the way through.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“Told you,” Sarah said.

“No, Sarah,” he said, excitedly.  “You don’t understand.  This is it!  This is dad’s secret ingredient.”

He started picking limes as Sarah looked on bemused.  “You’re ridiculous, you know?”

“Tell me how ridiculous I am after I’ve cooked,” he said.  He stopped and looked at her.  “Thank you, Sarah. Seriously.  I think this was going to make me go crazy.”

“Why’s this so important to you anyway?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “With everything that’s happened, and keeps happening - I guess I thought I was going to lose this part of my life.  You were so adamant about selling the boat - and there’s the whole Captain America shit.  I guess it’s just occurred to me how much I’ve lost and how a lot of that doesn’t need to be lost.  We can still do the crawfish boil, just like mom and dad did.  I loved doing that as a kid.”

Sarah rubbed his arm.  “You’re an old sap, you know?”

He chuckled.  “Yeah, it turns out I am.  Who’d have thought?” 

Sam took the limes inside and pulled out his phone.

Sam stared at his phone for a moment, in complete shock.  The fact his parents would have been given such an unlikely gift from someone was perplexing, to say the least.  He shook his head to clear it.

The three little dots that indicated you were typing flickered and stopped and flickered again.

There wasn’t enough there to account for the amount of time those dots had flickered and he wondered what you’d typed out and then deleted again.

There was a pause for a moment and those dots flickered and stopped again.  Sam could tell what you were worried about.  Showing up at the house of a strange man after meeting him at the supermarket would be dangerous for any woman.  He should have asked you out on a date first. Somewhere neutral and public, where the two of you could take your time to get to know each other.

Sam was not afraid to use his position as an Avenger and Captain America to help sway people’s opinions of him.  He wasn’t above getting a free cup of coffee or using it to convince people to do something they might be on the fence about.  Why not?  He was a good guy.  He wouldn’t get people to do things that would harm them, and if it meant he got a free meal, well - he risked his life to save the world for no pay, maybe he was due a free meal.

But he couldn’t throw the Captain America card out there now.  It would seem more threatening than anything else.  He hoped you might come there on your own accord.

The dots appeared again.

After Sam sent you the address, he looked up to see Bucky watching him.  “Who were you texting?” Bucky asked.

“None of your business,” Sam said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

Bucky came around to the other side of the kitchen bench and began looking over the ingredients.  “You were smiling.”

“I do that,” Sam said, going to get a pot out of the cupboard.  “I’m not a grumpy son of a bitch like someone I know.” 

“No,” Bucky said, grabbing a kitchen knife.  “It was an; ‘I’m talking to someone I’m into’ smile.  I’ve never known you to be into anyone.  Who is it?”

“It wasn’t an; ‘I’m into someone’ smile.  It was just a smile,” Sam said.  “I’m a happy guy.”

Bucky looked at him and picked up an egg.  He moved a bowl closer to him. “Watch this,” he said.  He threw the egg up into the air and held out the knife over the bowl.  The egg spun in the air and came down on the knife, cracking it perfectly in two and landing in the bowl.  It was seriously impressive.

“Did you just waste an egg?” Sam asked.

“Maybe I’m making an omelet?” Bucky suggested.

“Are you?”

Bucky shrugged and picked up another egg.  “Who were you texting?”

“It was just a woman I met at the supermarket,” Sam said as he went back to what he was doing.  “She helped me figure out what I needed for this recipe.”

“You got the number from some random woman at the supermarket, to say thank you for suggesting limes?” Bucky asked. “I’m not buying it.”

“Okay,” Sam huffed.  “I invited her this weekend for the crawfish boil.”

“I knew it!” Bucky said, putting the egg back down and turning to face Sam properly.

“Look we don’t all want to stay single forever,” Sam said. “I just met someone cute at the supermarket and figured I’m Captain America, why not ask her out?”

“I don’t want to be single forever either,” Bucky said.  “And it’s good.  You should date.  I just didn’t know you wanted to.  Tell me about her.”

“I’m not telling you about her,” Sam said. “Besides, there’s not much to tell yet, except that she’s cute - and she helped me out when I was acting a little crazy.  You can meet her on the weekend.  Just - don’t be weird.”

“I’m never weird,” Bucky said.

“Alright, make your omelet and get out of my way.  I want to practice this recipe,” Sam said.

“I wasn’t really making an omelet,” Bucky said. “I was showing off.”

Sam stifled laughter and shook his head.  “Get the hell out of here, would you?  You’re in the way.” 

“Can I help?” Bucky asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him.  “Sure…?”  It came out more as a question than an answer, and Bucky shrugged.

“I just like cooking.  I’d like to help,” he said.

Sam moved past Bucky to fill the pot with water.  “You start cutting up that stuff,” he said, pointing to vegetables and sausage.  “I’ll get the spice mix right.”

The two men went to work.  Sam wouldn’t admit it, but he liked that Bucky was helping him.  This felt like it should be a communal thing to do.  Besides, maybe Bucky needed some new traditions too, and in Sam’s opinion, this was a pretty great one to share.

// NEXT

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,340 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Hershel's Farm Warnings: Language, domestic violence, fear and anxiety A/N: Here with some Protective!Daryl for ya'll! Summary: When Daryl finds the reader outside in the rain in the middle of the night, he gives her a dry place to sleep, but the next day it causes problems with her asshole of a boyfriend.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl couldn’t sleep. He’d tossed and turned restlessly in his tent and finally decided to get up and do a perimeter check just for some goddamned thing to do to pass the time. A heavy rain was falling and it bothered him not being able to hear anything over the deluge.

He shouldered his crossbow and sheathed his knife, grabbing his flashlight from its place next to his cot. He slipped out of his tent and started through the maze of tents. That’s when he saw you. It looked like you were sincerely hoping he wouldn’t, like you were trying to blend into the tree trunk you were leaning against, sheltering as much as you could beneath the oak, obviously somewhat wet from the rain and shivering slightly.

Daryl’s brow drew down over his eyes and he headed straight for you. “What the hell are ya doin’ out here alone in the dark in the middle of a damn thunderstorm?”

You didn’t answer but you did raise your eyes to his, hugging your arms more tightly around yourself. He watched another shiver wrack through you. The archer frowned. “Why ain’t ya in with your guy?” he asked, jutting a thumb in the direction of the tent you shared with your boyfriend. Daryl didn’t like him at all... Frankly he thought the guy was a controlling piece of shit, and he had a hunch that he might be worse even than that.

You avoided his eyes again. “We, uhh—had a fight,” you murmured. Daryl could easily read the embarrassment and shame on your face.

“That don’t explain why you’re out here in the rain,” Daryl drawled.

You continued to avoid his eyes and didn’t answer. He could think of a couple reasons why you’d be out here instead of inside the dry tent, and neither of them were good. Either he’d kicked you out or you’d left because you were afraid of him, afraid of what would happen if you stayed. Either way, there was no way in hell Daryl was gonna let you spend the night outside in the cold autumn rain.

“Ya ain’t stayin’ out here in the rain. C’mon,” he said, nudging his head back in the direction of his own tent. He turned to lead the way and glanced back over his shoulder to see you hesitating to follow him. “If ya stay out here all night, all soakin’ wet like ya are, yer gonna catch yer death. C’mon.”

This time you followed him, still shivering.

Daryl held the tent flap open for you and you stepped inside, your arms still wrapped tightly around yourself. He followed and zipped the flap closed on the rain and night. When he turned you were standing awkwardly in the middle of the tent. Daryl set his crossbow down and clicked on the lantern next to his cot. He replaced the flashlight and pulled off his jacket. He held it out to you.

You gave him a questioning look.

“I can see ya shiverin’. Take it. Can’t have ya gettin’ pneumonia. We’ve already gone through too many of Hershel’s antibiotics.”

You accepted it from him. “Thanks,” you said.

He watched you pull it on, anxiously chewing his bottom lip as the fabric swallowed up your frame. He sat down on the floor across from you and pulled his knife out and his sharpening stone, just for something to do. He needed to busy his hands, because with you in that small space with him he was suddenly feeling nervous. “Make yourself at home,” he said, nodding toward his cot on the opposite wall.

You sat down on the edge a little gingerly and watched as he drew the blade of his knife across the stone.

He kept his eyes fixed on what he was doing but his deep voice broke through the pattering of the rain on the tent. “Ya wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged deeper into his jacket. It still held the warmth of his body and it smelled like him—musky leather, campfire smoke, and the outside air. “I don’t know,” you admitted.

The sharp noise of his blade punctuated the silence. “He kick ya out or… did ya need to get out?” This time his eyes flickered up to your face.

He watched you gulp, but you held his eyes. The warm lantern light threw the angles of your face into sharp relief. Your eyelashes cast long shadows on your cheeks.

Daryl’s light blue eyes moved back down to his hands. “S’alright. Ya ain’t gotta say.”

You bit at the inside of your cheek and couldn’t help another shiver that ran up your back. The archer looked up at you again immediately, concern furrowing his brow. He set his knife aside and climbed to his feet.

He unzipped the flap of the tent and stepped out. He met your questioning gaze with a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

This left you alone in his tent for a short time, just the hammering of the rain to keep you company. Your eyes wandered around the contents. It was a little unkempt, with clothes piled haphazardly in one corner and the edges of the canvas floor cluttered with tools and random items. There were half-finished crossbow bolts piled on a box that was serving as a side table, but something beneath them caught your eye. You gently brushed aside the wooden shafts and carefully lifted what had drawn your attention. It was delicate and brittle but you recognized it immediately as you carefully laid it out flat on your palm.

One day in the summer you had been collecting firewood for the group, eager to do something useful and needing some space for a while. You’d come upon a vine bursting with crimson flowers and as you’d stood and admired it, such a simple but beautiful thing, you’d watched hummingbirds flitting between the blossoms.

Wanting to know the name of the plant, you’d plucked a bloom and brought it back to the archer to identify. He’d taken hardly a glance at it before telling you its name. “Coral honeysuckle,” he drawled. “Ya can crush the berries and use ‘em on bee stings.”

“Coral honeysuckle,” you repeated. “There were tons of hummingbirds on it.”

He nodded. “Mhm. They like the nectar,” he said, holding the flower back out to you.

“Keep it,” you said with a smile, “as payment for your identification services.”

Daryl’s heart jumped at the smile on your face and he twirled the bloom between his fingers as he watched you retreat back toward the group.

This looked like the very same flower you had picked. He’d obviously pressed it underneath something to preserve it. The vibrant red petals were only slightly muted in color. He’d kept it all these months? You puzzled over this as you replaced it where you’d found it and arranged the crossbow bolts over it again. It was hard to ignore the warm feeling growing right between your lungs, threatening to spill outward.

A few minutes later, Daryl came into the tent again. There were raindrops on his shirt and caught in his hair. He had a small mug clutched in his hands and you could see spirals of steam rising from the surface. He extended it toward you and you accepted it, puzzled as you looked inside.

“Tea?” you asked, looking back up as Daryl settled onto the floor again.

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Mhm. I dunno if it’s any good. I think it’s some ginger-lemon thing Maggie brought to help with Lori’s nausea. But it’s hot. And you’re still cold,” he said. He felt nervous under the bewildered gaze you were giving him.

This man had just gone out into a thunderstorm to heat water for you and bring you tea simply because he’d seen you shiver. Not to mention that you were wrapped in his coat and he was sheltering you from the storm when your own boyfriend had—his voice broke your train of thought.

“I told ya. Can’t have ya gettin’ sick.” Daryl picked up his knife again and went back to sharpening it.

It was silent for some time as you sipped at the tea and watched the archer work on his knives diligently. You didn’t know that he could feel your eyes on him and it was driving him crazy. His body seemed to respond to you like you were a drug and he was an addict. He did his best to keep it under control. After all, you were technically spoken for, even if the guy was a complete douchebag at best.

But finally you spoke, setting the empty mug aside and sitting farther back on his cot, pulling your boots off and folding your legs under you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, grabbing the next knife that needed sharpening from its sheath.

“What do you think of—of my boyfriend?” you asked. Your cheeks immediately flushed. You felt stupid even asking the question. You already knew the answer and you knew where this conversation would lead. You knew what you needed to do, but you were afraid to do it. Did you really think someone else saying what you thought out loud was going to somehow give you the courage to go through with what needed to happen?

Daryl’s hands froze and he looked up at you, his eyes narrowed and fixated on your face for a long moment. He averted them back down and resumed his work again just as suddenly as he had stopped. “Don’t matter what I think.”

“It matters to me,” you said quietly.

The silence between you was suddenly thick, like a stagnant room full of humidity, the air heavy. The raindrops on the tent seemed to surround you and insulate you from everything else, from the rest of the world. The atmosphere was almost intoxicating, disorienting.

Eventually, Daryl’s blue eyes lifted again and fell on your face. He sighed heavily. “Ya really want to know what I think?” You nodded. “I think ya deserve better.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyebrows lifted in surprise. You’d expected Daryl to call him an asshole. You hadn’t expected that stated so explicitly. And you really didn’t expect him to go on.

“Either he threw ya out of your own damn tent into a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, or ya had to get out because being outside in a thunderstorm in the dark was a better option than bein’ in there with him. What kinda man is that?” He scowled for a moment as he thought about how much he wanted to drag the guy out of your tent, give him a few good punches, and leave his ass in the rain. He turned back to his knives.

You were silent, consumed by your thoughts, but eventually you yawned and Daryl looked up immediately. He systematically put away his tools and then he grabbed some balled up clothes to use as a pillow. He also grabbed his poncho. His eyes lifted and met yours. “Ya take the cot. I’m good down here,” he said.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I’ll go—”

Daryl let out a scoff. “What are ya gonna do? Go sleep out under that tree?” He shook his head and settled down on the floor, leaning back onto the makeshift pillow and draping his arm over his eyes. “Wasn’t a question anyhow. Just get the lantern when you’re settled in.”

You couldn’t help smiling at him on the floor where he was stretched out under his poncho, a knife right beside him. You watched his ribs rise and fall with his breathing a few times and the butterflies in your stomach made you realize that you were most definitely in trouble… in more ways than one.

You clicked off the lantern and laid down on his cot, still wrapped in his coat. You slept peacefully until morning.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You woke early as the orange glow of the sun struck the tent walls and you shot up straight at the sound of Daryl stirring.

He nudged his nose up at you in a greeting and you gave him a small smile. His heart jumped at the sight of you in his jacket, on his cot, that sleepy smile and your tousled hair. He tried to ignore how many times he’d fantasized about this very scene, but with a slightly different context where that was right where you were always supposed to be.

“Hey,” you greeted him.

He stood and shouldered his bow. “I’m gonna go hunt. Ya ain’t gotta get up yet. Sun’s barely up.”

You bent and started pulling your boots on. “It’s alright. I’m already up.” You slipped his jacket off and laid it on his cot. “Thanks,” you murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to smooth the strands a little self-consciously. “For everything last night.”

He shrugged and chewed his bottom lip a little anxiously. “S’nothin’.” For some reason this made you smile and he thought your cheeks grew a little pink.

“You always downplay everything you do. You shouldn’t,” you said kindly, standing up. “It was way more than nothing.”

Daryl gulped and simply opened the tent flap and stepped out. You followed him and gave him another small smile as he nodded at you one more time and then headed for the woods.

You decided to do some of the morning chores since you were already up and set about gathering more and restacking the fire wood and doing some preparation for breakfast. You grabbed the water canisters and headed toward the well to fill them. You were filling the second container when you heard footsteps in the grass behind you. You turned to see your boyfriend striding straight toward you. Your stomach churned.

“Morning, Y/N,” he said, coming to lean against the side of the well. His affect was flat and you were immediately on edge.

You avoided his eyes and didn’t say anything, just continued your work.

He reached over suddenly and pressed the pump handle down hard to stop the flow of water and your eyes shot up to his face. His expression was dark.

“You know, it’s weird. I got up while it was still dark and went out to look for you. Even went up to the house, but,” he shrugged, “you were nowhere to be seen.”

You stared back at him, your heart starting to rush a little in your chest.

“And I just wondered to myself, ‘Where could my girl have gone?’” He moved toward you, drawing himself up to his full height.

You stared up at him, gulping at the nervous tightness in your throat. “Seeing as you threw me out, I figured you wouldn’t care or come looking,” you said, reaching over and lifting the well handle again to start the flow of water, a little surprised at your own boldness to talk back to him in the way you did.

He immediately slammed the handle back down. “Well, I did. And imagine my surprise this morning when I saw you coming out of Daryl’s tent.”

You gulped.

“As soon as you found an excuse you just went running straight to that dumb redneck, didn’t you? Huh? How long have you been sneaking around behind my back? Did you have a good fuck last night?” He was right in your face now and you recoiled.

“It wasn’t—It wasn’t like that. I didn’t! It was storming. All he did was get me out of the rain. He—he slept on the floor. I just slept on his cot! That’s it,” you said, urgently grabbing the water and trying to rush back toward the tents and the group, sensing sincere danger not far away.

But your progress was stopped when he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. You dropped one of the water containers which spilled its contents onto the ground. “You really think I’m gonna believe that? How stupid do you think I am?” There was rage burning in his eyes. “We have a fight and you think you can go fuck whoever the hell you want? Do I have to remind you who you belong to?!” He was yelling at you now and you tried to pry his hand from your arm. His fingers were digging in painfully.

“I’ve never cheated on you! I wouldn’t—please!”

He sneered. “Why the hell should I believe that?! Huh? You’re mine! I don’t want to see you talking to another man. Hell, if I even catch you looking at that redneck again, you’ll pay for it.”

His grip on your arm felt like it was tightening by the second. “I swear nothing happened! You’re hurting me! Let go!” you pleaded, feeling your eyes going wide with fear.

He growled at you through his teeth. “I can do whatever the hell I want. I’ll break your arm if I want to,” he said viciously, starting to twist your arm behind your back painfully. You couldn’t help crying out, but that was the wrong thing to do, and you knew it.

The next moment you felt a blow across your jaw and tasted blood in your mouth. You fell to the ground, splayed in the dust, narrowly missing cracking your head against the cobbled stone of the well. Your vision was black. You could only hear a high-pitched ringing in your ears.

The blackness dissolved slowly and you climbed desperately to your feet, but another blow landed across your cheek and you fell hard against the stone well this time, your back colliding painfully with the jagged edges of rock. You had an arm up to shield yourself as you tried to orient yourself again, waiting for your vision to clear.

You were waiting for the next blow to come, steeling yourself as best you could, but it never landed. The next thing you knew Daryl had barreled out of nowhere and he had your boyfriend on the ground beneath him, landing blow after blow into his face and body. “You piece of shit! Ya think hittin’ her makes you a fuckin’ man?! I’ll kill you if you ever lay a goddamn hand on her again!”

You watched in stunned horror. The rest of your group members were tearing across the field toward the commotion. They’d heard the yelling and your surprised scream and raced to get to you. Rick and Lori were in the lead and suddenly they were there. Lori grabbed you and helped you to your feet, her face white as a sheet as she looked at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting you in your daze, leading you slightly back and away from the melee. When you glanced back over at Daryl you saw that he now had his crossbow aimed right at your boyfriend’s head. His chest and shoulders were heaving and every muscle in his arms were tensed. Rick was trying to talk him down.

“Daryl. Daryl, this isn’t the way. Let’s just calm down and we’ll decide together how to deal with him,” Rick was saying softly. “Just put your bow down and we’ll deal with him.”

The muscle in Daryl’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. “This bastard deserves to die,” he growled.

“I know. I know… I see what he did. But we’ll talk about this and decide on it together. Alright? Let’s just calm down for a minute.”

It took everything he had, every bit of willpower not to pull that trigger and end the bastard right there. And if you hadn’t been watching, he might have done it. But he didn’t want you to be afraid of him too. Daryl lowered his bow and Rick pulled him off your boyfriend, who was cowering on the ground with blood pouring down his face from an obviously broken nose. His eyes were already swelling shut.

Rick grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. “You are comin’ with me,” Rick growled, dragging him away toward the barn.

Daryl ducked his head, his chest still heaving with exertion, and spared a glance in your direction. Your bottom lip was split and you had a hand pressed over the left side of your face, concealing the already blooming bruises from that asshole’s fist landing on your jaw and cheekbone. His heart ached, his stomach twisted, and he turned and stalked off after Rick.

You avoided the looks of pity and shock that the rest of the group was giving you and did your best to hold in your tears of pain and humiliation. You focused on Lori as best you could.

“Oh my God. Come here, honey. Let me look at you,” Lori said, moving in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face. Next, she noticed that your back was bleeding in a few places where you’d hit the stones and you winced as you tried to straighten up completely. Spots of crimson were staining your shirt. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. Come on. Let’s go clean you up. Come on.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders again.

You felt like you were going into shock. You were disoriented. Lori led you up to the farmhouse and called out to Maggie and Hershel as you entered. They both rushed into the front room.

“Oh my God. What happened?” Maggie asked urgently, her eyes going round with horror.

Lori gave her a look and Maggie seemed to understand. There had been suspicions going around the group that perhaps your boyfriend was laying his hands on you occasionally, and they all seemed to now be confirmed.

Lori led you to sit down on a chair in the dining room. The vet-turned-doctor examined your face and determined that, luckily, no bones were out of place, but that you likely had a fractured cheekbone and a concussion, not the mention the injuries to your back and your split lip.

Lori guided you to the bathroom and started the bath tub filling with warm water. “Alright. Climb in there and I’ll be back in to help clean up your back, alright?” she said gently. She left and shut the door softly behind her.

You obediently stripped your clothes off, in a daze still, and stepped into the tub, wrapping your arms around your knees, holding them tightly to your chest. Lori knocked a moment later and you murmured a “come in.” She had a washcloth in one hand and sank down on the edge of the tub, immediately dipping it into the hot water and dabbing at the wounds on your back. The abrasions weren’t too deep, but it looked like most of your back would be badly bruised.

You were grateful she didn’t say anything. You’d seen the expression on her face and that was enough. She sighed heavily and climbed to her feet. “Come on out when you’re ready. Hershel says you can stay in the guest room tonight. We want to keep an eye on you because of that concussion, okay?”

You nodded and rested your chin on your knees. It was right then when the tears finally started pouring down your cheeks and you gasped in a shuddering breath. “Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Lori said, rushing right back over and kneeling beside the tub, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“I don’t even recognize who I am anymore,” you said, rushing to wipe the tears that broke free from your eyes. “I think after everything fell apart, I just thought if I didn’t have something to cling onto from before that I—I don’t know—that I wouldn’t make it. But then he just… changed. And it didn’t happen all at once and I think that’s why I didn’t just—it was gradual. I almost didn’t notice it and then all of a sudden he just wasn’t himself anymore.” You hastily wiped at your tears again. “I feel so stupid and embarrassed and ashamed,” you admitted, unable to look at her.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. And you have nothin’ to feel ashamed about. And it’s all over now, alright? It’s over.”

You gasped in a shaky breath. “If Daryl hadn’t—”

“I know,” she shushed you. “I know. But he did. It’s all gonna be okay now, alright? Get cleaned up and I’ll be right outside in case you need anything.”

You gave her a grateful look and nodded. You sat in the hot water until it started to cool, your mind mostly blank. The adrenaline had worn off now and you were feeling every bit of pain. Your head felt like it was going to split open and you winced at the sight of your swollen and bruised face in the mirror. You pulled your clothes back on and ventured into the hallway. Lori was standing there with some clean clothes for you and she led you to the guest room and set them on the bed.

“Get changed into those clean clothes and then you need to rest. Hershel’s orders. He wants you in bed. We need to be careful because of that concussion.”

You thanked her again and nodded. You discarded your bloodstained shirt and dirty jeans on a chair in the corner and pulled on the new outfit before climbing under the covers. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing out again and you squeezed your eyes shut against the pounding in your face and head.

Outside, the group was gathered to discuss what to do with your boyfriend. Daryl couldn’t stand still and was pacing angrily in front of the house. He looked up as Lori came out and the screen door slammed with a snap.

“How is she?” Rick asked, his face dark with concern.

“Alright, considering,” Lori said, slipping her hands in her back pockets. “Concussion. Bruised and swollen. Abrasions over half her back. Hershel thinks her cheekbone is fractured.” She caught Daryl’s eyes and gave him a knowing look.

“Oh my God,” Andrea said, exchanging a look with Carol, whose eyes turned down toward the grass.

Daryl swore under his breath and resumed his pacing.

“Well, what do we do?” T-dog asked. “We can’t just keep going on like everything is normal with him in camp. He’s got to go.”

“The question is how,” Dale said.

“That bastard ain’t even deserve to still be drawin’ breath,” Daryl drawled. He looked at Rick.

Rick sighed heavily. “Yeah…”

“I mean, I agree with Daryl, man. I don’t want that guy around any of us,” Shane said.

“What if we just take him out and leave him? Drive him way out and drop him off somewhere,” Rick mused.

Shane scoffed. “We might as well shoot him in the head right now. He’d never make it out there alone. That’s as good as killing him.”

Rick nodded. “I know, but it feels a little less like the blood is on our hands then... He has a chance.”

“He don’t even deserve a chance. I’m fine with his blood on our hands,” Daryl spat. “If I hadn’t been over there huntin’ he coulda killed her.”

Rick sighed again, the weight of the decision obviously weighing on him, and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah… Let’s just take the day to think it over. We can decide tonight. And Y/N can have a say.”

The group nodded in agreement and dispersed. Lori went back in to check on you.

She knocked lightly on the door and you murmured for her to come in. “How are you feeling?” she asked you.

“I’m fine,” you said, lying about how much pain you were in.

She nodded. “We’re all going to figure out what to do about him,” she said. “You should think about what you want to happen. He can’t stay here, but as far as what that means—”

“Okay,” you interrupted her. You rolled over and looked at her in the doorway. “Is Daryl—?”

She smiled a little and nodded. “You want me to get him? He’s probably still pacing on the front porch.

You nodded. “If you could.”

“Of course.” Lori left and in a moment the archer appeared in the doorway.

You were in bed, your back to the door, but you turned and looked over your shoulder at the sound of his footsteps. Daryl’s stomach twisted at the swelling and red welts on your face. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.” You pulled yourself up in a seated position and Daryl came around and sank down on the chair pulled up at the side of the bed. “I just wanted to say thank you,” you said, unable to meet his eyes and instead running the edge of the sheet through your fingers, staring at it like it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. “And I’m sorry that you got pulled into this mess…” you trailed off.

“I ain’t,” he said forcefully. “I’m glad I got to beat the shit out that guy. I just wish I’d done it sooner.”

You looked up at him and the glistening tears in your eyes made the colors in your irises stand out. His stomach flipped again at the sight of your injuries. “I feel so stupid. I never should have stayed with him.”

Daryl shook his head. “Ain’t that simple.”

You were grateful for his understanding. Daryl watched you struggling with some thought until you finally spoke it. “What if he gets out?” you asked, fear obvious in your eyes.

“He ain’t getting’ out. I tied his ass up myself,” Daryl reassured you. “But I’ll sit watch outside all night. Nothin’ is gonna happen to ya. It’s over.” The archer stood but your hand shot out and gently landed on his arm. He froze at the feeling of electricity that crackled from your fingers.

“Will you sit with me for a little while?” you asked. “Just—until I can fall asleep.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod and sank back down, feeling nervous and chewing on his bottom lip. Daryl watched as you settled back down in bed, pulling the covers up over yourself and shutting your eyes, your long eyelashes fanning out against your cheeks. The feelings welling up in him were getting more and more difficult to deny, and he knew now wasn’t the time—not yet. You needed to get through this first. But Daryl wanted to show you how you did deserve to be treated, even as he dared not hope that he’d have the chance, that you’d feel the same thing for him that he felt for you. He wanted to protect you, take care of you. He wanted to show you how strong you actually were, even as he thought of how much you reminded him of that flower you’d brought him; vibrant, sweet, soft, delicate, but always climbing toward the light. And he was determined to help you see it.

[yoongiseesawmp3]

punch me - jungkook

back again with another self indulgent fic! enjoy

summary: daycare worker jungkook invites you, his favorite coworker, to the lake with his friends. why the lake? he wants you to see his new sleeve and whipping his shirt off in the classroom isn’t quite acceptable. plus he just wants to spend more time with you. there’s no harm in that.

warnings: none i think! 

word count: 3.5k

you work at a daycare, which isn’t a bad thing. it’s pretty chill, you like the kids and you can take off work pretty easy because there’s tons of subs. but also, not many people are bringing their kids in lately. so that means you and the other staff have been digging into the snack closet so “they won’t go to waste.”

jungkook was the one who suggested it. well, maybe suggest is the wrong word? he got caught up to his elbows in the bin of sweets, so when he turned to face your boss he immediately went into charming mode so he wouldn’t get in trouble. and once jungkook said it, everyone else thought it was a good idea too. hell, you’ve stopped buying snacks for yourself because you just sneak them from work now. wait. don’t tell anyone that. 

anyway, it was a great idea, but that was two weeks ago. now the snack closet is empty and you have a room full of toddlers on the verge of anarchy because of it. because of jungkook.

you just watched him pass by your room, arms laden with cheez-its and rice krispie treats, and you know for a fact he doesn’t have a class today. he’s only here to touch up the mural he’s been asked to paint near the front desk, so all of those snacks must be for him. 

you get the teacher from next door to keep an eye on your kiddos so you can sneak to the front and steal a couple bags of cheez-its (the kids don’t need their own bag, they’ll never know). but you get there and find yourself distracted from completing your mission.

jungkook is wearing old sweats, spattered with paint here and there, and he’s stooped over a bucket of water with a paintbrush between his teeth. it’s cute. 

“jungkook,” you semi-shout to get his attention. you get a sort of “hmgpfh?” in response, and that’s enough for you. “do you seriously need this many snacks? just for yourself?”

“i’m a growing boy, y/n,” he replies, taking the paintbrush out of his mouth so he can dip it into a paper plate covered in red shades. “you can have one.”

“i need three, actually,” you reply, picking them up as you speak. 

“are you a growing boy too?”

“no, i have six little kids with bad attitudes waiting for me in my room so i’ll be taking these off your hands,” you explain, finally turning to look at the work jungkook has put on the wall. “wow.”

“you like it?” jungkook asks, turning to look at you with a smile and a dancing light in his eyes. “is the tree too much?”

“no, oh my god, this is really good, jungkook,” you assure him, tracing your eyes over the wall full of characters and scenery from various children’s books.

“thank you,” he replies. “it’s better than wiping asses all day.”

“watch your mouth.”

“why don’t you watch it for me?” he quips back, peeking up at you with a smirk.

“what does that even mean, jungkook.”

“just thought i’d try to make you blush,” he says with a shrug. “didn’t work this time.”

“i don’t think it works anytime, actually,” you mumble, but he ignores it.

“hey, are you busy this weekend?” he questions, inspecting a bottle of green before squirting some directly on the wall. 

“are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask with a laugh. you watch him frantically spread the paint around to resemble a bush.

“shut up. are you busy this weekend?” he asks again. 

“i don’t think so, why?”

“come to the lake with me,” he says as he stands up to meet your eyes. “one of my friends convinced his uncle to let us borrow his boat. it’ll be fun.”

“do any of you know how to drive a boat?” you ask. “the safety of all this is what would keep me away.”

“i’m sure yoongi hyung will be able to do it,” jungkook says halfheartedly. “but still, the boat could just stay docked. it would be fun either way.”

“when are you going?” 

“saturday, so i could come by yours and get you on my way?” he asks with a lot of hope in his voice. you shrug before responding.

“why not? sure.”

-

so, jungkook texts you late friday that he’ll pick you up at 7am saturday. what the fuck. you wouldn’t have said yes if you knew you had to leave that early, but jungkook explained that he’s the only one the uncle trusts to have the keys, so he has to get there before the world wakes up. but also, has this man met jungkook? jungkook, being trustworthy with small, easy to lose items? please.

nevertheless, you’re up bright and early on saturday with a very large thermos of coffee. jungkook texts you right at 7 that he’s outside, and when you walk out you see him at the back of his car trying to force something into the trunk.

“whatcha doin?” you ask as you approach, noticing his strong legs in his (surprisingly) short swim trunks. you’re now realizing you’ve never seen him in anything other than baggy pants, so his legs are a little...distracting. 

“trying to keep the beer bottles from rattling,” he says through clenched teeth.

“and you’re trying to fuse them together with sheer force?”

“no, i’m stuffing a towel in between them in the box but it’s really tight.”

“if hoseok were here he’d make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke,” you jest. 

“i thought about it,” jungkook replies. “so i guess that counts?”

as he talks, he rearranges the other things in the trunk so it can close easy, and as he lowers the door he turns to you.

“you look nice,” he says, eyes drifting over you quickly. he notices the coffee cup in your hand and smiles. “any chance that has the sickly sweet creamer in it that i like?”

“how would i know what coffee creamer you like?” you ask, slightly annoyed that he just assumes you pay that much attention to him but also annoyed that you got caught. 

“because you like me,” he replies, grabbing the thermos and taking a sip. “oh my god, i love you.”

“you better be talking to the coffee,” you warn him as you grab the coffee back from him. 

“i’ll say it to you someday,” he promises, walking around to the passenger side of the car before opening your door. “if you let me.”

“what’s gotten into you lately?” you ask with a smile. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on jungkook, and recently it’s gotten worse. after you started working together, you noticed how many shared friends you have, so you’ve been hanging out more and more the past few months. jungkook has always been more than nice to you, but these flirty little comments are a welcome change. you hope they keep coming.

“is it cool if we stop at the gas station real quick?” he asks as he gets into the driver’s seat. “it’s an hour drive and i need gas and snacks.”

“fine with me. how about cheez-its and rice krispies?” 

“i had my fill of those at work this week, thanks,” jungkook laughs. 

at the gas station, you offer to get the snacks while jungkook stays at the pump. you’re looking for your favorite gas station snack, a crappy fruit and cheese danish that you could eat every day. jungkook finds you bent over in the sweets aisle, ass poking out too much for him to pass by and not push your face right into the premade baked goods. he considers it, because funny, but mean. he also considers passing behind you and smacking your ass as he does so you’ll move. tempting, but maybe too far. he opts for just bending down next to you to see what’s so interesting.

“what are we looking for?” he asks, scanning the labels for something to try.

“cherry and cheese,” you tell him, moving a blueberry danish out of the way, hoping to find what you want, but no luck.

“what? that sounds gross,” jungkook replies as he stands. “you like that?”

“it’s one of my favorites,” you tell him as you move into a squat. jungkook slides behind you and looks for his favorite jelly candy as you keep searching. “what’s so gross about it? they go well together.”

“like us.”

“what?” 

“huh?” jungkook asks, staring down at you with a glint in his eyes. the glare you give him is definitely ignored as jungkook looks back up and spots something on the top shelf. he grabs it and hands it to you. “this what you want?”

“yeah, it is,” you reply. “thanks. get another one for yourself.”

“why?” he asks, screwing his face up in disgust.

“because i know you’ll want to try some even with the way you’re acting right now, and i don’t like sharing.” 

“whatever you say,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “now help me find the sour worms.”

-

jungkook tried the danish, and he hated it. 

have you ever seen a baby eating a lemon? it was like that, except jungkook spat what was in his mouth into his hand and then tossed it out the window of his car as he drove. sure, that whole part was gross, but he looked cute when he didn’t like the danish. who doesn’t love babies making silly faces? 

“i can’t believe you like that, but i can’t believe you convinced me to try it,” jungkook complains.

“kook, i think if i told you electrocuting yourself was fun you would try it just because i said i liked it,” you reply. he thinks about it for a moment before nodding, a slight tint gracing his cheeks.

“you’re right, but that’s not gonna make me finish your gross choice of snack.”

“fine, more for me,” you say, grabbing the discarded treat in the cupholder. you take a bite, not really caring that jungkook’s mouth was on it before you.

“omg.”

“did you just say ‘omg’ out loud?”

“yes, why?”

“you’re a loser,” you laugh, taking another bite, causing jungkook to gasp again. “what?”

“it’s like we just kissed,” he replies, almost giggling through his toothy smile.

“what do you even mean by that.”

“we just swapped spit.”

“you’re disgusting. stop talking.”

“hey, you’re the one that wants to kiss me,” jungkook says with a shrug. you want to protest, but you don’t want to convince him that you’re totally against kissing him. you’d actually very much like to plant your lips on his and never let go, but life doesn’t always give you what you want. jungkook notices your silence and smiles. “you’re not denying it.”

“i’m being polite.”

“mmmhmm,” he replies, failing to hide how pleased he is as he pulls into a treacherously sloped driveway. “we’re here.”

-

it’s turning into a beautiful day. the morning chill is starting to slowly melt away, and you find yourself sweating slightly as you help jungkook move all of the junk from his car. he insisted on doing it himself, but you felt super weird just standing there while he huffed and puffed carrying things back and forth, so you finally jumped in. it’s still just the two of you here, the friend’s uncle had successfully given you both a crash course on how to handle the boat, and you’re confident the two of you can share that info with yoongi when he gets here and hopefully no one will get hurt. 

speaking of yoongi, he said he was a few minutes away, and that was more than a few minutes ago. maybe he and hoseok got lost. the final four (as they’ve been calling themselves all morning) will be here later because taehyung didn’t have a swimsuit and they had to make a pit stop at walmart to get him one. you’re familiar with jungkook’s friends, and comfortable with a couple of them, but you don’t know much about taehyung aside from his interest in art and now his view on the boxer vs briefs debate (he was apparently very picky when trying on said swimsuits). but whatever. they’ll get here eventually. 

before you know it, you and jungkook have unloaded all of the snacks, alcohol and water accessories from his car, so all that’s left to do is hang out until the boys get here. 

“you ready?” jungkook asks, offering you his hand. you give him a questioning look and he motions to the boat. “c’mon, we’re not gonna sit here in the sun while we wait for them. it’s hot as balls.”

“but it’s hot as balls on the boat too,” you counter as you take his outstretched hand and let him pull you behind him on the dock.

“yeah, but at least we’re on a boat.”

he leads you to the edge of the shaky dock and let’s go of your hand momentarily to steady himself as he steps over to the boat. he turns back and offers his hand again, giving yours a squeeze as he guides you over the gap of water. the boat is slippery, so you lose your footing slightly and jungkook reacts quickly by wrapping you in his arms. the boat is bobbing a little too much for your liking, but jungkook is giggling and that distracts you enough from the fact that you could’ve fallen just now. 

as you both stand there awkwardly staring at each other, you don’t notice yoongi’s car pulling up to the top of the hill and its two passengers walking out toward the water. 

“oooh, what do we have here?” hoseok asks as he sees you holding onto each other for dear life. you separate quickly, making the newcomers laugh.

“don’t stop because we’re here,” yoongi replies.

“yeah, i can hug yoongi if it makes things less awkward for you,” hoseok offers.

“please don’t do that,” yoongi quips back.

“i’ll get you when you least expect it, hyung.”

jungkook, still standing very close to you, clears his throat and waves yoongi over. you scoot around them to help hoseok with the bag of food in his hands.

“are you sure you know how to drive a boat, yoongi?” you ask. 

“i’m a fast learner,” he replies.

“that’s not very reassuring.”

“i’ve done it before, y/n,” he laughs. “just not with this kind of motor, but it won’t take long to figure out. everything will be nice and safe, i promise.”

“besides, we have jungkookie here to save you even if hyung throws us overboard,” hoseok jokes.

speaking of jungkook, he’s rustling around the boat, trying to figure out how to put the suncover up. his jacket from this morning has been tossed aside, and he’s in a baggy tank top. you allow yourself a moment to admire the way his muscles ripple as he works when you notice -

“you finished your sleeve?” you ask him. his head snaps up in your direction and he smiles.

“enjoying the show?” he teases.

“answer the question.”

“honestly, i wanted it to be a surprise,” he replies, stretching the arm out and turning it around as best he can.

“so what, you were gonna take your shirt off and punch me and that’s how i was supposed to find out?”

“are you offering?”

“i’m just mad you didn’t take me with you! i was gonna get something this time,” you complain with a slight pout, which jungkook scrunches his nose at. you’re really cute, he thinks to himself.

“my artist called me last minute and said they had an opening, so i went in as soon as i could. i think you were still handling six hungry toddlers,” he explains.

“so is that why you invited me today?” you laugh. “you couldn’t think of a reasonable way to take your shirt off in front of me so i had to come with you to the lake for the big reveal?”

“jungkook, if you say yes, then jin and i are giving you the sex talk. you gotta up your game,” yoongi mumbles.

“no,” jungkook insists, ignoring yoongi. “i invited you today because i think it’ll be fun and i wanted you to be here.”

“and he wanted to see you in a swimsuit,” hoseok adds, pulling some cookies out of the bag of snacks. he offers them to you and you gladly accept. then he turns and pops one into yoongi’s mouth as he yawns, before he tosses one over to jungkook, happily shouting “a cookie for kookie!”

“that’s cute,” you smile, liking the way hoseok babies jungkook. it’s got him flustered, and it’s kind of adorable.

“kook, did you hear that? y/n thinks you’re cute,” hoseok sing-songs.

“i- that’s not...i didn’t say that,” you stumble. “the rhyming was cute. if anything, i called hoseok cute.”

“everyone thinks hobi is cute,” yoongi replies. “but jungkook? eh.”

“eh?!” jungkook shouts. “i’m just eh to you hyung?”

“now you hurt the boy’s feelings,” you tell yoongi, and he shrugs.

“you should’ve just called him cute.”

you look over and notice jungkook is staring at you, an eyebrow quirked in a challenge. hoseok is watching and munching like this is a movie, and yoongi looks between you and the so-called cutie and laughs to himself.

“well?” jungkook asks.

“i mean, yeah, you are cute, sometimes,” you begin. “not when you’re being annoying though.”

“i’m not annoying!”

“yes you are,” hoseok and yoongi agree in unison. jungkook huffs at that and looks back at you.

“now my feelings are hurt again. talk more about me being cute,” he pleads as he finally gives up on the suncover and joins you on the wraparound couch of the boat. he’s looking at you with the absolute worst puppy dog eyes, so you keep going.

“uh, you’re cute with the kids i guess? like when they use you as their personal playground and you’re all giggling. that’s cute,” you offer. “or when the little girls get hurt, they always run to you first and you cheer them up with sweet songs.”

“hmm, family planning perhaps?” you hear hoseok joke with yoongi. 

you would go on (or deny how often you’ve thought about jungkook being a dad) but the other car of boys has finally arrived, so the two instigators leave the boat to help them unload. that leaves you next to jungkook, who’s not done talking about the cute stuff.

“i didn’t know you noticed all of that,” jungkook whispers, suddenly sitting very close to you. you try to act like it’s nothing, but he stops you. “ah ah, now it’s my turn.”

“your turn? for what?”

“for talking about how cute you are,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever. if he had his way he would be pulling up a whole powerpoint presentation right now, but he has to rely on his words, which is fine. “first of all, you have great style. you’re maybe the only person who can make the daycare uniform look like a capital o outfit everyday you come in. and the way your eyes light up when a kid tells you a story, or shows you something they made? that’s my favorite. wish you would look at me like that someday.”

“you...what?” you almost can’t believe where this conversation has gone, but it’s making your heart beat faster and you’re not ready for it to stop.

“i wish i could make your eyes light up like i’m the only person you can see,” he clarifies, locking eyes with you. he holds your gaze for a moment before his eyes flick down to your lips. you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close, but the movement was obvious. jungkook wants to kiss you. 

“and what would you do if they did?” you challenge, repeating the same glance from his eyes down to his lips. your gaze lingers a little longer, and when you look back up at jungkook you know what’s coming next. that doesn’t mean it’s not shocking, though.

kissing jungkook is like pulling down a piece of the sun and slamming it into your chest. the warmth that he exudes, and the softness of his lips as they caress yours, it’s perfect. but - 

“wait,” jungkook mumbles against your lips. you pull back, worried.

“what?”

“i did that wrong.”

“wha..how? jungkook, i thought that was nice,” you assure him but he shakes his head.

“i did it wrong,” he insists, looking at you and noticing the shine in your eyes that he was hoping for. “can i kiss you again?”

you nod and let out a quiet “yes” before jungkook is cupping your face and connecting your lips again. this one is stronger, more intentional and you’re glad he wanted to try again. not that the first kiss was bad, your mind is still reeling from that first one. but this feels like a kiss full of love. it feels like a kiss from someone that’s been pining for you over bags of cheez-its and funny kid stories, but they didn’t know how to tell you how badly they wanted to do this. jungkook didn’t know how to tell you, but now he doesn’t have to because this kiss tells you everything you need to know.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said. 

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said. 

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip. 

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some. 

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled. 

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said. 

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said. 

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?” 

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close. 

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ. 

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ. 

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow. 

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you. 

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said. 

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt. 

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together. 

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you? 

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!