#thought about this while watching Cornhole in One

[littlebirdy0301]

Ross Bryant in an improvised storyline be like “I WILL romance a character and I WILL tenderly touch their arm and I WILL take their hands & look lovingly into their eyes”

[saturnville]

in the dirty south, II.

pairing: cowboy!coriolanus snow x black fem oc. warnings: old slang, sexual innuendo, flirting, sorta forbidden infatuation if you blink. shy!oc. content: while at a town fair with her family, delilah finds herself heavily infatuated with the new face in town. an: I'm not sure if I'll make another part to this. it depends on if I get more inspiration, but idk I like cowboy coriolanus.

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim @cherry2stems to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact!

The fair was just as lively as she remembered years ago. The sun was still beaming and the hustle and bustle ramped up by the minute. It was a beautiful sight of organized chaos. Tents and booths set up along the strip with excited members of the community engaged in every aspect. Small children chasing one another and giggling as they slid against the pavement, adults chugging beer like it was water, and young men and women engaged in an intense game of cornhole. Delilah smiled. It was light-hearted moments as such that made her days better.

Her mother had retired inside Turner's to combat the heat exhaustion she felt coming on. Luckily, the poundcake and milk were long gone, save for the slice Delilah saved for Coriolanus, so there was nothing to keep her outside. Delilah on the other hand, chose to sit perched underneath the tent with a fan in one hand and a cup of water in the mother. People watching would keep her amused for the time being.

As her dark eyes scoped the area, they landed on Coriolanus, who was engaged in a game of cornholl with Ezra and another young woman. Her eyes narrowed. The woman, who recognized as Lyra. They'd gone to school together years prior, and to say Delilah was fond of her was an understatement. She was a beautiful girl--dusty brown hair and fair skin with brown eyes--but she was mean. Delilah didn't like mean. But Ezra did.

She hummed to herself as she watched Ezra visibly melt as Lyra batted her eyelashes before throwing the sand-filled bag on the wooden plank. It seemed to get intense as Coriolanus grinned cockily after scoring, what she assumed to be, the winning point on the duo.

Delilah chuckled. Competitive just like every other man she knew. As if he could feel her heavy gaze on him, Coriolanu turned his head slightly. He tipped tipped his hat, which made her wave shyly.

Coriolanus said a few words to Lyra and Ezra before jogging over to where Delilah sat under the tent. "I hope you saved me a slice of cake." He took a seat next to her, knee brushing against her own. She said nothing rather slid the intricately folded napking that covered the poundcake toward him. Coriolanus smiled.

"Thank you." He unwrapped it and dropped a piece into his mouth, moaning softly at the taste. Delilah's body stiffened at the sound. Something within her was awakened. It didn't go unnoticed. Nor did the increased speed of her fan. Coriolanus raised his eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Just fine," Delilah replied. She turned to face him. "How do you know the boys? They're like my brothers and no offense, but they've never mentioned you before. Y'all get along like y'all have known each other for ages."

Coriolanus took in a breath. She was shy yet straightforward; he could respect it. The story of his relationship with her "brothers" was complicated. When he was exiled from the Capitol and thrust into District 11, he was alone. No familiar faces, no family, and no friends. But when he was stopped by Elijah, Malachi, and Ezra while walking to the fields for his early-morning shift, they'd become colleagues. Friends. Brothers.

"We work the fields together," Coriolanus said, turning to meet her tired eyes. "Stopped me on my way to work one morning when I moved to 11. Didn't have anybody. They became my somebody."

Delilah nodded. She thought about the mess he'd gotten himself in, and wondered how bad it had to have been if he was forced to move to the Districts. No one would move to the Districts from the Capitol. She loved being part of 11, but even she wouldn't pass up on the opportunity to experience Capitol living if it was an option.

"What about you, Miss Delilah Mae? Very pretty name, by the way." Coriolanus leaned toward her, his lips close to her ear. "Do you have somebody?"

Her fan stopped moving. Her fan stopped moved and her eyes cut to his. She'd never realized how pretty they were. They were like gentle waves in the sea. Could her boats sail across them and bask in their essence? She could only imagine.

Delilah brought her cup to her lips. Still stained red, they wrapped around the rim as she took a gulp. A singular droplet fell from the corner of her mouth and traveled down her cheek and neck until it slipped down the valley of her breasts. Coriolanus followed its route.

"No," she finally replied. "I don't. Why--you tryin' to be my somebody?"

A sly smile played on his lips as he shrugged. It wouldn't sound so bad. Getting to know the pretty girl with a whole lot of mysteriou treasure buried deep beneath her shy nature. He hoped to get lucky and find the gold.

Coriolanus brought a hand to her face and wiped away the remnants of water that rested there. His thumb and index finger cupped her chin gently. "I just might be, darling. Only if you let me."

[athenadione]

at the edge of the precipice, chapter 9

I'm just gonna leave this here... (trigger warnings, read the full story in a03).

The wind blows through her hair, tickling her cheek as the waves crash a few feet in front of her. Jason runs wildly after a giggling Stephanie, mudpies in hand, kicking up sand as he gains momentum. 

“Jason, don’t you fucking dare!” She yells over her shoulder.

The look in Jason’s eyes would have made her feel uneasy a month ago. Instead, amusement twinkles in them as she watches it hit the young blonde’s back with a resounding splat. 

A few howls and curses later, they’re both racing to the ocean to join Kori who’s already been in the water for at least an hour. Raven has no doubt that her toes are wrinkled. That thought has her own nose crinkling in disapproval. 

“Something wrong Raven?” Damian asks beside her on the towel he had laid out for them earlier, its coverage provided by the large royal blue umbrella he had dug, then pierced into the sand. 

One corner of her mouth quirks upwards as she spreads out her feet, “I was just thinking about how wrinkled Kori’s toes must be by now. I’m almost afraid to look at them when she gets out.” 

Damian lets out a chuckle, a heat sizzling low in her stomach at the guttural noise. “I can promise you Kori doesn’t care. She hasn’t stopped talking about this trip since father told her about it a week ago.” 

Raven’s smile softens, “She deserves a nice vacation. You all do.” 

“We all do, Raven.”

Right, we. Pulling the sleeve of her kimono back up over her shoulder, the smile on her lips fade as she falls deeper into thought. She doesn’t tell Damian that she doesn’t believe she deserves any of this kindness—or that she still doesn’t feel like she’s a part of the group. 

“I’m surprised that Bruce even planned a trip for us to go to the beach,” Raven ponders aloud, “I wasn’t sure he even knew what a vacation was.” Glancing sideways, she catches Damian’s own smile fading into a scowl. 

“He sent us here for more than just a vacation. I think he sent us away for a reason,” he admits to her, eyes narrowing as he looks to the sea straight ahead, “and when we get back I’m going to find out why.” 

So Damian’s in the dark just as much as she is. Turning her gaze back to the ocean as well, she briefly wonders if Jason or Kori have any idea what Bruce may or may not be scheming behind their backs. 

The bat family’s always been too good at keeping secrets. 

She wonders what secrets they’ve all been keeping from her, and apparently Damian too. 

“Hey Raven, Damian, we need one more player for cornhole, either of you down?” Stephanie yells across the sand to them. Raven looks up to see Kori practicing with the bags in her hand. The first one goes over by a long shot, leaving Jason to chase after it. 

From her left Damian gives her a questioning look, raising a brow in wait of her answer. She responds with a small smile, “You go have fun,” She waves a hand in the direction of his family “looks like Kori might need your help.” 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He asks, clearly worried to leave her, even if they’re just playing a few feet away. 

“Yes,” She huffs, “You’ve already worried about me too much, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” He says with reluctance, moving to stand, “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” 

“Of course.” 

“Hurry up bat brat, me and Kori are ready to kick your ass!” 

Damian rolls his eyes, flashing her a final smile before turning to join the rest of them. Raven releases a sigh, settling back into her beach chair while digging her toes in the sand. 

The truth is she feels like she needs the time alone. The decision to keep what happened yesterday a secret is already beginning to wear on her, and she’s wondering if telling Damian would be better. She chews her bottom lip, watching Damian warm up with a few tosses. 

Clearly they’ve all played before, but Raven’s never seen Damian play anything. 

Well, that isn’t exactly true. She remembers a time before when everything was easier and one of the first times they had really bonded was over ring toss at the fair…

Except that memory is a blur to her now, wiped away by stains of maroon as dark as the curtains surrounding the booth they played at. If she concentrates enough she can still taste the metallic bitterness of her own blood as she bites her lip over and over while stepping over fire, ash and debris, and so many bodies—

Kori’s cry of delight startles her. Raven blinks hard at the noise, then lets go of shaky breath. With clumsy hands she reaches over to the cooler to pull out a bottle of water before placing it at her neck, holding it there. The coolness seeps into skin slickened with sweat, placing her more firmly in this reality. 

What was it that Consantine told me to do when this happens?

Right. Five things that I can see. 

Her eyes venture towards the ocean. She sees Steph, running after a cornhole bag. Jason with his bright watermelon trunks taking a short pee break in the water. A seagull flies above them all, cawing rather obnoxiously. Kori doing… some kind of new viral dance she knows she told her about before but wasn’t really listening. And Damian…

He’s getting ready for another throw, feeling the cornhole bag with his fingers to find the perfect hold. With an easy smirk on his face he plants his feet in the sand and readies his toss. A burst of wind blows by them, ruffling his hair, but he’s focused on the board in front of him.

She watches his muscles flex as he draws his arm back. Then with a steady toss the sand bag lands and slides across the board before sinking straight in the hole, all in one fluid movement. 

Kori claps, as Damian looks over. Their eyes meet. Raven gives him a smile, if a bit forced, but not wanting to raise concern. 

She breaks eye contact first with another uneasy breath. 

Keep going. Four things I can feel. 

One, obviously her toes in the sand. She wiggles them anyway for emphasis. The water bottle, now at her collar bone. The silk of her kimono sliding off her shoulder, and her back against the beach chair. Her breaths are becoming easier, more measured.

Okay, three things I can hear. 

The seagull is still cawing. Waves crashing. Music, somewhere in the distance—near the pier. 

Great, two things I can smell.

She breathes in deep, focusing on the scents in the air. Sea salt, and… sunscreen. She remembers now she had lathered up earlier. 

One thing I can taste. 

She unscrews the caps of her water bottle and takes a sip, relishing in the way it cools her throat. 

It surprises her how much it grounds her. Before she hadn’t even cared enough to try. At least now she can pull herself out of her episodes. For the most part anyway. 

“Raven?” Damian is suddenly just a few steps away from her with furrowed brows. Behind him the others gaze over in their direction with concern, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fi—” she stops herself, reminded of their earlier conversation. The anguish that had been in his eyes, wanting to do whatever he could to help her—devastated that she had been shutting him out. She takes a shallow breath and tries again. 

“I had a flashback…” she admits, one hand gripping the arm of her chair tightly, “but I think I’m out of it now. You guys can keep playing.” 

“Do you need someone to stay with you?” he prods gently, his piercing green eyes never leaving hers. 

“No, I think I’ll be okay now, I promise.” 

Damian gives her a look that tells her he’s not convinced. “Why don’t you come play with us? I’ll show you how to throw, and it will be good for you to get up for a few minutes.”

She considers his suggestion, then gives him the barest hint of a smile, “I’d hate to make you lose against Jason. He’ll never let you live it down if you do.” 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he throws back at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

A burst of wind blows through his curly strands when he stretches out his hand. After hesitating another moment, she relents and uncurls her hand to place it in his. 

“Maybe just for a few minutes,” she says. So this Damian likes cornhole, maybe she should do her due diligence by trying to learn a game he enjoys. 

He gives her a smile of approval and she shoves down the feeling of warmth and satisfaction in favor of stoicism. As much as she wants to lean into him and all that this reality has to offer she hesitates—because it still feels like it can all be torn away from her at any moment. 

Another wind of salty air gently blows away those thoughts as Damian’s hand tightens around hers while the other reaches around her waist to help her stand. Raven’s used to his touch by now and accepts his help graciously, even if a little unnerved by how much energy it’s taking her just to stand. 

Wiggling her toes in the sand for a moment, she uses her feet to push up, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness and black splotches in her vision. She blinks it all back, intent on making it out to the edge of the water, to where the sand is harder and wet. 

Damian lets go of her but stays within arms reach, ever patient with the time it takes her to get her bearings. 

Don’t be ridiculous, we’re just walking. This shouldn't be a big deal right? 

So why does it feel like she’s running a marathon? 

Stop being so weak and pathetic.

“Hey Raven! Have you come to save us? We’re losing by two points, and if we sink this next toss we’ll be ahead by one!” Steph yells over at her with a wave as both Kori and Jason give her matching smiles. 

“Hey sunshine, got so bored you decided to come over just to get your ass beat too?” he waggles his brows at her over his sunglasses, laughing when Damian kicks sand up at him, 

“The game’s not over yet Jason. Anything can happen.”

“Mhmm sure, and Santa Claus could be real.” 

“Ignore him Raven, don’t let him fool you! He’s as much a piss-poor loser as he is a winner,” Steph calls out ahead of them, sticking her tongue out when Jason flips her off. 

“O-kay,” Damian cuts them both off when they reach their board, “the goal is to get all of our bags in the hole if you can, and if not then on the board. It’s one point if it lands on the board, three if it lands in the hole…”

Damian demonstrates by tossing a bag, everyone watching as it hits the board, sliding straight up and dropping right in. Jason curses as Steph laughs. 

“The first team to get exactly twenty-one points wins, but the other team's points will cancel out yours. So whoever gets more at the end of the round wins that round and gets to throw first.” 

Raven watches as Steph begins to reset the board, taking out all the cornhole bags and separating by their respective colors before handing Kori hers. 

“Jason likes to sabotage. There’s a good chance that if you have two or more bags on the board that Jason will throw away one of his to try and knock them all off,” Damian says. 

“Just the way the game rolls sweetcheeks. You could do the same to mine,” Jason shrugs. 

Damian ignores him, “Right now we have twenty points and Jason and Kori have nineteen. Since I won that round, Steph will start the round next and Kori will go after, but you take turns after each throw.” 

“But you can’t go over twenty-one or else you have to start all the way back at thirteen!” Steph yells. 

“I think I understand,” Raven chews her lower lip, “maybe I’ll watch a round or two first.” 

“Take all the time you need, just let me know when you’d like to try,” Damian responds in earnest, “It’s Steph and Kori’s turn now so we get a short break.” 

Raven nods, turning to watch the others and wraps an arm around herself. The sound of crashing waves to her left gains her attention and she looks out across the ocean again. Allowing her mind to drift, it takes her somewhere different this time. Back to the memory she seemed to inherit when she and Damian had kissed here for the first time. Even now she recalls the way his lips felt on her own and the way her heart leapt in her chest when he had wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. 

Those same arms had caught her when she had fallen after teleporting to Nanda Parbat. They were strong and confident and had held her when she was at her weakest. 

They had carried her off the beach, all the way up to the bedroom without hesitation. 

Raven blinks, turning back to the group and catching Damian’s eyes. He gives her a gentle smile that she tries her best to return. 

He doesn’t even know that he’s carrying her now—the weight of her burdens and her past. 

“Ready to try? Kori just won the game so we can practice for fun,” Damian says, holding out a rainbow bean bag. 

Raven reaches out for it, “I might need some help with my stance,” she says, gesturing for Damian to assist.

“Of course, stand here,” he points to a spot beside the corn hole board, then drags a foot by making a line in the sand, “and try not to go past this line when you toss.” 

She obliges, and Damian slowly eases a hand on her hip. His touch sends a warmth through her body that makes her cheeks heat, and she’s thankful that Damian isn’t able to see her face right now. He steps behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he guides her arm back. 

When he freezes Raven looks back at him with concern, her heart jumping in her chest—but he shakes his head just as fast and looks down at her, 

“The hardest part is gauging how much of an arch you need in your throw to get it to land on the board right,” he says. 

As he continues to guide her throw Raven realizes that Damian knows a lot about cornhole. 

“How do you know all of this?” she asks as they wind back their throw together. 

“Richard taught me,” he says, voice low in her ear, “this isn’t the first time I’ve been sent away by father on a vacation.” 

She believes him. 

When she lets go of the bag it goes flying into the air, landing right in the middle of the board with a splat. 

“Looks like you’re a natural,” Damian says, and Raven can hear the pride in his voice. She refuses to acknowledge the faint blush adorning her face. She also notices that Damian hasn’t stepped away. 

“Actually, it feels like I’ve done this before…” she says, then twists backwards to look at him, “have I?” 

Damian’s brows furrow, “... we’ve played a few times before…” he looks up and past her, unseeing, “we usually played as a team against Kori and Richard.” 

Something about his words feels familiar—like there’s something out there just beyond her reach. A piece of knowledge or truth that she hasn’t quite unveiled. If she could just focus on it… 

It slips away before she can chase it, like sand falling through her fingers. 

“Thank you for teaching me—again,” she adds without thought, caught by the way his eyes bore into hers with a sudden intensity that nearly takes her breath away. 

“Raven…” Damian’s eyes search hers, looking for something she’s not sure she can give. She holds her breath as he seems to be at war with himself, fighting over what he wants to tell her.

 “... you don’t have to thank me,” he says after a moment. 

She wonders if she should push him into telling her what he really wanted to say. She wonders if she even wants to know. 

In the end, she decides to let it go. 

“Alright,” she says instead, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. 

“Come on, let’s head back for some lunch,” he says, reaching out his hand. 

Raven doesn’t say anything, but she does place her hand in his, marveling at how well it fits. He squeezes hers reassuringly, and together they walk back towards their beach chairs and umbrella. 

The entire way there Raven struggles with how none of this feels real anymore. 

.

“How about a group walk on the beach tonight?” Kori asks everyone at dinner, which is really more of a charcuterie board than anything. Veggies and fruits, cheeses and crackers and other light snacks fill the entire table. Damian had spent about half an hour setting it all up. 

Steph crunches down on a baby carrot and gives her a thumbs up.

“Yeah that sounds good to me, I’m always down for a starry night stroll,” Jason says beside her, popping a strawberry in his mouth. 

“What about you two?” Kori asks, her attention now on Raven and himself. 

Damian looks over to Raven, catching the slight pique of interest in her eyes and resists a smile, “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea,” he replies.

“Great!” Kori claps her hands together, “it’ll be so fun!” 

Damian doesn’t know how fun walking will be, but he’s sure he’ll enjoy spending time with Raven. 

Although he can’t help but feel worried for her. He knows something has been off for awhile now and he can’t quite place what it is. There’s this feeling of foreboding that he can’t shake, and as long as he’s been a vigilante he knows it’s something he shouldn’t ignore. 

He also has a feeling that Bruce has the rest of the pieces to the puzzle, and that Raven is undoubtedly in the middle of it all. 

Damian decides to busy himself with cleaning the kitchen. He’s always been good at working with his hands and it helps him focus on his thoughts. 

What he doesn’t count on is Raven staying behind to help him. 

“What can I do?” she asks him. He watches as one foot shifts behind her other one in an attempt to stop her slight fidgeting. Damian gives her a warm smile to try and put her more at ease. 

“You could help wipe down the table,” he hands her a wet cloth, “I’m going to put up the rest of the leftovers. 

Raven nods, seemingly pleased to have a task and gets to work. Damian watches her start at the messiest spot—Steph’s seat, of course. 

It takes him back to another time when they would often clean together after Alfred’s dinners. Splashing water from the sink at each other whenever one of them would be put on dish duty while the other would sneak a shot in retaliation with the dish towel, rolled up in spite. 

Her rare laugh after their war would fill the kitchen, and it usually ended with him unable to resist trapping her against the counter. 

That memory is hazier now, though he still remembers the way his lips would slide against hers before she opened her mouth to him eagerly. 

He shuts it out.

The rest of the cleaning is done in silence, which he’s grateful for. Raven’s always allowed him time and never pressured him to talk. Like him, she often opted for solitude. He’s not quite sure what he would say to her right now anyway. He doesn’t want to address his concerns until he’s more confident about what’s going on. 

“We’ll be outside waiting!” Kori calls after them.

Damian finishes while Raven goes upstairs to change. He’s putting the last plate in the dishwasher when she comes back down. She’s wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. 

He frowns at her, then gestures towards the couch where he had taken off his hoodie—not wanting to get the sleeves wet from cleaning, “You might get cold outside from the wind, take my sweatshirt just in case.” 

She looks like she might protest, and he expects her too, but she must think better of it because she does as he says and pulls it over her head. He swallows a smile, because it’s always a pretty sight to see her in his clothes, and turns back to start the dishwasher. Raven stays quiet, drifting towards the door where the others are. 

“Ready?” he asks when he’s finally done, walking over to join her. She nods, then walks out when he opens the door for them.

The short walk to the ocean is just as quiet, save for the methodic crashing of waves and the ongoing conversations of the others ahead of them. The moon is full and bright and it casts an ethereal glow against the water. 

They had decided to walk to the pier, about a mile away, and Damian isn’t sure that Raven would be able to make the walk. He’s not ignorant. He knows that she’s getting weaker, that another seizure is more than likely inevitable, and that he can’t do anything about it.

A few feet away Raven stops to pick something up. She holds it out to him, marveling at it. 

“It’s a scallop shell,” he says, “a lot of people around here like to make necklaces out of them.” 

“I think it’s beautiful,” she tells him. 

Damian smiles, “I think you’re beautiful.” 

Raven scoffs but says nothing as she fidgets with his sweatshirt by tucking her hands into the pockets to store her shell. Damian lets her, not wanting to push anymore than he already has about her feelings for him. 

As they walk he watches her breathing get more labored, and Raven gets more frustrated with her lack of physique. 

They get about half a mile before Damian decides to stop them. 

“Let’s turn around, it’s getting colder anyway. The others will be fine without us.”

Raven doesn’t cry often, but Damian knows she’s on the verge of tears. She lets go of a shaky breath and nods, “Alright.” 

“Here, get on my back,” he squats down so that she can get on easily. 

“I can walk back, Damian,” she responds. Damian twists back to meet her eyes, seeing that the moon has cast half of her face in shadows. 

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t overexert yourself—especially when you recently had a seizure. When we get back we can make a recovery workout plan together.” 

Sound logic and offering a future solution seems to slowly change her mind. She purses her lips, then sighs in what he thinks is defeat. 

“Fine, you win this time but I want to try this walk again. I’m going to make it to that pier,” she says, her tone final. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he grins, arms moving to tuck around her legs when she wraps them around his waist. 

“All settled?” he asks when he feels her arms wrap around his neck for support. 

She hums an affirmative, her mouth at his ear, and he has to suppress a shiver when the warmth of her breath sends goosebumps down his arms. 

He sets a steady pace, taking care with his steps to not jostle her so much. After a moment he feels Raven resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“Damian?”

“Yes, Raven?”

“Do you think things will ever feel normal again? Do you think this universe will fix itself like Constantine and Zatanna said it would?” Raven asks him as he walks. 

Damian looks up at the moon, feeling her cheek brush lightly against his neck. He focuses on that feeling, and the way that her heart beat is steady against his back. He wants to do everything he can to keep it that way. 

“I think… that if there’s anything that you taught me is that even if the odds are stacked against us, that we can still hope that a better future lies ahead—and that’s worth trying to set things right again.” 

“You’re right. I know I haven’t done much since I’ve woken up… but when we get back I want to get better,” she squeezes her arms tighter around him, “I want to make things right too.” 

“I know Raven, we will.”

Damian doesn’t know how to set her mind at ease, or if that he should tell her the truth. He doesn’t even really know where he would start. 

How does he tell her that ever since he touched her at the beach he’s remembered the flashpoint?

[failedbyfanime]

Hi, I'm choosing to remain anonymous but you can call me TL (not my real name nor my initials), I go by she/her and identify as an asexual cis-female. I do not wear cosplay when I go to Fanime and prefer to just dress in comfortable jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes. When Fanime came back in 2022, I was excited and was enjoying myself by going to all the usual things but most of all, I love going to panels. I love seeing all the passion that panelists put into putting on a great show and giving us a space to connect and laugh. 

One panel about a certain childhood cartoon game and show had a trivia show Saturday night and I volunteered to play in one of their mini games involving cornhole. There were three other attendees and me for a total of four and we were split into two teams.There was me and a lovely gentleman and the other team consisted of two other male attendees, one of whom was wearing a corn cob costume, whom I will refer to as Corncob. While my teammate and I were duking it out over the cornhole games, the panelists were getting things set up for the next mini game. 

Eventually the game ended and my teammate and I won so after we high fived each other and celebrated, we went to give the other team fist bumps for a game well played. The audience saw earlier some fake outs of the fist bumps but it was all in good fun and smiles as people went back to properly give people their deserved fist bumps. I decided to do that to Corncob knowing that I was always going to give him one after faking him out. Instead, after I faked out fist bump, as I walked by I felt a very hard and jarring smack to my gluteal area. Or in layman's terms, he hit my ass with his hand without my consent. Now, I'm not big or tall by any means. I'm a very slender and average sized woman but the impact of the hit jolted me forward and I instantly cried out very loudly and repeatedly "That's not okay, THAT'S NOT OKAY."  I said that in front of the audience who were talking amongst themselves and right in front of the long table of panelists who were engrossed in their laptops or talking to each other getting the next thing on their agenda ready. 

No one reacted. NO ONE IN THE AUDIENCE IN FRONT OF ME REACTED.  No one except my teammate who saw the whole thing happen and came to my defense. I had never lost my faith in humanity and the Fanime community as I did in that moment. He was just as in shock as I was. I remember him saying "Did you really just hit her?" I kept saying the same three words because I couldn't process what had just happened to me. He was trying to understand the situation and thought that Corncob and I knew each other. Corncob was shocked when someone saw what happened and spoke up and he immediately said he was sorry but his intent was clear. Corncob was trying to get out of the situation and escape responsibility for his actions of sexually assaulting me. 

My teammate helped me get my stuff and we left the room to find a staff member. I was pretty much still in shock and close to having a panic attack. We left the room and told a staff member what happened who then radioed for someone. My teammate gave them the story and wished me well before heading back into the room to watch the rest of the panel.

I was led to the panelists' room where there was a female staff member and refreshments for all the panelists. I sat down, feeling everything at this point. I had brought with me a plushy of one of the marine/arctic creatures (based on a mythical creature from Scotland) of the childhood game that I grew up playing and just hugged her and started sobbing. I could feel the impact of the hit to my gluteal area, his hand on my body from the split second, and the pain from my bad left knee from when I braced myself after being hit to prevent me from falling. Soon after, a male staff member and a female staff member from con ops came and introduced themselves and took my story. I couldn't get through it without crying and the female staff member comforted me and held my hand as I recounted the story. After we were done, I received both their phone numbers and the female staff member and a different male staff member escorted me out to my car. 

As we were leaving, I saw that the panel was just letting people out but there was the male con op staffer and his superior as well as security who were right by the door as attendees were leaving. The female staff member told me that they were there to kick Corncob out for the rest of Fanime for that year. She quickly rushed me out as I didn't want to see him or start crying again in public. I made it to my car and drove home.

The next morning, after I spent the night not sleeping, I texted the male con op staffer and asked if I would be safe to come back to the con. I also enquired what had happened to Corncob. He texted saying that he wasn't allowed to give me any further information other than Corncob was talked to and escorted out of the convention. He also stated that I was safe from him. I sure as hell did not feel safe whatsoever. 

Fast forward to 2023, I was excited but cautiously optimistic about going back to Fanime and enjoying myself. I was walking back from the parking garage from dropping off some Artist Alley goodies and Vendor Hall purchases to my car when I saw Corncob. He was still in the exact same costume that he had assaulted me in. I instantly froze and started to hold my breath to the point of nearly passing out. I waited for Corncob and his friend who was wheelchair bound to walk out of my sight before I tried to calm myself down. I wasn't able to so I found the closest person to con-ops I could who was a lady in a yellow polo from the contracted security Fanime hired who saw that I was very clearly in a panic attack and helped me behind the curtained area where badge pick up had wrapped up for the day. She caught me as my knees gave out and I was sobbing and hyperventilating. She was incredibly kind and stayed with me while radioing for help and for someone from con-ops to come. From here, I don't remember much other than a female con-ops staffer came and we talked. As I was leaving the curtained off badge pick up area, there he was at a distance. Corncob and his friend were near the main entrance. I fell back into another panic attack and the staff member pulled me into the badge pick up area when she saw him in front of me. Eventually, he left the con for the night and the staff member asked what panels I was going to be attending for the rest of the weekend so she made a note that Corncob wasn't allowed to attend those panels and that I was allowed to enter the rooms early so I can make sure for my safety that he wasn't there.

The next day, I was browsing Idris' closet, doing some thrift shopping because I found some nice clothes and dresses. I was rounding the corner and ran almost smack dab into Corncob and his friend. By smack dab, I mean by five feet from my face. I ran back further into the room to find the alterations staffer whom I had talked to earlier that weekend and was trying to tell her what was happening and helped me hide as she also radioed for help and another staffer helped me into the room adjacent to give me space to have my third panic attack of the weekend. The staffer helped me calm down and took my mind off the situation. A different con-ops staffer came in (she was dressed as Maleficent) and talked to me about what happened. I told her that I thought that Corncob was banned from ever coming back to Fanime after what had happened to me with the sexual assault. She told me that unfortunately unless he has a police report against Corncob, Fanime as an NGO could not permanently ban an attendee from coming every year. She did tell me that Corncob does have a history of offenses at Fanime and this year, there was a staffer who always has eyes on him as he was on his last chance and extremely thin ice for his behavior towards both staff and other attendees. I did not see him for the rest of the convention.

As I finish writing this, I have a few thoughts. Fanime NEEDS TO DO BETTER. It shouldn't take me having to experience being sexually assaulted one year and having three panic attacks the next year just at the sight of the fucking corn costume to know that fundamentally attendees who are victims need to be protected from their perpetrator and to prevent situtions like mine from happening. 

Do I realize that I had a relatively "mild" sexual assault compared to other victim who have have much worse crimes comitted against him? Yes, I do. But it does not make me any less vocal about this. If your reaction is that I "just" had a smack on the ass and I need to get over it, I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Or any victim's shoes of having their bodies touched against their will and without their consent. I still have nightmares to this day about that one encounter and I constantly fear for my safety when I go to any cosplay convention or large groups of people. 

I was strongly considering becoming a Fanime con-ops staffer this year so I can prevent situations like mine and worse from happening. However, with all the stories of top management screwing things up and departments receiving less support than what even retail workers would get, I'm hesitant. We are just about a month out and I'm still contemplating whether or not to apply for this year, next year, or just waiting until the situation gets better for those who help run Fanime.

Two things to note, the staff who helped me in 2022 and 2023 were nothing less than phenomenal to me. They constantly took care of me, even if they couldn't give me the answers I wanted due to bullshit policies, they people themselves were supportive and I couldn't get through the situations without them. If you are reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I returned back to the panel in 2023 and spoke to the panelists who were shocked to meet me and even more shocked to see that I returned. They were extremely apologetic and made very notable changes after they had learned of my assault right in front of them the year prior and had taken no actions. They learned, they adapted, and they made things better and safer from not just me, but everyone who attended their hilarious panel. That needs to be the standard response that Fanime needs to have towards these kinds of situations. Will that make things hard on attendees for a little bit? Yes, but will it make things safer for everyone? Also yes. 

My last thought on all of this is if you see something, DO SOMETHING.

[backbonebar]

Sipping and Savoring: How to Find the Best Beer Bar on Gold Coast

The Gold Coast is home to a thriving craft beer scene, with many breweries and beer bars offering a wide range of tasty brews to choose from. Whether you're a seasoned beer connoisseur or just looking for a new place to relax and unwind, finding the best beer bar on the Gold Coast can be a fun and rewarding experience. With so many options, it can be overwhelming to know where to start. At Gold Coast Bar, you can choose your drink according to your preference.

Types of Beer Bars

If you're a beer enthusiast or just looking to try something new, Gold Coast has the perfect bar for you. Here are some of the different types of beer bars you can find in the Gold Coast:

Brewery Taprooms

Gold Coast is home to many breweries, and most have taprooms where you can drink fresh beer straight from the source. It is a great option if you want to learn about the brewing process and taste a variety of beers all in one place.

Beer Gardens

Beer gardens are outdoor spaces where you can enjoy a pint in the fresh air. They're usually located near parks or other green areas and often have games like cornhole or ping pong. These are casual places to relax with friends and soak up the sunshine.

Wine Bars

Wine bars typically have a more sophisticated atmosphere than other bars and have an extensive list of wines to choose from. Wine bars are perfect for date night or happy hour with co-workers.

Sports Bars

Sports bars are great places to watch the game with friends while enjoying beers. You can usually find big screens broadcasting all the major sporting events.

Tips for selecting the perfect pint

Gold Coast is home to some of the best beer bars in Australia. Here are a few tips to help you find the perfect pint at Gold Coast bar:

·       Research local breweries and beer bars:  Start by looking up breweries and beer bars in your area. Check out their websites and social media profiles to get a feel for their offerings and atmosphere. 

·       Seek recommendations:  Ask friends, family, and co-workers about their favorite breweries and beer bars on the Gold Coast. You can also join online forums or ask locals on social media for their thoughts. 

·       Consider the atmosphere & look for a variety of beer options: When choosing a Gold Coast bar, think about the atmosphere you want. A good beer bar should have a wide selection of beers on tap and in bottles or cans.

By following these tips, you'll be well to finding the perfect Gold Coast bar for sipping and savouring the best brews the region offers.

Conclusion

Finding the best Gold Coast bar such as Backbone Bar is a fun and rewarding experience. By doing some research, seeking out recommendations, considering the atmosphere, and looking for a variety of beer options, you can find a spot that fits your preferences and tastes. Whether you're a seasoned beer connoisseur or just looking for a new place to relax and unwind, the Gold Coast has plenty of breweries and beer bars to choose from. So, take the time to explore and discover the many tasty brews the region has to offer.

[figuerockfaeth]

.

[darling-i-read-it]

Confessional

Father Paul (John) x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: making out in a confessional box, I didn’t go full nsfw but the implication is surely there, religious blasphemy,

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy darling <3

Requested; by anon, requests are open? heck yeah lol☺️ ok so i’m gonna try to not be vague but i’m not good with turning thoughts into words so bear with me 😬 so i would like to request father paul x reader inspired by that one part of into you by ariana grande where it’s like “got everyone watching us so baby let’s keep it secret a little bit scandalous but baby don’t let them see it” cuz that part of the song reminded me of him lol. so like maybe there’s a function at the rec center and like the whole town is there and reader keeps trying to sneak off with him but everyone keeps just trying to talk to him about things and obviously they can’t be obvious about their relationship so it’s hard to like get his attention but eventually they are able to sneak off somewhere private (😏) and idk maybe it gets a little nsfw? sorry if this is bad, again i’m not that good at turning thoughts into words but thats basically it. thanks ☺️☺️

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The church was gorgeous this afternoon. It was arguably the prettiest thing in the town. The island was filled to the brim with so many different places, the same every town had. A movie theater that was crawling with teenagers wanting to slink away from their parents. Grocery stores where prices were too high that smelled faintly of stale bread. The church was what the money was poured into.

The wooden pews were hard against your back. Father Paul would finish off this sermon and then he would be letting everyone go to enjoy the festivities of the afternoon. You weren’t listening. If you listened you feared your face would give away your emotions. Even just looking at John sent you spirialing. You were positive that your cheeks would flush and the entire church would know how you felt, they would know how you would be doing.

You didn’t even want to come in the first place. However, this town was far too small to skip out on something everyone attended.

John finally stopped speaking and let everyone go. You wouldn't’ even have noticed had everyone not rushed up to the festivities. It was a sort of carnival the church held every year, with a bible spin on it. All of the games had something to do with Jesus and the food had witty names that only Beverly Keane could make up.

Before you were even standing John was beside you.

“Was I boring you?” he asked. You jumped, clutching your heart.

“How did you get over here so fast?”

“I’ve been watching your, rather slow, movements while I was speaking. I was eager to speak with you.” You smiled softly and brushed a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes watched your finger as it moved, already worried that by touching him you were giving away the love affair the two of you were keeping. You brought your hand back to yourself quickly, clearing your throat.

“I couldn’t watch you with the hair out of place,” you lied easily.

“No lying in the church.”

“Oh I would never.” You just stood across from each other in silence for a moment as everyone started to file out of the church. You opened your mouth to ask him what his plans for the afternoon were when Beverly interjected.

“Father Paul are you going to start off the games? The kids are eager to see you,” she said in a stout way. You looked over at her, certain she could see right through you. Beverly was the least of your worries. She is the one that wouldn’t dare hurt her precious Monsieur, not even if he was making constant mistakes she would count as sins.

“Yes of course. I’ll see you out at the cornhole games?” he questioned. You nodded, smiling sheepishly.

“Looking forward to it.”

===

Erin handed you a cup of warm apple cider. You didn’t look at her as you grabbed it, instead watching as John played with the children and spoke with their parents.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“Of course.” You looked over at her. Her black curls were stringy on her shoulders, her face seeming skinnier than usual. You cursed yourself internally for not even paying attention to your friend.

“Everything okay Erin? You look pale.” She nodded, swallowing. Her expression betrayed her.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I won’t push if you don’t want me too but it does look like you’re slightly unnerved.”

“Unnerved? Who says that,” she said quietly. You shrugged.

“It was the best descriptor that I could think of.” Her lips tugged up around her teeth, flashing the smallest smile.

“Someone is staring at you.” You raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze. John was having a conversation with one of the mothers of the little girls. You didn’t know her well but you knew she owned a shop downtown that sold soaps. She was speaking to him with a lot of conviction for him to be stealing glances at you.

“I promised to bring a casserole and I didn’t,” you said swiftly. She nodded, bringing her cider up to her lips. She sipped loudly.

“Go on. Apologize.”

You met John’s eyes and he quickly acted like he hadn’t been looking. You looked down at your cider and then nodded.

“I should do that.”

You weaved through the crowd of people. By the time you got to him some other mom with some other problem had started to talk to him. You put your hand on his arm, causing both him and the mother to turn to you. They had very different facial expressions.

“I”m sorry but I was wondering if I could steal Father Paul away,” you said with an innocent grin.

“Ah yes, of course,” the mother said, though with each word she seemed to get more appalled with the idea. You nodded once and looked up at him.

“I’m afraid the matter is personal, is there somewhere we could go to speak?” you questioned. He looked down at you, trying to read your intentions.

“There’s the confessional,” the mother intruded. You held back the snort and John nodded slowly.

“Yes, that will work. Will you tell everyone I’ll be back soon?” he asked. She nodded and then started to walk back towards the church. You stayed in step with him, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. You didn’t dare speak until you were inside the church walls.

There was no one inside. The candles at the front were still lit, dripping wax onto the desk. You walked up to and then leaned against the confessionals.

“How long has it been since your last confession?” he questioned. He walked up to you, looking down at you with intimidating challenging eyes. You were pressed flat against the confessional box.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me that when I’m in there and we can’t see each other?” you questioned. He nodded slowly and opened up the door. You slinked inside, sitting down on the small chair in there.

John stepped into your box, shutting the door behind him. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, your head closer to his crotch then his lips.

“Aren’t you meant to be..” you whispered, meaning for your voice to be louder than it came out being, “...in that box.” You pointed your finger against the wall.

“What was it you needed to talk about so privately?” he asked, though his voice didn’t have a hint of annoyance.

“I just wanted to get you away,” you said honestly. “Give you a moment to breathe. Though I suppose you can’t breathe much in these confined quarters.” His pants were unbearably close to your face. You cleared your throat, trying to keep your eyes on his eyes but they were so high up and your head was getting tired from looking up.

“I appreciate the thought.” He leaned down and squated on his knees so that you were at the same eye level. You must have released a small breath of relief because he raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You fiddled with your fingers, feeling the stale quiet air around you. “How about you? Are you alright?”

“I’m used to the church parties.”

“You would be.”

“So you have nothing you want to confess?” You tried not to let that turn you on but he knew what he was doing. He stood up again. You took a deep breath and leaned back, shaking your head slowly.

“No. I have nothing to say to you John.” You stood up just to meet his eyes again. Before you were even completely steady his lips were on yours. You breathed in the breath he was breathing out. It was like he was attacking you with affection. You had the air knocked out of your chest and stumbled against the wall.

He grabbed your leg and hiked it up around his waist. You wrapped your arms around him to steady yourself. There was a rush of eagerness and emotions that was cut quickly short by the church door swinging open. John let you go and you plopped down on the seat. He gasped, kneeling down.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, nervously. You nodded, laughing gently.

“A bit bruised but okay.”

“Father Paul?” It was Beverly Keane. Damn Beverly Keane to hell.

“I am taking a confession!” he called, through the box.

“You’re really rather needed outside. How much longer do you think you’ll be?” He closed his eyes, hands on yours sides.

“Not long,” he said. “I’ll be right there.” She was waiting. You didn’t hear the door open and shut. You let out a sigh and shook your head.

“Later,” you promised. “I’ll meet you out there.” “Don’t do anything without me,” he said offhandedly as he opened the door and stepped out. You flushed, looking down at your hands. You waited for the door to open and shut before leaving the box.

You fixed your skirt and walked out.

[fruitcoops]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

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

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because—y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 25)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 24) (series masterlist)

almost every summer of your life, you spent at the beach.

and while you loved it each and every year, a place that served as a safe space you always so desperately needed, a part of you also knew it wasn’t a choice.

you came here because your parents sent you, because they didn’t want you with them and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

you’d spent those years feeling completely unwanted and terrified of everyone and everything; thinking at any given moment, someone was gonna hurt you. that no one cared about your thoughts or feelings or even your existence.

and you’d grown used to that mentality for so long. you were sad and hurt and just living day to day with that knowledge because what else could you do?

but now, you don’t even get the chance to think like that. because you have so many people around you as a reminder that you’re not alone anymore. 

you have your aunt who, from day one, you always knew was there for you. 

you have yunho and san who served as the people who were patient and caring from the second they met you, made you feel at ease when you were so obviously uncomfortable in a new environment. 

you have hongjoong and jongho who always make you smile and laugh despite whatever mood you’re in. 

you have wooyoung, mingi and yeosang who, while you might’ve gotten off to a bumpy start, have proved time and time again how much they care about you. how they’ll ruin anyone who tries to mess with you now and have seen the error in their ways. 

you have seonghwa who, despite everything he’s done, has always loved you. made you the happiest a person could be but also maybe the lowest; though even with that, you were able to get past it. 

he showed you how to love but also how to be loved, a concept you truly never experienced until him. how much power that feeling has over a person and once you see that it’s something completely pure and real, it could help heal a person.

but that’s not to say it completely healed you because you know that’s just not how it works. you still have your doubts and anxieties and some long-lasting trauma that you’ll have to work through. but he makes it easier, everyone makes it a little easier because you know they’re there to listen. 

you know seonghwa could take one look at you and just know you’re having a bad day, place a kiss on your forehead and comfort you in the form of your head on his chest and his hand rubbing your back. 

but for the most part, these long summer days have been amazing. even seonghwa thinks so, despite the way his friends have been staying at his house, stealing his food and giving him a headache more often than not.

“can someone please go on the ferris wheel with me!”

the loud bustling of the summer carnival truly rivaled the youngest boy’s whines, sick and tired of them all standing around and attempting to win a giant teddy bear for the past thirty minutes.

“jongho, if you ask one more time i’m gonna-”

“can someone PLEASE go on the ferris wheel with me!”

you let out a small sigh as you look at the boy, his eyes focusing right on you when he sees he finally has your attention. 

“please, y/n, we’ve just been standing here. they’re never gonna win.”

“yes we will!” mingi, wooyoung and hongjoong blurt out, causing you to snort and jongho to shake his head; it takes just one more look from him, one of pure and utter devastation, for you to give him a small smile and nod. 

an excited yelp leaves his mouth and he grabs your hand, fully prepared to pull you away and lead you to every ride possible. but then you stop in his hold and his head snaps back to see seonghwa’s arm wrapped around your waist, his mouth in your ear asking where you think you’re going. 

“she’s coming with me!” jongho says, “we wanna go on rides, not wait around for a stupid teddy bear.”

“it’s not stupid, you’re stupid,” hongjoong snaps, eyes narrowed as he aims a dart at a purple balloon. 

“seonghwa, please,” jongho whines, tightening his hold on your hand and attempting to tug you away from him. but the dirty blonde only narrows his eyes at his friend, eyes moving to see you looking at him in amusement. 

“come with us,” you say sweetly, despite the way you’re being pulled, almost painfully, in two different directions. 

“you know i get dizzy, baby,” he whines, a giggle leaving your mouth as you cock your head to the side. 

“ah, that’s right, forgot i was dating an old man,” you quip playfully, his eyes narrowing and his hold on you tightening. he tugs you closer and your hand gets pulled out of jongho’s, the boy behind you letting out a groan as he flails in a circle.

“y/n! apologize to him, god damn it, and let’s go! seonghwa, she didn’t mean it.”

“oh, i think i did though,” you tease, the smile pulling at seonghwa’s lips making you bite down on your lip. 

“you’re pushing it, you know that don’t you?” 

but you only roll your eyes as you turn in his hold, lifting on your toes to peck his lips sweetly. he meets the kiss and keeps it as chaste as possible, smiling against your lips before you pull back and look at him with one of your own. 

“we’re gonna go now,” you say, “are you sureee you don’t wanna come old man?”

his eyes narrow at you, about to pull you into him again when jongho, now teamed up with san, pull at your hands and charge away.

“we’re going on rides! fuck you lover boy!”

seonghwa shakes his head as he hears your parting giggle, smacking wooyoung in the back of the head when he misses the balloon for the 40th time.

“you are terrible.”

“you are terrible!” you squeal to jongho, watching as he shakes the cart of the ferris wheel and sends san screaming.

the blonde had been hesitant to go on this ride in the first place, a fear of heights that has made him have mental breakdowns at amusement parks before.

but you promised that he’d be okay, and it took a little bit of begging on the line to really convince him, just for jongho to mess it all up within the first ten seconds of being secured in.

“i’m gonna scream for wooyoung to beat you up if you don’t stop,” the blonde whines, his hand clutching onto the edge of the ride desperately.

“i’m not scared of that short little man, i could easily take him.”

“i don’t know, it’s usually the small ones that are crazy,” you reason, overlooking the calm evening sky despite the vigorous shaking beneath you.

“stop!” san yelps.“please, you little shit!” and now you can really hear the anxiety and fear cracking in the blonde’s voice.

“no more!” you scold, pinching jongho’s arm and watching his face pull into a pout. “stop! or we’re not going on anything else.”

and even though your threat was empty, because you wanted to go on more, it did the trick. you three bounced around to every and any ride you could get on, even the ones that weren’t san approved; he just shut his eyes tightly and screamed directly into your ear.

but you and the youngest had your heads thrown back in laughter, your hair zipping through the wind with your arms up in a sight seonghwa watched with a smile.

he was leant against the side of a booth, blueberry slushy in hand drowning out the sound of the boys arguing over who gets custody of the giant teddy bear.

“i was the one who popped it!”

“but we all paid for it!”

“you only popped it because we loosened it.”

“you can’t loosen a balloon dickface.”

your happy squeal rips him away from the nonsense bickering, your eyes finding his as you immediately run to him. 

“you should’ve came, it was so much fun!”

“yeah?” he says, offering you a sip from his slushie. you take the straw between your lips with a smile, sucking down the sugary blueberry before pulling back.

“that’s good.”

he smiles when he sees a blue speck on your lip, wiping it off with a delicate swipe of his thumb and soft look in his eyes. he knows you have your good days and bad days, the former more often than not during these past few weeks, but he can’t help but love the good days.

when he gets to see the smile he was robbed of for the first few weeks of knowing you and then again the first few months after reuniting. but now it’s like he makes it a personal mission everyday to see it; not even for his own enjoyment but to know you’re genuinely having a good, happy day. 

“your hair’s a mess,” he chuckles out, voice deep and amused as he runs his fingers through your knotty hair. but you only narrow your eyes at him and take the slushie from his hand, pecking his cheek quickly before running over to see the $100 carnival prize you eventually get custody of.

you remember how uncomfortable you felt at the first bonfire you went to, when yunho’s bright smile or hongjoong’s charisma or jongho’s funny antics did little to calm you. 

you remember being scared of seonghwa, the way he watched you with emotionless eyes and nearly threw a water bottle in your hand with demands for you to take it. you had usually felt out of place but it really stuck out that night to you, watching everyone talk and laugh and bond around a crackling fire. 

you never would’ve thought that, just a year later, you’d be around one of your own. laughing and giggling and kissing your boyfriend around a fire with people you felt comfortable and safe with. with people you went to, what felt like, hell and back with but came out okay. 

more than okay, really. 

because you watch wooyoung and san shove each other lovingly, two people who also overcame struggles in a strained relationship. you watch all of the boys with the blonde, once tumultuous and non-existent friendships that were able to blossom again. 

you watch from mingi’s shoulder seonghwa and yunho play cornhole, giggling when you see that after a year, yunho’s skills with the game still haven’t quite improved - and that’s obvious in the way the four boys charge down to the ocean.

“okay, honestly, he might’ve gone worse,” you mumble to mingi, the boy scoffing lightly and pushing you off his shoulder playfully.

“leave him alone,” he whines, a soft smile on your face that causes him to roll his eyes in embarrassment. you giggle and knock your arm into him, looking around the dark beach with a sense of tranquility. 

you always loved the beach at this time, that solitary part of you itching to feel the cold sand between your toes and hear the gentle lull of the waves with no one’s presence but your own.

but you wait until the boys are occupied, until mingi eventually sneaks over to yunho and defends him against everyone’s harsh insults; you also saw san and wooyoung go down to the ocean a few minutes ago, the blonde not having learned in his lesson from back in febuary.  

so it’s then that you quietly sneak away, catching your boyfriend’s eye and he already knows where you’re headed off to.

you make your way to the cliff you became well acquainted with during these types of events, watching your feet in the sand before you climb your way up and shimmy toward the end. 

you watch the waves crash under the bright moonlight as your pelt with memories, good and bad. how this beach marks almost every journey you and seonghwa went on together from first meeting, 

“you don’t talk a lot.”

his eyebrow raises at your comment, turning to look at you and the close eye-contact causes you to sharply inhale; he smells good, like the beach and cologne.

“neither do you,” he counters, “i don’t even know your name.”

your eyebrows furrow together, turning your neck to the side as you realize you haven’t told any of them your name yet. “i thought it was seonghwa,” he finds himself saying with a smirk, your confused gaze prompting him to speak again.

“you looked back when yunho said it yesterday.”

“oh,” you giggle awkwardly, remembering turning around in your flustered state and seeing him looking at you from your front yard. “no. my name isn’t seonghwa,” you tell him before telling him your real one.

he hums at the information, eyes roaming your face before his eyebrow quirks up again.

“so, why’d you come tonight, y/n?”

to your first kiss,

“...so i’ve never done this before.”

he hears the way nerves and embarrassment seep into your voice, looking at him wide-eyed with pink cheeks and now he’s really never wanted to kiss someone more in his life.

it’s why he takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks and causing a breathy exhale to leave your mouth. “good,” he says, his thumbs stroking your face as he leans down and presses a feather light kiss to your lips.

it feels almost like nothing but still shocks you, not even having the time to close your eyes before you’re looking at him again; because that was one thing you knew, you knew you weren’t supposed to kiss someone with your eyes open.

“g-good?” you squeak after a few seconds, not even sound enough to feel embarrassed by the shake and waver in your voice.

“good,” he confirms and if the look on his face and smirk on his lips didn’t make you weak enough, his next words absolutely do.

“i wanna be your first.”

to your first confessions and vulnerable moments,

“i…don’t really know why you like me,” you say with a hiccup, “you could probably be with any girl ever who’s a lot prettier and more…experienced and-”

“don’t,” seonghwa growls lowly, his thumb running over your face sweetly. “no one’s prettier than you.”

your eyes widen and you want a laugh to bubble out of you but for some reason you can’t. you can only pout and look at him with your glossy eyes, your stupid little self feeling sad and insecure all of the sudden.

“that’s a lie,” you tell him softly as you shake your head. “no one thinks that. no one ever really likes me, actually.” you wanna say that not even your own parents or classmates like you, that no one has ever looked your way and actively cared about you felt.

“i do,” seonghwa hums, his heart hurting because he hates that you feel this way. “i liked you the second i saw you.” you look up at him and feel your eyes water, the softness and sincerity in his words causing a lump to form in your throat.

to even the heavier stuff, when you really weren’t sure if you two were gonna make it this far. 

“i don’t know what i want,” you admit quietly, confused because there’s the matter of trust at hand making this process incredibly daunting. but you also can’t escape the one fact you knew was true this whole time, no matter how much you didn’t want it to be because you were so sad and hurt.

“but i know that i’m still yours.”

he doesn’t think he’s ever felt the feeling that rips through his chest when you say that, an overwhelming, all consuming feeling that would’ve knocked him on his ass if he didn’t have some sort of hold on you.

he has to stop himself from completely breaking down in front of you, shaking his head and holding back a cry as he pulls you into his chest.

“you really shouldn’t be fucking saying that to me,” he mumbles against your head, his voice tight and throat constricting as he tries to keep his shit together. “i don’t deserve to hear that.”

you pull away and meet his gaze, his eyes wide and teary and full of such love you can see clear as day. you reach up with a small, sad smile and brush your hand through his hair, longer pieces of dirty blonde on the top such a contrast to the short, shaven ones he had during the summer.

“maybe not,” you say quietly, head cocking to the side as your wide eyes meet his. “but it’s how i feel.”

but you think that’s maybe why you’ve grown to love this beach town just a little bit more. 

because it not only shows the story of you and him but also of you as a person. someone who came here sad and lonely and a shell of a girl but was able to blossom into someone who, for the most part, was genuinely happy and content with life.

and you never thought you’d be able to say you were happy with your life. that you felt like you belonged anywhere or with anyone because you were just always in the way. 

but you see now that that’s not the case. you see that you were never the issue but your environment was. an environment your mind still drifts back to and makes your heart sink, wondering what went so wrong in your parents lives for them to act the way they do.

to never, not once, contact you or your aunt ever again to see if you were okay or adjusting well; but you try not to dwell on that. you try not to think about and dwell on things like that anymore. 

because you’re in a better place and have more than enough people who care about you and-

“you have a death wish?”

your head snaps back to see seonghwa standing a few feet behind you, his tall frame looming above you as he cocks his head to the side teasingly. you can only smirk at him with pink on your cheeks, your arm reaching out for him to come over and sit next to you. 

but he plops down behind you until you’re right between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his lips mumbling into your exposed shoulder. 

“you okay, baby? i saw you sneak away.”

“yeah,” you hum lowly, taking his hand in yours so you can play with his fingers absentmindedly. “i just like it up here.”

he smiles against your head, pressing a kiss to your hair lightly as he watches you intertwine your fingers together. it’s something so small but it makes him bite back a smile, remembering when you were too scared or shy to initiate things.

but he’s watched you become more confident, not only with him but in general. the way you can hold eye contact now and your voice doesn’t always have a tremor. how you’ll kiss him sweetly before running off, like the action was so natural and immediate you didn’t think anything of it. 

he can only describe everything as easy; nothing is ever forced or feels fake. if you guys have problems now, you talk it out right away. you don’t throw his past mistakes in his face and he doesn’t ever push you to talk about something until you’re ready.

it’s at those moments you guys find yourselves here a lot, enjoying the usual quietness and tranquility of the dark beach. tonight, however, that’s not the case because even from this spot, you hear the distant screams and shouts coming from your crazy group of friends. 

“they’re so loud,” you hum quietly, seonghwa laughing against you as he nods his head and mumbles a string of expletives. 

you giggle softly and crane your neck backwards, looking at him upside down to see him already staring at you. you raise your eyebrows playfully and his deep chuckle sends your heart fluttering, his face meeting yours to place a soft peck on your nose. 

you giggle and pick yourself up, turning around so you can crawl into his lap. his arms wrap around your waist as he holds you to him, tucking a stray piece of your windblown hair behind your ear.  

“so...did you think about what your aunt said the other day?”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a sigh, knowing that you need to come to a decision but your heart hurting at both prospects. 

because when she first mentioned you transferring to the school here, you knew it made the most sense. it was only a seven minute drive and you already would have a small group of friends, hongjoong and yunho in your class and jongho in the year below. 

but then you’d have to sacrifice the school and environment you just got used to. you’d have to sacrifice your time with seonghwa and the other boys, your job at the cafe where you can’t imagine not ever working again. 

because who would work with san? you can’t let the blonde work there alone again, after seeing the after-school crowds and knowing how much he loved having someone to talk to there.

but the hour commute back and forth is rather taxing, depending on the day and traffic sometimes making it longer. and you can’t help but feel bad for seonghwa and your aunt’s gas bill - both of who never allow you to pay them back.

your aunt also thought it’d be a good idea to get a fresh start - away from a town and school full of bad memories and reminders of how life used to be.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly, pulling back from seonghwa’s shoulder to meet his gaze. “i know it makes sense to and i wouldn’t mind it,” you tell him honestly, “but...i’d miss it. i’d miss working with san and seeing the other boys everyday.”

“i know, love, but you’d still see them,” he says sweetly, “they’d probably drive out every fucking weekend for you.”

you giggle softly as you shrug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before you look at him with the smallest of pouts. “but i wouldn’t go to school with you, either. i’ll reallly miss seeing you every day.”

a low chuckle leaves his mouth before he places a firm kiss right on your lips, the way in which he does it so surely and easily still surprising you after all this time. 

“like i’m not gonna stay here every night and make the drive,” he says lowly, amused that you think he’d actually go a week without seeing you.

“then i might as well keep going,” you whine, his look hardening because he’s truthfully with your aunt on this one - he thinks being away from that town littered with bad memories and trauma, some of which he himself contributed to, would be better for you. 

but it’s your decision after all. it’s gonna be you going through the two years, not anyone else - not him or your aunt or your friends. all of them can only give gentle encouragement and be supportive of what ever decision you make. 

“it won’t matter what you pick, we’ll be okay,” he says when you two stand up, his hand in yours as he runs a hand through your hair. “and if you’re scared about starting a new school, don’t. because you’ll have yunho and jongho and hongjoong and they’d be way too fucking excited to help you and show you around.”

“but what if i meet a mean, bad boy there?” you tease lightly, eyes glinted with amusement and a smirk pulling at your lips. “like right in homeroom or something, i don’t know.”

you watch his tongue poke into his cheek as he narrows his eyes at you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“just kidding,” you squeal, his eyes rolling before he pulls him into you. 

“not funny,” he says despite the humor laced in his voice and then his lips on yours. he slips his tongue in and you smile against him, only breaking away when you hear shouts and gags from directly below you. 

“can you stop making out for five fucking seconds and play with us!” 

everyone took the news of your decision to transfer schools...differently.

whereas jongho, hongjoong and yunho tackled you in a group hug and cheered in amusement, wooyoung, yeosang and mingi resembled children who just found out santa isn’t really.

seonghwa and san watched from the side, the two boys you consulted with most and eventually shared your decision with not all surprised by these reactions.

because despite how hard it was, despite how many factors you had to consider and people you couldn’t help but think about, you felt as if this was the right choice.

it was a fresh start and closer and just made more sense. even though you’d miss the familiarity of the other school and working with your best friend every day, you know it’ll be like you’re barely gone.

because seonghwa was correct in saying the boys would come every weekend to see you, the first idea coming from their mouths after their initial heartbreak and whines.

but it didn’t lessen the blow when the last day of summer did eventually come, when you sat around the pool with seonghwa and your friends and uttered dramatic goodbyes. 

“it’s only an hour away,” seonghwa grumbled, watching san and wooyoung cling to you for the past fifteen minutes. 

“you can say that because you’re-” 

“just shut up,” seonghwa says, a sense of urgency and warning in his tone that goes unnoticed to your ears. because the whole time you say your goodbyes and hug the boys, you’re holding back tears.

tears that don’t surface until you’re back in your room with seonghwa, watching from the balcony as yeosang and mingi stick their heads out the window and wave goodbye until the car is completely out of sight.

you turn around and seonghwa’s eyes soften upon seeing your expression, wide teary eyes and lower lip threatening to wobble from holding back cries. 

“baby, it’s okay,” he mumbles against your head, tightening his hold on you when you fully slump against him and let out a few quiet whimpers; because tomorrow, he’s gonna be gone too.

the feeling isn’t as gut wrenching and consuming as it was the last time you two separated like this but you still feel sad and a little scared. you still have to face a new school tomorrow, adjust to all the different teachers and classmates while also getting used to not having your familiar circle of people. 

you’re not gonna see him everyday when you first wake up, fall asleep to him kissing your head or the sound of his heartbeat against your ear.  

“maybe it’ll be good,” seonghwa mumbles against your head, the two of you now laying in your bed under the covers. “maybe you’ll like getting a break from me.”

“no,” you immediately whine against him, a small smile on his face as you push yourself up and straddle his waist. your fingers trail down naked his chest, making figure eights on his abs in a way that makes him groan lowly. 

“why?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with a pout on your face. “will you like the break from me?”

“fuck no,” seonghwa growls out, grabbing your hips roughly so he can put you on your back. “i’ll be surprised if i make two weeks before transferring.”

you didn’t even have time to think about that being a possibility before his mouth is on yours and he’s sucking hickies into your neck. trails his lips down your stomach until he’s slipping off your shorts and you’re moaning into the crease of your elbow. 

moans that turn to muffled cries into one another’s mouths, his cock steadily fucking into you until you both come in unison. your sweaty bodies and labored breathing fill the room, you on your back and seonghwa making his way into the bathroom to get a warm rag.

you hum at the feeling of it between your legs before you’re back in his arms, your head buried in his chest as you fall asleep to the sound of his deep “i love you.”

the same one that wakes you at five a.m., his hand softly running through your hair as your eyes fluttered open. 

“i gotta go, baby,” is all he says. but it immediately makes you frown and bury yourself further into him, mumble words he can’t quite make out besides little whines of “no.”

but you do eventually pry yourself off of him, after he presses soft kisses on every bit of your face until your nose is scrunching and you’re pushing him away from you playfully.

“okay, okay,” you whine, morning grogginess still in your voice and on your face. “please call me when you get home.”

“of course, baby, how ‘bout i come back after school? to see how your first day went?”

“mm it’s okay,” you mumble tiredly, knowing you have an hour and a half left before you have to get up and get ready. “just stay till i fall back asleep, please.”

and that tiny, whiney request almost makes him wanna drop the act entirely. but he sees your heavy eyes already threatening to shut and shakes his head, waiting until your breaths even to peck your cheek and he sneaks out of your room.

you wake later to the sound of yunho’s voice, his head peeking in your room before a sigh leaves his mouth.

“y/n! we have to leave in twenty minutes!”

he watches, and is totally not helpful, as you rush around your room to get ready quickly, his head thrown back in laughter in a way that makes you smack his arm lightly. 

but you all eventually get there with a few minutes to spare, the boys walking you through your schedule and introducing you to a few more people they’re friendly with.

“everyone’s really nice,” hongjoong tells you, hoping to ease your obvious anxiety. “you’re gonna think it’s suspicious but they’re all genuinely pretty good.”

“okay that makes me feel better,” you say with a smile, the five minute warning bell making your eyes widen and stomach knot even more. “oh no.”

“it’s fine,” yunho smiles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. “i’ll walk you to homeroom, c’mon.”

he guides you through the halls until you’re standing in a doorway, the teacher in the front of the room greeting you with a small smile and saying hi to yunho. 

“this is my friend, y/n. she’s new and a little nervous so please be extra nice to her.”

the teacher rolls her eyes as she waves yunho off, warning him that he’s gonna be late just as the bell rings; she doesn’t even say a word as she walks over and grabs him a late pass, shoving it in his hand before telling him to move his ass. 

“so, y/n, was it?” she asks, looking over the paper in her hand with a curious gaze. “that’s funny, we were supposed to have two new students.”

your eyebrow raises at her statement and you think maybe you could befriend them. they’re probably just as scared as you, if not more because they don’t anyone at all. 

you think that would be nice, having another friend to get to know and help feel as ease and-

“oh, are you the other new student?” you hear the teacher ask, hearing footsteps slowly come up from behind you.

there’s a few beats of silence before chatter erupts from students, quiet mumbles about how he looks familiar and they’ve all definitely seen him before.

“yeah,” you hear the boy say and you immediately whip around at the deep voice you know so well, the handsome face that woke you this morning looking at you with soft eyes full of amusement. 

“i’m seonghwa.”

you can’t even hear the teacher welcome him or tell the other students to settle down, biting back a smile at the the way he so cockily and teasingly mouths ‘hi baby.”

complete

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @chrryhwa​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; @yeol-wish​ ; @cxcxlxlee​ ; 

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - prologue

first hellos & last goodbyes

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 3.2k

note from the writer: it’s finally here. I’m working on finishing the epilogue, but the entire series currently has a 26k word count and I’m not quite done. I’m going to have a posting schedule, I just haven’t decided whether or not to make it daily or every other day yet. let me know what you think!

JUNE

It’s warm, not unbearably so, but you were more than comfortable in your strappy sundress. You were happy, a smile evident on your face as you bounced around your aunt’s house. You were itching to help with setting up the barbecue, considering she had offered to host you for the summer while your parents took off on a well-deserved second honeymoon. Even though you were twenty, summers home from college were to be spent with family and it had been a while since you  had seen your extended family from Vancouver.

“Do you need something to do?” Your aunt asked, a grin turning up the corners of her mouth as she glanced up at you from the salad she was mixing. You smiled, nodding once before taking a sip of the beer your cousin had thrust into your hands the moment she spotted you come down the stairs. “Take these out to your uncle.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” You mock saluted, grabbing the empty platter she gestured to and slipping out the back door and onto the patio. Your uncle was standing at the grill, polo shirt tucked into cargo shorts and to complete the stereotypical barbecue dad look, he had on a baseball cap and sandals. “Special delivery.” You grinned, setting the platter down beside the grill for when the burgers and hotdogs were done. He smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of your head before releasing you and returning to his conversation with one of his buddies.

You turned, looking for your next destination when you saw your cousin Rachel, the one you were staying with that was only a few months older than you, waving you over. You smiled, crossing the yard and trying not to feel awkward under the gaze of the two brunettes that were standing with her, one boy and one girl that looked similar enough to be related.

“Hey, there you are.” Rachel squeezed you into her side much like her father did, and you reciprocated the half-hug. She introduced you to them, and you smiled politely. “And this is Tyson and Kacey, they live next door.”

“Hi.” You turned, and for the first time you let yourself take in their appearance. Kacey was smiling like a total sweetheart, but when you turned your attention to Tyson it felt as if your breath had been knocked out of you for a moment. He was grinning at you, with the widest and most charming smile that you couldn’t look away from.

You had never been one for believing in love at first sight, but there was something about Tyson and the way he was looking at you that had you questioning it. As cliché as it sounded, you genuinely felt as if the rest of the world melted away, and you were sharing a moment with him.

But as quickly as it began, it ended, and Kacey was asking you questions. Rachel pinched your side at the same time Kacey elbowed her brother, shaking both of you out of whatever daydream place you had been.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You smiled sheepishly at Kacey, punctuating your sentence with a sip of your beer and a silent prayer that no one would comment on your sudden flustered appearance. Rachel was as close to you as a sister, which meant she both adored you and loved to tease you relentlessly. Thankfully, she stayed quiet, but you did not miss the look she shot you.

“I asked where you’re from?” She repeated, and though the question was directed to you, she was eyeing her brother cautiously. He was flushed just as much as you were, maybe even more so, with the color blossoming on his cheeks and reaching the tips of his ears.

“Oh, I’m from Seattle, in the States. My parents moved there from here before I was born.” You explained with a smile, squeezing your bottle a little too hard as you tried to ignore Tyson’s gaze on you. You were barely holding it together just knowing he was there, so you did not trust yourself to meet his smile.

He hadn’t even said anything yet and you were already a blushing mess.

You chatted with them for a bit, answering questions about your classes and hometown and how much you liked Vancouver. You told them how you were working to be an elementary teacher and that had always been your dream.You asked about their lives, and were surprised to find out that Tyson was a professional hockey player in Colorado. You thought that was cool, being a fan of the sport, but after a few questions about how he was liking it and that it must be fun to travel a lot, the topic was dropped in favor of Kacey pointing out Rachel’s boyfriend Michael arriving.

He slid between you and Rachel, giving you a side-hug before wrapping an arm around Rachel’s waist and kissing her cheeks. You greeted him with a kind smile, and though you had only met him a few days prior, you could already tell how happy he was making your cousin. Introductions were made, and Kacey once more took it upon herself to question the newcomer.

“Can you, uh, show me where you got that?” Tyson spoke up, gesturing to the now-empty bottle you had just taken your last slip of. Kacey, Rachel, and Michael were in their own little conversation already, so you nodded and turned away from the group before he fell in step beside you. “So, how long are you in Vancouver?”

“I head back at the end of August.” You explained, setting your empty bottle in the bag designated for recycling before finishing your original path to the cooler. Tyson spotted it, pulling out a bottle and handing it to you before grabbing one for himself. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by one of your uncle’s calling your name, telling you to come play a game of cornhole with him and his wife, urging Tyson to be your partner.

“Are you any good?” He questioned with a grin that you easily returned, adding a nod to answer his question. He tapped his bottle to yours, leading the way through the yard to where the game was set up, glancing at you over his shoulder as he spoke next. “You better, I’m a competitive person, you know.”

“You should be nice to me, I showed you where the beer is.” You grinned, smile growing wider at the booming laugh that slipped past his lips. He moved to stand at the opposite board beside your uncle, and you weren’t sure if the warmth you felt was from his smile or the sun beating on your shoulders, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

The hours seemed to pass by in a blur. You and Tyson had come out victorious in your game, and were halfway through a rematch when the food was being served. You met up with Kacey, Rachel, and Michael after that, filling your plates before heading to the gazebo at the end of the yard to eat.

Even after that, when Rachel and Michael had slipped away and Kacey was called over by her mom, Tyson didn’t leave your side. The whole time, you were laughing with him. He was incredibly goofy, a smile never leaving his face the entire time you were with him.

You were still chatting with him as the sun started to set, and at the first sign of your shivers, he offered you the sweatshirt he had brought over with him earlier in the day. You tried to control the way your cheeks heated up, but the Colorado Avalanche sweatshirt he had given you was entirely too soft and comfortable for you to not blush after tugging it over your head.

Tyson looked as if he wanted to say something, but was once more interrupted. The soft way he was looking at you was mesmerizing, but once Rachel jumped into the gazebo his attention snapped to her with amusement in his eyes.

“Hi, so, sorry to interrupt, but you guys kind of need to go someplace grandma can’t see you.” She grinned at you, laughing breathlessly as Michael wrapped an arm around her from behind and tugged her back into his chest. You raised a brow at her in silent question, but Tyson was already standing and offering his hand to you in order to pull you to your feet. “Michael and I want to… go someplace…” You laughed at her word choice, knowing she entirely meant they wanted to go hookup somewhere. “But grandma overheard me telling mom we were heading out, and you know how she is, and she said we could only go if I took you and Tyson.”

You nodded, though you were a little distracted by the fact that Tyson still hadn’t let go of your hand. Your grandma had always been on the more conservative side in regards to relationships and whether or not you should have alone time—in the way Rachel so obviously was hinting at—before marriage.

“Have her home before midnight.” You teasingly threatened Michael, and he nodded with a chuckle. He was a good guy, you knew that, but it was still fun to give him grief. You had followed them to the front of the house, and you and Tyson watched as they drove off.

“Wanna go for a walk?” He asked, swinging your entwined hands dramatically and nodding his head in the direction of the road. You grinned, tugging him by the hand to lead him. As you walked it was silent, save for your occasional giggle as Tyson made it his mission to see just how obnoxiously he could swing your arms before you commented on it and stopped him. You didn’t plan on doing that, though, because the way he was grinning ridiculously and giggling as your hands went practically vertical was utterly adorable.

“You’re a dork.” You chuckled, bumping him with your shoulder. That had him laughing loudly into the nighttime summer air, the sun having just set moments ago. Tyson stopped walking then, and you turned to stand in front of him. He was smiling at you, though it was much softer than the teasing grin and beaming look you had been met with all day.  You raised a brow, about to question his change in demeanor when he reached his free hand up and brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear and letting his fingers trace down your jaw.

“Can I kiss you?” He sounded a little hesitant, like he was afraid of scaring you off and just the fact that he was so nervous after being so confident and sweet all day had you grinning. You weren’t sure if it was the four beers you’d had during the day or the simple fact that everything felt so easy and comfortable with Tyson, but you were nodding before you really knew it.

As he leaned down towards you, he tilted your chin up a bit. Your eyes fluttered shut, and soon after his lips brushed against yours. The way his lips felt like something out of a movie, how the quiet street around you melted away into nothing and it was just you and Tyson. The kiss was short, but when he pulled back and saw just how wide you were smiling, he was quick to press his lips to yours again.

The second kiss was firmer, but just as gentle and you dropped Tyson’s hand to brace yourself against his chest as he tugged your hips to get you closer. There wasn’t any heat in the kiss—passion, yes, but it was clear that kissing was as far as things were going to go.

You pulled away first the second time, and you were certain your grin was as wide as his. He looked adorable, the smile reaching his cheeks and your hands slipped from his chest to around his middle. Your next words fell past your lips easily, and his answering nod came before you even finished speaking.

“Let’s hang out tomorrow.”

AUGUST

Summer had come and gone, and your parents had gotten home from their trip the night before. That meant today you were headed to the airport, back to Seattle and to your regular life. You knew saying goodbyes sucked, but leaving Tyson hurt more than you thought it would.

You had said goodbye to his mother, Kacey, Michael, and your whole family back at the house. Tyson had offered to drive you to the airport in order to get just a few more minutes of alone time with you, and your aunt knew how close you had gotten over the summer. She remembered what it was like, to be young and falling hopelessly for someone.

Tyson hadn’t let go of your hand since you had gotten in the car, his gripping yours tight across the center console. You didn’t talk about it, you’d been living in dread and silent denial for the past two weeks. Tyson talked, though, and you admired his constant assurances that he’d stay in touch and you’d see eachother again. There was no timetable, with how you would be starting classes and he’d be busy with training camp, and then once the regular season started you’d be swamped with midterms, and then finals—but he promised, and you trusted him with everything.

He parked his car at the airport, adamant about being with you until they wouldn’t let him go any further, until he would’ve had to buy a ticket to go with you, and he was tempted to do just that. You sighed, leaning your head back until it rested against the seat.

Tyson copied your position, turning his head to the side to look at you. You could feel the weight of his stare fall heavy on your face, and just seeing the airport in person made everything all the more real.

Tyson was good at reading your emotions, he had spent nearly each day of summer with you, He’d be damned if he hadn’t been ingraining every moment spent with you in his mind in preparation for this day from the second he laid eyes on you at that first barbecue. Usually, he saw happiness and joy in your eyes. He had only ever seen the look of sadness he saw now on the few occasions where you felt homesick—and that one time he had walked in on you, Kacey, and Rachel watching the ending of The Notebook. He raised your interlocked hands, pressing a kiss to the back of yours to get your attention.

You smiled weakly, turning to face him. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your nose and you dropped your head to his shoulder. You could feel the tears start to gather in your eyes, the ache in your chest longing for him despite the fact that you were literally holding his hand still.

“We can do this. You’re too smart to be crying over some guy.” He commented, and though there was truth in some of what he said, he was mostly poking fun at what your grandma had said a few days earlier when you told her that you didn’t want to leave, you had meant it as a comment about missing everyone, but she knew you were upset about Tyson.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, nudging his shoulder as he chuckled lowly. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, knowing you’d wasted too much time already and needed to hurry into the airport. Tyson knew it, too, and he made the first move by opening his door. With a sigh, you followed suit, only to be swept into a hug the moment both your feet were on the ground. Apparently, you had taken longer to get out of the car than you thought, because he had already gotten your luggage out and set them beside him.

The urge to cry was back, your throat was tight and you couldn’t meet Tyson’s gaze. He didn’t push it, instead he grabbed one of your suitcases and handed you the other, grabbing your free hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. You still didn’t say anything, and Tyson silently led you through the airport. When he stopped and sighed, you knew it was time to say goodbye.

“It’s not true, you know.” It was obvious by the look on his face that he was confused by your words, that your grandma’s offhanded comment hadn’t been weighing as heavily on his mind as it was on yours. “You’re not just some guy, Tys.”

This time, you couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through your body as he pulled you into him, one hand on the back of your head to tuck you into his chest while the other ran soothingly up and down your back. He was whispering sweet nothings and gentle assurances in your ear, and you were hanging on to his every word—it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told you, but they were things you would miss hearing and that had you gripping his shirt tighter.

“I know. I know, I’m not.” He whispered, tilting your head up with his hands that were cupping both of your cheeks. He thumbs brushed the area under your eyes, wiping at the wetness that had gathered there as a result of having to leave. His voice was tight, and one glance into his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and the way his shoulders were tense told he wasn’t doing much better than you.

You stayed like that for as long as you could, wrapped up in each other and exchanging kisses as if you hadn’t had the chance to do so all summer. You were drinking in every last moment with him, burning the feeling of his grip on your hips and the smell of his cologne into your memory.

And then you absolutely had to leave, and maybe even run through security to make your plane. Your hand was curled around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet you halfway as he pulled your hips against his own for the sole purpose of getting as close to you as he could.

And then he was wiping your tears one last time, tugging you back into his chest for one last hug and one last forehead kiss and it was really driving home the fact that you were leaving. You were leaving an amazing guy that you had fallen for over the course of a summer, and it was up in the air when you’d see him again.

And then you were walking away, your feet seemingly moving of their own accord. You were wiping away your own tears, and you pushed down the thought that it felt so much more comforting when Tyson did it. You gave him one last wave, and he blew you one last dramatic kiss just to hear you laugh at his antics one last time.

And then you turned the corner and he disappeared from your view, and from your life, for two years.

And if you had known, you would’ve kissed him harder one last time.

[indigo-wendigo]

Cornibus Saga: Chapter 8

The Wendigo

           The following day was pleasant outside; not too hot, overcast with peeks of sunshine, and a slight breeze. Mallory was explaining the game of cornhole to William. “That can’t be what it’s called,” he said.

           “It is rather unfortunate, isn’t it,” she said. “But ‘bag tossing’ is not much better.”

           “Oh. You’re right.” He threw the first beanbag. It barely clipped the edge of the board.

           “Close!” she said.

           “Not even a little.” He picked up another.

           “You seem really athletic.”

           “Not even a little,” he repeated and threw another. It clipped the other side. “Fuck.”

           “You never played any sports?”

           “I never went to school,” he explained. “Never had the opportunity. Christian tried to show me how to play basketball, but I have… the hand-eye coordination of a lizard.” He missed a third.

           She perched her hands on her hips. “Then how the hell are you so good at combat?”

           “Different part of the brain, I guess.” He tossed another and watched it smack the board and slide through the opening. “Oh, hey, there it is.” William looked to see if Mallory had seen that shot.

           She was facing the patio, her eyes focused and her brow lightly furrowed.

           He followed her gaze. But the hairs raising on the back of his neck beat his eyes to the source.

           She was standing on the patio, perfectly centered within William’s view. There was a scream from one of the patients and others toppled their chairs over in an effort to move away. The two orderlies on duty got on their radios and gripped their tasers, but they backed away, too. Scarlet’s lychnis eyes were set on him, unfaltering.

           William exhaled through his nose and began walking toward the patio. “Do me a favor; keep everyone together. Don’t split up.”

           “William—” Mallory went after him.

           He raised a hand to keep her at bay and nodded to her with an assuring expression. He turned and marched up the slight incline toward Scarlet. He met her face to face, noting the patients and orderlies gathering close together and giving the Ghost a wide berth. William met her eyes. She looked back at him. There was a hint of sadness there. He didn’t care. “Was it you.”

           She looked between his eyes briefly. “I believe you already know the answer, love.”

           William lightly swiveled his jaw before clenching it.

           The Ghost looked around with her hands in front of her waist. “It’s quite lovely here. I suppose it will do. If you must be in a place like this,” she sighed.

           “This is your fault.”

           She gave him a scolding look. “I thought we just established the answer to your question.”

           “That’s not what I meant,” he retorted.

           Scarlet stared. “You can blame whoever you like. But this is your reality now. This is your situation. This is your life. And no one can do anything about it but you.” She looked around again. “And I have to say… While it was painful to watch you attempt to adapt to the rest of the world and society, knowing that this is their safer and most comfortable environment for you is… agonizing.”

           “Beats being your mutt.”

           She turned her head slightly. “Now, now. You know for a fact that you were, are, and always will be more to me than that.” Her hand slid up his chest, neck, and to his jaw. A powerful sting like someone pressing dry ice to his bare skin stole his breath.

           “Whatdoyouwant—” he grunted, paralyzed.

           Scarlet placed her mouth next to his ear. “To remind you of what you seem to keep forgetting: your place.”

           He managed to reach up and grip her wrist with maximum effort. “Take it somewhere else—” William growled.

           “I think not.” Her fingertips dug into his cheek around his scars. Every bone in his body felt as if it had been shocked with ice cold water straight into the marrow. An instant headache made itself known as his knees buckled under him. “I’m curious to see their reactions. Watching you fall into my arms without a single flame.”

           William squeezed his eyes shut in pain. When he opened them, he found a tree in his view that was not there before. Moreover, it was growing out of the concrete of the patio. Scarlet’s grip on his jaw loosened slightly as she blinked at the strange appearance. She looked down. Fog had begun to gather at her ankles and at William’s knees. Suddenly the clouds swallowed any hint of the sun and replaced highlights with gray shadows.

           And there was a mixed aroma of rancid meat and lavender.

           He struggled to turn his head in the direction Scarlet now focused her attention. The sight made his own grip loosen.

           It stood motionless among a nest of new, naked white poplars. And it was certainly a beast from a story children might have told each other under blankets with flashlights for a fright. Two bodies met: a female, human torso attached to a wildebeest where its neck would be. Atop the neck of the human portion rested a cervine skull, apparent from the antlers. However, the antlers bore striking resemblance to a rib cage. The antlers one might have expected to adorn such a skull instead replaced her collarbone, the spikes protruding from the skin near her shoulders. More bones, long and thin created a spine of spikes down the animal part’s back. And now William understood the aversion with which Mallory spoke of her Special Ability, and why urban legends had been created about such a monster.

           Scarlet straightened her posture. “What do we have here?” Her lips curled into a smile. “My, my. Aren’t you a magnificent creature.”

           Its tail flicked. Hands remained by its sides. Five more poplar trees sprang up from the concrete, making it crumble around their roots. The pointed end of every single branch crackled and popped to position themselves at the Ghost’s head. If William could have laughed, he would.

           Scarlet closed her lips and lost her grin. “Hm. And just how have you evaded my sight until now?”

           The skull head barely shook with a snort. One of the cloven-hooved feet pawed at the ground. The patients and orderlies of the hospital were still gathered behind the beast, watching in frozen terror.

           Suddenly Scarlet coughed. Then she gagged. William was released and allowed to catch his breath as she reached her fingers into her mouth frantically. She choked and sputtered until her hand drew out a long, knotted twig. She gasped for her own breath as blood trickled from the corner of her lips. And now that William’s lungs were full of oxygen again, the first thing he did was laugh. The beast stood still, its hollow eye sockets zeroed in on the Ghost.

           She furiously gripped his face in her palm, digging her nails into his skin. “On second thought,” she said, still partially making noticeable effort to breathe, “Let’s take a stroll, shall we?” A black fog misted around Scarlet and William.

           The beast emitted an elk-like whistle and stamped the ground. The poplars surrounding the Ghost came to life again, their branches rearing back for momentum to strike. The black cloud swallowed the two of them just as the branches shot inward.

             Mallory blinked and she was looking at the sky filled with the previous overcast cover. She blinked again and sat up as her memory came rushing back to her. A nurse and two of the orderlies were standing near a gurney and the head doctor, Sasha Blakely. “You haven’t been taking your Ability suppressors,” said Doctor Blakely.

           Mallory would have thought of a snappy comeback later, something like, “How did you know?” but she only had one concern. “She took him,” she said. “They’re gone.”

           The therapist, Olive, rushed to her side, a little out of breath. The patients must have all gone back inside. “Mallory, are you all right,” she breathed.

           “Yeah,” she stood up and brushed the dirt and grass off her pants and shirt. “We—have to tell someone. His family.” She looked to the doctor. “Did you already call his emergency contact?”

           “Not yet,” she replied, standing a little too calmly for what had just transpired. “We’ve been taking care of the patients. Making sure everyone else is accounted for. And taking care of you.”

           “Then let’s call someone. It’s probably his girlfriend, right?” Mallory started toward the patio.

           “Miss Woodsong,” said the doctor.

           The two orderlies stepped in Mallory’s way.

           “You are due a dose. No more capsules for a while, okay?”

           When an orderly gripped her upper arm, she yanked free. “Are you fucking serious? That’s your priority?”

           “We will contact his family. You worry about you for now.”

           When both the orderlies took her arms, she didn’t resist. She turned to the therapist. “Olive. Please call someone as soon as possible.”

           She nodded, not in a confirming manner but in more of a sympathetic gesture. “On my way.”

           Mallory allowed herself to be escorted inside, her heart pounding, her head swimming, and her blood boiling.

[hockeylvr59]

Positive || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So here’s another new piece (because I can’t seem to finish any of my existing series). Fair warning this one is a little rough emotionally, so you know...take a moment to prepare yourself and then let me know how much you want to kill me after. 

Warnings: light smut, ANGST

Word Count: 3,502

~~~~~~

Sitting on an unfamiliar couch with tears streaming down your face was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next five minutes were going to change your life forever, one way or another. Just the thought of that made it impossible to breathe, your chest tight as you buried your head between your knees. It was only the touch of a soft feminine hand that kept you even a little bit grounded, though that touch could only do much to console you as your world crashed and burned around you. 

Thinking back, you wished you could change the events that had led up to this moment. 

_____

You’d met Kevin through Jimmy Vesey and the two of you had become fast but casual friends. With you living in Boston while he played in New York and then Winnipeg and then finally Philly, you really didn’t see much of each other during the season. Phone calls were your most frequent form of communication and Kevin regularly called just to check-in or when he wanted to hear your voice after a bad game. 

So when Kevin insisted that you join his family on vacation over the all-star break you were shocked. That seemed like a gesture that breached the ‘just friends’ relationship you had. You’d tried to insist that he should just enjoy his time with his family, but Kevin wouldn’t take no for an answer, threatening to fly to Boston to put your ass on a plane himself. 

With your own commitments, you’d only been able to take a long weekend off and so you’d flown down to the tropics on Thursday evening, arriving sometime in the early morning hours Friday morning. As soon as you’d reached the front door to the beach house whose address Kevin had texted you, the door was pulled open and a pair of warm and strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to a muscular chest. 

“Y/N! You made it!” Kevin greeted happily, his voice signaling that he had been sleeping until you’d texted him that you were in a cab on your way over. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He added. 

“Hey, Kev…” You replied, a yawn slipping from your mouth as you spoke. It had been a fairly long flight but you hadn’t been able to sleep at all so now you were exhausted. 

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” Kevin stated, clearly picking up on your fatigue. Walking up a set of stairs you were led into an empty bedroom, where Kevin placed the bag he’d taken from you onto the bed. 

“Thanks, Kev…” You murmured, yawning once more. You watched him as Kevin draped one arm around you, pulling you into his side as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“You’re welcome.” He assured you. “We don’t have any plans tomorrow so feel free to sleep in.” He insisted, pulling away from you and running his fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re actually awake.” He teased, walking across the room where he pulled your door shut behind him. 

With little to no energy left in your body, you’d simply stripped down to your underwear before crawling into bed, sleep overtaking you the moment your head hit the pillow. 

***

Friday had passed by in a bit of a blur...mostly because you’d spent half your day in bed. Sleeping until your body awoke naturally, it was almost 1 in the afternoon when you glanced at the clock next to your bed. Immediately your bladder signaled its needs and your stomach growled for food, so you pulled yourself out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top before slipping out of your room in search of a bathroom and then food. 

The moment you’d descended down the stairs, a flurry of activity reached your ears, as did Kevin’s booming voice. You’d just reached the bottom stair when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly you were being swung around. 

“She lives!” Kevin exclaimed and once he put you down you smacked him gently for scaring you. 

“She needs food.” You informed him, only to have him nod and drag you to the kitchen where his mom and sister were making either a late lunch or working on the preparations for dinner. While introducing you to the women in the kitchen, Kevin poured you a bowl of cereal, placing it into your hands before disappearing. 

He’d returned a moment later, his nephew in his arms and it was only then that he took a seat across from you at the small table and started chatting away, insisting on hearing about everything you’d been up to since you’d last talked. 

The rest of the day was much the same, Kevin introducing you as one of his best friends to his entire family before pulling you from one thing to the other around the beach house. You’d gone swimming, played cornhole with the men, and helped his sister and sister-in-law clean up after a delicious dinner. 

Though it had been a very low key day you’d learned one important thing: your attraction to Kevin grew tenfold watching him with his family. 

***

Saturday morning had you up at a fairly normal time but when you’d gotten downstairs it was much quieter than it had been the previous day. You’d quickly learned from Kevin’s sister-in-law Kristen that the guys had gone to the golf course and had taken the kids with them and that Kevin had scheduled a spa day for all of the ladies, including you. 

After eating a quick breakfast you’d gone to get dressed and ready to leave. It wasn’t until the group of you was in a car headed to the spa that Kevin’s sister had asked what was going on between the two of you. You’d protested, claiming that you and Kevin were just friends but it was clear that his family wasn’t buying it and honestly you couldn’t blame them. It had been one of the many reasons why you’d protested coming on this trip. This was a trip for Kevin and his family and the fact that he’d insisted you join them seemed to scream that he viewed you as more than just a friend. At the same time, as much as you wanted that to be true you knew that it wasn’t and never would be. 

Eventually, Kevin’s family had dropped the inquiries about your relationship with him and instead just asked questions wanting to get to know you. It wasn’t long into your spa session before you were laughing with the ladies in Kevin’s life as you got manicures and pedicures. Your individual massage session left you feeling utterly relaxed and by the time you rejoined Kevin’s family after your facial, you were feeling completely spoiled. 

It wasn’t until you were being dragged into another room and shoved into a chair to have your hair and makeup done that you realized the true spoiling was only just beginning. 

Kevin was taking you out to dinner tonight. 

He’d told his family that it was just because he hadn’t had the chance to spend time with you just the two of you but just like this vacation as a whole, it was starting to feel like his explanations were merely thinly veiled excuses. And while you weren’t sure how you felt about all of this, you weren’t about to turn down some time alone with Kevin as it had been months since you’d had any with him in person and not over the phone. 

Arriving back at the house with your hair and makeup done professionally, you felt more beautiful than you could ever remember. Kevin had texted you that he’d be back at the house to get you in half an hour and so you rushed up to your room to change into the gorgeous sundress you’d brought with you. You’d brought it with you figuring that it could serve as a cover-up if nothing else, but now it was the only thing that was even semi-appropriate to wear out to dinner. Settling the fabric over your hips, you gazed at yourself in the mirror, smiling at the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up to go somewhere and it was a nice feeling. While you knew that you really didn’t have anyone to impress, you were hoping that you’d get a reaction out of Kevin nonetheless. 

You’d just finished hyping yourself up for dinner when you heard Kevin’s booming voice calling your name. Slipping your feet back into your sandals, you started down the stairs, finding Kevin waiting for you in the entryway. 

“How was golf?” You asked him, missing the look of awe on his face as he took in your appearance. 

“Golf was good.” He responded, his hand drifting to your lower back. “You ready?” He asked and when you nodded, he guided you out to the rental car, helping you inside before slipping around to the driver's seat. “How was the spa? Hopefully, my family didn’t give you too much trouble?” He asked, glancing over at you while at a red light. 

“It was incredible. Thank you, Kev. I feel beyond spoiled. And your family was great. I had a lot of fun.” You assured him, relaxing back into the seat of the car. 

“Good.” Kevin mused. “Though you don’t have to thank me. You deserve it.” He’d added in a whisper and for a pause, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

The restaurant Kevin had taken you to was gorgeous and the food was absolutely amazing. You had really missed spending time with Kevin like this and you enjoyed catching up with him. Hours had passed without you even realizing it and sadly before you knew it, it was time to return back to the house. 

Arriving at the beach house, you were taken aback when you walked into the middle of an intense board game session, one which Kristen dragged you into declaring that they needed more players. It wasn’t until the early morning hours that every one trickled off to bed, a little tipsy, having spent hours laughing and carrying on. 

Sliding between the sheets you thought about today’s lesson: you felt like you belonged while with Kevin’s family and maybe “just friends” was more blurred than you had thought. 

***

Sunday was your last full day of vacation, your flight home scheduled for lunchtime Monday. You’d been woken up by a large body bouncing onto your bed and you groaned, shoving Kevin in the chest, still half asleep. 

“C’mon Y/N...we’re spending the day on the beach.” He insisted, once again not taking no for an answer. 

“Fine. Leave so I can get up and get dressed.” You murmured, having slept half nude the night before which was something you didn’t need Kevin to see. 

“You have five minutes.” Kevin declared and though he didn’t say what would happen if you took longer, it was certainly implied that Kevin would drag you out of this room in whatever state of dress. 

Laying in bed for another minute, you finally pulled yourself up and rummaged through your bag for your swimsuit. Sliding it on you then threw on shorts and a t-shirt before throwing your hair up in a messy bun. After grabbing sunscreen and your phone you slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs to find Kevin goofing off with his niece who was bouncing around excited to head down to the ocean. 

Your day was spent in the sun and sand and waves, as you switched between working on your tan, playing with Kevin’s niece and letting Kevin drag you into the ocean. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun had begun to set. Returning to the house, the men worked on grilling up dinner while the rest of you settled into chairs surrounding a fire pit. 

After enjoying dinner and changing into some actual clothes instead of a damp suit, you’d settled back into the chair, glasses of wine and bottles of beer floating around never to be emptied without being replaced. With the moon high in the sky, you enjoyed the evening with Kevin’s family, his nephew eventually being settled onto your chest, the little boy cooing as he snuggled into you. 

Within ten minutes of being handed the baby, Kevin had come over and taken him from you, handing him back to his brother. Raising an eyebrow at him, you watched as he reached a hand out to you, pulling you from your seat.

“Come take a walk with me.” His words signaled that it was more of a demand than a request and though you were confused, you nodded, slipping off your sandals as you reached the beach to walk barefoot along it with him, nothing but the moonlight guiding your way. 

“Kev...what’s going on?” You eventually asked him, the silence between you becoming overwhelming. Kevin didn’t stop until you had tugged on his arm, forcing him to look at you. When he did it was with eyes that were stormy and your heart picked up speed at the sight of them. 

“Kev…” You repeated. “Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Kevin had never acted like this before and it was something that concerned you. 

“I want to have a baby with you.” Kevin eventually spoke and your jaw dropped as you froze, just staring at him. 

Eventually you found your voice again and were able to stutter out, “You what?” 

“I want you to have my baby,” Kevin repeated. “You’re my best friend. My family loves you. And seeing you holding Beau. Fuck Y/N I need that.” 

“Kev…” You breathed, unable to form any words other than his name with the way your head was suddenly spinning. Staring at him for a moment longer as he just stared back made it hard to breathe and after a moment you turned. “We should head back.” You said softly. 

Kevin didn’t protest, instead linking his large fingers with yours as you walked, only dropping them just before reaching the eyesight of his family. Settling back into your chair you forced a smile onto your face and joined the ongoing conversation, accepting the fresh glass of wine you were offered. 

Not long after, the kids were taken up to bed and the rest of the house slowly moved to follow them. Still, Kevin didn’t move from his spot and neither did you until the two of you were the only ones left out by the dying fire. Watching the flickering flames cast shadows on his face, the only thought that would come to mind was how handsome he was. 

And you weren’t sure whether it was the fire, the wine, the earlier baby snuggles and playtime with Kevin’s niece, or the feelings for Kevin that you’d been suppressing for so long but something pushed you to your feet and over to stand in front of Kevin and it was only once he was looking up at you that you nodded. 

“Okay.” 

Without a word, Kevin nodded back, reaching up to take your hand before guiding you inside and up to his bedroom which was settled the farthest away from the bedrooms where the rest of his family was staying. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind the two of you and the lock flipped into place that Kevin pulled you close, his lips dropping down to yours as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist. 

Everything after that felt like it happened in slow motion. Kevin’s hands were so gentle as he stripped you out of your clothing before lifting and gently laying you back on his bed. His accent was heavy as he slowly murmured about how much this meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how he couldn’t wait to see your body swell with his child. His touch and his kisses were slow and lingered, working your body close to the edge of orgasm not once but twice before finally making you fall apart. It was only then that Kevin pressed inside of you, his mouth silencing your screams as you cried out for him. The sound of your bodies rocking against each other was the only thing filling your ear until Kevin hissed and grunted and suddenly you were filled with a warmth as he spilled inside of you. 

Sleep followed not long after but it wasn’t until you stirred early the next morning that you realized your next lesson of this trip: that you had made a massive mistake. 

***

Tears formed in your eyes as you slid from Kevin’s arms and worked on silently gathering your clothes. After stopping to use the bathroom, you slid back into your room closing the door behind you. It was only then that you really started to cry as you worked to throw on proper clothes before packing your bag up to head home. 

It wasn’t like you were going to leave before talking to Kevin, but...knowing that said conversation was likely going to turn into a fight, well, you wanted to be able to make a quick escape if need be. 

Your stomach twisted as you made your way downstairs, and you forced a smile onto your face as you sat down to eat the eggs that Kevin’s mom was making. Hearing Kevin’s footsteps on the stairs, you got up to intercept him, pulling him outside. 

“We need to talk.” You murmured, watching as Kevin eyed you anxiously. 

“Okay.” He conceded, sitting down on the front porch step of the beach house. 

“Last night was a mistake.” You started and immediately Kevin opened his mouth to protest, an action which you stopped with a shake of your head. “Kevin I’m sorry but it was. I can’t have a baby with you.” You whispered, afraid that someone would overhear you. “I was overwhelmed by the mood of vacation, the moon, the fire, the alcohol, you...but none of that is real Kev. What’s real is that I’m going back to Boston today and you’re going back to Philly and this…” You gestured between the two of you. “This won’t work. And it certainly wouldn’t be fair to even think about bringing a baby into.” It hurt you to see Kevin’s shoulders slump, but this was something that had to be said. 

“Y/N please...we could make it work.” Kevin murmured and you shook your head, tears prickling in your eyes. 

“No. No, we couldn’t.” You insisted, moving to head back inside. “I’m sorry Kev...but I’m gonna grab my bag and go to the airport. Thank you for everything.” As you started to walk past him, Kevin reached out catching just the tips of your fingers. 

“Why?” The word slipped from his mouth without further context and you tugged your hand away from him, brushing the tears from your face. 

“Because you don’t love me the way that I love you.” 

Once back in the house, you grabbed your things before stopping to say a quick goodbye to the rest of Kevin’s family, making an excuse as to why you needed to leave for the airport early. You had a feeling they knew that something was up, but no one said anything and you thankfully didn’t see Kevin again before climbing into a cab. Your heart ached because last night had been so perfect. The problem was that it wasn’t real and you needed something that could be real. Sadly perfect….perfect wasn’t real. 

_____

The steady tic tic tic of the kitchen timer finally sounded, causing you to jump. A glance over at Kristen revealed a concerned but supportive look as she nodded at you. You hadn’t known where else to turn, but you couldn’t do this on your own. You weren’t sure if she knew the details of what had happened or not, but the moment you had messaged her asking for her help she was quick to assure you that you had it. It had been six weeks since you got on a plane and left Kevin behind. Six weeks without a peep from him and you knew it was your fault. All of this was your fault. 

“It’s time to look Y/N.” She whispered. “Take a few deep breaths.” She added, her hand rubbing over your back as you tried to get the courage to flip over the tiny plastic sticks. “Here. Hold my hand.” She insisted. With her strength flowing through your joined hands you took one final breath before reaching over to the coffee table and turning each of the three sticks in turn. 

‘Pregnant.’

‘+ ‘

And two pink lines. 

It had been one night. One mistake. And now you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

You were having Kevin Hayes’s baby. 

[incorrectjiiquotes]

So many quotes to choose from as for what to request in celebration of you getting 50 followers (congratulations for that by the way). I want to know if you can make a story out of "I got 2 free tacos!"?

The sun shone high in the sky. The day was warm and the breeze was cool. It was a perfect summer day. Because of this absolutely wonderful day Dreamfinder, Dr. Channing, and  Figment had all decided to visit a nearby carnival.

The carnival was absolutely bustling. There was an ocean of people. It was almost impossible to go two steps without bumping into someone else. Besides the crowds it was incredibly noisy from the sound of the ride engines running to shouts of vendors trying to hawk their products. Dr. Channing was staring at one of them and was simply incredulous. “Look at what they’re trying to sell Blair. An internet connected juice press. Who would even buy such an idiotic product?” Dr. Channing said. His words however fell on deaf ears as Dreamfinder was too fascinated by the ride that stood before them.

“That is simply an amazing mechanical marvel.” Dreamfinder said, not looking away from the ride that stood before him.

“I guess it could be considered impressive, but I wouldn’t trust it. It’s likely poorly constructed. I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart already.” Dr. Channing said. He immediately felt like something was missing. He looked around. “Wait a minute… Where’s Figment?” He asked.

“He’s on the ride.” Dreamfinder pointed to one of the arms where Figment was happily riding along.

“Of course, he is.” Dr. Channing said.

After about a minute the ride stopped, and Figment got out of the little car and met back up with Dreamfinder and Dr. Channing. “That was so much fun!” He exclaimed. “What are we going to do next? Play carnival games? See a show? Ride more rides?”

“I think we should just walk around and see what catches our eye.” Dreamfinder said.

“That’s a wonderful idea! Let’s go!” Figment said. He started racing through the crowd.

“Figment slow down!” Dr. Channing shouted. Dreamfinder and Dr. Channing began to chase Figment who was flying at incredible speeds. They were able to catch up as Figment had stopped abruptly.

When they finally caught up to Figment, they saw what he was staring at it was a stage with two slanted boards painted blue and orange. In front of the stage was a woman behind a table with sign that said, “Sign up here” Next to the boards were four orange beanbags and four blue beanbags. There was a man dressed up like a stereotypical carnie complete with the red and white pinstriped shirt and a boating hat. He was shouting into a megaphone. “Step right up and join the cornhole tournament! Anyone can enter! Anyone can win! All it takes is an arm to throw!”

“This sounds ridiculous.” Dr. Channing said dismissively.

“I wanna sign up for it!” Figment exclaimed.

Dr. Channing sighed. “Of course, you do.”

Figment zipped over to the sign-up table. “Can I join the tournament?”

“Alright.” The lady behind the table said. “Now, I’m going to need to get your first and last name?”

“Figment Mercurial-Channing!” Figment said.

“Alright. You’re signed up. All you need to do now is wait for your number to be called. The tournament will start soon.” She handed him a lanyard with a card that read contestant number 15.

Figment went back over to Dreamfinder and Dr. Channing. “Look at this neat lanyard I got!” Figment exclaimed.

“Do you know when it starts?” Dr. Channing asked.

“I dunno. The lady said it would start soon, but I don’t know how soon is soon.” Figment said.

“Alright I guess we’ll just have to wait for it to start.” Dreamfinder said.

The carnie was still shouting his lunges out about the tournament, but after about 2 minutes of waiting, the announcement they were waiting for came. “Sign-up is now closed! The games are about to begin!” He reached down and got the clipboard from the lady behind the table. “Alright our first two contestants are Harleen Quinzel and Bella Goth! Come on up Harleen and Bella!”

The first two of the contestants climbed onto the stage. “Do both of you know the rules to cornhole?”  Both women nodded. “Alright then let’s get on with it!”

The initial competition between these two was fierce. Beanbags flew all around the stage. Soon it was over. “Alright then… now our winner with 6 points is… Harleen! Congratulations Harleen!”

Harleen began to cheer and Bella left the stage dejectedly. The carnie called up the next set of competitors, and once again they began to play. “Wow… I never thought people would take a game called cornhole so seriously.” Dr. Channing said.

“They seem really good… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to win.” Figment said.

“Of course, you can win! You are very great at throwing things.” Dreamfinder said.

“He’s right remember that time you threw 5 pieces of paper into the waste basket from all the way across my lab.” Dr. Channing said.

“Yeah… you’re right I can do this!” Figment said.

They continued to watch the competition while they waited. After a few matches they heard what they were waiting for. “All right for the last match of round one we have Figment Mercurial-Channing and Link Hyrule!”

Figment flew up to the stage, and his opponent climbed up to stage. His opponent was a blond teenage boy. Figment grabbed the orange beanbags, and Link grabbed the blue beanbags. There was couple seconds where Figment felt like a cowboy about to begin a high noon duel. “Ready. Set Go!” The carnie said.

The first battle was over in mere seconds. “The winner of this battle is… Figment Mercurial-Channing! Congratulations Figment! You move on to the next round!”

The next two rounds almost came and went. His opponents, Franziska von Karma and Tulip Olsen, both were incredibly good at cornhole. Figment was lucky that he managed to advance. The final round came up. It was all down to this. “We have reached the final round. Our final two contestants are Figment Mercurial-Channing and Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz!”

Figment was incredibly nervous, he looked over to his dads and saw that they were cheering for him. That gave him some confidence in this. Figment saw that his opponent looked like some kind of pharmacist. “Alright. Ready! Aim! Fire!” The Carnie said.

Immediately Figment and Doofenshmirtz began to throw the bean bags in a frenzy. Figment was only focused on whether or not his beanbags were going into the hole. The first one missed the board completely. His second throw made it into the hole. His third and fourth ones missed. Though the fifth, sixth and seventh didn’t. All it was up to these last three bags. He had to make them count. The seventh went in but the eighth and ninth didn’t. The tenth one almost missed but it made it into the hole.

“Alright now we are tallying up the points. The winner of today’s prize is… Figment Mercurial-Channing! Congratulations Figment! You have won a voucher for three free tacos at Tardigrade Tacos!” The carnie handed Figment a little piece of paper.

Figment rushed down to where Dr. Channing and Dreamfinder. “I won! Did you see it?!” Figment said.

“We did see it. You were amazing.” Dreamfinder said.

“That had to be the best game of cornhole that I have ever seen.” Dr. Channing said.

Figment was practically vibrating with excitement. “I wanna get my tacos now!” He flew over to where the Tardigrade Tacos stand was to get his tacos.

“A voucher for three free tacos is a rather disappointing prize isn’t it?” Dr. Channing asked.

Dreamfinder nodded his head. “It is, but Figment is excited about it, so we should just let him have it.”

Figment came back with a bag of three tacos. He pulled out two of the tacos and handed it to Dr. Channing and Dreamfinder. “Here ya go! Now we all have tacos.” Figment.

“That’s very nice of you, Figment.” Dreamfinder said.

“Thank you.” Dr. Channing said.

Dreamfinder, Figment, and Dr. Channing went to a nearby bench and sat down enjoying the tacos that Figment fought so hard to win. After they ate the tacos they went out and enjoyed the rest of their day at the carnival.

[heli0s-writes]

VII. Try Again

Summary: Reconciliation has arrived. And it hurts. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: Phew! I got one more chapter for ya and then we’ll be finished, my loves.

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

You watch Sam take off into the crowd and groan lightly at the way he almost resembles the road runner from those old Saturday morning cartoons, billowing dust clouds behind him and all. Steve clears his throat beside you and finally, you turn begrudgingly to regard him.

It’s been three weeks since the parking lot catastrophe, and almost two months since you’ve broken up. He stands now, blocking the sun, so that you’re eclipsed by the cool shade of his figure. It feels ominous, like a foreshadowing of how he might always be someone who takes the light but gives the shade. In this moment, you are both thankful and wary of the shade.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and careful. “I uh--- just wanted to say hi.”

“Yep, you said it.” You smile back, so that any passerby or watcher might interpret the look as one of warmth; no one is close enough to hear the stiff tone. But, to make polite conversation, since he did stalk you all this way, you ask, “Sarah with you?”

Steve points to the popsicle truck where Sarah bounces on her feet with Marnie holding onto her hand. There is a baseball cap on her head and a slight residue of pasty sunscreen on her arms that are quickly becoming ruddy in the sun.

It’s a little disappointing to see her like this, attached to her babysitter’s hip rather than her father’s. You’ve always wondered what the point of having a child was if parents don’t consistently spend time with them. It seems hypocritical that Steve and Peggy’s relationship fell apart because of her inability to spend time with Sarah—but here he is, too: not spending time with Sarah.

As if he could read your souring look, Steve shoves his hands in his pocket.

“I took your advice, you know.”

Your eyes flicker up to his as he kicks at a patch of vibrant green grass inattentively, “She’s been seeing a counselor... there’s-- as you said, lots of discussion. About the divorce. It’s getting better.”

A family comes up behind you to grab a piece of pie, so you and Steve find the right moment to move away from the front of the dessert table, taking your conversation away from possible eavesdropping ears. Chatter rises from the background, full of laughter and children's joyful shrieking. Popsicles shine in the daytime sun, sugary ice in dazzling and flamboyant hues, waving in the air as their owners run across the lawn. Colorful celebration flags flop noisily in the wind, adding their own percussion.

“And I… listened to the other thing you said, too.”

Sarah calls and waves to you from the line, pointing to the menu. You wave back with your best excited teacher face.

There’s no memory of that conversation sparking in your mind. You’re sure you’ve always thought so because he works so damn much—but can’t recall when it came up until your eyes begin to roam over the faded shirt stretched tightly over his chest. Speckled and gray, and perplexingly familiar. “What th—"

Suddenly the hazy sensation of your knees softly thumping against wood cabinets doors rushes into your mind. Soft grunts. A breathy laugh and low moans.

Oh.

Embarrassment creeps over your cheeks when you remember the last time you saw that shirt.

No, it wasn’t much of a conversation then, rather, more like a plead—a sigh passing your lips to encourage his hands as they slid over your body. The shirt, that Monday, had stayed on you for the rest of the day, even as Steve aligned his hips behind yours on the other side of the mirror.

You remember, too, its hem being rucked up when he took you back to bed again only a few hours later, sunlight pouring over you both and illuminating the thread-bare stipples of grey and white as he busied himself between your thighs. Steve couldn’t stop grinning each time he mentioned, “I really like this shirt on you,” even as his face was pressed into your lap.

The same grin graces his mouth now as you pull the brim of your hat down over your face once more. It’s a futile attempt to shield yourself from him and his knowing look, catching you in that burning memory.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I know this isn’t the best time...”

“Yeah, no kidding.” You hiss, but Sarah comes flying back with two popsicles in her hand, one melted orange drop splattering on your knee.

“Sorry!” She laughs before pushing it to Steve’s face, “Here you go, Daddy!!”

Then, she’s off again, tugging Marnie along as she finds Christine Parsons in the distance and jumps into her arms. It makes your heart hurt just a little, how easy it is for children to find solace in new caretakers. Even Sarah, whom you’ve grown so close to and spent personal time with, has seem to have forgotten all about you.

You can’t blame her, though, because it’s only the third week of class and all you think about every second of the day are your own twenty-four litter of students. Such is life in an elementary school. At least she’s not proclaiming her hatred for her teacher anymore.

But you watch Sarah dance around Christine now, tossing a beanbag in the air and catching it clumsily. In the small timespan of three weeks, she’s shot up another inch—growing so quickly from the already rapid change during the summer break. Her face has shifted slightly, elongating, nose becoming less round and taller, so many little details that add up to one seemingly giant transformation.

Yes. You understand Peggy Carter’s envy.

A bead of sweat trickles down your neck. Steve hands you the popsicle in his fist and you take it without thinking.

“I hired Sam after we--- you know, well…” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I realized my life needed some reupholstering. I had been too comfortable—falling into complacency, when I should have been paying more attention to the things that really matter.” His mouth turns into a forlorn crescent.

You glare, turning side to side, catching the eyes of the crowd shifting all around looking at the conversation that seems too serious to be in the middle of a bustling school picnic. He really has no sense at all, you think. Big, dumb, man.

Big, dumb, stupid, man.

Steve, unaware because he’s a big, dumb, stupid man, sighs as if he’s holding the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. “You told me you loved me, do you remember?”

To your right, a mother stops midway while reaching for a cut of brownie and you can see her eyes widen briefly before she quickly grabs the fudge square and plops it on her plate. She shuffles a little further away, but still in earshot as she pretends to look for another dessert for her tray. You think about saying something, but your eyes glaze over, trying to find the particular memory he’s referencing, instead.

No. Nothing. A cold trail slips down your palm and you realize the popsicle in your hand is dripping orange all the way down to your wrist.

Steve produces a tissue from his pocket and begins dabbing the melted ice away.

“I got ya.”

Your uninvited and eavesdropping audience member opens her mouth in a small round shape. Her eyebrows slope together as she absently places her hand to her chest, as if saying “aw.” Steve is tenderly wiping the bright orange trickle from your skin before he motions from the popsicle to your chin.

“You gonna eat that?”

When you stand too shocked and frankly flabbergasted to respond, he takes the opportunity to grab it and stick it in his own mouth, crunching the ice between his teeth and sucking the stick dry. A drop of sugar water lands in his beard.

“Huh--” He muses, “Thas pretty good!”

Your teeth gnash together in an attempt to push your suddenly growing smile away. Your eyes slip shut, frustrated with him. What the fuck, you think. Why is he like this? A smile weasels its way onto your face, tugging the left side of your mouth upward into a lopsided grin before you bite it down.

The mom, now taking an inordinate about of time to get a plate of dessert, smiles too.

“Is that a yes?” Steve whispers, peering down into your eyes. “You remember?”

“No.” You respond. “You’re being annoying. And messy.”

“Really?” He laughs, “Is that the best you got?”

Now you are glaring, because no, you’ve got so much more. He seems to pick up the cue and puts his hands up defensively. Then, out of reflex, Steve wipes your hand one more time for good measure. “Sorry, shouldn’t push it. Hey...” his voice grows softer now, and he leans in until you’re both sure the mother who is – goddamn it, still there—can no longer hear.

“Please give me another chance. Please, sweetheart. I really do love you.”

“Steve,” You snap, “That’s not something you say lightly. And it’s not something you say when you’re desperate, either. I have to go, and you should too because your daughter needs to spend time with you and not her babysitter, don’t you think?”

A sad smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah,” he admits, “Yeah. That’s why I hired Sam. He’s really good, you know? I wanted to show him the ropes around our fundraising events, but he’s been at the shop for almost a month now.”

It makes you pause.

“I’ve started taking off on the weekends. Come in just a few times—Wednesdays, for inventory. Fridays to prep for the Sunday rush. This is the first time I’ve called Marnie in almost a week.”

He looks so proud of himself, but he tucks his chin to his chest and regards you with shy eyes like a student waiting for a prize. Even his hands are inside his pockets again and he rocks back and forth on his heels, teeth tugging his heavy bottom lip gently. Big blue eyes. Stupid pretty eyelashes. Steven Grant Rogers knows exactly what he’s doing.

You begin to dig around in your purse in retaliation. Your fingers touch the edge of your phone—no, that’s not what you want. So, you continue to search as he waits.

Truly, you’re very proud of him-- beyond thrilled that he’s taken your advice to heart and has put Sarah first. Over at a game of cornhole, she cheers and claps when her teacher makes a beanbag in. Three weeks ago, that little girl was falling apart and cursing all of second grade.

The idea of him, finally not waking up at three in the morning and working until he literally drops seventeen hours later sweeps over your chest like a soothing current. You remember how exhausted he always was when you’d see him—and it was only summertime. His workload doubled with Sarah during the schoolyear. You remember coming over for spaghetti, and him, about to burst into tears while rolling meatballs.

It makes you relieved to know he would finally be taking care of not just his daughter, but himself as well.

Yes, you’re very proud of him.

Your fingers finally catch what you've been searching for. Slowly, with a ruinous smile, you peel off the points from the thin sheet of plastic and take it out of your purse.

“Congratulations, Steven,” you announce, sticking a quarter-sized and iridescent gold star over his chest. You hold up two thumbs and push them under his nose. “A-plus. Would you like a high-five, too?”

No, you’re not going to let him get away with his shit so easily.

Down the table, three more women have congregated, and they clap and cheer when Steve chuckles and leans his head back in mock defeat.

--

It’s four-thirty and you are slathering aloe vera on your shoulders when a knock pounds at your door. “No!” You yell, “Go away, Steve!”

You avoided him for the rest of the PTA Picnic, mingling with parents and your colleagues instead, but every time you would accidentally find his eyes over the yard, he’d smile at you. A few times, he actually waved. The star sticker, meant to be an insult, he wore as a badge of honor.

Big. Dumb. Stupid. Man.

Eventually, it got to the point where other people (other, other people, not just the eavesdropping mothers) noticed too. After the third person of the day asked if you were seeing Steve Rogers, you excused yourself and went home to nurse your growing sunburns.

“C’mon, hon!” Steve calls from the door, exceedingly pathetic.

“Fuck off!” Even though a laugh might escape.

“Sarah’s here!”

You yelp, because the f-bomb is fine and dandy, but not to her ears. When you yank the door open, wet glistening shoulders and all, ready to apologize... there’s no one there but Steve and two dozen roses freckled with baby’s breath and pearly wax flowers. Your arms cross and you think you might put your fist right through that outrageous arrangement. “Are you serious?”

Steve peeks over the massive amount of deep red and a river of words tumbles out.

“Yeah, Sam was positive that he clocked a flowers-and-chocolate girl from meeting you just one time and wouldn’t let me go without these. Figured it couldn’t hurt... but I got you something else...” He pulls a brown paper bag from behind his back and dangles it one-strapped from his pointer finger.

Two loaves of banana bread sit sandwiched next to each other inside- not even wrapped, just embedded in crinkled confetti-colored butcher paper. On top, a similarly colored scrap has scrawled in rushed and sloppy all-caps handwriting: UNLIMITED BANANA BREAD-- CAP&CO!

“You’re such an idiot.” You berate.

“I know!” Steve cries, “I know! I know! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, please let me come in so I can talk to you. God, please? Even if it’s just so you can yell at me some more?”

“I am not yelling at you.” You retort, but let him in, anyway. “You’ll know when I’m yelling.”

Steve sits cautiously on the couch, places your gifts on the coffee table, and then looks around curiously. Things are a little different since he’s been here last. There are more plants, and you’ve gotten a little square bookshelf positioned in the corner of the room by the T.V. The kitchen even hangs a few wooden panels with abstract strokes and your corkboard of polaroid photos has been changed out for small doodles and tiny watercolor pieces.

He realizes, as he peeks over into the dining room, that you’ve been painting in his absence. Each picture is more refined than the last, as if you’ve been practicing. His little hobby that he pressed upon you hastily, you’ve taken to heart and improved on, even though he’s been gone.

It probably hurt so bad, he thinks, to have those paints in your house, to be reminded of him. Steve shuts his eyes and counts to ten. He doesn’t deserve you, but he wants you. He wants you so much.

“So?” You ask, brow furrowed on the sofa chair to his right. Now that he’s physically inside your apartment, the mood has changed considerably. The snarky banter in public and goading at the door has transformed into solemn and dead air. You don’t know what he might say, and even worse, you don’t know what it is you’ll do in return.

It’s easy. So easy to care for him. So easy to fall back into that routine of being with Steve Rogers.

But he’s shown you that he finds it easy to return to Peggy, too. And you— the easiest one of them all, will just forgive him for it? Your breath sticks to your lungs and refuses to come out. If you could go back to that day in bed and have pleaded with him not to pick up the phone, you probably would.

No, that’s too simple. It’s childish, and naïve, too.

“I’m sorry.” Steve finally speaks into the silence of your living room. His hands are folded over his knees, and he is looking at you like he is trying to bury those words inside your body. He calls your name. “Baby, I am so sorry. I am so goddamn sorry.”

It hurts. It hurts all over, but you won’t let him see you cry. “Okay.” You reply tepidly. Sorry isn’t enough.

“The truth is, I made a mistake. A really big mistake, and what’s worse is, I was too scared to admit it. I could think up of a million reasons why —about Peggy, or Sarah… It’s… so hard.” Steve puts his head in his hands, “The hard thing is that I have always been… stubborn. I was stubborn enough to move Sarah here by myself. I was stubborn to think that I could raise her on my own. Obviously, I couldn’t; I was falling apart, working too much, didn’t know how to talk to my daughter… and hadn’t spoken to Peggy in months. God, I hated being away from Sarah.  And when an easy road made its presence known to me— I went right for it.”

You want to focus on his words, because you know he means them, but a part of you begins to disengage to ease your own suffering.

“You got caught right up in the middle of it.” Steve whispers, choked on his sentences. “I wanted to badly to make my family work again, I didn’t realize that family doesn’t need to mean… what I think it means. It can be anything. And love can be anything.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”

The both of you are in tears now. Your breath comes out in short and sharp puffs as you try to contain the pooling wells of your eyes. Steve’s own face is flushed pink, as wipes his cheeks with the heel of his palm.

“Honey,” he stutters, “I love you. I love you so much. I know your love and it’s wonderful.”

“Y-you didn’t even c-call— I’m not— I’m not a fucking back up plan, Steve!”

He rushes off the couch in a fumble of noisy limbs and falls to your feet on his knees. You retreat into the cushion of the sofa chair, legs drawn and wrap your arms around yourself. Instinctively, you want to be protected from the hurt-- from him. You’re a jumble of wracked sobs and groans as your head begins to pound.

“I know you’re not.” His arms wrap around yours, digging behind your back as he shifts to move onto the seat as well. You’re an absolute mess, completely shattered into pieces in his embrace, jaw clenched and frozen as your eyes leak all the way down to your neck.

Steve holds on tighter, buries his head into your neck where droplets run down your shoulder and onto your back. He rubs your spine gently, shushing your cries.

He feels so warm and good to lean into. And in this moment of weakness and sadness, all you want is that warmth again, just for a single minute— even if it’s foolish.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was afraid and stupid. I thought it would be easier to go back to something I had already known, but I know now that being with you is what I really want. Your love is a wonderful thing. I’m so sorry I ruined it.”

He says it into the top of your head, his warm breath washing over you with each exhale. Steve pulls you to his chest and you can hear his heart hammering in his ribcage. Your own is near identical to his, deafeningly loud in the quiet rest of the apartment. His hands rub up and down your arms.

“Could you love me again?” He asks softly. “Could you try? I won’t let you down this time... I swear.”

His words are sweet like the very honey he stirs into his recipes. They slide down his tongue and out his mouth and soak you in their sticky, syrupy promise. You pull away and look into his eyes, red and blue, glassy and crawling with veins. He wipes a tear from your cheek, and you do the same to him.

Everything is fuzzy. You feel worn down and scattered about, pieces of you lost and trying to find each other.

The two of you sit there, looking at one another on the tiny sofa couch. Then, distractedly, you sniff.

“Where is Sarah?”

Steve erupts into a sharp, wet, laugh before he inhales and blinks his tears away, “God, I thought you were going to headbutt me.” He admits.

“She’s with Marnie at a movie. I asked her to give me an hour and a half before dinner. Time’s almost up.” When you hum softly, he takes the opportunity to press his nose against yours. When you sigh, he does it again before sliding his lips over your mouth.

“I love you.” He whispers against your cheek. One then the other, he places kisses over your face. “I love you.” Your tongue sits swollen in your mouth, unable to find the right words for this moment. “I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it.”

You feel both heavy and weightless, wavering between acceptance and denial. “I--I don’t know, Steve.” You whisper.

“Let’s try again, baby,” he pleads, trailing his lips over your jaw, the two of you scrunched up like pretzels, legs entwined, arms linked and gripped tight.

It’s obvious why clichés like breakup sex and secret relationships are exciting. The aspect of having a potentially glorious thing one last time is a thrill. This, too-- this apologetic, tender, intimacy-- is thrilling. Steve Rogers, torn open and laid bare for you, waiting for you, pleading for you, makes your stomach flip and sink.

He smells like sandalwood and pine. Clean shampoo and summer sun. You try to swallow the deadened weight of your tongue away, but it only grows larger.

Finally, you sigh, wipe your face one last time, and wipe his eyes too. With a crooked smile, you say, “Let’s go get Sarah.”

--

The car ride to Steve’s house is as quiet as a funeral. Your radio remains off the whole time and your brain is wiped completely blank by sheer emotional exhaustion. Any time a thought of whether you’ve done the right or wrong thing arises, it turns into snowy static and disappears. Maybe you’re a saint. Or an idiot. Maybe idiots can also be saints, and maybe that’s what you are.

What you really want is to stop feeling so much. The ache has subsided but its now replaced by unease laced with a steady drumbeat of something that resembles elation. You can’t help but feel excited again, because Steve is here. Steve is back. Steve has promised. And you hope he will deliver. Your chest thumps noisily and at light speed when you remember how happy he made you just a few months ago.

The reality of that approaching happiness resurrects itself inside of you, taking off on eagerly flapping wings.

Yet, the concerned part of you still stands planted on the earth, arrow raised and nocked, waiting to loose the bolt to shoot that bird down.

The two of them watch each other guardedly as they grow further and further apart.

 You turn off the engine and meet him on the sidewalk where he stands waiting patiently. Marnie’s car isn’t here yet, so he leads you inside by the hand and brings you a glass of water, observing you all the while.

“What?” You ask hoarsely after a big gulp.

He smiles—wide, blindingly white, reminiscent of the old wallpaper on your phone. “Just glad you’re here.” He says, suddenly shy.

“Yeah,” You reply sadly, “Me too. I think.”

Steve takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the countertop. “It’s okay.” He whispers, tugging lightly on your finger like a lost child, “It’s okay.”

A knock from the front door pulls your attention away and you can hear Sarah chattering on the other side. Marnie opens the door with her spare key and Sarah leads here in with a half-eaten bag of popcorn clutched to her chest. She does look so tall now, you think, and older with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her jawline beginning to angle just slightly more like her father’s.

“Hi daddy!” She says in-between a crunching mouthful, and then pauses when she sees you behind her father. “Hi!!! Wow! Are you gonna stay for a sleepover? Daddy doesn’t work tomorrow! Can we go somewhere?”

She places the bag on the nearest counter and runs over to where you stand by the coffee table, jumping right up into your arms.

You stumble, because she’s even bigger than the last time she did it, and your life flashes before your eyes.

This time, because he was expecting it, Steve catches you against his chest and sets you right. Marnie smiles and waves goodbye from the doorway.

--

You wash dishes side-by-side in the kitchen after Steve tucks Sarah into bed at eight. She’s worn out from spending her day outside and running around so much that over dinner you watched her nearly doze off while eating her vegetables.

Steve had made dinner with fluffy brown rice and sautéed shrimp and lemon zest. On the side, he steamed summer squash and cut fresh slices of sweet peppers. Once more, you and Sarah set the dinner table and poured the drinks while he arranged the plates.

Dessert was simple: plump, blood red cherries from the farmer’s market. Sarah splashed burgundy over her shirt, and you dabbed some vinegar on it before rinsing it out for her in the restroom. Her nose had scrunched up at the smell and she pretended to barf until she actually dry heaved a little.

Huh. Second grade, you thought, as you backed away from her.

Patting the dishes dry, you stack them neatly into their respective cabinets before washing your own hands. Steve brushes a strand of your hair away from your face and leads you back to the couch where it’s safe: neither too forward nor too modest. Appropriate enough for two adults to talk while Sarah sleeps in her room with the door cracked.

Her bedtime playlist slips down the hall as a tinny, melodic voice. The lights are dimmed low, just enough for the two of you to see each other and not much else.

His hands sandwich yours and he places them in his lap. As he turns to look at you, the lamp behind his head illuminates his long hair, casting radiance all around him. Your breath quickens.

Big. Stupid. Beautiful. Man.

“You know what I thought the first time I met you?” He asks suddenly, a sly smile growing on his face. You frown. The hand on top of yours brushes over your knuckles, fingers rubbing back and forth slowly as he continues, “I thought—”

“I was too young.” You interject, rolling your eyes at the memory of his crass words at Open House.

“Yes.” He laughs. “I did think you were too young. Inexperienced. I had this idea of what a teacher should have been… But then—” he snickers again suddenly, clapping his hand over yours, “then you handed me your resume and flicked me off at the same time.”

You grin, because yeah, you remember that, too. It was a pretty audacious move on your part, but he had really pissed you off. “Is that what won you over?”

“Yeah. It really was. It was impressive—your resume, and your middle finger.”

“I didn’t like you very much when I met you.” You admit, “Didn’t like you … for a long time.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” Steve chuckles, “You would literally run away from me. I had to chase you down with a plate of food-- with specially made banana bread! Jesus, that recipe was so hard.”

“Well, Steve Rogers,” You sigh, “Thank God I like you now.”

“Not God,” Steve corrects, “Thank Bucky. He really set me straight— twice.”

Steve told you once over a conversation all about Bucky and Natasha, the two old friends you briefly met in early June. Bucky was the one who had encouraged Steve to ask you in the first place. You remember replying how you’d have to thank him next time you see him for giving Steve the idea. Apparently, you’ll have to thank him again, too.

“He pretty much yelled at me for twenty minutes after… you know.”

“You deserved it.” You say.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I really did.”

Then, after a moment of silence, because both of you are unsure where to take this conversation next—too soon to apologize again and too soon to start acting like nothing is wrong again, Steve clears his throat.

“I talked to Peggy, after the airport.” He says carefully, as if the very mention of her name might make you burst into tears. You’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t, but again, it wasn’t her you had been upset with. So, you nod quietly and wait for him to continue.

“I think... we’re all on the same page.”

“Which page is that?”

“That you’re too good for me.”

It’s supposed to come out as a humorous thing, a thing you would laugh at and tell him the opposite. He even holds his breath in wait for the moment when your laugh would escape in a joyful exhale, but instead you glare. “I’m just a person.” You say grimly, and he doesn’t quite understand why the joke that was supposed to be funny has suddenly turned serious.

“I’m just a person. Not a substitute. Not a replacement guardian. Not an idea of a lover or mother or--”

“Woah!” And then the tears are falling down your face again and Steve’s chest feels like it might break open. “Honey, I don’t love you as anyone but yourself. I love you as the caring teacher. The… new painter?” He offers you a sweet smile, “The funny, beautiful, glorious, and gracious girlfriend…”

“My girlfriend?” He asks bashfully.

A small laugh escapes as you wipe your eyes, “Don’t forget I’m good in bed, too.” You tack on jokingly.

Steve puts his forehead in his hand, “Jeez, you gotta meet Bucky again. You two are two of a kind.”

He peeks at you between his fingers. A slow, tender gaze, full of affection and promise. Steve bites his bottom lip, looks at you with hooded eyes and takes a deep breath in. His tongue rubs against the edge of his teeth. “Can’t wait to spend time with just you.” He says in a single quick breath. “I want to make you feel better, baby.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “Don’t disappoint me, Rogers.”

The comment that is meant to be a joke flips on its head. Steve surges forward and tucks both arms under yours, pressing his chest to your chest, burying his face into your neck. “I won’t.” He murmurs, pained. His beard tickles when it scrapes against your skin, but his hot breath wicks it away.

“I won’t ever again.”

“Okay, Steve” You sigh, cheek resting on his head, “Okay.”

Last Chapter

[tickle-bugs]

Tutoring Under Pressure

Summary: Eleanor has a philosophy test with Chidi coming up and Tahani, ever-gracious, offers to help her study. Some study methods seem to be more effective than others. @peachytickles: ok so chidi or tahani helping eleanor study? she starts to get restless so she ends up incorporating some movement based activities. they start off tossing a ball back and forth while reciting facts, but eleanor misjudges a throw and smashes a vase. they try a few other things but nothing works: finally they realise that eleanor needs the adrenaline of only having a few seconds to give her answer so they ask a question, and count down from 10. if she's wrong or doesn't answer in time - tickles!

“-nor! Eleanor!”

“Hmm?” Eleanor jumped, unsticking her face from the textbook page. 

“I asked you a question.”

“You did?” She tried to phrase it like a statement, as if she was ready for whatever philosophy question Tahani had asked her snoring body.

“I did.” Tahani smiled.

“The answer...is Kant.” Eleanor nodded sagely.

“You’d like to eat Kant for lunch?”

“Maybe.” She tried to play it cool, but Tahani’s amused chuckle undermined her confidence. 

“I thought so. Can you bring her a shrimp scampi?  I’ll have a salad. You know how I like it.” Tahani pulled aside one of her butlers and he nodded before disappearing into the mansion’s farther reaches.

“Alright, so textbook learning isn’t quite your style.” Tahani dropped the heavy book onto the floor.

“I’m never gonna pass this test,” Eleanor whined, slumping over onto the table. 

“Don’t say that! We just need to find the best way to teach you.” Tahani patted Eleanor’s back and she groaned louder.

“Janet?”

“Hi Tahani. Hi Eleanor.” Janet appeared with a pleasant ding. Eleanor launched herself up from her seat and grabbed Janet by the shoulders.

“Janet! Make me the answer key for Chidi’s test!” Eleanor shook her violently, though she seemed unbothered.

“I can’t do that, sorry.”

“Shirtballs.” Eleanor trudged over to Tahani’s couch and flopped onto it, throwing her arm over her face.

“Can you give us a deck of flashcards? We need to cover the basics of moral philosophy.” 

“Here you go. Good luck.” Janet smiled and disappeared with a pleasant ding.

“Thank you.”

“Tahani, this is pointless!” Eleanor stretched her legs over Tahani’s lap and sighed, sinking into the lavish cushions.

“Not true. You know this, Eleanor. No more moping. Define moral philosophy.” Tahani held up the massive flashcards, tapping them to get Eleanor’s attention.

“I know this one. Just give me a second.” Eleanor pushed herself up to sit. She knew this was probably the easiest question in the deck, but her brain was completely blank. 

“Let’s move on-”

“No! I know it! I’m just thinking.” Eleanor squinted at the deck, willing her brain to concentrate. It was (slightly) working, until something smacked her in the forehead.

“Ow! What the fork, Tahani?” In her lap sat a red beanbag, likely stolen from the cornhole toss boards that Jason had built on the sprawling lawns. Tahani plucked it from her and tossed it between her hands.

“You had too much time to think. No more of that. Define moral philosophy.” Tahani tossed the beanbag to Eleanor.

“It’s the logic that applies to the issues and fundamentals of moral life! Woah.” Eleanor sat up and stared at the magic beanbag in her hands. Tahani took it back.

“See? You just need the pressure. Try and keep a rhythm going. Define egoism.” 

“An idea is right because it will satisfy the doer.” 

“Moral Skepticism?”

“We can’t know what’s right and wrong.”

They went back and forth for a while, Eleanor getting more and more excited with each successful toss. The sound of the beanbag hitting their hands lulled her brain into a pattern, giving out answers on instinct and without thought. 

That is, until she defined hedonism with such enthusiasm that she missed Tahani entirely, knocking a very-expensive looking vase off of a pedestal and into a million pieces on the lovely hardwood floors.

“You can replace that, right?”

“No, it was a one of a kind and gifted to me by the Queen herself.” Tahani sighed deeply, painfully. “I will find a new one.” 

She turned to face Eleanor with glittering eyes and a wicked grin.

Eleanor could always tell when Tahani had an idea because she either announced it or gained a devious, plotting smile, the latter of which was usually reserved for mischief and revenge. Eleanor, understandably nervous, raised her hands in surrender.

“You have ten seconds to answer. Define utilitarianism.” Tahani turned to better face Eleanor, delicate and poised, her arms folded primly behind her back.

“I have ten seconds, or what happens?”

“Five, four—”

“Tahani?”

“Time’s up.” Tahani grinned. She pulled Eleanor forward by her calves, earning an adorable squeal, and before her captive could protest, she wormed her manicured hands into the rips of Eleanor’s jeans and started skittering everywhere she could reach. 

“N-Nohoho!” Eleanor gasped between hysterical giggles, squirming violently but not really going anywhere. Tahani swung her legs over Eleanor’s, perched like a bird of prey watching a mouse in the field below.

“Define utilitarianism.” Tahani poised her hands in claws, hovering just above Eleanor’s stomach.

“I...um, wehell—” She was still giggling, covering her face as if not being able to see Tahani would help.

“Five, four, three—”

“Wait, I know it! It’s when an action is right because it helps the greatest number of people!” Eleanor grabbed Tahani’s wrists.

“Very good. Define virtue ethics.” 

“Uhh…”

“Seven seconds.” She wiggled her fingers just over Eleanor, not yet touching, which was so unfair that all she could do was whine and try very hard to disappear into the cushions.

“Ethics...that are good.” 

“No.” 

“Can I try again?” 

Tahani answered by vibrating her fingers into Eleanor’s stomach, laughing herself as Eleanor shrieked. She tried to push Tahani away from her, but that opened up her armpits for attack and—yep, she was squealing. Again.

“Let’s see, what other spots require attention?” Tahani was admittedly becoming sidetracked, but Eleanor was far too entertaining to resist.

“None! None of them! Wow, we have studied so much and I know everything about ethics. Which means you can get off of me.” Eleanor crossed her arms over her middle, but Tahani found the gaps in her defenses.

“Your ribs, perhaps?” 

“No! Tahahani!” Her voice jumped an octave and she tried very hard to kick Tahani off. She simply scooted further up Eleanor’s legs, making sure to ruthlessly squeeze her knees as she did. 

“Lightning round. Answer the question right and I let you go.” Tahani brushed Eleanor’s hair out of the way to get a better view of the blushing, still-giggly mess beneath her.

“What do you mean, ‘let me go’?” 

“Name five philosophers.” 

“What? Ohohomygod—” 

Eleanor flailed when Tahani drilled her thumbs into her hips, nearly throwing both of them off of the couch. She started sliding, letting gravity carry her anywhere, as long as it was away.

All gravity did was get her stuck, hanging halfway off the couch with her torso stretched out. 

“P-Plahahato!”

“Good. Keep going.” Tahani fluttered her fingers over the blonde’s stomach, and, in a feat of extraordinary strength, Eleanor sat up and grabbed her wrists.

“Lehemme goho!”

“Answer the question correctly and I will.” Tahani started squeezing Eleanor’s sides, beaming at the desperate noise she made. 

“Locke!”

“Three more,” Tahani said playfully, zeroing in on the ball of nerves near her lower ribs. Eleanor collapsed backwards, clutching Tahani’s wrists for dear life. 

“Ihi cahan‘t!” 

Tahani started to wonder if she was being too cruel—Eleanor did sound terribly desperate—but she remembered how despondent her friend became anytime that she felt that she had disappointed Chidi. This was for her own good.

Besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t having fun. For all of her bluster, Eleanor hadn’t pushed her away once.

“You’ve named two already! Surely you can do three more. Focus, Eleanor.” 

“Descartes!” Eleanor giggled, pronouncing it like an American—Des-carts. Tahani rolled her eyes.

“Pronounce it correctly.” 

“Descartes! It’s Descartes!” 

“Better.” Tahani wormed her hands under Eleanor’s arms, delighted at the hiccupy laughter she was able to pull forth by dragging one finger up and down in slow, torturous lines. 

“Arist—ahaha, noho!”

“Perhaps a name with less syllables?” Tahani suggested gleefully, gently scratching with her nails. Eleanor clamped her arms to her side and tried to turn over, but Tahani wasn’t letting her go anywhere. 

“Marx!” 

“One more.”

“Kant!”

“Excellent! I’d say that was a successful study session.” Tahani stood, straightening out her dress and hair. Eleanor wheezed on the couch, not yet remembering how to function.

“Of course you’d say that.” She huffed. 

“And you wouldn’t? It looked like you were having fun.” Tahani poked Eleanor’s stomach just to hear her giggle softly.

“I wahas. Maybe.” Eleanor covered the spot, but her smile didn’t disappear. 

“Well, I’ll be here when you need help on the next test. Would you still like to stay for lunch?” Tahani combed through Eleanor’s hair with her fingers, uselessly trying to tame it. 

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. You have a lovely laugh, by the way.” Tahani stood and offered her hand.

“Shut up,” Eleanor muttered, taking Tahani’s hand. She intertwined their fingers as they walked towards the dining room for the best shrimp scampi Eleanor would ever have.

[goodlookingforagirl]

Oc-tober Day 8: Festival

This cute, somewhat fluffy scene is focused on Esther, an oc that I’ve had and loved for years but who I never gave enough attention. Of course, this takes place at a fall festival because it’s autumn, and I want to go to something like this so badly right now! Thanks to @oc-growth-and-development for creating this prompt list! 

Day 8: Festival

Esther handed the boy his paper cup and held out her hand. “That’ll be fifty-cents, please.”

    “Fifty cents for a cup of cider?” he almost spat.

    “Well, this is a fundraiser for the high school band.”

    “That’s overpriced.”

    Esther sighed. “Well, do you still want it?”

    “I guess.” He carelessly dropped the coins into her hand and skulked off.

    Esther had barely stopping rolling her eyes when the next customer approached. When she saw who it was, her heart began to pound. “Hi, Rosalind!”

    “Hey, Esther,” Rosalind chirped. “How’s it going?”

    “Oh, it’s going great, just great. I mean, not too busy, but not too slow either.” Esther was usually well-spoken and concise, but she felt like a deer caught in headlights, blinded by Rosalind’s beauty.

    “How are you?” Esther finally asked

    “Good! I just got done at the face painting station. I’m trying to find someone to go on the hayride with me, but everyone else already rode it.”

    “I’ll go with you,” Esther blurted out. She wanted to kick herself — could she possibly sound more desperate?

    “But aren’t you working?”

    “I’ll be done in twenty minutes. But, I mean, you don’t have to wait on me if you don’t want to.”

    “I don’t mind. Can I meet you at the loading area?”

    “Of — of course,” Esther stammered. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

    “Don’t rush,” Rosalind smiled. She got a cup of cider and gently laid her two quarters in Esther’s trembling hand. “See you then.”

    “See you then,” Esther echoed. She watched Rosalind walk away, her mane of red hair glowing in the setting sunlight. She was iridescent, she was luminous, she was —

    “Hey,” an obnoxiously familiar voice barked, taking her out of the moment.

    “Hi, Violet,” Esther said, finally turning away from Rosalind.

    “You’re all spacey,” Violet remarked, a mischievous glint forming in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

    “Nothing’s going on,” Esther lied. “Do you want a drink?”

    “I want a hot chocolate.”

    “So do I,” Harper spoke up. Esther hadn’t even noticed her — she really was spaced out.

    “Are you guys having fun?” Esther asked as she poured the hot water.

    “Yeah, but we’re running out of stuff to do. We already picked our pumpkins, and played cornhole, and went through the corn maze.”

    “I made it through,” Harper piped up. “She didn’t.”

    “I got lost and you didn’t come back to get me!”

    Harper shrugged. “Not my fault.”

    Esther was stirring the hot chocolate mix with one hand and pointing with the other. “You can go bob for apples and tell Adelaide hi.” They all looked over at Adelaide, who was leaning against the large apple bucket, making sure people didn’t drown but otherwise not giving a damn about what they did — such was her way.

    “I don’t want to put my face in the water,” Violet balked. “It’s probably freezing.”

    “And all the germs,” Harper added, eyes wide.

    “Well, go on the hayride,” Esther suggested, then immediately regretted it. She didn’t want to end up on the same ride as them.

    “We already did,” Violet replied, and Esther sighed with relief.

    “Well, go do something; there’s a line behind you.” She waved her little sisters away and served a steady influx of customers, but she barely paid attention to them. Rosalind was the only thing on her mind. The two of them were friends, but not best friends, so they’d never spent time together outside of a group. Esther had been wanting to reach out for a long time, but every time she tried, she got tongue-tied and flustered and gave up. But fate had gone easy on her tonight, and Rosalind had been the one to reach out. It probably didn’t mean anything, but it still made her heart skip a beat.

    Esther left the booth the second her relief arrived and ran to the hayride loading area. She passed Adelaide, who had just finished her apple-bobbing shift and was shouting something at Esther, but she didn’t stop to listen. She wasn’t going to waste a second.

    Rosalind was waiting for her. “You didn’t bring any of your wares?”

    Esther gave a puzzled look. “My wares? I — oh, you mean the cider. No, I didn’t. Should I get some?”

    “I’m just teasing you,” Rosalind smirked. “It would spill over, anyways. It looks like a bumpy ride.”

    They loaded on with a few school acquaintances as well as a few strangers, and they soon found it was indeed a bumpy ride. Esther tried to keep from falling onto Rosalind, while also wishing that she could fall into her arms. But that wasn’t safe. Rosalind must know — almost everyone knew from one source or another — but that didn’t mean she felt the same.  

    “It’s freezing out here,” Rosalind said, zipping her coat up to her chin. “Last year, it was a lot nicer.”

    “We didn’t do a fundraiser here last year.”

    “But I came last year, with my boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes. “Now he’s my ex-boyfriend, and I say good riddance.”

    “I don’t remember you having a boyfriend,” Esther replied, her tongue feeling like sandpaper.

    “I haven’t since then. I’m done with men. They’re all the same.”

    Esther knew that you shouldn’t make such blanket statements before you’re even an adult, but she didn’t chide Rosalind. Instead, she smiled.

    “I don’t remember you having boyfriends, either,” Rosalind commented.

    Esther’s smile fell. “I haven’t.”

    “Are you tired of men, too?”

    I never liked them to begin with, she wanted to say. And maybe Rosalind could already tell. But she wanted to play it safe. “I’m just not interested. There are better things to focus on.”

    “I agree,” Rosalind said softly. After a moment of silence, she reached for Esther’s hand. “You feel frozen.”

    “I don’t know why,” Esther said, since the rest of her body felt like it was on fire.

     Rosalind rubbed Esther’s hand between hers. “You must run cold, huh? So do I.”

    We’d never have to argue about the thermostat, Esther thought, already dreaming of domesticity.

    “Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

    “No,” Esther replied. “I don’t have any set plans, at least.”

    “Want to come to my place? My dad’s got an old projector and a reel of Frankenstein. I was thinking me and a few friends could watch it together.”

    Esther hated horror movies but didn’t hesitate for a second. “Of course! I’d love to.”

    “Your sister can come too, if she wants.”

    “I’ll ask her.” Truthfully, Esther had no intention to invite Adelaide. Not when it was Rosalind’s house.

    The hayride returned to its starting point and everyone loaded off. The sun was below the horizon now, the sky more grey than pink, and Esther could hear her sisters before she could see them.

    “Esther!” Adelaide screeched. “I was trying to get your attention earlier!”

    “You were?” Esther feigned ignorance.

    “Yeah. I’m done with my shift and we all want to go home.”

    “We’ve been here for hours,” Violet groaned, and Harper nodded, her eyes glazing over with fatigue.

    “Okay, we can go.” Esther handed Adelaide the car keys. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

    “Why not now?” Violet groaned again. “We want to go now.”

    “Stop whining, I’ll be there in a minute!” Esther shot them all a look that made them obey without further questions. Fortunately, Rosalind was still beside her, not deterred by the noise.

    “That blonde one’s dramatic,” Rosalind giggled.

    “Tell me about it.” Esther made sure her sisters were far enough away before she kept talking. “So, what time should I be over on Halloween.”

    “Hm...is eight too late?”

    “Eight is perfect.”

    “And you’ll need my address, won’t you?”

    “No. I’ve already been there for study group.” And she’d never forgotten the exact house, just in case she got the chance to return.

    “Oh, wow. You have a good memory.”

    Esther smiled and tried to act nonchalant.

    “Well, I guess I’ll see you at school Monday.”

    “Yeah, I guess so.”

    “Drive safe” — Rosalind leaned in for a hug — “and keep warm.”

    Esther worried that Rosalind could sense her nerves, her passion, her wild ecstasy. She returned the hug as calmly as she could, but her feelings were so electric that it felt like they were shooting from her fingers. Rosalind smelled like cinnamon and her hair was soft like silk. Esther captured the moment in her mind as perfectly as possible, knowing she’d return to it many times in the future.

    “You too,” Esther shakily replied when Rosalind finally let go. They smiled at each other, and Rosalind turned away, quickly disappearing in the dark crowd of people.

    Esther stood alone for a few moments, letting herself soak it all in. The feeling of Rosalind’s hands, her hair, her breath, her everything. It was all too good to be true. She looked up at the starry sky and prayed, God, please don’t let there be too many other people there on Halloween. Please let me have a chance.