#to the point where i hardly ever repeat my order at the restaurant 'cause you know

[clownleys]

Allright, more date ideas: aquarium(mostly bc ive never been to one but i rlly want to), going to a bookshop and picking a book for each other and then reading it together at a cafe maybe annotating them etc, oh also i rlly want to learn balroom dancing so waltz classes would be fun, weekly(monthly if were to busy) pick a country night where we watch movies/make food from that place and learn trivia. And swordfights, sure. Although you'd probably win them all bc id be too busy blushing from all your puns to focus.

i love them all! the book thingy sounds so personal and sweet...... but all of those ideas do, really!

i'd also love to learn som fancy dances, so we'd sure have a great time. i have confidance in that. <3

DESCRIBE URSELF ON ANON AND I’LL TELL YOU IF I’D DATE YOU

[reinerispretty]

reminiscence (? x f!reader) pt2

thank you so much for all of the positive feedback on the last chapter!! i’m super happy you guys enjoyed it :) just for some clarification, the reason i made who the reader will end up with a mystery is bc since she has amnesia, i thought it would be fun if we all found out together hehe :) enjoy this next chapter!!

pt1 

pt3

“Thank you,” The woman said, hunched over as she caught her breath. When she stood, Bolin got a good look at her face. She wasn’t a woman at all: she was a girl, probably the same age as him. “I thought I had an agreement with the Triads to leave me alone, but that guy must not have gotten the memo.”

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow.”

“Who was that?” (Y/N) asked as Kya and Korra rifled through dressers and chests to find Air Nomad clothes that would fit her. Kya gave Korra a sharp look before the girl could answer.

“That was Bolin,” Korra replied cautiously. “He’s Mako’s brother.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said. “He looked really nice. Did he know me too?”

“Um, yeah, I think so,” Korra said and Kya glared at her. “What? Am I just supposed to lie to her if she asks?”

“I appreciate the honesty,” (Y/N) admitted. “I would really rather no one tiptoe around the past.”

“If you receive too much information at once, or someone tells you something too painful, it could harm your chances of ever getting your memory back,” Kya said as she handed (Y/N) an Air Nomad dress.

“So everyone is just supposed to pretend that they’re fine with me? That hardly seems fair.” (Y/N) gave Korra a pointed look. “I know you know something that I don’t and that’s why you’re a little stand-offish toward me.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Tell me, please? I’ll be okay. I need to know what kind of person I was.”

“Not today,” Kya interrupted. “You need rest. Lots of it. You’ve been going since you woke up.”

Now that she mentioned it, (Y/N) did feel rather exhausted. She stifled a yawn. “I’ll lead you to your room,” Kya said. “Since Korra can’t be trusted to not tell you everything.”

(Y/N) stood as Kya grabbed her by the arm again. “It was nice meeting you, Korra, even if it wasn’t nice meeting me.” Korra didn’t reply. She just watched as the girl padded down the hall.

The room (Y/N) was given was bare. It held a desk, a dresser, and a bed. The window looked out onto the courtyard below. She could see the people down there, undoubtedly talking about her, and she reached her fingers up to open the window. She paused, thinking on Kya’s words. If she found out too much about herself too soon, she would risk the chance of losing her memories forever. She let her hand fall to her side.

Everyone down there knew who she was. Maybe they knew her likes, her dislikes, or even her birthday. She wondered if at one point they had been friends.

Her experience with Mako had definitely put a sour taste in her mouth. He had said she wasn’t a good person. Was she mean? Evil, even? What made her that way? What did she do to him that was so awful?

And then there was Bolin. Mako had mentioned his name earlier, when she had arrived on his doorstep. “Bolin’s not here,” He had said. Why would it matter whether or not Bolin was there? She sighed as she looked down at the boy dressed in green. What did he know about her?

(Y/N) felt the familiar stinging at the backs of her eyes that alerted her to tears. Since she was alone, she let them fall freely. She moved away from the window and to the bed, her body shaking as she cried. She felt so alone. How was she supposed to cope with something like this? She was completely lost on the inside and it seemed like the only people who knew her didn’t want her around.

She didn’t bother wiping her tears away. They fell too quickly for her to catch them all. She wondered if she had ever had someone that would wipe her tears away. She got under the covers and prayed that sleep would come to her soon.

---

Two years ago, Bolin had been walking down the streets of Republic City. It was a warm night, signaling the start of summer, so he wore his jacket slung over his shoulder. The streetlights shone against the puddles on the asphalt. It had rained earlier that day.

He and Mako had gotten in a fight over money again. It was stupid, really, but sometimes Bolin was just so sick of Mako treating him like he was incapable. He had slammed the door as he left their shared apartment and marched into the street, walking with no destination. He was far away from home now. He could tell he had been walking for a while because the neon lights of the shops had already shut off. Republic City was beginning to quiet.

He made a right onto a dimly lit street and noticed a female figure walking ahead of him. Bolin decided to stop. He knew sometimes it freaked women out if men walked behind them, even if there was no ill-intent behind it, so he leaned his back against the cool brick of the building and waited until she had rounded the corner to start walking again. That was when he heard the scream.

Out of pure instinct, Bolin started running toward the sound, his jacket billowing behind him. He skidded around the corner, watching as the woman he had seen struggled against a member of the Triple Threat Triad. He and Mako had done some work for them in the past, but he didn’t recognize the man. He was large, towering over the woman and probably Bolin too. He had his hands around the woman’s wrists and was trying to lead her into the dark alley beside them. “Hey!” Bolin called out. “Let her go!”

The man stopped, a sinister smile creeping its way onto his features. “This doesn’t concern you, kid.”

Bolin wracked his brain for a clever reply, but when he couldn’t find one, he resorted to his next best option. He stomped against the ground, causing small boulders to pummel the man. He let go of the woman’s wrists and she ran over to Bolin.

The man let out a roar, jumping into the air and sending a slice of firebending at the two of them. They screamed and Bolin grabbed her hand, running back down the street and taking the back alley ways he knew so well.

“My place is the other way!” She shouted at him.

“I don’t think you wanna take him to where you live!” Bolin shouted back. They made a sharp right turn onto one of the busier streets in Republic City. Bolin stopped, using his head start to earthbend the ground up, completely blocking the man from following them. They dashed into the crowd then, Bolin’s grip still tight on the woman’s hand, until he was sure they were safe to stop.

“Thank you,” The woman said, hunched over as she caught her breath. When she stood, Bolin got a good look at her face. She wasn’t a woman at all: she was a girl, probably the same age as him. “I thought I had an agreement with the Triads to leave me alone, but that guy must not have gotten the memo.”

Bolin let out a laugh. “You have an agreement with the Triads?” The girl furrowed her brows and pouted.

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow,” She said. She looked down at her hands and sighed sadly. “When he grabbed me, he made me drop my dinner.”

“Oh no!” Bolin exclaimed. “Come with me, I know a place!”

“Thanks,” She said, “But I don’t have any money on me.”

“Let me buy you dinner!” The words came out before he could stop them, and he knew Mako would be so mad if he found out, but he couldn’t help himself. The girl raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s fair to make you pay for my dinner after you just saved my life,” She said with a laugh. Bolin smiled at the sound.

“How about this: you can repay me for saving your life by accompanying me to dinner. And if I—hypothetically—ordered too much food and couldn’t possibly let it go to waste so you’d have to eat it…then I think that’s fair!”

The girl smiled up at him. “Then I guess, hypothetically, I’d have to say yes.”

Bolin grinned and began walking in the direction of the restaurant, then paused. “Just to be clear, you are coming to dinner with me, right?” The girl laughed again and nodded.

They slid into the booth of Bolin’s favorite twenty-four-hour noodle shop. “They’ve got everything,” Bolin explained as they poured over the menu together. “Ramen, pho, pad thai…you name it, they have it.”

The girl hummed. “Think they have sea prunes?” Bolin’s face contorted into disgust. “I’m kidding! I hate sea prunes.” She picked up her menu, biting her lip as she looked at its contents. “Do you like soup dumplings?”

“Like soup dumplings?” Bolin asked. “I love them! They’re my favorite!”

“Mine too!”

“We’ll get a double order then,” Bolin decided. He went up to the counter and ordered their food. When he returned, he leaned his elbows onto the table. “So, what should I call you?”

“You mean besides the girl you just rescued? (Y/N) will do.”

“(Y/N),” Bolin repeated. He liked how it felt in his mouth. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bolin.”

---

“Bolin.” The boy snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at his older brother. They had returned home only a few hours ago and the sun was starting to come up. He could feel its warm rays cascading through his windows and onto his skin. “You need to go to bed,” Mako ordered.

“How can I possibly go to bed?” Bolin groaned, flopping sideways onto the couch. Pabu hopped up and curled himself into Bolin’s side.

“Easy,” Mako said. “You close your eyes and then you’re asleep.”

“Every time I try to close my eyes, I think of how (Y/N’s) on Air Temple Island and she has no idea who she is or who we are.”

“Try not to care about it, alright?” Mako poured himself a cup of tea. He had work in just a few hours. His under eyes were dark with exhaustion but as long as Bolin was awake, he’d remain awake. “We’ll figure it out and get her memories back and then she’ll go back to whatever she was doing when she left Republic City.”

Bolin chewed on his bottom lip. He had a feeling there was more to the story. The cogs in his head were turning tirelessly. He sat up, disturbing Pabu, and turned to Mako. “What if-“

“No, Bolin, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make excuses for everything that happened because she has amnesia.”

“But what if there’s something bigger?” Bolin asked. “She’s been gone for months and says she woke up a week ago without her memory. What happened in that time?”

“We’ll find out soon enough. They’re gonna have her do some meditating tomorrow to try to bring some of her memories back.” Mako sat beside Bolin on the couch.

“I should go back,” Bolin started to stand up. “I need to talk to her.”

“Bolin, no.” His brother pulled him back down. “You heard Kya. She can’t find out too much or she risks losing everything. While she’s focusing on getting her memories back, you need to focus on what you know: she broke your heart, little bro. She definitely didn’t have amnesia then.”

Bolin’s eager appearance deflated completely. He knew his brother was right but there was still a part of him that wanted to go see her. Maybe if Bolin told her about her past, then it would be okay. They’d had the strongest connection out of all of them.

---

That morning, (Y/N) sat between Korra and Tenzin in a gazebo. Her legs were crossed, her arms were loose in her lap, and she inhaled deep breaths to try to connect to any of her lost memories. All that she got was a whole lot of nothing. She peeked her eye open to look at Korra, who was blatantly staring at her.

“Keep your eyes closed!” Korra snapped.

“Your eyes were open!” (Y/N) argued.

“No one’s eyes should be open!” Tenzin grumbled decisively. The two girls sighed and returned to their previous states. (Y/N) inhaled another deep breath and tried to do what Tenzin had told her. She recounted the first memory she had: waking up and gasping for air, the night sky high above her. She could feel the grass that surrounded her. Once she had gained her bearings, she took in her surroundings. A small fishing village sat at the bottom of the mountain she had laid on. She got to her feet, legs wobbling, and looked at herself. Her coat was covered in spots of dirt. She reached into its pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. The writing on it was scribbled and quick, written with haste, and was obviously an address.

(Y/N’s) eyes popped back open. She didn’t notice anything different this time around. There hadn’t been anyone at her side. The first people she had interacted with had been the people in the village. They had asked her name and (Y/N) had started panicking when she couldn’t remember it. She didn’t want to delve too deep into that memory. She could still feel the pain and anxiety in it.

She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t remember anything! I’ve been trying for the past two hours and all I can see is the same memory I’ve been going over for the past week.” She felt the stinging behind her ears again, but took a breath to halt it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get so frustrated. I just don’t know anything and I know you guys do and trust me, I understand why you don’t want to tell me, but it stinks not knowing anything other than my name and that I’m a bad person.”

Korra frowned sadly at the girl. She knew what it was like, to be judged before she got the chance to redeem herself. While she had heard some pretty bad stories about (Y/N) from Mako, she also recognized that he was biased. Especially when it came to Bolin.

“How about we go into the city and get some lunch?” Korra asked. (Y/N) looked up at her gratefully.

“I don’t know if that’s the wisest idea,” Tenzin’s deep voice rumbled.

“Relax, Tenzin. We won’t talk about her life. She needs something normal right now.” Reluctantly, the man conceded.

Korra helped (Y/N) to her feet and whistled for Naga. The polar bear dog bounded toward them, her tail wagging excitedly. “(Y/N),” Korra said. “Meet Naga.”

The polar bear dog gave (Y/N) a huge lick on the side of her face. She giggled, rubbing behind Naga’s ears. “It’s so nice to meet you!” (Y/N) squealed. “I wish I had a pet just like you!”

“She’s kind of the best,” Korra admitted as she hopped onto Naga’s back. She pulled (Y/N) up to sit behind her.

“I don’t doubt it!” With a whip of her reigns, they burst into a run toward Republic City. (Y/N) couldn’t contain her laughter as they sped toward the water. She didn’t realize that they’d be traveling by sea until Naga dove headfirst into the icy water. (Y/N) closed her eyes tightly, gripping onto Korra’s back. The Avatar laughed.

“You can open your eyes now,” She called back to her. Slowly, (Y/N) relaxed and looked around. They traveled under the water in a giant bubble. Korra’s arms moved in flowing movements in front of her.

“You’re waterbending!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“The Avatar is the master of the four elements,” Korra explained. “I’ve been training my whole life.”

“All four?” (Y/N) let out a gasp. “That’s so cool! I wonder if I was ever a bender.” Korra looked back at (Y/N) for a moment.

“You weren’t,” She said, her eyes kind as she stared at (Y/N). Although a little disappointed that she couldn’t bend, (Y/N) was grateful for Korra’s honesty.

“Thank you,” She said, a soft smile on her lips.

---

Tag List! 

@beifongsss , @realimbo , @lavendercrystals , @tomshollandz , @zukosvice , @itsivyberry , @awesomelupe , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @ilovespideyyy , @zukostan221 , @nataliahaslosthershit , @dailytrashypanda , @marvel-ing-at-it-all , @astralsaf , @ryleyrooroo , @yuhaino , @hotgirlazula , @thefandomimagines , 

[julemmaes]

“If I go on a date with you, will you bring the dog from your profile picture?” for Rowaelin or Elorcan maybe? 🙂

Puppies - October 15th

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre

A/N: I think I’m running a fever and I’m pissed cause it’s not the ideal right now, don’t you all think? But still, I wanted to post this and PP chapter 6, but I cannot for the love of god try and translate that too, so I hope I can do it for tomorrow, in the meantime enjoy this fluffy/cute thing since I’m always giving you just angst.

Enjoy:)

Oh and I think I’m gonna write a part two to this, just like for the Rowaelin one when I get the time and I finish every prompt. Also, again, I’m sorry if this is taking so fucking long, I do understand it’s December and this thing is called October Something so yeah

Word count: 3,883

Lorcan could not get over the fact that a beautiful girl like Elide had agreed to go out with him. Or rather, he could not understand how a beautiful girl like her had asked him out on a date.

A hint of panic crept into his mind, causing his smile to waver when he remembered his best friend's mocking words. "She didn't ask you out, she just wants to see your dogs." Rowan had joked when he had explained why he was taking the dogs for a walk dressed so elegantly.

Lorcan had eyed his black skinny and his beige sweater with an arched eyebrow, feeling sorry for Aelin if Rowan thought that outfit was elegant. He told him he had to meet a girl and his friend demanded to see some photos and Lorcan knew he would never let him out until he pulled out her tinder profile.

Rowan had opened his eyes wide in front of Elide's black-haired, pearly-skinned beauty, then burst out laughing, slamming his hand on his back and telling him he didn't stand a chance with someone like that.

Now, as he walked with Opal by his side with Maya pulling them both way too excitedly, he felt the anxiety grow with every step.

They had exchanged numbers almost immediately and talked for a week, sending pictures of what they were doing and eating, and when Elide had sent him a picture of a meat plate with rice, he had asked her where she was. She had gone out with some friends to her favorite restaurant in town and from there a conversation about their favorite places had started and Lorcan had mentioned that he should try the dish she had ordered, because it was as if he could smell it through the phone. At that point Elide had told him that she would gladly accompany him and Lorcan, like the idiot he was, had asked her if she was serious and she had sent him a message: "If I go on a date with you, will you bring the dogs from your profile picture?"

He had grinned like an idiot, happy to know that she didn't think they were vicious beasts. His two little dogs, two sisters, had entered his life when they were only a few weeks old and now he couldn't imagine his life without them, but sometimes it was difficult to convince other people, especially strangers, that they weren't aggressive and wouldn't tear them to pieces.

They had decided to meet at the Gardens of Orynth so that his two pitbulls could run a little bit free, instead of having to walk around the city with muzzles all the time and Elide had sent him a short video of her jumping happily at the idea of meeting him.

He was looking around for the girl, when he heard someone calling for him and his head snapped in the direction of the Turtle Fountain.

He opened his eyes wide, chuckling in dismay when he realized that Elide was dressed almost exactly like him. A beige sweater tucked on the front of her black pants, torn at the knees, which did absolutely no justice to the legs he had seen her show on her tinder profile. Even the shoes were the same, simple black lumberjack ankle boots, years old in appearance. The only thing differentiating them was the religiously black jacket she wore, which enveloped her figure perfectly.

That moment of distraction in which he admired her cost him the grip on Maya's leash, which with a sudden snap managed to pull him forward and free herself. The pitch black dog ran up to the girl and Elide smiled widely, crouching on the ground and opening her arms. The little dog immediately started to welcome her, licking her face and getting up on her hind paws, scratching her legs with those in front.

Lorcan cursed loudly and ran towards them, Opal looked up at him for a moment, starting to toddle next to him a second later, to keep up.

"Hello you beautiful," Elide was saying, rubbing her hand on the dark fur, "you must be Maya." When the dog started whining, wagging her tail even more, she giggled, "Yes, it's you."

Lorcan was sincerely surprised by the scene, but when Elide looked up, smiling at him with bright eyes, he remembered that he should speak. "I'm so sorry, normally I can hold her." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

She shrugged, "Don't worry about it." Then she went back to the dogs, extending her hand to Opal, who seemed just as excited as Maya, but sat next to him.  When she sniffed Elide's hand without approaching, she stood up and Lorcan saw with horror that she had mud marks on her pants. He felt himself blush, "Fuck, I'm sorry," and then she handed him Maya's leash, shaking her head. He touched her hand and his brain short-circuited.

"Don't worry," she said smiling and showing her teeth, "really." she repeated when Lorcan glared at the dog. Then she tilted her head to the side, "Hi."

Lorcan smiled in turn, looking at her. God, she was so beautiful.

"Hi."

She leaned towards him, leaving a light kiss on his cheek and immediately returning to her place, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, "I like the way you are dressed, excellent choice."

He was dumbfounded for a moment by her spontaneous gesture. Not that no girl had ever kissed his cheek, but her lips had been so soft and warm against his skin and at the same time so confident and solid. He quickly recovered, pointing to her clothes, "Yes, I must say that your taste is impeccable too."

She smiled at him, shifting her gaze to the dogs for a few seconds, then those black puddles locked on him, "So, how's your day going so far?"

Maya kept circling around her and Opal seemed less and less uncomfortable, her ears now low and her tail moving slightly behind her. The most excitement she would show for a stranger, Lorcan knew. But he was still happy that she was not hiding behind his legs.

He grinned at her, "Very well, I was looking forward to going out with a certain girl," he joked.

Elide snickered, looking him in the eye, "Yes, I was quite excited to meet this new friend of mine too." Then she turned to the dog pen - a huge section of the park reserved for animals, so that people wouldn't bother them while they too were running free. "Shall we go there?" she asked, pointing with one hand.

Lorcan nodded, urging the puppies to walk.

The second he released the leash to both of them, the dogs snapped forward, starting to run in the area. The two of them sat down on a bench just right by the fence and when he turned towards her, Elide was giving him a bright smile.

"What?" he asked her, arching an eyebrow.

She shrugged, "Nothing," she muttered, "I just thought you'd be a lot more chatty, you know."

Lorcan felt himself blush again. It was true, by message and the few times they had called each other, Lorcan had talked a lot and there had never been a second he hadn't had his line ready, but now it was almost as if he no longer had the ability to have a normal conversation. He gave her a frustrated look, "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," she giggled and Lorcan felt his chest tighten to that sound. She turned to the dogs when she heard Opal barking and he was breathless when her smile widened even further, seeing the silvery dog running in their direction, "What did you do this morning that was so important that you couldn't answer me?"

He forced his body to relax under her inquisitive eyes, "I had to convince my roommate that calling a plumber to fix the toilet was a much better idea than trying to solve the problem on our own and-". Lorcan puffed, passing a hand through his hair, "Sometimes he can be difficult."

Elide became pensive, "Are you talking about Rowan?"

He nodded, surprised that she remembered the name of his best friend.

"If it's any consolation, my roommates are headstrong too," she said as she opened her eyes wide, "and most of the time it's just as hard as childbirth to have someone else help us around the house," she sighed, "Asterin drives me crazy, too, for other reasons."

Lorcan raised an eyebrow, asking tentatively, "How come?"

He had heard about her roommates, Asterin and Manon, only a couple of times and Elide hardly ever answered his messages when the two girls were present, she always found an excuse to end the conversation.

Initially, Lorcan had thought that Elide simply wanted to spend time with them, but the more days passed the more she avoided him when they were home. He started to think that she didn't want them to know that she was talking to a loser like him, which hurt him more than it should. He was used to people avoiding him on the street and judging him too soon because of his grumpy attitude and the grimace always present on his face, but Elide had found out more about him than any other person had ever done in twice the time and he believed there was a connection between the two of them.

Perhaps it was not the same for her.

When she took a while to respond, he looked closely at her, seeing that she was biting her lip.  Maybe he shouldn't have asked. He should have left it alone.

Before he could tell her that they didn't need to talk about it, she said, "She always brings new people home and" she made a noise that sounded more like a grunt than a laugh, "I have absolutely nothing against having a different partner every night," she said.

Lorcan stiffened beside her and saw her eyes open wide. Now that he thought about it, she was hardly ever free in the evening to call him or to stay on face time.

She carried her hand to her mouth, snorting, "Oh God, I didn't mean it that way -" she stopped, "I don't do- I never- Shit." She cursed out loud and took a deep breath, "I meant Asterin is big and vaccinated and can do whatever she wants, I'd just rather she was less noisy." she concluded sighing and carrying a hand to her chest.

Lorcan looked at her gently, "You know," he offered to comfort her, "there would be nothing wrong with it if you had a-" he choked on his words and coughed, "a different partner every night."

The idea disturbed him more than expected. Not because he saw such a thing as distasteful - he, too, had had his golden days when he was younger by Rowan's side - but because the idea of someone else touching Elide as he had only once dared to dream about, gave him chills.

She looked at him carefully, frowning, and he had to shift his gaze to the dogs because he couldn't stand the emotion on her face. He could not decipher it.

He spoke in a low voice when he said, "But I'm not looking for something temporary or a fling, Elide." he gave her a thoughtful look, letting her see the sincerity in his eyes, "I'm quite tired of the occasional stories I find myself in every time."

His mind went straight to Maeve and a shiver ran down his spine.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he turned around, she was smiling, "I've never dated anyone, Lorcan," she whispered, as if she was afraid of his reaction. Her hand slipped away from his body and he missed that touch immediately, "I'm serious." Then she grimaced, "I've never even had a boyfriend, but that's a story for another date. Definitely not for our first time out."

Lorcan studied her carefully as Opal approached them and let herself be pampered by Elide. Maya somewhere playing with the other dogs.

She seemed upset and if the deep frown between her eyebrows was not enough to let him realize it, her bouncing leg confirmed his doubts.

Whatever they would talk about that night, neither of them would bring up the subject of relationships, and he felt relieved, if only slightly.

"I didn't want to meddle in your affairs, I just wanted to make it clear that I don't want anything casual." he bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees and crossing his fingers.

He was surprised when she murmured, "Neither do I."

He threw a stunned smile over his shoulder and she took a deep breath. Then she chuckled, scratching behind the dog's ears and making her mumble, "And not to mention Manon." She closed her eyes and dropped her head backwards, without letting go of her grip on Opal's snout, "That girl will be the end of me."

This time he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"She's been dating a guy for years and it seems like their fucking honeymoon phase never ends." she grunted, "Between the two of them I don't know which one makes me feel worse about my non-existent sex life."

Lorcan laughed, covering his face with his hands. He liked how comfortable she was talking about such things with him. All the girls he had dated up to that point had been uneasy just because he used bad words in his daily life, but Elide seemed to use them in turn, so she certainly wouldn't dump him and tell him she couldn't be with a longshoreman.

He leaned against the backrest, extending an arm behind her and maybe it was his imagination or maybe not, but it seemed to him that Elide moved closer to him. "I feel you, Rowan and Aelin, his girlfriend, are the loudest couple I know and it's so agonizing sometimes that I have to go to sleep at our neighbors' house. And even there I can still hear them, but at least I can fall asleep." she looked at him amused and shocked at the same time, "They have been our friends for years too," he explained quickly.

Elide nodded, "I have no neighbor to seek shelter from."

He caressed her shoulder lightly, "You can always camp in my living room, they tell me that the sofa is very comfortable."

She laughed, "Thank you," then looked at him, licking her lower lip, "I will consider your offer the next time Dorian or the stranger number two thousand will be our guest."

They didn't notice Maya running towards them until a big heavy black hairy ball threw itself between the two of them and Elide let go a noisy breath, laughing, when the dog gave her a muzzle against her chest with all her strength.

"Maya!" Lorcan scolded her, gasping. The dog wagged his tail on their legs, hitting them both in the face as she turned to lick his face first and then hers. Lorcan tried several times to push her away to prevent her from ruining Elide's light makeup, but the girl didn't seem to care at all and when Opal got on the bench, laying her snout on her leg, Lorcan gave up completely.

They played for more than half an hour with the dogs, even getting up at a certain point to throw sticks and balls and when the sun began to set, Elide turned towards him, short of breath for the various races made to chase the dogs, "What do you say if we head towards the restaurant?"

Lorcan sniffed, trying to catch his breath, "I'd love to."

Putting the leashes back on Maya and Opal, Elide asked him if she could carry one. He didn't even think as he passed her Opal's. Surely if he had let her carry Maya, it would have ended badly and she would have fallen over and he didn't feel like finishing the night in the emergency room at all.

They were walking along the perimeter of the park and Maya was pulling as usual, dictating the pace and Lorcan tried as much as possible to pull her back so they wouldn't have to run, but it seemed impossible.  He tried to slow down every time Elide started talking and by the sixth time she had to stop mid-sentence to catch her breath, Lorcan wondered if everything was alright.

At one point, she had taken his hand and now, while they were talking about this and that, he was trying not to squeeze her fingers too hard every time he had to squeeze the leash. The gesture was a spontaneous reaction of his body.

When Maya made them speed up one more time, Elide whimpered and stopped talking, stumbling slightly in her footsteps. Opal turned around in a flash towards her, stopping a few steps in front of them.

Lorcan halted, taking his hand away from Elide's and turning completely towards her. Her breath was wheezing and her forehead was sweating and he could see she was suffering. Panic poured into his stomach.

"El," he murmured that nickname silently, opening his eyes wide in front of her pained expression, "what is it?"

He, too, had been out of breath, but it was already twenty minutes they were walking along quietly, and even though Maya seemed to want to give them a slimming workout, she shouldn't have been so tired.

She closed her eyes, shifting her weight to her left leg and jerked, grunting, "It's nothing." she breathed, looking at him with blurred eyes, "Don't worry," she smiled slightly.

Nothing-

"I shouldn't worry?" he put his hand on her arm, pushing her gently toward a bench nearby, "It looks like you're about to die." the fear was clear in his voice. Elide held back another groan, but Lorcan heard her gasp under his grasp. "Are you having an asthma attack?"

He said the first thing that came to his mind and was surprised to hear Elide giggling beside him.

The second she sat down, her expression changed completely and she seemed to relax. She stretched her right leg forward and his eyes fell on her ankle. Only then, with her pants pulled up slightly and her shoe shifted, did he see the scars that marked her skin. He held his breath.

When he met Elide's gaze again, she had a guilty grimace on her face.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him.

Lorcan shook his head, closing his eyes, "Sorry, mh, why are you apologizing?"

Elide sighed, passing her hand over her face, "Normally I can walk on it for more than an hour without any problem, but with running before and Maya pulling now, I think I strained it too much and it's really hurting me." In the meantime she had leaned forward, her hands stretched out on her leg while she was massaging her calf going further and further down towards her ankle.

He sat down next to her, making sure that both dogs were sitting on the opposite side of her, so as not to risk worsening her already difficult situation.

He didn't know what to say, too many questions were going through his head.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have taken a cab or we could have met directly at the restaurant," he told her, putting his hand on her back when, touching the swollen part of her ankle, she whined.

Elide looked at him from under her eyelashes, "Because guys normally don't want to go out with cripples. Or a girl with a cane." Then she turned down again, "And I really wanted to go out with you tonight."

It warmed Lorcan's heart, but he was still annoyed that he made her think he was that kind of person and that she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth - or hide it from him. Then he felt sick at the thought of how many more times Elide had had to face that conversation and who knows how many more times someone had told her that they were no longer interested after finding out the truth.

He swallowed, choosing his next words wisely, "I don't care if you have scars or if you have difficulty walking without support, Elide." He told her sincerely, "I understand why you didn't tell me, but I'd rather you didn't hide these things from me from now on."

He would not ask her questions about how or why her leg was damaged in such a way.

Elide sat up, covering her face with her hands, "Do you think you could slow Maya down a little bit?" the sound muffled by her fingers, "The restaurant is right on that street." she pointed out a road only a hundred meters ahead. Then she looked at him and her eyes were shiny and Lorcan's throat tightened.

"Are you alright?"

He immediately regretted the question. It was obvious she wasn't.

It didn't seem to bother Elide in the slightest. She nodded, then moved her foot in a circular pattern, biting her lower lip so hard that Lorcan thought she was going to tear it off. "Yes, I'm fine," she said with wheezing breath.

Lorcan looked at her with worried eyes, "You don't look well though."

Elide stared at him taking deep breaths, "Because the bones in my ankle are rubbing against each other and I have no water behind me to take painkillers," she said honestly, "But I can make it to the restaurant and on the way back I'll take a cab or call Manon or Asterin to pick me up."

Lorcan looked at her and then the restaurant, then her again, "Are you sure you can make it?"

"What other options do I have?" she smiled at him.

He nodded, "You're right."

She sighed and put her forehead over his shoulder. It seemed so familiar to Lorcan that he risked tearing the skin off his face so quickly he smiled.

"Can we rest for five minutes?" she asked him in a tired voice.

Lorcan put his arm around her shoulders and held her closer, feeling brave and kissing her temple, "We can rest all night as far as I am concerned."

Elide made a verse of approval and when Lorcan looked at her, he noticed that her eyes were closed and although she still had a sweaty forehead and a grieving expression, she was smiling.

They sat down for more than five minutes and only when Elide was able to take more than five steps without flinching, Lorcan decided that they could go to the restaurant. An arm tied around her hips to support her and the two leashes tightened in his free hand.

He did not know for what grace of God, but even Maya seemed to have realized the situation, and had slowed down her pace drastically, trotting alongside Opal undisturbed.

Inay, the owner of the place, had made them sit inside, near the large window overlooking the river, and there, Elide and Lorcan enjoyed the first of a thousand other dinners they would share.

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[majesticbrownjawn]

Delicate Part Three

Part One

Part Two

They rode quietly back to their side of town, Violet in a contemplative state of awe the whole way.

How'd he know her name? Maybe it was a freaky, weird coincidence.

She was completely taken by E. How'd he will her to give herself to him so quickly? She hadn't done anything like since her 20's. Her entire being wanted to stay there in Oakland, which let her brain know she had to do the opposite.

She had to stay away from him.

"You have to stay away from him," Trina said as she was climbing out of Violet's car. It was like her best friend had heard her thoughts and repeated them to make sure your got the picture.

"What?"

"He's no good, Vi," she asserted.

"How would you know? You just met him yourself." Violet's tone was defensive and she didn't know why, but Trina was absolutely right.

"I-I just know his type...AND know he had you with your drawers hanging around your ankles when I found you," she answered with an air of satisfaction in her voice. "God knows how many other women he's had like looking that."

Violet's eyes bulged in horror. She was always the more level-headed of the two. Sensible and practical were her middle names. Her role in their relationship was the responsible one. Violet relished in being the wise friend who always seemed to have it together and just a few hours with E was already tarnishing her image.

"Did you see him though?" Violet was trying her best to appeal to Trina's weakness for attractive men. She couldn't pick a guy with character to save her life, but they were almost always fine, and Violet was an eyewitness to Trina's inventory of E when she introduced them at the party.

Trina huffed and folded her arms at Violet disapprovingly.

"Fine. I already decided I would stay away from him. That's why I ran out of there so fast."

****

Violet loved food.

It was no wonder, though. She didn't just magically wake up one day in her pillowy-soft body.

But she turned that love for food into a craft, and studied culinary arts in Paris. Chef V's years of experience working under the best chefs in Europe made her a shoe-in for one of the few Michelin-starred restaurants in the States. She was the only Black woman executive chef of a restaurant of this caliber, which was both an honor and a shame to her. She wanted nothing more than to help other Black women in the her industry come up, but found the balance of trying to stay on top of her game and making time to give back a challenge. Doing anything other than working was a challenge for her. Maybe that was why she was so easily swayed by someone like E.

Her thoughts briefly went back to that day, now two months in the past—and she shuttered a bit at the thought of him. She would have been lying if she said she was glad he never contacted her. But she knew not hearing from him was for the best.

The sound of clanking fine china and sizzling kobe beef buzzed around her as she stood in the center of an upscale kitchen barking out orders like Gordon Ramsey. This kind of power gave her a high that was as exhilarating as it was exhausting. Everyone looked to her for direction and approval, a position she was quite familiar with.

Her younger siblings looked to her for guidance after her parents' death as a teenager and from then on, people kind of just sensed the leader in her. She was forced into being this person at a young age—maybe too young – but eventually embraced it. The consequence was that she came off as a snobby, slightly controlling bitch who thought she was smarter than everyone else.

Almost everyone.

Violet ran a tight ship and mistakes were not tolerated, so when her sous chef Suzie ran into the kitchen with beet-red cheeks and a half-eaten plate, she was curious as to what the flustered woman would say.

"There's a man out there," Suzie whispered.

"Speak up, Suzie. I can barely hear you."

"He said his steak is undercooked."

A collective silence fell over the kitchen as everyone stopped to see what Chef V would do next. She jerked her head back and studied the steak on the returned plate.

It was cooked to perfection.

She smacked her teeth before heading to the kitchen doors to peer out of its circular windows. She scanned the restaurant briefly, trying to pick up on who she thought the picky customer might be. She usually had an eye for patrons who liked to complain in hopes of a free meal, but she couldn't quite figure it out tonight.

"Who sent it back?"

"Him...over there at table 46."

Table 46 was the best table in the house. You could see the entire city skyline from its positioning and it was purposefully tucked away for the sake of privacy. Violet had served numerous celebrities and wealthy diners at table 46. She didn't think to look over there initially. When she did, the silhouette of strong, broad shoulders caught her eye. She pushed the doors open with frustration, ready to take on this tasteless customer, but as she marched forward, more of the man's physique came into focus. And the man's physique was familiar.

His hair—locs – specifically, was finally what caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Suzie, following a bit too closely, crashed into Violet, sending the returned plate cascading to the floor. The commotion caused half the restaurant to look in their direction and had Violet not been so caught up in the man, she would have been embarrassed.

But she was caught up.

Violet audibly gasped when he turned to face her. But it wasn't him. It wasn't E. As she dismissed herself back to the kitchen, she felt a bit of sadness that the picky customer wasn't the man who so easily made her feel open enough to do things she'd never done, but always dreamed of doing—especially as it pertained to sex. Unfortunately, there was a side of her that she'd never explored. She'd never found the right person she felt safe enough to do those things with, so she fantasized about them instead. That is, until she met him.

"Just cook him another one," she flatly told Suzie, completely defeated. Her sous chef quickly got to work on a replacement steak, while Violet slipped away to her small office in the rear of the kitchen.

"You would work at a bougie ass place like this, wouldn’t you?”

His voice caused an immediate reaction from her body, though she refused to let him know it. Part of her was angry, seeing him after all this time, smiling smugly at her in her office. She stared at him sternly before speaking.

"How'd you get back here?"

"You thought that nigga was me, didn't you?"

"Ye—you didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine, babygirl." Her stomach fluttered at that name. Then she thought about him figuring out her real name.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Lucky guess," he smirked. "Your name is really Violet?" He said sarcastically.

She huffed and pointed to the embroidered script of her name and title on her chef coat.

"Lucky guess, my ass. How'd you get back here, E?"

He took a seat in front of her, as confident and fine as ever. The fitted turtleneck he wore had her feeling vulnerable. A bearded gentleman in a turtleneck was something she could hardly ever resist. So this man, though far from what she considered a gentleman, would certainly be a challenge to overcome. She'd already succumb to his charm once and she couldn't blame that time on piece of clothing.

She remained standing in between his obnoxiously widespread legs. He leaned back into the cushiony chair, totally relaxed.

And in control.

"One of my girls—" he cleared his throat unnecessarily. "I know one of the hostesses."

"Why are you here? Did you know I worked here?"

"Why you asking all these questions? You not happy to see me?" He leaned forward and rested an elbow to his knee.

"I don't have time for this. You come up in here playing games on the busiest night of the week. You can see yourself out, E."

She quickly side-stepped his legs on a mission to make it to the door, but he caught her hand just before she was out of reach.

"Where are you going, Violet." His question wasn't a question at all.

"What do you want from me?" She was sincere in her query. Why'd he show up here, two months later?

"I wanna fuck you, girl. Make them pretty ass eyes roll to the back of your head again."

Them eyes—her eyes, broke contact with his and drifted to his crotch. His dick print was visible on his inner thigh. She wanted to touch it so badly. She hadn't gotten the chance to the first time.

"You see it," he smirked.

It was hard to miss.

"Got me hard as fuck watching you do your thing, Chef V," he teased.

His hand led her back in front of him.

"Maybe I'll let you boss me around one day like you do these peons in yo kitchen."

She gulped loudly when he stood up, his physical presence looming over her making her feel small again, just how she liked.

E kissed her with enough power to topple her over, but the desk was there to catch her.

He didn't stop when her position suddenly lowered under him, he just readjusted and leaned down into her. She moaned shamefully when his tongue wiggled into her mouth and his hand groped her breast. The thick chambray material of her chef jacket was getting in the way of her feeling the full sensation of his hands and it frustrated her. The way his adept fingers teased her nipples the day they met was all she could think about when she moved his hand under her top.

"I guess you did miss me, Chef V."

"Shut up," she groaned. She didn't need him reminding her of the obvious. Reminding her what she was doing was uncharacteristic and stupid.

"I missed you."

Did he really just try that playa shit on her? I missed you? The sirens she heard when she met him at his house party had officially made their return.

"I said shut up."

"Aye," his voice was calm but his eyes were ablaze.

There was a passion in them that quickly reminded her of E choking her in his workroom. She was terrified at first, but when he realized it was her and his hands loosened around her neck, she realized she very much liked the way they felt. Warm and firm.

Invigorating.

"I said you could boss me around one day, not

TO-day."

His hands roughly gripped the back of her knees and pulled her closer. Their middles met and she couldn't help but grind up against his erection as he nibbled and sucked on her lips.

"You really just came here to fuck me, E?" She managed to get out.

"Yea."

Violet didn't expect such a direct answer. She kind of wished he'd lied to her. That he told her she was special and that he wanted to get to know her.

But who was she kidding?

She didn't really want to get to know him. He was dangerous and not the type of man she could settle down with. This was all they could ever have.

Good sex.

No—great, amazing, superb sex.

Top two, not two sex.

The best sex she'd ever had.

She prayed it wouldn't be the best she would ever have. But was fantastic sex worth the space he took up in her head the last few months?

E started kissing her again, successfully distracting her from overthinking. He'd started unbuttoning her jacket when a loud knock on the door startled her. She stared at him like she was looking for him to tell her what to do. He shrugged and kissed her again.

"They'll go away," he whispered.

Another knock.

"Hold on!" She yelled, trying her best to quickly button herself back up. E rolled his eyes as he watched her frantically try to gather herself.

"...Stay," he said, calmly unbuttoning each button right after she'd fasten them. He hoped a kiss to her temple would convince her to remain in his presence a while longer. She contemplated it until she saw the handle of her office door turning.

She yanked herself loose from his grasp and stormed out of her office. She didn't even look at the person who'd been knocking. All she saw was a blur of someone in black. Violet didn't even get mad that they'd opened her door without her permission. She was grateful in a way. Grateful for an escape. God knows how long and how loud they would have been in there hunching.

She took a moment to compose herself before returning to her duties. Violet was literally hot all over. She stealthily grabbed a cup of ice from a machine towards the back of the kitchen. There was a spot just past her office that was a hideaway for her when she didn't want to be found by the few people brave enough to knock on her door, which made her wonder who knocked on her door tonight. It wasn't someone from the kitchen. All of her staff wore white. The thoughts of what the mystery person had interrupted with E quickly flooded her thoughts.

The few top buttons of her jacket were still unfastened thanks to E. She slid a piece of ice up and down her neck and across the top of her chest. Her mind raced back to him. His hot hands grazing her flesh, inching closer to her breasts. Her mind was gone and her hands, with the ice in them, were making circles over her sensitive, hardened tips. She wanted to cum so badly. She focused on him. The way his turtleneck clung to his muscular arms, hinting at the wonder that was his scar-laden body. His scent was still on her from being so close moments ago.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

The way his tongue explored her mouth. The way he grabbed her like she belonged to him. The ice between her fingers soon melted and her digits quickly found their way into her panties, hungrily applying pressure to her clit. It didn't take much effort to make herself cum after being deprived of him for eight weeks. The thrill of seeing him was more than enough to excite her in ways she'd never felt before.

But why?

She chuckled to herself as she washed her hands before heading back to the main area of the kitchen. He had her acting totally different and part of her liked it.

The look of relief on her sous chef Suzie's face was comical as he drew close to her.

"Thank God you're back, Chef V."

"Everything okay?"

"Yea, I guess. You know I just get nervous without you here. I just don't want anything bad to happen when you leave me in charge."

Suzie was a young woman in her mid-twenties. Violet took her under her wing because she had great potential and because she was Black. Mentoring her was the least she could do to give back to the next generation, but sometimes Suzie was a worrywart and annoyed Violet to no end. She could already feel the high of her orgasm wearing off.

"Did you remake table 46's steak?"

"Yes. He loved it."

"Okay and did the kitchen catch on fire while I was gone?" She looked around in an extra manner for added effect.

Suzie shook her head no.

"See? Everything is fine. You need to relax."

Violet took her place back at the center of the kitchen, putting finishing touches on plates in the special way she's been gifted to, and even took moments to praise or constructively critique the work of her staff. She could see how pleased they were to have her working side-by-side with them and made a mental note to have more nights in the kitchen like tonight.

Minus the part with E.

And her private moment with the ice.

***

The restaurant was not only heralded for some of the best dishes in the world, but it was also home to one of the country's most expensive delicacies—a chocolate cake covered in gold leaves. It was rare someone ordered it, because despite the wealthy clientele they served, a $15,000 dessert wasn't something people ordered every day. When Suzie told Violet table 46 had ordered the expensive ass cake, she gave her an impressed look and headed for the refrigerated safe where they kept the golden flecks.

She made her way to the back of the kitchen, just past her office and private corner. As she strolled back by her office with the gold leaves in hand, she thought she heard something — a voice — on the other side of her office door. She brushed it off and kept walking, but then remembered she never saw him leave. But to be fair, she never saw his creepy ass enter the kitchen in the first place, so whatever she thought she heard had to be her mind playing with her.

Violet dropped the leaves off with her pastry chef and tried to busy herself with work that did nothing to keep her brain from thinking about who may or may not be still in her office. Finally frustrated enough with herself and him for making her crazy, she marched back to her office, her chest filled with air and ready to go off of need be.

She flung the door open but was quickly deflated by the sight in front of her. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on E standing in the corner of her office with a woman on her knees in front of him. His brows were knitted together tightly and the intense look of pleasure on his face made her pussy throb with want. E slowly brought his eyes to Violet standing at the door watching him getting his dick sucked. She knew that he knew she had been there a few moments before giving her his attention. It felt like he knew she'd arrive at the exact time she did. Just in time for his show.

Violet stood there frozen, mouth slightly agape in a mixture of shock, jealousy and desire.

The woman on her knees wore all black and was sporting hair extensions that trailed down her back. Violet concluded she was the woman who knocked on her office door earlier, likely the hostess E slipped up and called one of his "girls." Violet could see why she was. She could suck a mean dick. The woman's mouth slowly trailed up his shaft, saliva dripping down her chin. The chef looked in awe at his cock, seeing him fully hard from this vantage point had her wondering how she took him so easily. E's dick disappeared into the hostesses' throat and it was enough to make him groan.

"Yea. Just like that." He was staring at Violet when he said it, like she was the one on her knees in front of him. The hostesses moaned at his praise, but he wasn't talking to her.

Violet had quietly closed the door behind her and was palming her sensitive breasts. Her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds in the room.

His labored breathing.

The hostesses' lude slurping and gagging.

Her own barely audible mewls.

"Look at me."

Violet knew he was talking to her without opening her eyes. Somehow, the hostess was still unaware of a third party in the room with her and E, stealing his attention from the good work she was doing on his dick.

Violet's eyes remained closed.

"Open your eyes." His command was surprisingly sweet, but laced with urgency.

"Iljshfhro," the hostess garbled. Violet assumed the woman was trying to tell E was indeed looking at him, but the hot dick in her mouth was prohibiting her from being fully understood.

Violet's eyes opened involuntarily from quietly laughing at how ridiculous the woman on her knees sounded. E smirked at Violet, unable to control his smile as he looked at her amused expression.

"C'mere, baby."

The smile had widened across his face, making the caps on his bottom row gleam against the soft lighting in the office. Perhaps the warm smile he gave her was the trick to getting her close to him. He felt relieved when she took a step forward, he was growing impatient and was dangerously close to begging her to come to him. E's desire for her had ballooned over the course of eight weeks and was on the verge of exploding. After meeting and subsequently fucking her that day, his mind frequently revisited their dalliance, sometimes in the most inopportune moments, like when he was blowing the backs out of other women. The most recent time it happened, he went fully soft inside one of his favorites when he looked down and realized she wasn't Violet.

He thought not only of the way her ample backside bounced beautifully against his scarred flesh, but of her wit and bold personality. Then there was the way he naturally felt possessive of her. E's teeth gritted together when he thought of how his homeboy looked at her gripping onto his bannister as they had sex. He came to the conclusion that he had to have her again, despite the nagging voice in his head telling him otherwise. At the least, he hoped sexing her again would get her out of his system. But in the moments when he was honest with himself, he knew the opposite was a more likely outcome.The hostess' head shifted in the direction of the door, but E's voice stopped her before she saw Violet approaching them.

"Don't look at her," he told the woman. Her head snapped back to its original positioning. E said it like he wanted to protect Violet. Like he knew Violet wouldn't be ok with the thirsty hostess knowing she was just as parched and needy for him.

E looked back at V with more tender eyes than he'd just had with the other woman. Violet was unsure if she was okay with his tone with hostess, even if it was to her advantage. Nevertheless, she moved until she was standing in front of him, the hostess wedged between them on the floor and looking to E for permission to do anything.Violet was captivated once again by his masculine beauty. And she didn't know it, but he was just as taken by her. He licked his lips as he stared at her plump ones, longing to tug and taste them again. He broke eye contact with her to look down at the pitiful soul under him. Waiting for direction on what she should do next.

"Get back to sucking my dick. Now," he commanded.

He shoved the woman's head into his groin and she happily continued gagging on him. Violet stepped even closer to him. Close enough that her stance called for her to straddle each of her feet just outside the hostesses' legs. Ever the obedient sub, the woman never looked behind her to see the woman hovering over her. She only did want he wanted, and E wanted her servicing his dick at the moment.

E reached out to grab the back of Violet's neck and kissed her feverishly. Her hands instantly found a place on his pebbled chest. The sensation of his scars against her palms sent tingles throughout her body and she fleetingly wondered again just what they meant and how he got them. She watched as he painfully pulled himself away from her and took a long look at his dick making its way in and out of the hostesses' mouth. He watched it like he didn't recognize it as an extension of himself.

"You see how fat my shit is for you?"

Violet didn't answer. She only continued staring with her lip wedged between her teeth at the scene she'd now become a part of. Her eyes struggled to keep focus on just his dick, though. E was too entrancing just to focus on one thing, even if that thing was his long, thick and currently, sinfully shiny dick.

Violet watched the way his fingers massaged the hostess' scalp while she swallowed him, making his biceps flex in a way that made Violet want to snatch the other woman off of him and take her place on her knees—mouth open and tongue out.

"You wanna suck it, don't you?"

"Yes," Violet squeaked before she realized what she was doing. E really had her caught up. She covered her mouth in shame.

He shook his head at her, laughing at her slip up. "Not yet, babygirl. Sit your cute ass over there."

Violet quickly plopped down in an upholstered chair a few feet behind her.

"Pull them titties out for me. I want to see you play with them while I cum for you."

V felt an uncontrollable shiver come over her that literally rattled every muscle in her body. It felt eerily similar to the feeling she got right before she orgasmed. She unbuttoned her chef coat and just barely touched herself. The light passes over her nipples were sending her in a way that felt as intense as squeezing them normally would. The sight before him was too much for him to hold on to any longer. E's mouth curled into the shape of an 'O' before his eyes briefly fluttered shut.

"I'm bout to cuuum...Gotdamn, shit baby."

His eyes opened to look at Violet and he pulled himself out of the hostess' mouth, preferring to use his hand to finish himself off. He tugged at his dick while looking at her gently rolling her fingertips across her engorged nipples. The waitress knew him well enough to calculate the exact moment he would cum. She stuck her tongue out in excitement and anticipation of his seed, admittedly in love with the feeling of his hot cum plastered across her face and tits. It was always her reward for being a good girl for him.

But she wouldn't enjoy one of her favorite parts of sex with him today. Instead of painting her with his orgasm, E shot his cum over her shoulder and in the direction of the woman sitting in the chair behind her. It shot out of him like nothing Violet had ever seen, so much so that some of it landed on the hem of her top. She stared down at the creamy substance and licked her lips, tempted to taste it.

"Get out." E's voice was low and void of energy. That nut took a lot out of him.

Violet remained in place, fixated on the jizz on her jacket.

"Babygirl," he called again. Violet looked up at him. His eyelids were heavy, but the look was sexy on him. He tilted his head and looked at her for a moment before shifting his head in the direction of the door. "You should leave."

"But I—," she started. He shook his head at her, silently telling her not to speak. In this moment, Violet didn't care about the waitress knowing who she was. All she cared about was staying with him. She knew what eight weeks without him was like and the yearning she felt for a man she'd only been around for a few hours was agonizing. And pitiful. She stood her ground—silently–for a few moments, hoping he'd demand the other woman to leave instead.

"Go," he told Violet once more. This time she finally turned to make her way to the door, but not before giving him a pout that she was completely oblivious of. Her feet were going one way, but her head was turned and looking at E. He kept eye contact with her until the hostess tugged on him.

"Why didn't you give me your cum?" the woman whined. "Wasn't I good for you?"

E let out a sigh, but it didn't feel like a frustrated one.

"We need to talk," he told the hostess as Violet reluctantly left them alone in her office again.

————————

I low key have no idea where this is going lol. It was a supposed to be a one shot. We’ll see what happens. Thanks for all the love on this series so far🖤

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[thronesofshadows]

Salt Bridges (pt. 1) || Nicole & Evelyn

TIMING: A couple weeks before Christmas LOCATION: Al’s Diner PARTIES: @nicsalazar​ and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Nicole and Evelyn go out for dinner and find out they might have a little more in common than they previously realized.

Seated in the most secluded spot she could find, Nicole’s fingers picked at the extra hair tie on her wrist, looking up every time the door opened and the wrong person walked inside the diner. She was never early to any kind of appointments. Being early meant second guessing everything she thought she  knew. Questioning whether she had made it to the right place, on the right day or at the right time. Worrying about plans getting cancelled and not getting the corresponding text. Going back to recheck the information multiple times, though she had done it a hundred times before. She was always five minutes late to everything, perfectly calculated, to avoid that. She had to be early for this one, however. Against her better judgement she had invited Evelyn to a diner. A very loud one, it seemed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that food had been a bad idea. The worst kind of activity to do with someone she had only met once. The pauses, awkward silences, the sounds, the mess. Terrible, just terrible. She breathed out, forcing herself to not go there. Pointless to dwell on it when she was already sitting there, fifteen minutes earlier than they had agreed on, going over the menu for the tenth time. Besides, Evelyn had to be the nicest person she had met so far, she probably wouldn’t care. She wanted to spend time with her, right? No? She had never been to Al’s diner before, but she quickly understood the popularity. The smell was driving her insane. When Evelyn walked through the door, her frown finally relaxed. She sighed and offered a shy smile, keeping her gaze on the woman until she spotted her. She averted her eyes down to the menu as she approached.  

Nicole was unlike anyone Evelyn had ever met. She didn’t usually eat, and Al’s was certainly not her usual sort of place, but if that was where Nicole felt most at home, she would agree. Though it seemed a bit contrary to what she knew about Nicole. She hardly minded. She could easily get a salad here and pick at it, let Nicole talk about whatever she needed to - or wanted to. She’d arrived a couple minutes early. The buzzing of the diner would have been overwhelming if she concentrated too much on it, and she was more than a bit puzzled about why Nicole had chosen such a place. Perhaps she had a certain craving for a burger. Regardless, Evelyn adjusted the skirt of her dress and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her head before she pushed the door open. Nicole was already there, she realized, gaze focusing in on the other woman. She made her way over to the booth, one in a far back corner that wasn’t right in the middle of everything. Okay, that made more sense given what she knew about Nicole. “Apologies for keeping you waiting.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, nodding at the menu. “What looks good?”

She shook her head dismissively, eyes darting to the clock behind the register when Evelyn apologized. “Hey...uh, think you’re right on time, I just— ” she trailed off, unsure where she was going with that sentence. She just needed some extra preparation. Her fingers drummed on the menu, waiting for Evelyn to get comfortable in her seat. Fortunately for Nicole, the table provided enough space between them. She would’ve hated having to worry over the woman stepping into her personal space for the entire evening. Her biggest concern was the eye contact, almost impossible to avoid when Evelyn was sitting in front of her. Out in a diner, really? Bad idea. Terrible idea. Should’ve asked her for a walk instead. She cleared her throat to keep those thoughts at bay, giving the other woman a strained smile. “What looks...good?”, the repetition only served to buy herself more time to think. She lifted her eyebrows, seemingly forgetting everything she had read a minute ago. “I’ve...never been here before—first time” she couldn't recall who had recommended the diner to her, but they had clearly made a lasting impression for her to come up with it on the spot. By the smell of it, the burgers definitely won. And the fries. The chicken too. She couldn’t hate the waffles either, despite the milk. “Gonna take a wild guess here...but I think the burgers are kinda their thing” she let out a chuckle and pointed at a particular picture hanging on the wall, displaying a monstrous looking burger. “Would you eat that one?”

“I am often early, but it pleases me to see that you are, too.” Evelyn couldn’t help but smile again. There was something about being around Nicole that made her feel calm and at peace with herself. Evelyn often considered herself a fairly calm person, but there were people, whether she wished to admit it or not, who brought about a feeling of even greater calm, and Nicole already seemed to be one of those people. Even if she was human, she was a delightful partner in conversation, even if Evelyn could tell that this didn’t always come so easily for her. Furthermore, despite the fact that it had taken a good amount of persuasion, she was willing to let Evelyn dote on her and purchase things for her, which was always a plus in Evelyn’s book. “I cannot say that I am an expert on any of this,” she flipped through the menu, glossy painted nails tapping against the plastic. “Well, it is a popular place in town, or so the rumors say - it is often filled up from what I can tell.” She crossed her legs. “Well, I do think that is how diners go. I - well, no, not unless it is vegetarian, but I fully endorse you trying it. After all, is there not the cliché of when in Rome - and I am well-aware that we are not in Rome, and that I explain my jokes too much but I say go for it. I think I may get a salad.”

“About that…” her laugh was strained and nervous, but felt the need to explain. “I just— had to make sure I got a booth I wouldn’t...” pick up too many things. “Get overwhelmed by—  Sorry to disappoint but, I’m not— I’m not usually...this punctual” it felt strange being honest about it, and though her eyes darted everywhere in the room to avoid looking at Evelyn, she preferred it. Nicole was sure the other woman didn’t need the explanation, but seemed to be the way things were meant to flow between them. She glanced down at the menu again, but her brain was fixed on Evelyn’s tapping, distracting her. Most of the time she was capable of tuning out things like that, anxious thoughts occupying her brain enough to ignore sensory stimuli. Being so out of her comfort zone appeared to be affecting her in different ways. She tried her best not to pay close attention to Evelyn. Felt like intruding. The words pulled her back to focus. She assumed vegetarian options existed, but Al’s wouldn’t be the place to get them. “No, it’s...salad might be the better option”. Could she eat that burger? Yes, she was certainly capable of finishing that. Wouldn’t be pretty at all, however. She had a healthy appetite, and blamed it on being part-animal. “The…” she glanced at her with narrowed eyes, repeating some words under her breath. Cliché of Rome? What was she talking about? Sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall what the saying meant. “I— I don’t…” Her smile was sheepish, but she was saved by the waiter approaching to take their order. She nodded to Evelyn. “I think she’s...her mind’s made up.”

“Of course. Do not worry, even if you are only punctual this time, that is still more than enough.” Evelyn grinned. “Remember, this is all about whatever works best as a distraction for you, and if this is working, then I shall certainly not fault you for that.” Had she been a more tactile person, and had she assumed Nicole was, too, Evelyn might have reached out to offer a hand to the other woman, but things being what they were, she instead held back. Not yet, and maybe not ever, but she enjoyed Nicole’s company regardless of anything else, and for now, that was what mattered most of all. “Salads are usually nice, and even if it is not of the highest quality, I did not come here for the food, solely.” Especially because I do not actually need human food in order to survive, though it was not as though she could tell that to Nicole. Not now, at least - perhaps, if they continued to get along as well as they had thus far, she would be able to be more open, but not yet. “Sorry, it is a cliché. When you are somewhere, you might as well do what is customary. Or something to that degree.” She shrugged, glancing up at the waiter. “I have. I would love a Greek salad and just water to drink.” She flipped her menu shut and let Nicole order, watching as the waiter walked away before focusing back on the other woman. “So, how is this for a distraction so far?”

“Right, yeah—“ Nicole let out a nervous breath, a thankful half-smile reached her lips. It was slightly overwhelming that Evelyn always knew the right thing to say. Almost too understanding. She wondered if that had come with all the training she experienced as a kid. A fleeting, less logical thought followed. Could she—? Maybe she was capable of reading minds. Crazy, sure. She had seen weirder things in her life, though. Shaking her head, she frowned at the absurdity. People just happened to be good sometimes, she reminded herself. “Yeah—- wouldn’t pay for a restaurant salad, really…” Maybe being an ex model had something to do with her concern for healthy eating, but if Evelyn wanted salad, then she’d pay for it. “Good thing you aren’t though… cause this one’s on me, okay?” quirking an eyebrow, she raised a finger at her. She had to remind her, just in case. Yes, she had invited Evelyn for more than food. It was strange. When they talked online, she knew exactly why she had needed her company. But now, everything seemed incredibly hazy. Something about...bones and pens? Why would she need to talk to Evelyn about that? She watched in silence as the woman placed her order, her pulse racing at the thought of going next. She asked for a beer first. That would put her into a chattier mood. Then she tripped over her words to order a chicken sandwich, after she was assured it came with a portion of fries. Would she eat that? She wasn’t sure, but at least the hard part was done. “I— uh...never been more distracted in my life” it was the truth, at least. Whether it was a good thing or not it remained to be seen. How long could the food take to be ready, 15-20 minutes? That was a lot of time to fill with conversation. She could get through it. “Thank you, by the way—for coming,” she lifted her eyebrows as she met the other woman’s gaze, surprised by her own voice. “Gonna owe you...a couple guitar shows.”    

Everything with Nicole felt strange and new, even if the overall pattern of their conversation was hardly anything abnormal. Evelyn shrugged. “Some are good, maybe this will be one of those cases.” Not that she entirely minded either way. Human food was human food in the end, and though she certainly preferred that which tasted better, it never served to nourish her in the way that nightmares did. “Okay. Only because you did permit me to purchase that guitar for you and because I find myself rather fond of your company.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. She enjoyed the time she had spent with Nicole so far as well as the conversations that they had, and so she saw no reason to do anything other than agree to spend more time with the other woman. “It is okay. Sometimes we find ourselves more keen to be distracted than others, and this is no fault of yours. There was a time a bit ago when I found myself unable to sleep for a long while and I know my focus was less than ideal.” She offered a shrug at the other woman’s remark. “Of course. I find your company enjoyable, and I have been looking forward to spending more time with you ever since we have met.”

Nicole nodded, despite being suspicious of the diner’s ability to deliver a decent salad. Though if Evelyn wanted to order something else after, she wouldn’t have a problem with that. “Good” her hand tapped the table with finality, as if her words settled their agreement. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table, struggling to shake the awkwardness off. She didn’t understand why Evelyn liked her company. A woman like her was likely to know people far more interesting than her. Better conversationalists too. But she was trying not to second guess herself too much. Unable to find the right words, she moved onto the next topic. “Was that— were you under stress or…?” She understood the connection between lack of sleep and lack of focus, but it was often triggered by something. “Never been too good at sleeping” her gaze lifted slightly at the admission, focusing on Evelyn’s shoulder. Her leg bounced under the table. For the longest time, she was haunted by the thought of going to bed and not waking up again, her body transforming in her sleep. “Guess... I was bound to end up with issues” it would’ve been easier to see a specialist, she reminded herself, though that would imply she was willing to get better. Her nerves caused her to laugh again, as Evelyn repeated she was good company. She was genuinely puzzled as to why. What had she offered that one time that seemed to go over well with Evelyn? Maybe she could keep doing that, with other people. Did people give each other feedback like that? Deep down she knew there was no magic formula. Maybe Evelyn was just trying to be nice. Embarrassed, heat rose to her cheek. “That’s...yeah— I think I...I do good with...bossy people. Not that— you’re...” she noticed the waiter approach, and she breathed out in relief “it’s not...not a bad thing”.

Evelyn sighed for a small moment, though it was evident that it was not out of frustration but merely out of relief in the comfort and ease that Nicole’s company provided. “Of course.” She watched Nicole’s fingers drumming against the table. “In a manner of speaking.” She didn’t wish to go into it with too much detail; didn’t want to risk explaining seeing giant eyes - Nicole didn’t deserve having to deal with that. “Luckily I was able to work through it, and that is all behind me.” Other things weren’t, other odd sleep behaviors weighed heavily on her mind - because she wasn’t supposed to have faults with her sleep, if anything she was supposed to be the one in control, particularly the negative ones that had seemingly overrun the town. “Oh? That is the case with a number of people. Even when you were a child?” She looked over to Nicole, though there was not a speck of judgement present on her face.  “Well, I do not think this guarantees issues. Sleep is incredibly complex, you should not fault yourself for anything.” She bit her lip to hold back a laugh at Nicole’s next comment. “You can call my bossy. I am well-aware I can be, though I think that the tutors I had as a child preferred strong-willed.” She fought away the urge to roll her eyes. Evelyn watched the waiter come back over, dropping off their drinks and a few tabletop condiments - including salt. Evelyn grabbed her drink quickly. Salt wasn’t even a proper condiment, though she supposed many people liked to have it on top of their dishes. “Well, so far so good, I think.” She nodded. “How are you finding it?”

“I’m glad it’s in the past,” she nodded. The fact that Evelyn had managed to work through her sleeping issues gave Nicole some sort of comfort. Maybe it would pass, maybe she just had to be patient. “Light sleeper” she raised her hand, as if she was taking the blame on something. “Noises and...I’m—sensitive to it,” she shrugged, debating whether to continue or not. “It got worse after…” no, she should’ve stopped. Being a light sleeper was one thing, nightmares were something entirely different. “Bad stuff happened” the tight smile she gave after her words felt odd, but she didn’t Evelyn to feel uncomfortable. She was used to bad sleep anyway. Wasn’t so bad. “Strong-willed, huh?” she repeated, her eyebrows rising as she broke into a smile. “Yeah, you terrorized those tutors, I bet” she pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her grin. Although she felt for the adults in charge, she found the thought of a spoiled little girl bossing tutors around very entertaining. Why did a kid need so much tutoring anyway? She should’ve been playing free outside. Regardless, bossy was good in her mind. She needed bossy in her life. She was never inclined to take the lead on anything.  Someone willing to push a little was a change she welcomed. She leaned back in her seat, letting the waiter place the condiments and the drinks. She shook her head when he offered to pour it in a glass. The bottle was fine. Without even realizing, her hand ghosted over the table before reaching for the salt shaker. Instinctively, she slid it to the end of the table, towards Evelyn. Then she rearranged the rest of the containers. She often had salt in her meals, she even favored that type of food, but she didn’t want to risk the chance of an accident in public. Her distraction meant she had lost track of their conversation. She looked up at the question, eyes widening. “How am I— finding what? oh...” she glanced down at the beer in her hand. She lifted it, sending Evelyn a questioning look.

“I am as well, as the case may be.” Evelyn looked over at Nicole with a kind expression. She didn’t wish to lie to someone who may well have been human, but explaining that her sleep expertise went beyond just being a childhood (and still) bookworm with too much time on her hands. Anything beyond that was too much, she knew that - even though she also knew that keeping the truth of what she was hidden away could only serve to cause trouble. She chose not to focus on that right now, and instead focused onto the woman across from her. She found that Nicole was someone incredibly grounding to be around, and she didn’t know why. Instead of getting all done up about it, she’d decided to ignore that and focus on how pleasant it felt. Even though the idea of having friends was still a relatively foreign and odd concept to Evelyn, she didn’t think to question it with a select few people - not Nicole, and certainly not Miriam - to a degree. Others too - Deirdre for one, even Lydia, before everything (and she chose to not think about all the what ifs) - things she never would have expected years ago when she’d been shut into her home, accompanied only by her nannies, tutors, and housekeepers. “You are permitted to be sensitive to noises - not that, well, obviously I am unable to control that - not that I would, if I could, I think people controlling whatever it is someone is dealing with is unjust, but I am sorry that you have that. It is no bad thing, we are all different.” Her gaze softened again. “Bad things? You do not have to expand, but should you wish to, I am able to listen. I am even quite alright at it, most times.” She sucked on her lip for a moment. “I think they used that in lieu of any number of other words they might have preferred to use were my father not their main source of income.” She scrunched up her face. She watched Nicole play with - rearrange - the salt and felt her shoulders tense up just slightly as she pushed it over towards her. Evelyn took it, careful not to touch any of it too much, and pushed it with the tip of one nail away from them, back to where the waiter had first placed it down. “Yes, that.” She nodded. “Though it may not be the quality that you could have if you came to my bar, I hope it suffices.”

Nicole’s eyebrows rose again, surprised to see the woman string a sentence with less eloquence than usual. Rambling didn’t seem to be her thing, but she had definitely over explained something that seemed obvious. Her eyes narrowed, finally looking at her face. “I know,” she said simply with a subtle smile, her voice small but calm. Had she been braver, she would’ve asked if she had issues with control. But she didn’t want to risk upsetting her if that was the case. Her eyes darted outside, a break she needed from the current conversation. When Evelyn offered an ear, she almost smiled. Her kindness wasn’t surprising. Or the way Nicole’s eyes began to tear up. She got rid of them, blinking quickly. God that was embarrassing. For once, the idea of sharing part of her story wasn’t terrifying. Time. It was the one thing she needed. The one thing stopping her from speaking to her. It seemed unquestionable that with time, Evelyn would be able to coax the truth out of her.

“I know” even smaller the second time. Nicole shook her head. “We all got baggage, no?” she said instead. She doubted anyone living in a town like White Crest was completely normal. The way she spoke about her tutoring sounded a lot less amusing than what she had pictured first. She frowned. “Was that… did you rebel against them? Or just— you being a kid”. With an apprehensive look, she noticed the way Evelyn moved the salt again. Maybe she was very particular about condiment placement? It was a little too close to the edge for her liking, though. If anyone were to run and— No. She was too paranoid, what were the chances of that even happening? She let the saltshaker where it was. They would be fine. Moving it again would look odd. “I’ve had a lot worse, trust me” the taste had never mattered much to her. Not when it used to be about getting drunk above everything. Tilting the bottle, she took a gulp. Yes, not great, she confirmed with a grimace. “I think I’d like some of that quality alcohol, though” She’d have to save for that. “How’s your...water? Sure it’s fancier at your place too”.

Nicole’s response remained simple - which was to be expected, it was how she was, Evelyn had learned. Though not for any sort of negative reason, nor any lessening respect. She did respect and care for Nicole a great deal, regardless of whether or not that was something typical of her. “I know - and yes, I suppose that we do. Though it is all different, and I sometimes do not see any point in focusing on such things.” She figured that she could leave things be for now, but if they talked again, she might poke a bit more - as she was rather curious but she knew that Nicole was someone who seemed to be a bit shy, at least when compared to Evelyn. She liked her too, and so she didn’t want to stress her out, at least not more than she already did. It was one thing to persuade Nicole to permit her to purchase a guitar, but this was something else entirely. “No, not especially, I simply did my own thing sometimes and so I think mostly being a child, but I also do not know quite what is typical for children, given that I grew up mostly on my own.” She took another sip of her water. She watched Nicole eye the salt and for a moment she wanted to ask her if she, too, was a mara. She didn’t, because maybe she wasn’t and was just curious about Evelyn’s constant movements. “Well that is good. You should come by sometime, and perhaps I will find nice beer and we can enjoy that.” She grinned. “I can make exceptions for those whose company I enjoy. Especially if it is at my place and not my bar, though I do not feel bad about giving you a more reasonable price than I do for most of my clients.” She grinned. “It is fancier, but I have always loved the fancier things in life.”

A half grin reached Nicole’s lips. She had to admire Evelyn’s uncomplicated mindset. She would’ve achieved a lot more had she moved on from all her traumas, she mused. “Not much of a dweller?” She wanted to make sure she was understanding her words right. She took another swig of her beer. “What’s your secret? Cause I’ve...I’ve tried telling myself— shit’s in the past and all that...” she frowned, unsure whether she wanted to go down that road or not. “Can’t get it through my skull, though” she shook her head, her fingers tracing the bottle before drinking again. She probably should’ve waited until the food had arrived, but the anxiety wanted her to keep her hands busy. Her expression turned serious as Evelyn expanded more on her childhood. “Typical children stuff, like...just— not behaving the way adults want cause...cause— they’re not wired that way yet. That’s pretty typical, I think” there was a lot of wrong in the way kids were treated, but she wasn’t sure how to put her thought into words. “As an older sister— I’m allowed to say, kids are really annoying, though” she quipped to lighten the mood, but didn’t feel right. Joking rarely did. “Don’t think there was anything wrong with you, trust me” she added calmly, offering a sympathetic smile. She entertained herself holding the beer by its neck and swinging it idly, an inch over the table. “Now that I’m...officially invited, yes. Booze is one way to lure me in” tasting actual decent alcohol did sound like something she’d enjoy. “Uh, isn’t— the bar your place?” She let out a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, all water’s the same!” she knew it wasn’t true, but she was curious about what counted as fancy water. Looking past Evelyn’s shoulder, the waiter came into view. She wondered if the plates he was carrying belonged to them.  

“Not if it is something I wish to not dwell upon, yes.” Evelyn paused for a moment. “I mean - yes, you are correct. If something is unsavory, I do not wish to put my focus into it. I see little reason to.” Which she knew made her seem overly detached sometimes, but that was better than letting emotions overwhelm her completely. “Years of practice?” She shrugged. “I do not know, I think being alone much of my childhood allowed me to be alone with my thoughts, and I have never thought that getting too done up does anyone any good.” She took another sip of her water - she didn’t know why she kept telling Nicole so many things, but she also found that she didn’t always mind. “I guess so. It may be typical, but I have no proper experience with children outside of reading about them - I can imagine you might find them annoying.” She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I do trust you, though I do not know. That remains to be seen, for some.” She gave an off-handed shrug. “Yes, please come, and I have found that alcohol is the way to get many people interested. I can promise my selection is some of the best you’ll find here.” She giggled, the sound causing her to blink a few times extra. Perhaps there was something particularly special about Nicole. “You may say that, but there is a difference, sometimes.” She turned to see what Nicole was looking at, the waiter making their way over with the plates of food, and Evelyn watched as they placed them on the table, though as they turned to go, their elbow knocked against the salt, causing it to fall onto the ground and break, salt spreading out in front of their booth. Shoot. The waiter hadn’t noticed and before Evelyn could call out they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Evelyn eyed the salt warily, scooting further away from it. “What a mess, right?” She bit her lip. “I - I have - I am unsure if I am able to clean this up.”

Nicole managed to conceal her disappointment when Evelyn mentioned the years of practice. If it were up to her, she’d want to be done dwelling right in that moment. It was up to her, she reminded herself. Getting out of her head seemed to be a theme in her life lately. Like Evelyn, she had been alone with her own thoughts for too long, but it had the opposite effect. She let out a tired sigh at that, but didn’t say anything. From the first time they had met, it was obvious there was more to Evelyn than what she presented. The things she said always left her more curious. Confused too. She was about to ask what remained to be seen according to her, but it was all interrupted by the waiter bringing their plates. She was surprised at how quick the food had come. The conversation hadn’t been torture at all. At her alcohol comment, she raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m sure that’s not biased at all”. She smiled, eyeing her salad with amusement.Before she could say a word, things went awry.

She tried to reach for the saltshaker, fingertips barely missing the container. Despite her quick reflexes, it slipped from her fingers all the same, shattering on the floor. Nicole winced at the sound, her heart rate jumping immediately. She could sense the heads turning in their direction. “Fu—Shit!” shit, shit, shit. That’s why she had moved it in the first place. Shifting slightly, she checked under the table if the salt had extended to their shoes. Despite the initial scare, there was a minor relief when she saw her boots were clean. Had it fallen differently, she would’ve had to give Evelyn an extremely awkward explanation as to why she couldn’t move or get up. If only her chest could get the message that there was no imminent danger, though. “It’s— it’s fine. I’m...I’m sure we can get the—” she trailed off, eyes fixed on the salt. She tried to think for a moment, but everything around her was distracting her. Was it her own scared heart racing in her ears, or— she glanced at Evelyn then, noticing her shying away. She frowned. Was she worried about the mess? It was bad sure, but they’d get someone to clean, no? Her own worries slipped to the back of her mind, concerned eyes focusing on the woman. Maybe, like her, noises freaked Evelyn out too. “What’s… are you— did the sound freak you out?” It’s okay, it’s just—” she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It wasn’t just salt. Not to her, at least. But why would Evelyn share the same worries? “You’re unsure if...what?”

Evelyn couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Nicole’s comment, finding herself glad that Nicole was smiling - whether or not it was entirely due to her remark or something else she wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that she liked when Nicole was happy - which was odd, given that they hardly knew one another but it was also an unavoidable fact. Before they could say anything more, the salt had broken and she looked curiously at Nicole, regarding her reaction with a certain level of confusion. Maybe she was just very into things being clean and orderly, which this was distinctly… not. Nicole was panicking though - although Evelyn couldn’t directly sense it, she knew enough about how people behaved when they panicked that she could understand what was going on. “A bit?” Evelyn pursed her lips. “I mean, I like music for ballet to be loud sometimes, but suddenly…” her voice trailed off. “A bit startling. I suppose.” Nicole was still asking her things and she knew that she needed to come up with a further explanation, and soon. “If I can clean this up.” She repeated. “I mean, I am plenty able to clean just … not this. I have sensitive skin and it sometimes acts up.” Even she knew that that sounded ridiculous. “Could you walk over and get the waiter, maybe?”

Nicole was hardly an expert on human emotions, but for a second their eyes met she believed her own fear was mirrored in Evelyn’s eyes. It made everything much more confusing. What were the odds of— no, she put that thought to rest when the woman confirmed she had been scared by the sound, that made sense. Glass breaking was never nice to hear. “It’s fine...it’s okay” she repeated, shaking her head. Evelyn didn’t look like something who did extreme emotions. Even startled, she seemed to try and keep it together. On the edge of the table, her hand opened and closed a few times while she hesitated over reaching out to comfort her or not. “Yeah, yes— it was kinda loud but…” her fingers dug into her palm as her hand clenched into a fist. The moment had passed. Her eyes landed on the food they had both clearly forgotten about. Didn’t matter, she wasn’t hungry anymore. “What, you’re allergic to... salt?” eyes narrowed, tilting her head. Her chest stirred again. There was a sensation inside her, heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. And when her eyes met Evelyn's again, something in her told her she couldn’t trust her. She leaned back, attempting to put some distance between them. She clenched her jaw. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t belong to her. She liked Evelyn, she was nice. She had to forget about that cold distrust building within her because she heard a question. “Can I— ” she licked her lips nervously, eyes back on the salt. She could, technically. But Evelyn would find it incredibly odd if she circled around the pile instead of just skipping through it like any normal person unaffected by salt would. “But you— you’re closer to the… you’re closer to the kitchen” she reasoned.

She’d never run into this sort of problem in public before. Of course, there had been the time - when she was little - when one of her cooks (sillyannoyingridiculousawful she remembered thinking, after the fact) had spilled some while making some sort of dish for a party. Evelyn had been sat up on a stool, eyes wide, hair spilling over her shoulders when it had happened and she’d hopped off, eager to find a way to help the cook clean up, finding herself unable to move. She hadn’t truly understood what was going on, except that she’d started screaming at such a high pitch that one of her nannies had come running - and her father too, eventually. He’d brushed away the salt and all of a sudden she’d been able to move again. She’d grown up a great deal since then, a great deal that meant she didn’t react in such an extreme way any more but it didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel her body tense up, at least slightly - at least as much as she’d found herself able to. “I - yes.” She blinked rapidly -- too much for what was normal, but all of this was a reminder of how very much not normal she was and she took in a breath, because Nicole was good and there was no way she was a hunter (though she’d been so very wrong about that before, hadn’t she?). She looked over to Nicole for a moment, watching the other woman push herself away. She didn’t know what she was planning and she could feel her own throat growing dry. “I - no. I cannot. It - you spend time outdoors,” she began, knowing that that excuse was certainly unimpressive. “I -” she began again, pulling her lower lip in. “I cannot go past it.” She finally settled on, not daring to look at Nicole. “I will not be able to move.” If she was out to hurt her, then she would already have figured it out. “It - I have been this way for as long as I can remember.” If Nicole was completely normal, then she might think Evelyn was losing her mind, but some small part of her hoped that Nicole would just understand it all without any undesirable consequences. If not - well, the small amount of time that they had known one another had been lovely.

“What?” Nicole had to laugh at the excuse Evelyn gave. It was nervous and out of place, but in any other moment she would’ve found the humor in it. Her laugh died in her throat only a moment later. The woman’s next words didn’t sound real. Her expression morphed from nervous to puzzled in a beat, before registering the meaning. She had never been too bright, but there was no other way to interpret what Evelyn was saying, right? Ghost, spirits, they couldn’t move through salt, she recalled an exorcist’s words a few months back. But Evelyn didn’t look like a ghost. Her heart was drumming so loudly in her ears it was hard to form coherent thoughts. There was so much she didn’t know. There was another explanation, right? Something she was missing. Instead, she was jumping to conclusions. Because— It couldn’t be. Was that the reason they had connected so quickly? Her chest heaved, eyebrows furrowed so tightly, she believed the lines would stay there forever. Just briefly, she allowed herself to consider— After years by herself, had she finally found someone like her? No. She was grasping at straws. There was nothing else to draw that conclusion from, except for the salt. That could mean anything. It seemed a waiter had walked past the table and spotted the mess, muttering something about cleaning it in a second, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the woman. The salt was forgotten. She didn’t care about it anymore. It was nothing. Just a catalyst for something much bigger. She leaned forward, eyes studying her intensely. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, a clue, a tell, anything from the woman to would give away that they were more alike than she had initially thought.

“Evelyn,” Nicole called gently, despite how uncomfortable she felt using people’s names. Too personal. There was so much she wanted to ask, so many thoughts jumbled together. She was on the brink of possibly finding someone like her. The first one since— really? Was she gonna cry already? She let out a shaky breath. “I’m— what do you mean you can’t cross salt. Look— look at me,” she kept her voice as even as possible, but the words rushed out of her mouth, pushing and demanding. She didn’t want to sound angry — far from it, she only needed confirmation— but she doubted she had the nuance in her tone to not startle Evelyn. “You’re not...are you— are... are you—” she clenched her fist, frustrated. And when she thought she wouldn’t let it out, it came a whisper. Hopeful, curious, charged. “Are you not... human?”

Nicole was laughing and it didn’t seem to be right at Evelyn, at least not as far as she could tell. Except she wasn’t reacting to what Evelyn had said - at least not entirely, and she took a sip of water -- too much, filling up her mouth so much so that she could just focus on that and not whatever was going on with Nicole. Don’tbeahunterdon’tbea - she forced those thoughts out of her mind, because if she were one, Evelyn would have to find a way to deal with that but she didn’t believe that Nicole was. Her disposition was far too gentle, too nervous, too kind to be one. “What?” Evelyn’s eyes grew wide, jolted entirely out of her thoughts, though she found that she didn’t mind Nicole actually using her name - was this was it was like to have would-be friends? - she shook her head. “I - I -” Look at me. She did. Looked over to Nicole, avoiding direct eye contact but taking in her kind eyes, the way that her hair flowed over her shoulders. “I - no. Not human.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to process everything. Her tone had changed and Evelyn could feel her own expression shift to one that was far more calm than it had been just moments ago -- the waiter not returning the furthest thing from her mind right now. “Are - are you not, either?” Was she a mara? That could have explained while Evelyn found herself drawn to her - she knew that Nicole wasn’t a ghost - Evelyn knew that she couldn't see ghosts, no matter how much she might have wished to (but then again, with what Nadia and Deirdre had told her she wasn’t quite as sold on those any longer). That didn’t mean there wasn’t another species out there that had some of the same difficulties as Evelyn did. “I - can - I  - I am a mara.” She bit her lip, sighed gently. “I hope that is okay.” Her voice got quieter then, nails tapping on the side of her water glass.

Silence hung over them as Nicole took everything in. For once, she couldn’t tell whether it was uncomfortable or not. It was just silence, she had too much to process to care about social cues. She had rehearsed for the evening dozens of times in her mind. Prepared as much as one could. Went over every scenario she could create, from decent, to bad, to terrible to disaster. Evelyn revealing she was not human due to a broken salt shaker hadn’t been in the cards. It was a struggle to figure out how to take the revelation. They should’ve learned about one another with time, when they had trusted each other enough to say the words without fear. Not in a loud dinner because of a preventable accident. She wasn’t human, Evelyn’s words confirmed. Her heart skipped a beat. Excitement? Was she like her, then? She didn't get the chance to ask. “I— am I? Uh...I—” she held her breath at the question. That was new, had she been too obvious? It had always been easy to conceal her otherness from the world, pass for human, stifle the animal so it was nothing but a dull ache in her chest. She had never told anyone before. Then again, no one had asked so plainly either. She didn’t fancy her chances lying, not when she never had a good poker face. It all showed in her eyes, she had been told. And Evelyn didn't deserve lies anyway, not after her unprompted honesty. Maybe she’d read her mind, somehow. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it.

The woman continued talking, and the pressure in Nicole’s chest was too heavy to ignore. Was it disappointment? A Mara. She didn’t know that word. They weren't the same, then. She was something else entirely. A different creature? She had new questions. “I don’t—I’m not sure what...what’s that”. Evelyn’s last words made her throat tighten. She swallowed hard against the knot, blinking away the tears she knew had to be gathering in her eyes already. Was it okay? How many times had the woman asked that and gotten a negative response? How many times would Nicole have to do that if she ever felt brave enough to be honest? Unsure on what to say, she settled for what she would’ve liked to hear instead. “That’s— that’s okay. Of course, why wouldn’t—” she mumbled, lingering on the hand tapping against the glass before her eyes flicked back up, bright and understanding. She wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, but her limbs didn’t receive the message. “You’re good, please don’t think— I’m not scared, or anything”.

She let the moment hang between them, quiet and though Evelyn liked to consider herself someone who knew how to use her words well, she felt at a loss for them - for just now, she hoped, though she was not entirely sure. She certainly knew that she hadn’t gone into this evening expecting for her friend - for whatever Nicole was - to find out that she wasn’t human. This was supposed to have just been a nice outing. Something normal for Nicole, something that made her feel comfortable. She couldn’t help but feel her mind flash back to the night with Alain, when something else entirely normal and supposedly benign had outed her as not-human. Thankfully, Nicole hadn’t left her yet and Evelyn breathed a small sigh of relief.

She was stammering though and Evelyn pressed her hands against her thighs for a moment, willing any calm energy to concentrate then and now - to focus and not freak out about whatever Nicole’s eventual response would be once she was able form complete sentences. She’d give her time though - that much she more than deserved, having something like this just suddenly dropped on her.  “I - it is okay. I do not expect you to know.” She pressed her thighs against one another, taking in another deep breath. “I - I feed on fear.” Her voice was so quiet now, she wondered if Nicole could hear. “I - I promise I do not feed on fr - those I - people I like. Trust. You. I have not and shall not ever do that. I am a living nightmare, I suppose. That is likely the best manner of phrasing.” She shook her head. “You do not have to be scared of me. I - I am not bad.” She didn’t know why she felt such a desperate need to insist upon this, rather than to just leave things as they were - to state it more assuredly. “Thank you. Not everyone responds well, is all.”

If Nicole thought further explanation would clear things out, she was wrong. Evelyn’s words didn't make sense. “What is—” What exactly did she mean by feeding? How could anyone feed on fear? Impossible. She eyed the untouched salad then, swallowing all the questions she wanted to ask. “What...” referring to herself as a living nightmare didn’t help either. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to understand, she focused instead on how the woman acted. Someone who was trying her best to stay calm, whose words weren’t exactly the most coherent. Too familiar. Despite learning she was a creature who fed on fear —whatever that meant—, Evelyn had never looked more human to her. Her breath grew shallow as her throat tightened. How could she judge her for something she didn’t ask for? It wasn’t right. They lived in a cruel world, scared, persecuted, ashamed —in her case— of what they were. None of it was right. It hurt to hear Evelyn defend her nature to her. She looked down to hide her face, tears were threatening to spill. Great, had she upgraded to crying for others too? Worst of all, she didn’t know the right thing to say. Evelyn was baring secrets and she didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with it. There were more barriers between them than just the table.

“I’m not scared of you” Nicole repeated, voice low but firm. “I don’t understand…I don’t get anything of what you’re saying, but listen—” she licked her lips as her mind went blank. Where was she going with that? She was about to find out. “You’re—” she looked at Evelyn again, heat rising to her cheeks as it often did when she was ashamed of being honest. “For some reason, the first person I thought of when I needed to talk... was you,” the reason they were at the diner, the catalyst for all the events that led Evelyn to reveal she wasn't human. New information could change opinions, sure, but she was talking to the woman who bought a guitar for her the first hour they met. There was hardly anything that could change her mind about the kind of person she was. “And you came. You said yes! To meet a— You don’t think I already know you’re not bad?”. She swallowed, getting her thoughts together. She had a lot of questions. Some that could wait until Evelyn felt safe enough with her, but there was one she couldn’t keep inside. “What did you mean by...how can anyone feed on fear? that’s not—it’s...it’s not— you can’t eat that”.

Nicole was doing a number of false starts and reformulations and Evelyn wished, if for only just a moment, to take back everything that she’d said. It was too much, maybe. Even if Nicole wasn’t getting up and leaving it could just as easily be all too much to expect her to understand. As much as it frustrated Evelyn when people didn’t seem to understand, she also couldn’t expect them to - though she figured that was more her father’s words getting to her - they often stayed away but seemed to have a tendency to reappear in moments of doubt - they had, shortly after she’d broken up with Alain and she found that they were reappearing now, much to what would have been her dismay if she’d let it.

Instead, she refocused on Nicole, who seemed to have found her own voice again and Evelyn let out her breath. “Good.” She replied. “You needn’t be scared.” Since when am I supposed to sound like my tutors from when I was a child? She mused for a moment. Nicole’s next words made her bite her lip softly, gaze growing soft, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the stirring of emotions that ran through her body, then. She imagined for a moment that this must have been what it would have been like to have had a friend (that word was alright to use, she figured, because that was the only way she could describe Nicole) as a child, having someone who wanted to come and talk to her and not because of her money. At least, she figured as much, given how much Nicole seemed to actively push away her offers of aid for any number of things. “I know, but I just - some see those who are not human - and they push away, they think that this changes things, even though it was not. I know of plenty of proper humans who have done more harm than anyone who is not human has ever done.” Her hands found her glass of water again and she took in another sip, Nicole’s next question not a surprise. “It - well, it is the way my body processes things. Truly, there are times when I do not understand it myself, but I just know that I - well, I can touch someone and create nightmares and that provides sustenance. Perhaps it is like how plants can take in sunlight and change it to nutrients?” She shrugged. “I am able to eat normal food too, I just need to feed on nightmares in order to survive.” Another sip of water - “I can explain further, best as I can, if you would like.”

Nicole considered the woman’s words for a second. She didn’t agree with it, but it made sense. She understood Evelyn because she wasn’t human either. She could relate. But had she been human, with no knowledge of the strange creatures that walked among them, she would have reacted differently to the revelation. She would’ve thought the woman was crazy. “That’s pretty dumb of them” to push away someone because they were different. Though, if she was being understanding with Evelyn, who could be dangerous to others, why couldn’t ignorant humans receive the same treatment? Maybe with more knowledge, their minds could be changed. The moral dilemma gave her a headache. “But I guess— guess we can’t be too hard on—on...people ” she shot a quick glance at the woman, catching herself before she could say humans.

Nicole’s eyes narrowed at the way Evelyn explained feeding, the plant analogy helping to better visualize it. It sounded terrifying and fascinating at the same time. To have the ability to unleash that sort of terror at her fingertips. It brought on more questions, but it was hard to articulate any. More than anything, it helped her understand why Evelyn had tried to reassure her she wasn’t bad. How scary were those nightmares? Could people die because of the distress? After what felt like eternity for Nicole, the waiter rushed to their side, endless apologies spilling out of his mouth. She didn’t care, she understood. The diner was full and busy, the staff not big enough to cover it. She eyed him briefly as he swept the remains of glass and salt. Only then, the pressure in her chest eased, her heart slowing down. It had to be a relief for Evelyn as well. “Yes, please—” a shy smile pulled at the side of her face. She glanced down to Evelyn’s hands, following every unintentional move. “So just… you touch someone and— does it depend on…” she paused, grabbing her beer again. She toyed with it instead of drinking.“The worse the nightmare is, the— your meal is it….meatier? or—” she cringed at her wording. She had to sound stupid.  

“It may be dumb, but it also cannot be helped, sometimes.” She knew that was why, despite everything, she still felt some level of sympathy toward her father. He should have acted better with everything, but in the end he was just scared. Evelyn knew his position and title meant nearly everything to him. So much so that he stayed married to her mother even when he knew what she was. So much so that he kept aspects of his life - so many aspects - secret. Made Evelyn play human - because being anything other than perfectly normal was frowned upon. Nicole’s words were a breath of fresh air and it made things feel at least a little bit okay. She shrugged. “I guess not.” Try living with this for years, try finding out what you are and having answers and being shut down. Try being so alone in the middle of a party thrown just for you. Though she knew that there was no way that Nicole meant any of what she’d say in any sort of negative way, Evelyn couldn’t help the desperate and uncomfortable feelings that rolled throughout her whole body.

The waiter arrived finally and had Evelyn been younger, more prone to her snobbery (though she knew that she certainly held a good bit of that now, still), she would have scoffed, asked why they had taken so long. She didn’t, now. She offered them a small smile, as if to say It does not matter. As if to entirely avoid that something so simple could so easily render her helpless. Turn her into a child again, too-long hair and bright eyes, melting down in the house’s kitchen. At least this hadn’t turned into that. At least she was safe. “I have to concentrate.” She murmured, fingers brushing along the tabletop. “I - well, they are fulfilling on different levels. I am unsure entirely, but I do find a certain satisfaction in ones that are worse, I suppose. It creates more fear which is - well, that is the essence of what I need.” Thankfully nobody else was paying them any attention. “How about we get out of here? My bar is open whenever I please, and I can tell you more there.”

“That is…” Nicole should’ve been scared, right? A person was telling her she was capable of causing people nightmares at will in order to survive. That was unlike anything she had seen in town. She should’ve been scared, because she generally had common sense. But each new bit of information she learned, only made her more curious. Only made her wonder what else was out there, hiding in plain sight. “That’s kinda cool. Shit— I mean I wouldn’t like to be the...but—” she had believed Evelyn when she said she wasn’t bad, but that sort of power in different hands—it had to be dangerous. “Oh” she was surprised by Evelyn’s suggestion to leave. Neither of them had even touched the food yet, but she couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to get as far away as possible from the diner. She looked down at her plate as she pondered. They weren’t exactly in the right place to have that sort of personal conversation, she figured. As loud as the diner was, she had to assume there were others like her among them, with keen ears. Who might not take Evelyn’s revelation as well as she had. For their safety, it was probably the best idea to follow the woman’s suggestion.

Nicole found that she didn’t mind going either.  She was drained already from being surrounded by so many people. Trying to tune out noises and smells was a struggle. She still couldn’t figure out why she had chosen Al’s to meet in the first place. Bad idea from beginning to end. She glanced at the now clean floor. They were allowed to leave now, so why not? She tried to push down the guilt over the disastrous evening. She couldn’t have known. It wasn’t her fault. “Uh— sure. Yeah, that sounds— why not?” it took everything in her to fight the urge to call it a day, and just go home, avoiding more social interaction. Deep down is what she wanted, but what she wanted wasn’t always what she needed. “Let me just...” she bit the inside of her cheek, awkwardly waiting to be noticed by the waiter to ask for the check. “I could really use a drink— a real one, after all...this. So, let’s— let’s  go”.

[itsjunobxtch]

Why Hanamaki Loves Profiteroles. (Matsuhana story)

Matsukawa. He's everything I'm not. He's tall, dark and handsome. I know that's ridiculously stereotypical but it's true. His hair is dark and he has these thick eyebrows which drop down cutely when he's confused and go up lazily when he's bored. He's built and effortlessly cool. He's doesn't care what people think of him but they always like him anyway. He's basically perfect. Ugh.

-

"Makki, are you coming?", Oikawa waves his hand in front of my face snapping me out of my trance.

"Yeah, where are the others?".

"Iwa-chan's sick so I'm gonna stop by his. Mattsun said he has something to do and he'll catch us up."

"I'll come with you to Hajime-kun's house." I reply, as we exit the school gates to walk home.

Oikawa stops and turns to me staring deep into my eyes. It's weird.

"what is it Tooru?" I ask, confused.

"Don't come."

"What, why?"

He grabs the sleeve of my coat and repeats, "don't come."

I glance between his eyes and he's staring at me so intensely that it's actually scary. He's twinkling mischievously, and I can just tell that he knows something I don't. Knowing Oikawa, I probably don't want to know.

"Whatever", I sigh, stepping back and continuing on my way home.

We chat about random things during the 20 minute walk to the intersection where we part. He steers the conversation towards Hajime-kun while I attempt to steer it literally anywhere else. I love Oikawa like a brother, but if I have to hear about his boyfriend's thighs, biceps, hair, abs, or any other body part I don't want to think about, I will throw something at him.

We finally get to our splitting point, and I look around confused.

"I thought you said Mattsun would catch up? He's had ages to meet us". Oikawa's eyes glint and he bites back a smile.

"Did I say catch up with us? What I meant was we were all going to meet at the new dessert place."

"But I thought Iwaizumi was ill?"

Oikawa's eyes widen in fake shock and he slaps his hand over his mouth.

"Oh dear! I guess you'll have to meet him at the desert place by yourself."

My eyes narrow.

"Did you just say oh de-"

"It can't be helped" he interrupts, already jogging in the direction of his and Iwaizumi's houses.

"Fucking Tooru" I mutter as I turn and walk towards the desert parlour.

-

10 minutes later I'm walking into the new hang out spot we've all been talking about recently. Even though it's packed I immediately spot Issei's black curls in the corner booth. Figures.

I stride over and bonk him on the head before sliding in across from him. He's expressionless face breaks out into a smile as we bump the sides of our fists.

"Hey", I breathe.

"Hi", he replies.

He looks behind me confused. "Where's Oikawa? And Iwaizumi?"

"Hajime-kun is sick, and Tooru went to dote on him".

Mattsun laughs which makes my stomach flip. Fucking Tooru, why would he do this to me?

"Their relationship is so love filled it's gross", he says making my heart drop.

"Yeah", he replies looking down.

"I already ordered for the 4 of us, so we can either eat their shares or get them packed up and take them over to Iwaizumi's"

"Cool."

"How was you're day?" He asked, breaking the second of silence, and causing me to bounce back to my usual talkative self.

-

15 minutes later we're drinking our smoothies and eating desserts.

Mattsun ordered me banana split pancakes, which are perfect, while he's basically inhaling these things called profiteroles. They look pretty good. He sees me staring and stops.

"Want a bite?"

"What, oh, no it's-"

He waves me off, skewers one and holds it up for me to eat from his fork. Is he trying to make my head explode?

I eat it. It's fucking delicious. I close my eyes to savour it, and when I open them he's staring at me with an expression I can't quite read.

I can't do this anymore. I can't sit around and watch my best friend look at me like that, without knowing that I'm hopelessly in love with him. I'm gonna tell him.

I grab my smoothie to clear my throat but he starts talking before I can confess.

"Hana..."

"Everyone calls me Makki bro, why do you always call me Hana?"

"Because you're pretty and Hana is a pretty name," I can feel my neck heating up, "plus, I don't see you the same as everyone else does, so I don't want to call you the same things they do."

I try to calm my heart as it explodes in my chest.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, drinking my smoothie to distract myself.

"Do you wanna be my boyfriend?"

In pure shock, I spit my milkshake in Mattsun's face. He laughs raucously.

"Hana, grosssss" he chuckles as my cheeks begin to flush.

I lean over the table with my napkin and wipe his face. When I finish I realise he's staring at me. I slowly lift my gaze to catch his eyes. They're beautiful. He's beautiful.

"Is this a prank?" I manage to get out, leaning back into my seat.

"No. I like you and I want to be your boyfriend." He looks at the table. We've finished eating so he grabs the rubbish to put in the bin. I go up to pay, but he catches up with me.

"My treat, Hana."

"But I-"

"Hana..."

I sigh and go sit outside with the packed up food to wait for him.

He leaves the restaurant a few minutes later and we begin to walk to Iwaizumi's in silence.

-

5 minutes into the walk I grab his arm and turn him to face me.

"Why would you wanna be my boyfriend?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mattsun, you look like a model, you're funny and silly and caring and beautiful. I'm just Hanamaki."

He looks up at the sky for a moment, contemplating my words before looking back at me and taking my hand in his, making me giddy.

"Yeah you're just Hanamaki. The guy who tutors anyone who asks, because he thinks people shouldn't pay for the grades they want. The guy who brings 3 coffees to school for his friends every morning even though he can hardly carry one cup. The guy who puts stars and hearts over the i in his name because he thinks its cute. It is. The guy who is fucking drop dead gorgeous, and who I wanna marry one day because when he smiles it makes everything in my life just a little bit better. The guy who thinks he isn't enough but is way better than anyone else I know. You, Hana. That's why I want to date you."

-

I stare at my crush, insulted by the fact that Mattsun can say that completely nonchalantly whilst hearing it apparently turns me into a flustered mess.

"So? Will you be my boyfriend?"

"You literally just said how gross Hajime and Tooru are together."

"Then let's beat them and be even grosser together."

A thought dawns on me.

"Fucking Tooru set this up! He did this on purpose!"

Mattsun looks down sheepishly. I kind of asked him too..."

I hit him softly, holding in a smile. He planned to ask me out. He really does like me.

"So? Will you be my boyfriend?" Mattsun asks again, clearly nervous now. I smile.

"Mattsun I've liked you since we were 11, just kiss me already."

Mattsun grins and pulls me into his arms, smiling as our lips meet.

My head is spinning but in the best possible way. I don't want this feeling to ever go away. I don't want him to ever go away. He said he wants to marry me!

I pull back, smiling to myself in a daze. Mattsun stopped kissing me but still is still holding me by my waist.

I catch my breath and whisper in his ear, "In case you couldn't tell, that was a yes."

We beam at each other, not wanting to leave this moment, but knowing great things await us moving forwards.

the end.

[snowbellewells]

A Birthday Gift for @itsfabianadocarmo

So I have been LOVING @itsfabianadocarmo​‘s CSR Aesthetic Picsets, and especially the ones telling the story of an alternate S7 in Hyperion Heights, but where Emma was also present as a waitress named Eva Cygnet.  Then, as @itsfabianadocarmo​ and I began to chat on here more, I learned we share the exact same date of birth! (What are the odds?!?) So, my birthday twin, I began plotting a little surprise for you. I hope you’ll like it. It’s just a little one shot to go along with your first picset in that series (which I have hopefully attached so those who haven’t seen it can do so HERE).  I hope you’ll enjoy this - and maybe, if I get a few more WIPs finished, more will accompany this one!

Anyway, I hope you have the very best birthday!! I’ve so enjoyed getting to know you!! :)

“Marmalade and Tea”

by: @snowbellewells​

“What about this place, Tilly?” Rogers questioned his jittery passenger with a sidelong glance as he eased his classic Chevelle into a parking space along the sidewalk. “Looks cozy, hmm?”

Though making a valiant effort to remain patient and upbeat, the vagabond sprite he’d taken into his home and his affections had already shot down every dining establishment in a two block radius and he had begun to fear none would suffice and they’d run out of options. Not for the first time, the worry struck him that he was ill-equipped for the needs and wishes of a young lass such as Tilly. But she was so lost, so vulnerable - scrappy and resourceful as she might first appear - that he hadn’t been able to leave her fending for herself. She tugged at his emotions more than he could understand. All he knew in that moment was that he was far too hungry to get by on the toast and marmalade Tilly usually wanted for supper.

His young companion cocked her head to the side, staring out the passenger window to study the kitschy little diner her detective had indicated. She bit her lip in concentration, and Rogers held his breath, hoping this one might be a winner, until finally she bobbed her tawny head, light-brown waves of her hair rustling as she did so. “Yep! Let’s check it out!”

Without further hesitation or doubt, Tilly flung her door open and hopped out onto the sidewalk excitedly. Shaking his head at the quick change in disposition, Rogers found himself hurrying after her as she practically skipped up the walk toward the diner’s entrance, humming cheerily to herself. For all her deliberation of moments ago, once Tilly made up her mind, he had to admit she threw herself into any given course of action with gusto and commitment.

Catching up to Tilly at the door, Rogers playfully bowed to her with a crooked grin and raised eyebrow, “After you, milady,” he teased in his lilting voice, as he held the door open for her to pass.

To his delight, she giggled, just as he had hoped, her face lighting up with glee at the simple moment of playfulness. Lifting her chin regally, she preceded him into the diner with a haughty toss of her hair, “Why thank you, good sir,” she returned.

As she spoke, her shorter form brushed past him in the entry, and Rogers felt a current of recognition run through him - freezing him in place. It was as if he had spoken those very words, heard her exact response, lived the entire moment before. He blinked, trying to shake his head clear of such impossible nonsense. Not only had he only known Tilly for a few months, but before that he had been utterly alone, no one in his life to joke around with - or even to enjoy a pleasant lunch with as he and Tilly were doing now. He had to be mistaken, and yet…

He glanced to the young runaway, now living in his spare room and filling it to the brim with her colorful, splashy paintings and sketches as well as the trinkets and treasures she picked up on her daily rambles while he was at work. She too appeared startled, wide-eyed as though she were trying to process something which had flashed across her mind’s eye before vanishing again.

For a second, superimposed upon his vision of Tilly before him, he saw a younger version of her, dressed in a pretty dress and pinafore, a much younger iteration of her face gazing up at him in adoration. It was all he could do to hold onto his breath. What was happening to him?

Afraid to share what he had seen, knowing Tilly’s grip on reality could already sometimes be fragile, Rogers tried to push the strange near-reminiscence and the image aside, gesturing toward the counter in question to see if TIlly would prefer a seat there in the tall stools rather than a booth. She too seemed to shake a dazed expression from her face, and nodded, hopping onto the nearest seat quickly. He noticed her agitation though as she softly drummed her fingers on the countertop and swiveled in her seat. 

Rogers wondered briefly if he should ask her what was wrong or let her pretend. Should he find out if she had seen something odd as well, and if so, what? He hated to disturb the equilibrium she had recently found; dreaded upsetting her or encouraging flights from reality. So he bit his tongue with effort and held back his questions. Instead, he asked what she had been working on in her latest art piece, and Tilly launched into a detailed and enthusiastic description of the enchanted setting of some Wonderland in a book she’d read.

Just as he was drawing in a breath of relief and feeling normalcy return, their waitress arrived before them. “Hello, welcome to Ruby Red’s! What can I start you off with today?” The voice was welcoming and pleasant, but lower and less gratingly perky than often assaulted one’s ears in such small, cutesy restaurants. The detective had hardly even picked up his menu, much less perused his choices, and he flushed, embarrassed to the very roots of his dark hair, scruffy cheeks pinking and even the tips of his subtly pointed ears taking on the hue. Tilly noticed, and elbowed him with a snicker, causing Rogers to fumble with the laminated sheet of their offerings and bring up his stiff, gloved hand as well to keep from dropping the menu. He’d been too busy pondering over his strange reverie and observing his younger companion’s disquiet, but she seemed to have thrown that aside and resumed her jovial nature once more, so he attempted to do the same. 

“Ah, hello Lass,” he offered awkwardly, reaching up to scratch behind his ear uncertainly and wishing for at least the hundredth time that he were a bit more suave and self-assured. “Sorry about that, haven’t quite made up my mind yet.” Looking to offer her an apologetic smile, Rogers nearly swallowed his own tongue at the sight before him.

Their waitress was stunning. Surely the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. She was dressed simply in a sleeveless chambray button-down top and khaki skirt that came to mid-thigh toped with short red apron. Yet, even with her bright fall of blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and dark, plastic-framed glasses on her nose, she was dazzling to his senses.

“That’s quite alright,” she assured with an easy smile. “Maybe just your drink orders while you decide?”

“Right you are, Miss…” he paused, stumbling over his words and inherent politeness when he realized he didn’t know her last name. “Ah... Eva?” he finished sheepishly as his eyes found the small plastic nametag she wore.

Not seeming in the least put off by his nerves or fumbling manner - in fact, if Tilly, who was watching the exchange with a deviously pleased grin and avid interest, were any sort of judge, their pretty waitress seemed decidedly charmed. Nodding, the woman hurried to answer him. “Yep, Eva, that’s right. Eva Cygnet.” She reached out to shake his hand only to find that he hesitated to offer his, leading her eyes to fall on the prosthetic she had failed to notice. Rogers’ eyes fell to the countertop, lips pressed together in a firm line, but his head shot back up in surprise when she laid her hand atop his gloved replacement appendage, kindly adding, and holding his gaze until it was clear she meant her words and that the false hand didn’t bother her at all. “Glad you decided to visit us today, Mr. …?”

“Rogers,” the detective spoke up, confidence growing in his voice as he marveled at the woman’s simple kindness and understanding. “Joel Rogers, Hyperion Heights detective.” His cheeks flushed again, not sure why he’d added that part, but holding her gaze all the same.

Tilly, however, was now completely won over. Seeing the change that had come over her friend and benefactor in the short exchange with this Eva Cygnet, and just how amazed he seemed by her mere presence, Tilly was practically beaming. With a bounce of enthusiasm, she chirped, “Best on the force, that’s him!”

Ms. Cygnet chuckled easily, flattering laughlines crinkling the corners of eyes that might have seemed a bit tired when she first reached their seats, but now appeared friendly and amused. “Good to know,” she said seriously, turning her attention to Tilly then. “If we have any trouble here, I’ll know just who to call.”

Tilly nodded smartly, reaching out to shake Eva Cygnet’s hand readily and then adding, “And you don’t have to wait on my order, either. Could I just have toast with butter and orange marmalade and a glass of milk?”

Eva’s head tilted as if uncertain, and possibly even trying to decide if the younger woman was playing some sort of trick on her.  She scrunched her nose in a thoughtful way that made Rogers want to reach out and tap the tip of it with his finger, an urge he barely managed to wrestle down. Finally, the waitress seemed to make up her mind, and with a shrug, jotted Tilly’s order on her pad. “If you’re sure that’s all you want, you can certainly have it. Our bread is baked fresh right here in our kitchen every day - and Granny makes the preserves herself as well - best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Granny?” Tilly repeated curiously as she looked at their server.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Eva offered. “Mrs Lucas, the owner. Most of us have worked here forever, so it’s almost like family, and that’s what we all call her. She told me her name was Granny when she hired me.” Shaking her head, she leaned in closer to Tilly in a conspiratorial whisper. “We just finally got her to take a two week vacation for the first time in years. She went to Colorado to see her granddaughter and her husband and great-grandkids. He’s some sort of woodsman, forestry officer, something like that, and they live in a national park basically. Granny’s been thinking about it for ages, and Ruby - this place is named after her - keeps begging her to, saying she and Pete would love to have her stay with them. And so she finally did it!”

Tilly’s eyes were shining, looking as thrilled with the happy story as if she too knew the people Eva spoke of so fondly. “Wow,” she commented. “That sounds amazing.”

“Yup,” Eva confirmed, with a bob of her head, “but look at me gabbing on when you’d probably like your food sometime today!”

She turned to Joel then, a patient look on her face and pen poised to take down his order as well. He would never have assumed it had anything to do with him (it did) but she looked flushed and more than a bit apologetic, and he wanted to tell her that he would listen to her stories all day. She could read them the entire menu word-for-word, and he would welcome it if that was what it took to keep her near.

“What would you recommend?” he questioned instead, brow furrowing in consternation as he almost added “Love” at the end of his request.

Eva grinned, offering her pick without hesitation. “This may sound crazy. I’ve been told more than once I’ve got the palate of a 10-year-old, but I’d have the grilled cheese club. The bread’s all crisp and buttery and there’s this secret sauce and bacon in the cheese. It’s just melty, perfect goodness.”

Winking at her, badly, both eyes seeming to close as if unable to work independently, Rogers took her at her word. “Sold! That does sound delicious, maybe with a side of - “

“Onion rings?”

“Yes, exactly! Brilliant, Lass.”

“You have good taste,” Eva Cygnet offered sagely. “I’ll always pick onion rings over fries myself. And to drink?”

“Iced tea, please,” he concluded, handing his menu to her as Tilly did the same.

When she had taken off to place the order, assuring them it wouldn’t be long, Tilly nudged him repeatedly, looking all-too-excited. “Was that flirting?!?” she half-whispered, half-squealed in a tone that felt entirely too noticeable to Rogers’ ears. “Ohmygoodness! Adorable! I’ve never seen you like that, Detective!” More nudging and giggling followed, even after Eva returned with their food, until Joel honestly wanted to slide under the counter and out of sight. However, the food was as delicious as promised, and he found himself happy in a way he hadn’t been in some time - despite any lingering embarrassment.

Tilly seemed to feel the same satisfaction, even asking Eva when she returned with the bill and to hear what they thought of the food, if they sold the marmalade by the jar.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Eva laughed good naturedly as she rang them up. “Though I’ve been telling Granny she should.” She paused for a second as Joel offered her a twenty and her fingers deftly made change. “You’ll just have to come back often to have more.”

Her words were spoken to Tilly, but her glance darted over to take in the handsome dark-haired detective as well, hopeful as they studied his face quickly before flickering away again. 

“That we will,” Tilly affirmed, her look bouncing back and forth between her friend and the waitress mischievously. “Don’t you worry.”

“Aye,” Rogers added with his own crooked smile, reaching out to take his receipt. “I’ve no doubt we’ll be returning often.”

His words cut off abruptly when he and Eva’s fingers touched. The thin cash register paper crumpled as their fingertips met, and his calloused fingers brushed her soft palm. Pictures flashed behind his eyes - of her golden hair cascading loose from her ponytail and his hand tangling in it, of her in a pale pink dress and his favorite leather jacket draped over her shoulders, the two of them sitting by the water somewhere passing a flask of rum back and forth, her fingers clutching at his collar desperately while she hauled him to her for a kiss, surrounded by green leaves and sticky humid air. It was all the more shocking for his having so recently experienced something so similar with Tilly, but if possible this with Eva Cygnet was even more intense. There was no way to deny what he saw - or the way it made him feel.

Eva said nothing, but was similarly arrested by pictures in her own mind: this man before her running his tongue along his lower lip as he flirts with her shamelessly, opening an old-fashioned spyglass with his mouth and then offering it to her as well, brushing her hair back over her shoulder with a hook at the end of his arm in place of the prosthetic, him standing with her by some sort of well, holding out a ring on a necklace chain.

Both of detective and waitress stumbled backward with similarly stunned gasps for air. Their hands fell to their sides, Rogers’ flexing unconsciously as if he had been shocked, and the receipt falling forgotten to the floor between them.

Neither were able to speak, until another customer behind them cleared his throat impatiently, and Tilly linked her arm through the detective’s, propelling him toward the door. “Thanks! We’ll see you soon.”

Eva moved to ring up the next tab, but her fingertips danced over her lips briefly, as if feeling the tingle of a kiss that didn’t happen. “Good,” she thought to herself. She could only hope those words were true.

Tagging just a few others who might enjoy (or have seen enjoying the aesthetic inspiration!) : @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jennjenn615​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @tiganasummertree​

[alj4890]

A Second Chance

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

A/N Weeks have gone by. The paternity results are in and Thomas has now taken Amanda to his attorney’s office to finish changing Kathleen’s last name to Hunt along with making her the heir to his fortune. He decides to take a chance and asks Amanda to go out to dinner. Just the two of them.

@lxaah11​​ @alleksa16​​ @penguininapinktuxedo​​ @blackcoffee85​​ @stopforamoment​​  @hopefulmoonobject​​   @krsnlove​​   @annekebbphotography​​ @hopelessromantic1352​ . @sunflowergirl05​  @desireepow-1986​ @greywitchyshots​​ @lilyofchoices​​​ @moodyvalentinestories​​ @emceesynonymroll​​ @my-heart-beats-for-ya​​ @aworldoffandoms​​ @ab1901​​  @flyawayboo​​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​​ . @trappedinfandoms​​  @kate-mckenzie​​ @cordoniaqueensworld​​ @everythingmarvelsherlockspn​

Masterlist

Catch up here with Chapter 5

Chapter 6

"And sign here." Myles pointed toward the necessary spaces.

Thomas finished signing his name then passed it to Amanda.

She signed under his name.

The attorney leaned back in his chair and explained the new will and trust Thomas had created for Kathleen.

Thomas half listened as he thought of what the last few weeks in California had been like. Having Kathleen and Amanda living in his home had been eye opening. Uninterrupted time with his daughter had strengthened the bond between them.

Once Kathleen had chosen her bedroom; he had removed all the furniture and taken her shopping. Amanda had gone along, smiling often at the two of them as they debated possible furniture and décor. He bought everything that Kathleen liked. He even strung twinkle lights across the ceiling, replaced the simple drapes with ruffled pink curtains, and bought a menagerie of stuffed animals to fill it with. Her first night with all her new things had been one of celebration.

She asked if the three of them could have dinner in there and then watch a movie.

Thomas never thought the day would come where he would be sitting in a pillow fort, eating Chinese takeout, and watching Tangled. Yet here he was loving every moment.

His gaze cut to Amanda as Myles handed her the paperwork with Thomas now legally Kathleen's father. Once the paternity test had come back revealing she was his, he had pushed his lawyer to get her last name and his will changed as quickly as possible.

Amanda had been supportive of his decision. Kathleen was thrilled that she now had his name and practiced writing it out on the little chalkboard he had bought her.

The only thing that could make this better for Thomas would be if Amanda's last name was also legally changed to his.

Living with her had shown him how deeply in love he was. When Kathleen went to bed at night, he would entice Amanda to remain with him to either watch a movie or go for a swim.

He used those moments to find out all he could about her without pushing her into a romantic relationship.

He wanted her. His desire for her had only grown stronger. He did not want one night with her. He wanted the rest of her life.

He wanted to marry her. Finally have her as his.

Finally have his family.

He suspected she might feel something for him. He would catch her looking at him, almost like she did all those years ago when they were dating.

Yet there was something else there in her eyes. Her smile was warmer each time he did something sweet for her or Kathleen.

She had become more relaxed around him. Amanda had stopped shying away from touching him. There had been a few times as they watched Kathleen playing or coloring that she would quietly slip her arm around his waist.

But he wanted more. These sweet in between moments could be the norm while they took the next step. He knew how affectionate she was when in love. Thomas intended to have it all for himself.

He just did not know how to broach the subject.

"And that's it." Myles said.

Thomas blinked and refocused. "Everything's set?"

"It is." He smiled at the two. "Ms. Hunt will have no financial worries." He glanced at his watch and apologized for having to rush out to another meeting. He told them to call if any other concerns came to mind.

Amanda reached across the table for Thomas's hand. He turned to her once Myles left the conference room.

"Thank you for this." She said, rubbing her thumb over the top of his hand. "It isn't the money, but knowing that in the eyes of the world, Kathleen is your daughter."

He gripped her hand. "I know you say that you don't need child support, but I would like to have a part in caring for her, paying for whatever she needs."

"I understand." She let go of his hand and stood up. "Shall we?"

He stood up and took her hand again as she passed by, tugging her close. Her eyebrow lifted in question.

"How would you like to go to dinner tonight?" He asked.

"My schedule is so busy," she teased, "I'm not sure if I can join you and Kathleen this evening."

He smiled. "I meant just us." He lowered his eyes to their clasped hands. "It's been a long time since you and I went out. I'm sure Rachel and Stephen will watch Kathleen."

Amanda laughed at the thought. When Thomas had told his sister about Kathleen being in his home, she and her husband Stephen had shown up that very night.

Unlike Holly and Addison, Rachel had understood why Amanda had kept Kathleen a secret from all of them that were close to Thomas.

"You were wise not to trust us to keep our mouths closed." Rachel said one night. "We all would have flayed him alive with our tempers." She then added that if they had been told though, the misunderstandings could have been rectified so much sooner.

She and Stephen immediately fell under Kathleen's spell. The little girl in turn adored the two that were her new relatives. They took her out every day for special aunt/uncle/niece time. In other words, they spoiled her every chance they got.

Holly and Addison, along with Matt and Ryan, also accepted the little girl as their own. They could hardly get over the fact that Thomas was not only a father but that he had eased into the role without any difficulty.

The four along with Rachel and Stephen watched the family of three closely, especially Thomas and Amanda. They knew how he had pined for years for the duchess. Now that the two had a reason to see each other on a regular basis, the group wanted to see them together as they should be: a couple.

"How about it?" Thomas repeated. "A night out without a children's menu?"

She laughed and shook her head at the menu joke. "That sounds nice."

"I'm taking that as a yes." He put his hand at her back and guided her toward the elevators. "I'll make the reservations and pick you up around seven."

"Pick me up?" She teased. "My, we really are going all out with this dinner."

Thomas couldn't quite contain his smile. "It isn't every night I get to have you to myself."

Amanda felt her heart triple in beat. Did he mean that in a romantic sense or a platonic one? He probably only wanted a night out as an adult and was merely offering her the same as a friendly gesture.

As much as she tried to deny it, she felt that old love for him stirring to life more and more as time went on. His obvious love and care for Kathleen touched her aching heart in ways she had not anticipated.

She loved seeing him so uncertain yet trying to make his home special for their daughter. Seeing him agree to every little whim Kathleen had, made her smile at the sheer sweetness.

Then the little things he did for Amanda made her fall even more in love. He remembered things from their past that astounded her. He surprised her one evening with her favorite meal from a local Mexican restaurant. He had all her favorite classic movies on hand, explaining to Kathleen how he had developed a new love of many of them due to her mother. He had restocked his pantry with her English Breakfast tea bags and brown sugar cubes. Every gesture chipped away at the wall she had erected around her heart.

Their conversations at night caused a longing in her that life could be like this. Being with him while their child was tucked safe and content in her bed, it was her old dream, the very one she had tried to forget.

How could she though when he was all that she had ever wanted?

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

"Which do you think?" Thomas held up two blazers.

Kathleen tilted her head as she studied the navy blue and then the charcoal gray. She was sitting in the middle of his bed amid a variety of dress shirts. "I like that one." She pointed at the gray. "And I like this shirt." She held up the black.

"Perfect." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You have quite the eye for color coordination."

"I have two." She scrunched her shoulders with a giggle.

"I am very grateful for that." He replied with a smile. "Now then, anything else you can think of that I should do to make the night special for your mother?"

Kathleen propped her head on her hand as she thought. "Flowers. Mommy loved the ones you brought for my birthday."

"I can't believe I forgot about that." He muttered. He made a quick phone call and ordered a bouquet of tulips. "Anything else?"

Her little brow furrowed in thought. "Uncle Max said that she loves to dance but she doesn't do it anymore."

"Then I suppose it is up to me to remedy that." He wrote that idea down. "You have been a tremendous help."

Kathleen plucked at his bedspread. "Daddy?"

"Hmm?" He went into his closet to choose a tie.

"I'm a Hunt and you're a Hunt." She squirmed a little. "But Mommy's not."

He paused in his search. "No, she isn't." He saw the unhappiness on her little face and went to her. "What's wrong?"

"Mommy isn't part of the family." She whispered with a sniff.

He knelt beside his bed and took her hands in his. "Yes, she is."

"But she's still a Bridgerton." Kathleen pointed out. "Can't she be a Hunt too?"

"She can." He replied. "I plan on doing all I can to make her want to be one." He smoothed her hair out of her eyes. "It is up to her if and when she wants to change her last name."

Her eyes widened. “Are you going to marry her?”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. “Whatever your mother wants, I am going to do.” He held his daughter’s hands. “As soon as the moment is right, I will ask your mother to marry me.”

"So, we can be a family?" Kathleen asked excitedly.

"We are a family." He stressed once more. "We simply are one with two different last names at the moment." He picked her up and hugged her tight. "Why don't you go choose some movies to watch with Aunt Rachel and Uncle Stephen? I need to start getting ready."

"Okay." She hugged him once more then skipped out of his room.

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

Stephen let out a low whistle when Thomas came downstairs.

He glared at his sister and brother-in-law when they let out a couple of catcalls. "Where's Kathleen?"

"In the kitchen with Amanda." Rachel grinned when he immediately went in that direction.

He paused in the kitchen doorway and watched the two.

Kathleen was sitting on the counter, giggling while Amanda spoke with a funny accent.

"These cookies are mine! No one else shall have them." Amanda pretended to sneak away with the tray she had removed from the oven.

"Mommy!" Kathleen gasped between her laughter.

Amanda turned around and brought them back over. Her own smile was bright at hearing her daughter's sweet laugh. "Be sure to share with Aunt Rachel and Uncle Stephen."

"I will." She promised. Kathleen looked up and called out to Thomas. "Do you want a cookie, Daddy?"

"No thank you." He joined them and helped lift Kathleen off the counter.

Amanda paused halfway in placing the cookies on a plate. Her eyes drifted down Thomas in his dark gray suit and black dress shirt. His tan skin and jet-black hair seemed even more noticeable...even more handsome. "You look nice."

He smiled softly as his eyes touched on her figure. "Thank you. I've always thought you looked beautiful in red."

Amanda nervously smoothed her short skirt. "Thank you."

She handed the plate to Kathleen and watched her carefully carry it into the living room.

Thomas stepped closer to Amanda. "I've been looking forward to tonight."

She finished wiping her hands while a smile played about her lips. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Are you ready to go?"

She looked down at herself. "I think so, unless you think I should wear something else?"

"You look perfect." He took her hand and pulled her along behind him.

Kathleen was snuggled between Rachel and Stephen on the couch. She waved  goodbye to them while eating a cookie.

"Have a good time." Rachel told them as she walked them to the door. "And don't hurry home."

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

71Above, Los Angeles...

"I forgot how much attention you draw when out." Amanda teased when they were seated at their table.

He frowned slightly at the people whispering and pointing. "So did I. I don't know why they do so."

She chuckled and picked up her menu. "It couldn't have anything to do with your handsome looks or immense talent."

He shook his head in exasperation and turned his attention back to her. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"We can if you wish." She said. "I can ignore them."

His eyes touched on how she looked in the soft light reflected from L.A.'s skyline. He was not quite ready to abandon the romantic restaurant because of a few nosy patrons. "I can ignore them too."

Her smile was warm as she lowered her eyes.

Thomas set out to charm her. Every story, every bit of flirty teasing, every brush of his fingers against her hand; it all had one purpose. He wanted her to fall in love with him again.

Amanda's cheeks were a touch pink under his steady gaze. She would often lower her lashes while smiling with his flirting. He had forgotten how those mannerisms used to encourage his attempts in romancing her.

He began to feel confident in his efforts with her leaving her hand in his and the almost permanent smile on her face. Once dinner was over, he took her to the next planned part of their evening.

"Aren't we going home?" Amanda asked when he drove on into the city.

"Kathleen shared an observation with me." He answered. "I thought it was time to try again."

Amanda lifted an eyebrow at his attempt at being mysterious. "Care to share what that observation was?"

"I think I'd rather leave it a surprise." He chuckled when she groaned.

"I think you've forgotten how little I like surprises." She huffed while folding her arms.

"I haven't forgotten." He told her.

"Ah, so you've resorted to torture now on your evenings out." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "Shame on you, Mr. Hunt."

Thomas couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face at her teasing. It was reminiscent of how things once had been between them. He missed having that. She was one if not the only one that brought out that playful side of his personality.

"A night club?" Amanda said in disbelief when he parked the car. "This is what Kathleen suggested?"

"She merely shared that Maxwell had told her how much you loved to dance and that you haven't done so in a very long time." He explained.

Her brow furrowed with that observation. "I don't think I've been dancing since that trip you and I took to Cabo."

He paused as memories of that vacation came to mind. That was a month or two before they-- "Amanda? Was Kathleen conceived during that trip?"

Her eyes widened as she quickly did the math. "She must have been! We were there at the end of December and I had her in September."

He placed his arm around her waist. He remembered that trip well. It had been a series of one romantic moment after another. Knowing that Kathleen was created during such a time made it seem all the more significant.

"What are you thinking about?" Amanda asked when he remained silent.

Thomas lowered his eyes to her. "That night we spent on the yacht in Cabo."

She didn't know how to respond. That night was one that she had never been able to forget. It had been one of the most romantic of her life. One of the most passionate.

He pulled her closer to his side once they were in the club. The place was crowded, and music blared from the speakers. They both cringed from the strobe light and the vibrations from the bass.

Amanda rose on her toes to speak in his ear. "Let's get out of here."

He began to shake his head, determined to take her dancing.

She laced her fingers with his and pulled him out of the building.

"Amanda, I don't mind--"

"I think I've outgrown the club scene." She explained. Her smile was warm as she stepped closer, raising her hands to his crooked tie. "I prefer being out with you in places where I can actually hear what you say."

His lips curved softly. He set his hands on her waist as she worked on his tie, tempted to pull her flush to his body. "So do I." He took her hand and led her back to his car. "One more place to go that I think might make up for this."

"Thomas, there isn't any need to--" her breath caught when he placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her between him and the car. Amanda lifted her eyes to his, wondering what he was going to do. Hoping he might...she stopped thinking. "You have already given me a wonderful night out."

He leaned closer to her. "I want this night to be special."

She swallowed and tried to keep from focusing on his mouth. "It has been."

He stepped away from her and opened her door. "If you don't care for our last stop then I will take you home."

She almost reached out to pull him back to her. "Okay."

He smiled a touch proudly when he heard the slight intake of her breath once more. He got in on his side of the car and drove off.

A short time later they were walking along the docks.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with our remembering Cabo, would it?" She teased when they stood before his yacht.

"I actually had this planned before that memory was brought to mind." He helped her aboard and followed after her.

He opened the door to the main saloon.

Her lips parted in surprise. A bouquet of tulips sat beside a bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket on a table near the couch. A glass covered tray was set on another end table holding various desserts.

"Someone is going to a great deal of trouble." She teased when soft music drifted through the surround sound speakers.

He pulled her into a slow dance. "This? No trouble at all."

She rested her cheek on his shoulder as he swayed with her to the beat. Amanda closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to drop all the cautious barriers she had placed around her heart so that she could enjoy being in his arms once more.

Thomas set her other hand on his shoulder and wrapped both his arms around her. When she raised her head, their eyes met before lowering to the other's lips.

He waited on her to make the first move. He needed her to be the one to make the decision on giving him a second chance. He briefly closed his eyes when her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Their bodies were brushing against the other's as the tension built between the few inches that separated their parted lips.

She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Thank you for taking me out." A self-depreciating smile formed. "I haven't had a night out on the town in a very long time."

"Thank you for accepting." He murmured, keeping his gaze on her mouth.

She tried to ignore the need to kiss him. Ignore the need to see if it was like it once had been. Feel that electric tingle across her skin.

She knew it was foolish to play with this type of fire. She had resolved to never again take a chance on love. Kathleen was to never suffer from her decisions.

Amanda had vowed to be single for the rest of her life the week after Kathleen's birth. She knew she could never have some man have a say in her daughter’s upbringing.

But Thomas was not some random man. He was the father of her child. He was innocent of all the previously thought wrongdoings.

He was here, right where she had once hoped he would be. Thomas was showing her the type of attention she had once craved so long ago.

What if she gave in to his wish and tried a romantic relationship again? What if it ended horribly?

What if it didn't?

She hesitated and lifted her eyes to his.

Thomas saw all her vulnerable uncertainty in the hazel depths. He knew he should stick to his plan and admit he was more in love with her than he had ever been once they were in Cordonia. He believed he needed her to see how he could fit into her life there as well as anywhere else.

But he did not think he could wait any longer.

"I'm in lo--" his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his coat’s interior pocket. "It's Rachel."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Kathleen? Do you think she's--"

Thomas quickly answered.

"We need you to come home." Stephen explained. "Kathleen became sick and has been crying for Amanda."

She snatched the phone out of Thomas's hand. "What happened?"

"She was fine, playing, then complained about her stomach hurting. Next thing we knew, she ran to the bathroom and threw up." Stephen's voice sounded strained. "She began to cry which caused her to throw up again."

"I'm on my way." Amanda swiftly left the saloon and hurried off the yacht.

Thomas chased after her. "Amanda, wait a mo--"

"I don't have a moment!" Amanda snapped. Her stiletto heel got stuck in one of the slits on the dock. Her foot came completely out of her shoe.

Thomas knelt and pried it loose, slipping it back on her foot. "Everything is going to be fine."

"My daughter is sick." Amanda said in a disapproving tone. "I shouldn't have gone out."

"She probably ate too many cookies." Thomas tried to make her see reason.

"I don't care what caused it." Amanda cursed when she stumbled over another plank.

Thomas caught her before she hit the dock and pulled her close. He gently tilted her chin up. "I will get us home as fast as I can."

Her frown eased. "Thank you." She held onto his arm as they made their way off the dock.

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

Amanda hurried upstairs as Rachel told all that had happened.

"I gave her another bath." Rachel followed closely at her heels. "She threw up all over her pajamas when she started crying."

"Poor angel." Amanda mumbled. She stepped into Kathleen's bedroom and went straight to her bed.

"Mommy." Kathleen reached out for her.

Amanda sat down beside her and held her close. "Shh, it's okay." She gently rubbed her back. "I'm here." She thanked Rachel for taking care of her.

Thomas paused in the doorway as his sister left the room. "Is there anything I can do?"

"She will need some electrolytes. Anything like Gatorade or Pedialyte." Amanda replied. "And possibly some popsicles."

“Orange.” Kathleen mumbled as she curled up in her mother’s lap. “I only like orange ones to drink.”

“Orange electrolytes and cherry popsicles.” Amanda told him.

“I’ll take care of it.” Thomas promised. He quickly left the room and told his sister where he was going.

“We’ll go for you.” Stephen offered. “That way you can help if Amanda needs anything.”

Thomas thanked them. He wrote down what Kathleen liked and gave them money. They ignored his money and took the list, leaving him uncertain with what he should do now.

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

Once he was gone, Amanda settled Kathleen back in her bed. She remained sitting beside her daughter with her back to the headboard.

Kathleen moved her head to Amanda's lap. "Will you sing the song?"

Her mother's lips curved softly as she gently ran her fingers through Kathleen's hair. "Of course."

Thomas paused in the hallway when he heard Amanda singing. He recalled that she was not known by friends and loved ones for having a good singing voice. But something about this particular song and the way she kept her voice low seemed soothing. He quietly approached the bedroom and watched the two.

Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my gal and I ain't together

Keeps raining all the time

Life is bare. Gloom and misery everywhere

Stormy weather

Just can't get my poor self together

I'm weary all the time, the time

So weary all the time

Kathleen had a smile on her face as her eyes drooped closed. Her favorite part of the song was coming up.

When she went away the blues walked in and met me

If she stays away, that old rockin' chair gonna get me

All I do is pray the Lord above will let me

Walk in the sun once more,

Can't go on, everything is gone

Stormy weather

Since my gal and I ain't together

Keeps rainin' all the time

Keeps rainin' all the time

Kathleen yawned and snuggled closer. Thomas stepped in when Amanda paused in singing. He quietly told her that Rachel and Stephen went shopping for them. He then went into Kathleen’s bathroom and retrieved a cool, damp rag when Amanda asked him to get one.

She gently placed the rag on Kathleen's forehead, still humming Stormy Weather.

Thomas sat down in a padded rocker, observing the two.

Amanda carefully moved Kathleen to her pillow once she was asleep.

He followed her out of the bedroom and across the hallway to her room. "Is there anything else we need to do?"

"I'm going to change clothes and sit up with her for a few more hours." Amanda explained, stepping inside her room. She hesitated then looked up at him. "Feel free to get some rest. I'm used to doing this on my own whenever she is ill."

His lips firmed in a slight frown when she gathered some comfortable clothes and went into the bathroom to change. He loosened his tie and went to his own bedroom.

Amanda returned to Kathleen's room and rewet the rag, placing it back on her head.

She sat down once more on the bed and hummed when Kathleen moved restlessly and whimpered.

Thomas returned in a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt. He took his spot in the rocker once more.

"You don't have to be here." Amanda whispered, surprised to see him again.

"Yes, I do." He whispered back. "I have to be here for you." He paused. "Both of you."

She lowered her eyes and resumed gently running her fingers through her daughter's hair in soothing repetitions.

"Why Stormy Weather?" He asked softly.

Amanda's lips turned up in a smile. "I listened to Frank Sinatra albums throughout most of my pregnancy. One night, a month after Kathleen's birth, she cried for hours, fighting sleep. I tried everything to calm her down. Eventually, pacing and singing his rendition of Stormy Weather helped her fall asleep. It worked each time after that, and she now claims it as the song. She usually likes it sung whenever she is sick."

Thomas softly chuckled. "She would appreciate the classics."

Amanda nodded, laughing. "She loves his singing."

His smile was tender. "She got that from you. If I remember correctly, you once said you would have had a hard time not melting if you had been one of the women in the movies he sung to."

Amanda shook her head at her own foolishness. "I was born in the wrong time period."

He stood up and stretched. "Let's sit over there." He whispered when he noticed her shift, trying to get comfortable on the small bed.

Amanda followed him over to the loveseat that Kathleen had chosen for her movie corner in her room. They sat down and remained quiet as they watched Kathleen sleep.

He set his arm along the back of the couch and urged Amanda closer. She glanced down when his other hand held hers and felt that old stirring of memories. There had been a number of times when she was taking care of Kathleen that she had wished he had been there comforting her as she worried over every little thing.

She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a calmness come over her just by having him by her side.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there.

After an hour, she fell asleep, turning more in his arms. He repositioned her and held her close. Thomas covered the two of them with one of the fuzzy blankets that was nearby.

He lowered his head to kiss the top of hers once more. He closed his eyes, feeling grateful to have her in his arms again. Though it wasn't quite how he had wished the night would end, Thomas hoped it would lead to an even closer relationship with Amanda.

[artificialqueens]

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 2 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: I am so excited to finally be writing this story, especially as part of the challenge. Thank you so much to anyone who’s liked or commented. And especially thank you to the creator of the Galactica universe, @theartificialdane

Last chapter: After flirting via text and social media for a few months, Vixen and Courtney finally met in person, and ended up in bed.

This chapter: After a slightly awkward morning, they try to navigate an undefined long-distance situation.

***

It could have been a lazy morning, cuddling in bed while the rain pounded down outside, streaming against the windows, turning the whole world blurry and surreal. Vixen could have stayed in bed, warm and safe, and basked in the glow of their adorable puppy-love until Courtney had to leave for her photo shoot.

She could have let herself enjoy this—whatever it was, for at least a few more hours.

Instead, she woke up feeling unsettled and insecure, slipping out of bed to hunt down a toothbrush while Courtney dozed peacefully. It wasn’t until she was trying to quietly put her clothes back on and figure out where the hell her coat was that Courtney stirred.

“Good morning,” Courtney said with a yawn, sitting up slowly, tousled hair falling over her shoulders.

“Hey, sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Vixen said. Her coat was nowhere to be found, she realized, because it was still downstairs where she’d checked it when she arrived. She rolled her eyes at her own alcohol-fueled stupidity and shoved her feet into her shoes.

It seemed to take Courtney a few moments to comprehend what Vixen had said, brow furrowing.

“You weren’t gonna say goodbye?” she asked softly.

Vixen froze.

“No, that’s not what I...I just know it’s early and I didn’t want to bother you with-”

Shit.

Courtney pulled the blankets up over her chest, an inscrutable expression on her face.  

“Look, I know that I have a reputation for…” she paused, swallowing, “...I guess, taking this kind of thing lightly. But, that’s not what this is. I really like you.”

Guilt bloomed in Vixen’s chest as she moved to the bed, sitting down beside her. It actually hadn’t occurred to her, until this very moment, that Courtney might be feeling a scrap of the insecurity that plagued her. Everything about her life felt so charmed and perfect and easy; it was hard to remember that she was human too.

“I’m sorry,” Vixen said sincerely. “I really like you too. I just...I wasn’t thinking.”

Courtney nodded. It seemed like she believed her, so Vixen decided not to push it.

“Um...you fly back tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And then your tour starts on-”

“Friday,” Courtney answered, a hint of resigned exhaustion in her voice before adding a chipper, “Can’t wait!”

Vixen chuckled softly.

“Well...then I guess I’ll see you when you’re in Chicago.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone hopefully.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Courtney gave her a lopsided grin, which deepened when Vixen moved closer, kissing her lightly.

“Hey, um...text me later. Tell me about that museum,” Courtney told her, fingers lacing with Vixen’s.

“I will. And you...let me know how everything goes today.”

“Sure.”

When Vixen pulled back to look at her, she was relieved as the brightness in her eyes. It was going to be a long couple of months, but with things being what they were, it seemed unwise to try and define their relationship any more than “can’t wait to see you again.” So for now, this would have to do.

***

Trying to keep a lid on her obvious fuming, Vixen typed out a text.

Sorry to bother you right now, but the guard won’t let us in without backstage passes. Can someone maybe call him?

“Where are your passes?” the guard said again, crossing his arms, a scowl on his face.

“I...already told you, we don’t have passes, but I’m supposed to be on the list. Toni Taylor.” Vixen shifted, indignation rising in her chest as he stared her down. She was not going to lose it, though. Not here.

“You’re not on the list,” he said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Show him the text!” Monet said, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Oh right...sir, look. I have a text from Courtney Act that says to meet her here. I just contacted her again, but I’m sure she’s busy, so if you could-”

“How the hell do I know that’s a real text?” the guard scoffed.

“I...how far would we get if it wasn’t?!” Vixen asked, exasperated. “You think her people are just gonna let us in? Do you think that we think we can sneak around anywhere?” Vixen gestured to their group, five tall Black women all in bright, colorful club wear. Not the most inconspicuous of groups.

COURTNEY: OMG COMING NOW

“She says she’s coming,” Vixen said, looking up at the girls.

“Herself?” Monique asked, head tilted questioningly.

“I...I don’t know,” Vixen said.

But in fact, within 2 minutes, Courtney rounded the corner, in silver thigh-high boots and a makeup smock, hair half in curlers, the blonde offset by fresh rainbow highlights, marching towards them like a bat out of hell. A terrified redheaded boy wearing a headset followed on her heels.

“Where are they?!” Courtney demanded, then looked up and spotted Vixen, her face softening, hurrying toward her. She wrapped Vixen into a tight embrace, saying, “I’m so sorry about this, are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Vixen laughed. “Don’t worry, no one got out of line.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, this kind of shit is so fucking irritating.”

The guard, utterly chagrined now, started to stammer out an apology, but Courtney held up her hand.

“It’s fine. It’s your boss that I’m annoyed at.”

“So are they all on the list for-”

“Yes! All of them! Jonathan, give them the passes.” Courtney snapped her fingers at the ginger boy by her side, who hurriedly handed out VIP backstage passes to the whole group as Courtney led them back down the hall to the green room.

Mayhem and Monet exchanged a glance, Mayhem mouthing, ‘BAD ASS,’ and Monet laughing silently, nodding.

When they finally reached the large green room, Courtney turned around, urging the girls to make themselves comfortable.

“Have a seat anywhere. There’s food, drinks, and I…” she clasped her hands together. “...I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, girl. I love seeing someone yell at a douchey bouncer. Hi, I’m Monet.” She reached out a hand towards Courtney.

“Monique,” Monique jumped in quickly. “…and this is Mayhem.”

“Monet...Monique...Mayhem…” Courtney repeated with a nod. “Well, that’s gonna be a challenge.”

“Why?” Vixen asked, brow furrowed. “‘Cause all Black people look the same?”

Courtney’s eyes widened in alarm.

“No!” she insisted. “No, I meant because it’s just a lot of M names! And if-” she stopped short, seeing the stifled grins on all the faces around her, and narrowed her eyes.

Unable to hold back any longer, the girls all burst out laughing, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. Courtney shook her head at Vixen, grinning.

“Good one. I almost had a heart attack,” she said, finally allowing herself to chuckle.

“Vix, what have we told you about scaring white girls just before their concerts?” Asia asked.

“Uhh...to do it?” The girls continued to laugh.

“Hey...I’m Moesha,” Asia said, and Courtney nodded slowly. When Mayhem hit her on the arm, she grinned and said, “Just kidding. I’m Asia.”

“Thank god,” Courtney breathed, a relieved giggle escaping. “So, I’m so glad you guys are here, but I kinda need to go finish preparing. I, uh…” She gestured to her half-done makeup and hair.

“Of course. Don’t worry about us,” Asia told her. “You go do your thing, get your makeup done, we’ll just be here. We’re gonna switch shirts and then test you on all the names.”

“Brilliant,” Courtney laughed. She turned to Vixen, fingers brushing against her wrist, asking, “Do you wanna come...hang out while they finish my makeup? You can see Kylie.”

“Sure!”

“Who’s Kylie?” Asia asked coyly, and Vixen turned around to give her a warning look before following Courtney into the adjacent room.

“Her dog.”

“Oh. Pity. I was hoping that it was her pus-”

“Asia!”

***

The concert was great—Vixen hadn’t seen Courtney perform for years, and she’d certainly upped the production value. Plus, having a VIP experience with some of her closest friends was awesome. It felt like the old days, all of them laughing and drinking and dancing and gossiping like school girls. Asia especially made her feel some type of way—ever since making partner at her law firm, she’d been working so much that Vixen hardly saw her. But tonight, they felt like kids again, even doing shots at one point, laughing until their stomachs hurt.

By the time they met Courtney backstage, collapsed in a sweaty mess on one of the green room sofas, Vixen felt pleasantly buzzed, happy and warm all over.

They settled in with more drinks and Indian food ordered from a nearby restaurant.

“So, how do you guys all know each other?” Courtney asked.

“College, mostly.” Vixen said, telling her how Asia was her RA freshman year at Hillman. “I was a fucking mess,” she said, laughing.

“You sure were,” Asia agreed, telling Courtney, “She spent most of the Fall semester on my carpet in tears.”

“Awww…”

“Well, fuck you, I had a lot on my mind!” Vixen snapped, then giggled again. “And, uh...Monique was in the same dorm. Although we didn’t really become friends until that Spring.”

“Yes! That philosophy class, with the...ugh,” Monique recalled, shaking her head.

“Monet was my study partner until she abandoned me,” Vixen went on, and Monet laughed.

“Listen, I just didn’t connect with all that sociology jargon. It didn’t speak to me,” Monet said.

“And uh, Mayhem met Monet through some educational leadership networking bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Monet nodded.

“And now we’re just...a bunch of boring ladies who work too hard and meet like once every 2 months for brunch,” Monique said.

“Party!” Mayhem added, clinking their classes.

Courtney grinned, listening to them share stories of their debaucherous college days and their sordid, stressed out twenties. Vixen could tell she was exhausted, knew that she was sacrificing her precious few hours of sleep before she had to get back onto the tour bus, just to hang out with her and get to know her friends.

Vixen kept looking over at her with a stupid, goofy smile on her face. At some point, it became permanent, making her cheeks hurt.

When the tour manager pulled Courtney away for a quick discussion, Asia took Vixen’s hand and squeezed it, saying, “Now, I know you don’t need my approval…but I like her.”

“Thanks,” Vixen grinned. Well. Continued grinning.

“And tell her I want tickets to the Oscars.”

“Oooh!” Monet chimed in. “I wanna go to the Tonys!”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be her first priority, guys,” Vixen said with an eye roll.

“It’s not fair...why can’t a rich, famous pop star fall in love with me?” Mayhem whined. “I’m very lovable.”

“Ehhh,” Monique gave her the ‘so-so’ gesture and the rest of the group busted up laughing once again.

Later, after several rounds of good-bye hugs, the girls headed for their car, and Vixen lingered behind, telling them to go ahead without her, she’d get her own car. (And then of course, she had to pretend not to see Asia’s knowing wink.)

“We had a great time, I really...you were fantastic up there,” Vixen said.

“Thank you for coming,” Courtney said, leaning against the door frame. “Now, don’t get me wrong, all audiences are special, in their own unique way…”

Vixen laughed, reaching out to cup her cheek.

“But, um…” Courtney trailed off, eyes shining as Vixen’s thumb grazed her skin.

Vixen leaned in, watching her eyes fall closed before pressing their lips together. The kiss was soft and sweet, and fairly chaste. But when Vixen pulled away, the dreamy expression on Courtney’s face made her heart hammer heavily.

“I love your hair like this,” Courtney said, admiring the gold woven into her twists.

“I tried to glam it up for you.”

“You’re beautiful.” Courtney’s lashes fluttered, arms wrapping around Vixen’s waist.

“So are you,” Vixen said, hands still cupping her face. “So...I know you must be pretty exhausted...but…you’re also really hot.”  

Courtney bit her lip and leaned in for another kiss, lips trailing down her jaw and then nuzzling into her neck. She heaved a deep sigh.

“I really want you, but I can barely keep my eyes open,” Courtney admitted, voice muffled against Vixen’s skin.

“So...maybe I should leave, and let you rest.” She trailed her fingers through Courtney’s hair, watching the way her colorful highlights caught the dim light, not yet ready to let go of the moment.

“Okay,” Courtney agreed, hands still gripping her waist tightly.

Of course, she ended up staying. By the time they settled into Courtney’s hotel room, they barely had 3 hours. So Vixen just wrapped Courtney into her arms and held her, enjoying this little sliver of affection before she took off again, knowing that it might not be until her tour ended in October that they would see each other again.

***

Vixen had watched the video twice already, feeling only mildly ashamed as she started it again. Courtney was lying on a yoga mat, post-workout, skin glistening with sweat. She picked up a bottle of water, the video switching to slow motion as she began to pour it all over her face and chest. She batted her wet lashes, blinking the water out of her eyes before looking directly into the camera and slowly licking her lips. The whole video was just silly enough for plausible deniability (especially the caption of “oh no, i spilled!”) and yet unmistakably alluring. And of course, Vixen’s stomach flipped every time she saw that tongue. What was wrong with her?

VIXEN: Wow. Your last post was…

COURTNEY: You like it? ;)

VIXEN: You look like a THOT

COURTNEY: LOL! Are you slut shaming me?!

VIXEN: I mean...

COURTNEY: Wow. And here I thought you were all about empowerment. Smh

VIXEN: FINE. Go ahead...live your best slut life.

COURTNEY: Aww, thx! Xoxo

***

Vixen was deeply aware of what she said on social media. As much as she wanted to pop off at people (and had, frequently, back in another lifetime, years ago), she knew that her academic credentials required at least a small semblance of self control.

So for the most part, she kept her tweets and instagram comments brief and professional. Almost formal.

Courtney, however, had no such rules for herself. She basically said any and everything on her mind, commented unabashedly, posted without filters. (Except like, literal filters, which she seemed to enjoy tremendously.) It was both endearing and, at times, deeply concerning for Vixen, for whom privacy was essential.

For instance, there was the story from Seoul Pride, where she met up with one of her old friends, Adore Delano—the two of them gallivanting around, drinking and laughing and screaming like idiots from a parade float. The whole thing culminated in a video of Courtney in a nightclub, glassy-eyed and extremely proud of herself, literally licking Adore’s face.  

And then when Vixen posted a still from an interview with the Tribune, she immediately responded with nothing but a row of 10 heart-eyed emojis. Which led to Vixen getting hundreds upon hundreds of comments from what she presumed were Courtney’s (very young) followers: unbridled, hysterical excitement the likes of which she had never seen.

VIXEN: Um. What...with all due respect...the fuck?

COURTNEY: Oh yeah. The shippers. Sorry, I should have warned you.

VIXEN: I mean. Jesus fucking Christ.

COURTNEY: We’re OTP #couplegoals now. I’m afraid you have to marry me.

VIXEN: Seems that way, doesn’t it? BTW where are you? What time is it? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

COURTNEY: Berlin. 4 am. Yes.

VIXEN: Say goodnight, Courtney

COURTNEY: Goodnight Courtney <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

***

A few days later, after finishing some rather emotional office hours (why every student felt the need to unburden their deepest traumas on Vixen that Wednesday, she didn’t know), she took a much-needed break, sipping a cup of coffee. She saw the picture right away (okay, maybe she had alerts set up by now, whatever)—Courtney curled up in bed with her dog, wearing a fuzzy pink unicorn onesie with turquoise accents and a ridiculous rhinestoned horn.

VIXEN: I can’t decide if it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever worn, or like...mortifying

COURTNEY: Both!

VIXEN: Lol, fair enough

COURTNEY: And perfect for cuddling ;)

VIXEN: I’ll bet!

COURTNEY: Why don’t you send me a pic in your favorite sleepwear?

VIXEN: I’m supposed to be a respectable member of the faculty, and you want me to use school wifi for that?

COURTNEY: SEND NUDES XXX

VIXEN: Lol

*

About a week later, a box showed up at Vixen’s front door. The return address had Courtney’s name and an unfamiliar return address. She assumed it was fine, but her suspicious nature required a safety check.

VIXEN: What’s in this package that just showed up at my house?

COURTNEY: OMG! That was so fast!! Open it!!

VIXEN: So, not a bomb? Please confirm

COURTNEY: Lol, no. Open it.

Vixen took the box inside, cutting it open carefully. Inside, there was another box, pink and shiny, with a card on top. The note read, ‘To replace your hoodie. Perfect for snuggling. XO, C.’

She lifted the lid on the pink box, and nestled inside was a fluffy turquoise dragon onesie with iridescent pink scales. It was the silliest thing that Vixen had ever seen. Silly and beautiful and perfect.

VIXEN: Damn. I guess fantasies do come true.

COURTNEY: I hope so...

[luckyjak]

fic: Overheard Conversations

Be careful spying on friends, lest you learn something you shouldn’t. [The M9 scry on Essek and learn about his crush on Caleb, the fic]

A gift for @martyart who keeps doing amazing Shadowgast art! [A03 Link}

In the Mighty Nein’s defense, they were trying to be polite.

“What if he’s busy?” Caleb had argued. “It’s getting late. He may be doing--doing--I don’t know what he does in his free time, but it’s the weekend and we can’t possibly assume he’s free to teleport us.”

“That’s why I’ll send him a message, Cay-leb, and he can tell us if he’s busy or not.”

“I dunno. I kind of agree with Caleb here. I feel like interrupting his weekend is kind of a dick move.” Beau offered, not really helping. “I already get the impression that he might try to kill us if we keep bothering him, especially after last time.”

“At the same time, if he’s free and doesn’t mind helping, we are going to a tropical island for Traveler-con. Maybe he’ll want to join us?” Fjord offered.

“Why don’t you scry on him?” Caduceus offered. “That way we’ll know if he’s busy or not, and we won’t risk annoying him by sending a message.”

Caleb immediately shook his head. “That won’t work. He’s bound to have some sort of magical protection. He’s not stupid--”

“I dunno, dude, like you said it is the weekend. He may just be relaxing at home or something. Chillin’. Totally willing to take us to a hot tropical island.”

“Should we really scry on our friends?” Fjord asked. “Feels a little immoral. What if he’s in the bath or something?”

Jester giggled. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that!”

(She had a feeling Caleb wouldn’t have minded, either, but he didn’t say anything. She could tell, though, by how red his ears got.)

“We spy on Yasha all the time!” Nott argued.

“Yes, but Yasha is actively evil right now, so she doesn’t count!”

“So we burn a spell slot to find out if we need to burn another spell slot?”

“Like we haven’t wasted spells on stupider stuff. Also, this keeps us in Essek’s good graces, which let’s be real, we totally need,” Beau huffed. “Also, we haven’t fought anything all day so Jester should have plenty of spells.”

“I haven’t cast anything today so far, true.” Jester interrupted, and then giggled. “Oh, why not? I’ve always wanted to see what Essek gets up to when we’re not around!”

Caleb had started to protest, but it was too late: she had already begun her ritual.

--

The Traveler guided her, as always, and led her--not to a quiet home like she might have thought, but to a crowded restaurant in the Lucid Bastion. “The city is thriving tonight,” the Traveler whispered as he led her through the packed streets to a busy restaurant where Essek was sitting at a small table quietly, alone. “Come, let’s see what your friend is up to this evening.”

It was a fancy restaurant, definitely. There was fine silverware and free bread on the table, and the people there were dressed in finer gowns and robes. The lighting was low and soft, and there was a gentleman playing a violin nearby. It looked like the place you might go on date, Jester thought, and then immediately squealed. Am I interrupting Essek on a date???

He was even dressed a little nicer--he still wore his mantle, like always, but it looked like he had gotten his hair cut in the few hours it had been since she last saw him. He looked bored, though, reading a book and drinking a glass of something dark and expensive-looking. She had the impression that he was waiting on someone.

She (and Essek) didn’t have to wait long, though; soon a gorgeous drow woman walked up and joined Essek at the table. She had short white hair cropped in a straight bob that went down a little ways past her ears. Her makeup was dark but to the point, accentuating her long eyelashes and her dark golden eyes. She didn’t wear a gown like some of the other women in the restaurant did, but rather fancy silk pants and a dark jacket, with long dark silk gloves covering her hands. She was elegant without being fancy, in a way that seemed as though elegance came as naturally to her as breathing. Like the Bright Queen, in a way, but harsher, the way a well-crafted knife could be both beautiful and deadly to the touch.

Jester didn’t know her, didn’t recognize her on sight, but she did know that she was unquestionably beautiful. Essek has good taste in women. She thought with approval, looking the woman up and down with appreciation. Funny. I always thought he was into Caleb.

The mysterious drow woman walked up and kissed Essek on the cheek, surprising him only long enough for him to put his book away. “I hope you didn’t have to wait long,” she apologized, taking his glass of wine from the table and taking a sip. She then sat across from him, crossing her legs and delicately taking her long black gloves off of her hands. “You know how work can get.”

“Deyla,” Eseek scowled, but he didn’t look too outwardly annoyed. “How was work?”

“Less business talk at the table, don’t you think?” She waved a waiter over and ordered a glass of “whatever Essek was drinking,” crossing her long legs under the table.  “It’s been a long day.”

Essek didn’t smile, but he didn’t press her further. “How’s the Den?”

“Same as it always is. Mother is throwing a fit, but when is she not? She’s worrying about the Celebration but I keep telling her she has nothing to fret about. It will be fine, same as it’s been the last thousand years.”

Jester was going to end her spell early there; give Essek his privacy and let him enjoy his date with this mystery woman ( Deyla , it seemed) before the drow woman stopped her in her tracks, leaning across the table to squeeze Essek’s hands. “And how is my favorite little brother doing this evening?”

Oh! Of course this gorgeous woman was Essek’s sister! They had the same cheekbones and contempt! That made so much more sense than a date!  Not that Essek couldn’t date a hot girl--he totally could--but the flirting with Caleb made more sense now.

Essek sighed, letting go of his sister’s hand. “Tired, Deyla.”

“Hmph. Those humans bothering you again?”

Oh. She was talking about them. The Mighty Nein. Better stay and listen, then.

The waiter dropped off another glass of wine, this time in front of Deyla, but otherwise the two ignored him. “No, actually,” Essek laughed slightly. “They’ve been quiet for a little bit. I was actually thinking of seeing if they could help Mother, given how busy she’s been.”

Deyla took a long sip of her wine. “Mother would never allow them to help her.”

“I wasn’t going to tell her they would help. I would be more subtle about it.” Essek took a piece of bread from the bowl in the center of the table, chewing on it slightly. It looked tasty, and smelled divine. Gosh I want bread . “They owe me several favors. I was thinking that having them help Mother before the Celebration would be a good use of their talent.”

Deyla didn’t say anything. Instead, she pulled a long cigarette out of her purse, holding it out for Essek to light, which he did with a very simple flame spell. She took a long drag out of her cigarette. “Mother would rather die than accept help from humans. If she ever found out--”

“I can be subtle, Dey. I am the Shadowhand, after all--”

“But can they?” Deyla interrupted, blowing smoke his direction. “From what you’ve told me--”

“They have their talents. And they aren’t that bad, Deyla, really. They are--amusing. Talented in their own way.” He stopped, dipping his bread in a little bowl of oil. “They fought an ancient white dragon and lived, you know.”

It was nice, listening to Essek brag about them for a moment. He was usually so stiff and formal with them, it was hard for Jester to tell if he even liked them or not. I knew he liked us!

“I forget, sometimes, how young you are,” Deyla said quietly, letting her cigarette burn. “How naive. Just because they may be fearsome in combat doesn’t mean they can handle the subtleties of Den politics, you know.”

The same waiter came by and took their order, refilling their wine glasses as he went. Essek paused for a moment, taking a sip of his wine. “They are capable when they want to be. Professor Waccoh told me that they were very successful in humiliating her rival, and I believe her. I imagine if I asked them to humiliate Den Argith, for example--”

They could totally do that, Jester thought. In fact, she already had ideas, and she didn’t know who Den Argith was.

His comment didn’t seem to impress Deyla much, though. “It’s foolish and I naive to accept help from foreigners--”

“I know that! I may be young, but I’m hardly naive. I serve on the Bright Queen’s court, for the Luxon’s sake!” There was a deep purple flush to Essek’s face, and from what Jester could tell this was an old argument they were repeating.  “If anything, I sometimes wonder if you and Mother aren’t so old and stuck in your ways that you are overlooking a potential resource!”

Deyla wasn’t listening to him. “It’s that optimism and naivety that got you punished and stuck with them in the first place,” she rolled her eyes. “Tell you what. When you get to be 500 years into your second life, you can tell me all about how stuck in my ways I am. Until then, listen to your elders for once.” Gosh, but she looks good for 500! Deyla took another piece of bread from the center of the table and ripped a piece off of it, dipping it into the bowl of oil. “I’m just glad you stopped teaching their wizard dunamancy, at least.”

Essek didn’t answer her, didn’t even look at her; that was enough to cause Deyla to drop her bread instead (ruining a perfectly good piece of bread, in Jester’s opinion.)

“Oh Essek , you didn’t.” Deyla shook her head. “This is like Dantrag all over again!”

“It--it is not .” Essek defended himself, but his face was an embarrassing shade of purple. Jester immediately wanted to know who Dantrag was. “Dantrag was--was a bad judgment call. And he did prove himself, eventually.”

“After getting Den Hyluian a massive amount of favor! I swear, Essek, you are such a child sometimes! Any pretty boy with an ounce of magical talent shows up and you lose all common sense, I swear.”

“I--it’s not like that! Caleb is a talented wizard in his own right, and--”

“Oh, it’s Caleb , is it?” Deyla shook her head. “Luxon’s blessed ballsack , Essek.”

“I-- they are the Heroes of the Dynasty! They have the Bright Queen’s trust, and--”

“They are human ,” his sister snapped at him. “And that’s the only thing that matters. They’ve done the Dynasty a favor, sure, but just to save their own skin, most likely. And how long will it take them to betray us, do you think? As soon as the Empire offers them enough gold, they’ll go running back, now armed with the secrets of our people.”

Jester winced at her words. She was wrong, of course, but how was Deyla to know any differently? They couldn’t go back to the Empire; wouldn’t, actually, knowing what they do now about Caleb’s past, but how many other drow thought the same about them? How many of them saw the Nein, not as heroes, but as people just waiting for the opportune moment to betray them?

It wasn’t a good feeling.

Essek crossed her arms, shoving away from the table. “You are such a pessimist.”

“I’m a realist. And you are a schoolboy with a crush.”

Essek didn’t respond to her. Instead, he stared out the window, pointedly ignoring his sister.

It took a moment, but Deyla did eventually sigh. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just want you to be safe . You are brilliant , one of the most talented mages the Dynasty had in generations, and in your first life, no less. That’s no small accomplishment. I just don’t want you to throw it all away because you’re a sucker for a pretty face.” She reached across and squeezed his hands.

“I--no. You have a point.” Essek squeezed his sister’s hand back. “Last time I saw him, actually, he made me feel really shitty.”

Oh no. Jester thought, frowning intently. Caleb had made Essek feel shitty? Goddamnit .

“What did that bastard human do now? Because I will kill him if I need to.” Jester had no doubt that Deyla would keep that promise: she seemed like a woman who could kill someone if she needed to.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. He just--flirted more overtly because he needed something, and it made me feel kind of used. Like he knew I had a crush on him and was using that to his advantage.”

Jester winced; her own comment about “Caleb, kiss him!” probably didn’t help at all.

“I will cut him.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong.  The whole situation with the Nein last time was weird. They wanted me to teleport them to one place, then realized afterwards that they had had me teleport them to the wrong place, so I burned another spell slot to teleport them again, and then they were trying too hard to make it better, and just--it was weird. I’m kind of glad I’ve had a little break from them, to be honest, even if it has only been twenty-four hours.” He looked out the window again. “Less than, actually. I hope they succeed in whatever they were trying to do.”

That was--that was really sweet, actually. Gosh, they needed to do something nice for Essek!

“Hmm. That reminds me: Mother wants to know who you are bringing as a date to the Celebration.”

Essek’s face was flushed a dark purple; he grabbed his glass of wine and took a large drink. “I--have some ideas. Nothing set in stone, however. Nothing Mother would approve of, either.” Essek took another drink. “How soon does she need to know?”

“Hell if I know. I’ll ask her tomorrow. May I make some suggestions? T’ssandra was telling me her brother is single and--”

That was the moment when Jester’s scry spell ran out, sending her back home with the Nein.

--

“ Guys . Essek was having dinner with his sister, so I don’t think we should message him. Also, his sister is, like, super hot like Essek, but also she hates us. But Essek likes us, and he especially likes Caleb,” she elbowed Caleb in the stomach. “So I think we should do something nice for him! And I have an idea!”

“He--what? He likes --Jester, what do you mean by that? Jester?” Caleb was asking, frantically.

“Hot sister? Hot sister? ” Beau demanded. “Tell me more!”

Jester ignored both of them and kept talking. “We’re gonna go humiliate a Den!” She giggled. “Essek is planning to ask us to help his Mama out, but if we do it before he asks, just think of how grateful he’ll be! And we can prove to his Mama and sister that we aren’t evil and gonna betray the Dynasty--”

“Wait, what?”

“Go back to the whole ‘Essek likes Caleb bit’ please Jester--” Caleb tried again.

“If we do a favor for him and he didn’t ask us to, isn’t that just us needed to do another favor for him later?” Caduceus asked wisely, but packed his bags up just in case.

And then the Mighty Nein did what the Mighty Nein does best, and heisted their way into Den Argith on Essek’s behalf, and left a trail of chaos on their way out.

[akaluan]

It's not you, it's my enemies + blind date GrimmIchi or..... Starrk/Byakuya :)

Starrk scans the restaurant as the host leads him through the first room and into a second, much quieter section. He’s here because someone is a dirty, dirty blackmailer and because Lilynette gave him the puppy-dog eyes.

(He’s ever-so-slightly pissed at Kurosaki for befriending Lilynette and letting his little sisters teach her that skill.)

(As if she wasn’t dangerous enough without it.)

He was promised good food, though, and that’s enough for him. The whole ‘blind date’ is probably going to turn out poorly – already he’s getting looks because of how he looks – but he’ll be a gentleman about it. Kurosaki did tell him that this date was more about getting the other person out of their head and less about romance but–

Starrk can read between the lines. Kurosaki is worried about the other person and is using Starrk to bait a reaction. Normally he’d be able to dredge up the strength for anger at being used so, but… Kurosaki had been more worried than Starrk had ever seen the boy.

(Not even the botched summoning that drew Starrk and Lilynette into the human world and bound them there had caused such a reaction.)

(Kurosaki had been worried then, too, but this… he was nearly fretting with it this time.)

The host leads him to a table near the back, where a man in a formal kimono waits. He’s pretty, Starrk acknowledges as he takes the man in, but there’s a shadow coiled around and through the man, a darkness that resonates with Starrk’s Aspect.

(He can see why Kurosaki would be worried about this man.)

(This is a dark solitude, lonely and aching and helpless in the face of the world.)

(It makes Starrk itch, makes him want to reach out and take, and damn the promises he made to Kurosaki when he was first summoned and bound.)

He shakes the desire off and settles into the seat across from the man he’s come to meet, lounging in place despite all human propriety. Annoyance flickers across the other man’s face, before smoothing back out into polite disinterest.

“I suppose you’re the one Kurosaki-san conned into this… charade,” the man says with a tiny twitch, lips thin and shoulders rigid.

“Yeah. Call me Starrk.”

“Kuchiki Byakuya.” Kuchiki looks down at the menu in front of him, jaw clenching and fingers twitching against the heavy paper. “I apologize for the trouble.”

Starrk shrugs and glances at the menu, using it to occupy his hands to prevent him from indulging in any unfortunate impulses. “He’s worried about you, and I can see why.”

Breath hisses through Kuchiki’s teeth, and the look he levels on Starrk is cold enough to freeze better men in their seat. “He doesn’t need to worry.”

He hums and props an elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he focuses his senses on Kuchiki properly. Crushing loneliness coils around the man’s soul like a constrictor, aided by older, deeper wounds that gleam with foreign power. It’s a surprise that Kuchiki is as functional as he seems, but Starrk knows first hand the adaptability of humanity.

(Someone’s been busily trying to mold Kuchiki into a shape not his own.)

(Interesting.)

The waitress appears before Kuchiki’s frustration can rise too far – Starrk suspects the woman has experience dealing with… unfortunate dates – and Kuchiki swallows his emotions in favor of being polite. They order drinks, the woman suggests an appetizer and Kuchiki agrees, and then she strides away and leaves them to the uncomfortable silence that falls.

Starrk sighs and tilts his head just so, and is immediately rewarded with Kuchiki’s eyes widening as he spots the telltale bone circlet around the base of his neck. “Kurosaki has a right to be worried,” he repeats dryly, watching realization creep through Kuchiki’s expression.

“I’m not…” Kuchiki swallows and clenches his jaw, taking a moment to breathe while staring at the table between them. “Which one are you?”

“Solitude, isolation, loneliness. Take your pick.”

Kuchiki’s lips thin and he squeezes his eyes closed, hands settling in his lap and shoulders rigid. For a single heartbeat Starrk is able to see how shattered the man is, before he shudders and forces everything back. “I’m hardly alone,” he says, fixing Starrk with steady, empty eyes. It’s a mantra that Starrk is intimately familiar with. “My clan is large and I have a sister to care for.”

“It’s possible to be surrounded by people and still be alone,” Starrk reminds Kuchiki, ignoring the dark look that earns him. “Especially when your nature is being twisted by bindings.”

That draws Kuchiki up short. “Bindings?” he hisses, leaning forward and resting a hand atop the table, fingers splayed as he braces himself. “Explain yourself.”

“Exactly what I said.” Starrk spares a brief look at the tables around them, then leans forward and reaches out to hold Kuchiki’s hand, lacing their fingers together in a parody of intimacy.

Like this he can taste Kuchiki’s power, bent and twisted and still so very strong. He’s like one of those strange, ornamental trees that Starrk has never seen the appeal of, trained into unusual shapes and requiring constant maintenance. A single thought and the first of many tiny bindings shatters into glittering fragments that Starrk devours.

(It’s been years since he faced such a feast.)

(Ever since he devoured the final binding on Kurosaki’s soul, he’s been surviving on gifted power and the emotions given off by people succumbing to his Aspect of Death.)

Kuchiki shivers, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he looks between their intertwined fingers and Starrk’s face. “I don’t think you should do that,” he says, voice strained. “If someone’s been casting bindings on a Clan Head, then they’re confident in their ability to get away with it. If they discover who and what you are, they’ll undoubtedly retaliate.”

“Let them.” Starrk tightens his grip on Kuchiki’s hand, not that the man is trying to pull away. He shatters the next tiny binding, consuming the fragments and letting the taste linger in his mind. It’s familiar in a distant way, akin to the sense he gets of Kuchiki’s power, and that tells him all he needs to know. “You know Kurosaki’s strength. If I tell him what your own Clan has done to you–”

“What?!”

Starrk hums and gives the neighboring tables a lazy, pointed look that has the nosy humans turning away. Once he’s certain that people have stopped staring, he arches an eyebrow at Kuchiki and stares in surprise as a faint blush colors the man’s pale cheeks. “Perhaps we should save this conversation for later,” he offers when it becomes clear that Kuchiki is too embarrassed to speak. “If you truly want me to do nothing, that’s fine. But I won’t hide this from Kurosaki.”

(He owes Kurosaki too much as it is.)

(Actually… maybe Kurosaki already knew.)

(Why else would he pester a Lord of Death into a blind date with a human mage?)

Kuchiki looks away from him, head angled down and eyes on the table. He’s fighting himself, Starrk suspects, his true nature struggling against the compliant form he’s been molded into.

Starrk shatters another little binding. Devours the fragments. Watches Kuchiki’s breathing hitch.

“I won’t be able to do more than the littlest ones like this,” Starrk drawls, resting his chin in his hand again and watching Kuchiki through hooded eyes. “If you want me to free you...”

Shatter. Devour.

Shatter. Devour.

Shatter-devour-shatter-devour--

“Please,” Kuchiki breathes out, barely giving voice to the word. He glances up and fixes Starrk with a look that’s steadier than he expected. There’s a flash of stubborn pride gleaming beneath determination, and Starrk knows in that instant that, for all the Elder’s efforts, they’ve never managed to fully twist Kuchiki to their will.

“Hm. Your place or mine?”

Kuchiki’s breath catches in his throat and color dusts his cheeks once more, making Starrk arch an eyebrow in surprise. He knows they’re supposedly on a date, but he’d not expected the man to react as if they were actually courting.

(Ah, but the man is drowning in himself, isolated and alone.)

(He remembers how it felt when Kurosaki reached out to him... if the boy had been a man, he might have reacted the same.)

“Yours is probably safest,” Kuchiki decides after a moment. He draws his composure around himself like a cloak and sits straight as their waitress approaches once more. “After...?”

“That’s fine.” Starrk sits back and gives his attention to their waitress, though he doesn’t release Kuchiki’s hand.

He was promised a good meal and now he has two in front of him.

He’d be a fool to turn down either.

[cinnbar-bun]

RFA + V+ Saeran Acting As a Guardian to Teenage! MC

A/n: Have some headcanons to soothe the pain I just caused

Under the cut since it’s a long one! MC is about 16 in this one!

Also: might include some spoilers!!!

Yoosung

Finally, he wasn’t the youngest anymore! 

He was so excited to meet you and honestly he was all sunshine and rainbows as he talked about how you were like a little sibling to him

So gushing and doting, he’s more of an older sibling than a parental figure, but he still does it so well

Always brags to his guildmates he has the best sibling ever, and he will fight (and lose horribly) to anyone who tries to say otherwise

Very concerned over you since you’re so young and caught up in the RFA’s mishaps. 

So proud of anything you do, even getting out of bed makes him cheer for you

Always cooks for you, anything you want, he’ll make for you. 

He won’t admit it until he’s at his worst- when the depression and the grief from losing Rika really gets to him- but he looks up to you. He kinda gets jealous of how young and talented you are (even if you don’t think so), and wishes to become better so you have someone actually worthwhile to look up to (in his mind). 

He doesn’t seem to think that you like him, he still assumes he’s a bit of a nuisance and someone else could be better. You however, love him a lot and value his presence in your life. You don’t think you would’ve been as motivated without his help!

Sometimes he can get a bit irresponsible and you need to drag his butt to bed so he doesn’t game so much. 

Taking care of you has been a roller coaster for both of you, but he still feels a lot better since you’re here. He has cut down on his bad habits and has slowly grown from his past issues. 

If you talk about how you’re going on a date, he’ll cry. 

“Waaaaaahhhhhh!!! How are you going on dates before I am????” 

He’s supportive though, and makes sure your date actually cares for you. Probably the only one on this list you don’t have to worry about when saying you’re seeing someone

Zen

Okay so the first moment you met him on the messenger, you flipped out. 

“ZEN??? AS IN THE ZEN???? JDSFJNAJGNLSJN OH MY GOD CAN YOU STEP ON ME?????”

Jaehee also feels you but outwardly tells you to relax

He goes full on dad mode. He immediately checks himself and everyone else, anything above a ‘g’ rating and he’s flipping out. No more flirting, no more swearing, no more smoking, he’s gotta be a father figure somehow.

Once he cools down, he finds that his paternal instincts come naturally. He is very easy to talk to and is easily your biggest supporter. He wants you to feel confident in yourself and see that he’s got your back no matter what happens, something he didn’t have growing up. 

If you say you wanna act or join theater (especially if it’s because of him) he’ll just cry. He’ll sob about how his ‘child’ is the most precious thing in the world. 

He’s a straight up PTA dad afterwards, always going to your school when he can and checking up on you. 

All the mothers and teachers try to hit on him but he ignores them because his shining little star is there

He goes to all of your shows, all of your concerts, ANYTHING that involves potentially watching you do something, he is there in a second. 

After anything, whether you give a speech or a finished a performance, he’s there with a large bouquet of flowers. He’s so proud of you and he feels so enthusiastic about you. 

His narcissism drops about 200% because now he’s focused on you. His phone is full of pictures of you and your accomplishments, and after anything he makes sure to say it in the RFA messenger. 

He’s really easy to have a heart to heart with because you’re his precious little angel and he’s just as (if not more) emotional as you. 

HOWEVER!!! DO NOT!! I REPEAT!!! DO NOT MENTION DATING!!! THIS MAN WILL GO WALK UP TO WHOEVER YOU LIKE/DATING AND WILL GO INTO A FISTFIGHT WITH THEM. 

He screams when you mention guys- ‘MEN ARE WOLVES!! THEY ARE HORRIBLE!! THEY ARE DISGUSTING DO NOT EVER DATE!! YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO DATE UNTIL IM DEAD AND YOURE 80!!’

Jumin

So, let’s cut to the chase, you REEALLy liked the fact Jumin was rich. 

“Wow, so I DON’T have to starve everyday???” 

Jumin is...not the most emotional at first. He is just getting used to having to take care of you so it will be a while before he opens up. 

Jumin is great for when you want to rant or need to blow off steam. He doesn’t say anything and just listens to you. However, it’s horrible when you want emotional/physical comfort. 

He tries, he really does, but since he grew up so detached with his emotions he immediately thinks you’re dramatic. It isn’t until Jaehee (and perhaps Zen too) step in and say how he can’t keep brushing off your feelings 

So, he decides to try even harder and understand the enigma that is a teenage mind. 

It’s difficult as shit

After a while, he begins to learn all your cues and patterns, and understands what you want when you need it. He can read you like an open book now and knows when he should give you space or step in and comfort you. 

He’s actually really good at it 

He is always pampering you to the extreme. You watch tv and muse, “cool... there’s a new video game out.” and forget moments later, he immediately walks in with over a hundred games and pre-ordered, deluxe gold editions of them. 

He is the prime example of a father figure at this point, and all your friends get jealous.

He only gives you the best and will settle for nothing less. You are practically his own child at this point and like HELL is he gonna give you anything he discerns as not worthy. 

He likes taking you out for nice strolls after you beg ask for you two to hang out. You always get excited at seeing a simple cafe or mannequin with a cute outfit, and he wonders at how nice it must be to be so innocent

Plenty of outlets had contacted him about you, but he makes sure your privacy is secure. He doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or getting too personal

But they do manage to capture snippets of you two walking, and some misunderstandings have occurred due to it

“Jumin Han is dating a minor!” 

“Jumin Han has child after affair with mistress!” 

He gets fed up with the rumors and explains right away that you are NOT his lover, and you are NOT his actual child. He lies and says you were the child of a good friend of his, because explaining what actually happened would be weird

He is one of the worst when you say you’re dating someone. He will hound his security guards to watch EVERYTHING you to do, and he WILL have 707 do a background check on whoever you are going out with. 

“What are they doing?” “Uhhh...they’re eating.” “What about now?” “Still eating sir.” “Are his hands visible?” “Yes sir, he’s using them to eat a burger.” “B-burger? Where are they at?!” “McDonald’s sir...” “What kind of lousy date is this, why did (Y/n) accept this, does he think he’s good enough for my child with his peasant lifestyle???” “Sir...they’re 16????” 

All in all, he’s trying to be a good father figure and guardian that he never really had growing up. But he’s so prideful at seeing how much you mature, and even though he’s blunt sometimes, he hopes you understand he loves you a lot. 

He also tries dad jokes, but they’re so weird because obviously he rehearsed it and he says it so stoically that it makes it even funnies. 

Jaehee

Jaehee is a sweet woman, and she is like your best friend and mother rolled into one. 

She is so caring and considerate of your feelings, and is your number one supporter. 

She may seem kinda stand-offish, and kind of annoyed because she’s already incredibly busy now she has to take care of someone else and-

Whoops now she’s in the PTA and runs it like a damn boss. She is all over your studies and fights the faculty if she feels the school is not running in tip top shape. 

She gets exhausted a lot, as Jumin isn’t exactly the easiest boss to work for. 

It was kind of hard at first, sometimes she wouldn’t come home until way after midnight, and she’d see your body passed out on the couch with a note on the table about how you tried to make her dinner. 

Even though it wasn’t the best, knowing you tried so hard to stay up for her as well as cooking for her made the food taste even better than anything a five star restaurant could have made. 

So she tries to make it up to you in any way she can. She’ll pick you up your favorite movie or snack on her way home, or even little cute gifts that reminded her of you. 

She writes down any information she knows about you, and makes sure to write about your friends and teachers so she can keep up with you. 

She gushes about Zen a lot, and you were a fan too, so you both would binge watch his movies and clips of him. ANY piece of media involving Zen was devoured by you two. 

You two were constantly picking each other up and giving gifts, and when it was Jaehee’s birthday, you wrote her a letter about how much she meant to you and even got Zen to sign a poster for her! 

It was also the first time you called her ‘mom’, and even though the Zen poster is proudly hung up in her office, she can’t help but smile at how you called her that. 

She is a huge advocate of following your dreams. She does complain about how awful it is to work for Jumin sometimes, so she hopes to god you do something you love. 

You also convinced her to start her own cafe! You helped her as much as you could, and she was just...so ecstatic. 

Jaehee is easy to talk to, she is always prepared with good advice and comforting words. 

Probably the second easiest to talk to about dating. She is hesitant at first because one, you’re young and stupid, and two, she just doesn’t trust people. 

707/ Saeyoung

Okay, everyone in the RFA was hesitant to allow him to take care of you. They trusted him when it came to his work, but this was an actual human being. He could hardly take care of himself, how would he even take care of you???

Surprisingly, he’s an awesome guardian

A lot of them didn’t believe it at first and they were like ‘blink twice if he isn’t feeding you’ but you shrug and insist he’s great

He’s very nurturing and protective of you, and he sort of sees this as a second chance to make up for when he couldn’t help his brother. 

He’s really good in the fact that he’ll allow you your space to grow, but he will step in if you’re out of line or in trouble

Will NOT hesitate to ruin someone’s life if they dare hurt you. He’s got connections and the prowess and like hell is someone gonna make his child cry. 

Saeyoung is still as corny and crazy as he is in the chatroom, but in these instances with you, he means it a lot. He does anything he can to make you smile, even if it means he’d get hurt. 

He is a lot calmer though with you, and his parental instincts kick in a lot more. The RFA was shocked to see him actually change some of his poor quality of life skills as a means to be a better guardian to you. 

When he needs to go on a mission, he entrusts Jumin or Vanderwood to take care of you. 

He never tells you about those dangerous missions, he only says he’s going to be at a conference out of the country. 

He always makes sure to get you a souvenir or gift when he comes back from those trips. 

Joy rides in his cars!! He loves to take you to the beach or sightseeing whenever he can. 

He stills eats poorly, but it really makes him melt when you offer him some dinner you cooked for him. He started screaming and Yoosung (who was on the other end of the phone call) felt his ears bleed. 

He gets so excited for your cooking, like he stops his work just to take a bite of your grub. 

He hacks to get movies that weren’t even released to the public yet so you both could watch it on your downtime. He’s a hardcore softie though and you still have yet to see him shut up or not sob all over you as you two watch. 

“You’re getting snot on me!!!” “I’M sorry it’s just....oh my god how could this even happen??????” 

You accidentally called him ‘dad’ one time and he lost it. He was jumping for joy and hugging you in a death grip, screaming, “IM A FATHER!!!!!” 

Oh and he will definitely not pass up the opportunity to make some Star Wars references. 

You can’t hide anything from him. He tries to not be snoopy but holy shit you did not know just how far he’d go when it came to keeping tabs on you. 

By the time he was done he knew the name of your first grade crush, an incident where you kicked your own self, and how old you were when you got your first cavity. 

Likewise, he will already know if you’re crushing/dating someone. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know, but secretly do a background check. 

OKay so this definitely happened on your first date out with your crush, you two went out for milkshakes when your phone started sounding like Saeyoung’s voice. 

“HEY YOUNG MAN BOTH HANDS ON THE TABLE NOW!!!” 

You both started SCREAMING and had to be told to shut up by the staff because what the hell, your phone was talking! 

You screamed at him later on to mind his damn business

And god help whoever you were dating if they hurt you. 

This man will go ballistic and start hacking their things like a crazy psycho

“DONT WORRY, GOD SEVEN WILL FIX THIS!!!!” 

But seriously, this man adores you to the bottom of his heart. He’s made many mistakes in the past, but you will sure as hell not be another one of them. Anything you ask of him, he’ll gladly do!

V

V is a great guardian for those who don’t like pressure or stress. He’s so soothing and relaxing.

Hardly will ever raise his voice at you, and he practically never gets angry at you

He can’t see that well, but he seems to have a sixth sense that just makes him know where you are and when you are in danger. 

He likes taking you out to more scenic ventures, maybe even get you into photography as well!!

He has so many pictures of you, you are like his favorite subject

He even made an exhibit just based on you, and after that, he got a lot of calls about who you were. He made sure they know that you are basically his child

He feels incredibly guilty you had to go through this whole mess. He really wishes nothing bad would happen and you just didn’t have to get involved, but you always encourage him and say you don’t mind, you met him because of it!

He melts and cries a bit later on

If you call him ‘dad’ he gets so happy, like he finally feels like he actually did something right for once

But occasionally he doubts himself and can get kinda stand-offish in fear of how he might hurt you later on

He doesn’t make the same mistakes this time, and he makes sure you can get the help you need. He’s not gonna allow you to hurt yourself or others, and he won’t enable negative behaviors. 

He doesn’t talk about Rika to you. That was one of the worst moments in his life, and he thinks you’ll hate him because of it. 

You don’t- and he wonders what he did to deserve you

V is not an idiot. He may be partially blind but oh honey, he WILL know if you are dating someone. Don’t ask how, he does. 

He’s chill about it, but makes sure you understand what you are getting into. He’ll sit you down and start questioning you or your date’s intentions

It’s a side effect from his past with Rika, he doesn’t want you hurt, nor does he want you to hurt someone else. 

He makes you have clear and concise boundaries

He’ll let you do as you please, just please, for everything holy in this world, let him know where you are and be back before 10. 

If you get into a bad breakup he’s there to comfort you but also calls 707 to use his special skillset

I feel like V would use a lot of dad jokes. Like he doesn’t even know where it comes from and he’ll just say one, and 707 flips out.

Overall, just a calm dude who really loves you a lot. You’re allowed to grow and be your own person, but within some boundaries. He’ll stop at nothing to keep your smile. 

Unknown/ Saeran

Okay so... he feels weird. You’re a child. A damn child. 

He gets very conflicted because he gets flashbacks of how he was taken at a young age

He starts off as incredibly scary, staring you down to make you fear for your life, but you notice right away he’s become...softer

If anything, now he feels guilty. You were nice to him, even though he did all these things to you...

Saeran becomes a guard dog to you, watching over you like a hawk. 

As thanks, sometimes you would make him sweets

He loves them a lot, they’re now his favorite things

Pretty soon, a friendship begins to form, and then a feeling of guardianship over you. 

He’s noticeably a lot nicer and softer to you, he’ll be cussing out his brother in one moment but then if you ask him for something, he’ll stop and bend down to your level and answer you. 

Saeyoung finds this incredibly hilarious and nice

Saeran feels a lot better having you around. He feels a lot safer and happier, and knowing that you are safe and happy makes him even more excited. 

He likes gardens, so he takes you to them a lot, and he even decided to start one with you

On special days, or days when you are feeling down, he’ll get you a special bouquet of flowers with different meanings to cheer you up!

Baking is also a special hobby between you two. Sweets in general are where you two bond, so occasionally you two go out and try different sweet shops, cafes, or parlors. 

You two always rank your fave desserts and places

Do not, I repeat, do NOT tell him about/mention/ or even THINK of dating. He’ll probably beat the crap out of whoever you’re dating because, ‘they are not worth it’

Very strict and will throw hands with anyone checking you out- he’s like an angry dog 

Oh dear, if your date makes you sad or upset they will be dead. Saeran will take no shit if they made you frown, and they better start praying for their safety. 

You and Saeyoung have to hold him back before he murders your date

He still has his anxious moments where his past may catch up and he’ll freak out, but you are one of the few that can easily coax him out of it. He’d never hurt you at all

If you refer to him as ‘dad’ I think he might feel his heart flutter but also feel nervous...what if he becomes like his dad? What if he hurts you or can’t protect you? 

He’ll definitely teach you self-defense but Saeyoung will step in when he tries to teach you how to use a pistol because ‘SAERAN THEY’RE 16, DO NOT DO THAT!!!!’ 

He has his days when he’s more lax about you, but also has days when he’s breathing down your neck

It’ll take him a long time to be considered a ‘good’ guardian, please be patient, and gently let him know how he should improve. 

He’s not good at dealing with your emotions. All he knows how to do is punch whatever made you feel sad, but he quickly learns he can’t do that, and takes advice from all the RFA to help you. 

You can fight me but he probably has bought some guidebooks or pamphlets to try and learn to take care of you, and he’s LOST. 

“So to comfort them, I hug them...then ask how they’re feeling? Okay, but then it says they might want space? So how do I know? IT DOESN’T EVEN SAY WHEN! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT A WASTE OF MY DAMN MONEY!” He chucks it across the room before promptly picking it up and trying to read it again

He sees a lot of shows and tries to do stereotypical ‘family’ things, but quickly realizes that neither of you are enjoying it and he breathes a sigh of relief because holy hell that made him so uncomfortable. 

You both are pretty blunt with what you feel so you’re both on the same page, and try to work it accordingly. 

Okay on occasion he’s got you outfits that are similar to his so you both can match and he loves it so much

The most awkward dad jokes. EVER. You’ll be like, ‘hey I’m hungry’, and he’ll remember that he read on a parenting website that dad jokes make your connection stronger or something, so he’ll murmur, ‘hi hungry, I’m dad’. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because he was in physical pain after saying that. 

You both got a lot to work on, but he tries. Really. And he’s so happy he met you, and he’ll make sure you grow up with a better childhood than he did. Nothing is too big or too small for him to do. 

[trysomecats]

Caught in a Web Part 5

Summary: Dan was offered to join Willow Grove Academy, Britain’s most prestigious and renowned private school, on a full scholarship. All of the other students are rich, unlike Dan who comes from a modern lower class society. Things become complicated when he lies about his background to Phil Lester, the most popular and richest boy in the school.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The confession happened before the food had even arrived. They were at a small Italian restaurant with prices that were thankfully affordable. Dan viewed it as a small victory, considering that Phil was going to hate his guts when he revealed the fact that he was nothing but a pathetic liar.

Dan had initially planned on confessing before they even went inside the restaurant, but it was hard to interrupt Phil’s bright eyes and cheerful babbling. It was only after they had sat down at their table and ordered drinks when he spoke the truth.

“-and we can go on vacation together when our next school breaks comes around. I figured the four of us could go somewhere new, an adventure, you know? There’s this place in America called Roswell - it’s in New Mexico I think - and there’s this conspiracy theory that aliens landed there one time. And it got me thinking that we could go there and, well, who knows, maybe-”

“I lied.”

“What’s that?” Phil asked, eyes still crinkled with happiness as he sipped his cider.

Dan’s mouth was dry. Despite this, once he began speaking, it was impossible to stop. He was a fly making his last stand before the spider came to kill him. Everything came pouring out, right there in the middle of the most expensive dinner he had ever eaten, with the first boy he had ever loved.

“I lied,” he repeated. “I lied about everything. My dad doesn’t work in India, he works in a shitty cubicle copying papers all day. I was never homeschooled, I went to public school instead. The headmaster at Willow Grove was feeling charitable and gave me a full scholarship to attend. I don’t have any money to my name, most of my clothes and games are second-hand. I’ve lied about everything, Phil, everything...”

‘I lied because I was scared you’d judge me,’ were Dan’s unspoken thoughts. ‘I lied because you were the first people besides Louis who talked to me, and I never had any friends before you, Pj, and Chris.’

Phil was staring at him, his mouth open. All traces of happiness were gone and replaced by obvious shock and anger. His eyes, usually so beautiful and blue, were wide and glinted darker than usual.

“I’m really sorry,” Dan spoke, when the silence became suffocating. He felt like he was going to vomit.

“I’d like for you to leave,” Phil finally spoke. His voice was so soft, but it sounded as if he struggled to get the words out. It was as if he were seething with anger on the inside, but trying desperately to keep calm on the outside. “I’d like for you to leave right now.”

Dan didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved his chair back and stood up quickly, knocking over his glass of sparkling cider. The waiter rushed over to help with the spill, but Dan only pushed passed him. People from nearby tables shot him glares as he ran through the restaurant and created disturbance, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He left without turning back, so that Phil wouldn’t see the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Somehow, word had got around by the time Dan went back to school the next day. He arrived at the very last minute, when the bell had already rung. There was no use coming early, because he knew that Phil would never talk to him again, and neither PJ nor Chris either. Oh God, he dreaded having to face Chris, who was easily the most tempered out of the trio.

Louise was one of the first people to give him an icy glare when he walked into French class.

“I guess I was wrong about you this whole time,” She spoke loud enough for the whole class to hear.

“I guess you were,” Dan found his words, but he didn’t dare look at her. His heart was pounding fast, and it took all of his willpower to remain seated rather than leaving the classroom.

Louise wasn’t done with him.

“You might not be rich, but you’re just as greedy and snotty as everyone else in this school! I didn’t take you as the kind of guy to use someone for their money. I mean, do you even have anything to say?”

“No,” Dan told her, his throat too tight. His hands clenched his pen tightly, and tears were pooling in his eyes once again. Before coming to school today he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t cry, but evidently that was not going to happen. “No, I don’t have anything to say Louise, so just don’t talk to me.”

She gladly took him up on that offer for the rest of French class, as well as Arithmetic too. In fact not one person offered him any sort of greeting. Joe made brief eye contact with him, but it wasn’t friendly, and Zoe didn’t look at him even once.

It took Dan a great amount of courage to step into his Advanced Literature classroom, and when he did, he immediately regretted it. His usual spot, the one next to Phil, was taken by another student who Dan recognized as Anthony Padilla. Phil didn’t even spare a glance at Dan, talking with Anthony as if he always sat there.

Dan’s face felt hot as he hurried to an empty seat in the back of the room. Phil might have not been looking at him, but the rest of the class certainly was. The entire school had obviously known by now about his lie.

But there was nothing more he could do; Dan knew that he had been slowly digging his own grave at Willow Academy from the very start. In a way, he had known from the beginning that sooner or later his life here would end in disaster.

Dan made it three days before everything became too much for him to handle. In his old school he had been used to being ignored, but this was a lot different. People who used to talk to him on a regular basis now either gave him the cold shoulder or blatant scorching glares.

After hours and hours of pleading with his mother, she had agreed to set up a meeting with the headmaster to discuss his transferring back to public school, but she wasn’t happy about it in the least.

Now he would be looked down upon in school and at home.

When lunchtime on Wednesday rolled around, he skipped it yet again to hide in the library. There was no way he could possibly eat; his stomach had felt too tight and uneasy every since PJ has discovered his secret.

His thoughts lingered back to the conversation he’d had with his mother this morning.

“This could completely change your future Dan,” She’d said with a shake of her head. “I hope you know what a wasted opportunity this will have been. And you won’t even tell me why! I was under the impression that you were coming to like Willow Grove....”

His breath felt too short as he thought about how badly he’d messed up. The look of pure disappointment on Phil’s face was impossible to forget about. Dan had been the cause of it….

Because that’s what he was, a disappointment. If he knew how to talk to people, or was smart of good looking, or had something to counter against his awkward, pathetic personality, then maybe things would be different. Maybe he would have been able to befriend Phil without having to lie. There were so many opportunities to confess early on, before the web had grown too big. But he had wasted those opportunities, and now the web was wound tightly across his throat, choking him.

Dan realized that he wasn’t in the library anymore. His feet were taking him down the winding hallways, so he could be somewhere alone, somewhere where he could hide forever…

His breath was still short as he reached the bathroom, and as soon as he reached a stall his stomach lurched. He heaved his meager breakfast into the toilet, over and over again until there was nothing left to come up, not even caring that the door was still wide open.

He felt shaky and his heartbeat was thunderous.

He wanted to be anywhere rather than here, but home was almost just as bad, and there was no safe place to go. His only comforts were Phil, Chris, and PJ, but he didn’t have them anymore, and now he couldn’t breathe.

An immeasurable amount of time passed before Dan became aware that someone was speaking to him.

“Dan? Hey- what’s the matter?”

“C-Cant-,” Dan struggled to find his voice, the dizziness becoming overwhelming at this point in time. “Can’t breathe, I-”

His stomach twisted again and he was back to dry heaving. His knuckles were white as they gripped the porcelain. There were black dots interfering with his vision, mingled with the hot tears that had built up in his eyes.

“Try to take some deep breaths Dan,” Chris encouraged, but his voice was distant and Dan could hardly focus on it. The voice became sharper and more desperate.  “Dan! Come on, you have to breathe!”

It was easier said than done.

“Fuck,” Chris was swearing, and Dan realized that he had collapsed onto his knees.

It took several minutes, but Dan managed to evade passing out. As soon as his breathing was back to normal, Chris took him by the arm and led him outside the school before he could protest.

Dan was completely silent during the whole ride to Chris’ house, and the other boy didn’t say anything to him. When they finally got inside, the mansion big and empty and unbearable, Chris sat him down on a sofa worth more than Dan’s house and handed him a bottle of water.

“Drink it,” Chris demanded, watching with sharp attentiveness until Dan had taken several gulps of the clear and refreshing liquid. Chris, meanwhile, had taken a seat next to him.

“Jesus, just look at you. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

Dan spared him a response, because they both knew the answer to that one.

“You have to give me some answers Dan,” Chris finally said. “We both know that you didn’t lie to take advantage of us.”

What?

Dan looked up at Chris in confusion. “H-How do you know that?”

“Well, obviously I was pissed as fuck when Phil and PJ told me the truth about you. But then when I calmed down, I got to thinking about things. You never once asked for...well, anything. If you were really just friends with us for our wealth, surely you would have tried to get some, yeah?”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Dan finally muttered after a moment of silence. “I lied, and that’s the real problem here.”

“It matters to me,” Chris said, folding his arms. “I want an answer, Dan.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Dan began to feel desperate for some sort of way out of this. “I mean, I don’t even know why I did it! I was an idiot, okay? I’d never been to such a fancy school before, with chandeliers and school lunches too expensive to afford! I didn’t have any friends in my old school, so I certainly didn’t expect to have friends at Willow Grove! When you guys actually started talking to me, poor insignificant me, I panicked! Does that answer your fucking question? Does it!?”

“Yeah,” Chris said sharply. “It does! Dan, you need to talk to Phil about this as soon as possible.”

“What are you talking about? Phil doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I completely understand why!”

“No Dan, you don’t get it. Phil loves you!” Christ took a hold of his shirt collar. “I don’t understand why you’re just letting everyone assume that you were after our money!”

Dan pulled away from him. “What’s the point of trying to explain? I lied!”

“But you didn’t lie to hurt us; you didn’t lie to hurt Phil!”

“It doesn’t matter Chris! The whole point is that I wasn’t honest with Phil, or any of you! I have a meeting with the headmaster tomorrow, so I can make arrangements to go back to my old school.”

“You can’t do that. Dan, you have to talk to Phil!”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” Chris said, gripping Dan’s sleeve so he couldn’t rise. “Besides, you have to whether you want to or not. I called him and told him about your panic attack, and he’s on his way now.”

i’m sorry for taking SEVERAL YEARS to update. If there’s anyone left who still remembers this ol’ fic, then you have my gratitude as well as my sincerest apologies! 

[shieldhearted-blog]

♫ five times my muse swears it’s not a date, and the one time it maybe is. [[omg pre-war? if that works?]]

♫  five times my muse swears it’s not a date, and the one time it maybe is. (  tw ; minor knife-injury, blood ment in [ i ]  )

[ i ]

So maybe it isn’t the most practical idea, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. 

It’d started with Steve’s mom insisting that she teach Steve to cook, something he readily agreed to — and even more readily agreed when she suggested that he invite Bucky over, too. Everyone needed to know how to cook; Sometimes, she said, wives need a break. You need to know how to help them out and let them rest, honey.

She repeated this sentiment on Bucky’s first time joining them, and he immediately hid a laugh, whispering to Steve, Does it count as you giving her a break if you don’t have one?, for which he immediately got an elbow in the ribs. 

( Not that it hurt. Steve knew it wouldn’t; he’d put some force behind it, but Buck probably didn’t even feel it underneath his clothes. )  

They both learned a lot from her, and it was Steve who suggested that they try it alone — that is, alone, together; just without her supervision. So she left out her supplies, a vague handwritten recipe, and instructed them to produce the best apple pie they possibly could and, with the enthusiasm and confidence of 14- and 15-year-old boys, they set out to do just that.

That’s how it began. It quickly develops into a flour-throwing match, which Bucky definitely won. Steve argues that there are no real winners in a flour-throwing match, though, and Bucky tells him he’s only saying that because he lost. Steve throws more flour at him. 

They do get back to the recipe eventually; Steve pulls Bucky back over to the counter where they’re desperately trying ( and failing ) to make a pie crust, and they have about half the apples cut up. Steve bumps into Bucky continually as the two of them try to use the small counter space effectively, leading to a small shoving battle that is quickly stopped when Bucky nicks his finger. 

Steve wastes no time rushing to get their dingy first-aid kit: a few bandages and gauze on a good day. Mumbling admonishments under his breath about how Bucky needs to be more careful under his breath, Steve dabs at the small injury, wiping off the tiny amount of blood that’s welled up before carefully applying a bandage. 

It’s hardly even visible, calm down, Bucky mutters, as though any injury on Bucky isn’t a cause for concern. 

You calm down and just let me do this, Steve says. We take care of each other, okay? I don’t care if you say you’re fine. Just...let me do this, he repeats lowly. 

Bucky quiets down, and with the cut taken care of, they return to work; now much more conscientious. 

A couple hours later, the pie has turned out...Steve’s not sure how exactly it turned out, but, well, it sure...is out. Of the oven. And it sure...is visible. To their eyes. And it...it doesn’t exactly look like a pie, but, well, that’s... that’s okay. 

Steve’s mom returns to check on the finished product, voices the fact that it looks terrible, and then, in the same breath, congratulates the two of them on doing such a good job. The pie does taste rather good, after all. 

Steve’s mom makes a comment that her first date was baking with a boy she liked and Steve’s heart jumps in his chest. He and Buck obviously hadn’t done something like that but the idea is still.... It makes him happy. For some reason.

[ ii ]

Sneaking into the theatre isn’t something Steve wants to make a habit of, but, well, Bucky’s right — they deserve a night out, after how rough the past few days have been. So what if it involves just a little law-breaking?, Bucky argues. That honestly makes it more fun.

( Part of Steve agrees, but he’s not going to admit that. )

They sneak in to the high-class theatre, shoulders back, trying to look like they belong, and sit at the very back, hoping no one will notice that two teenagers who definitely shouldn’t be there were huddled close together, practically sharing a chair, watching the stage with wide eyes. 

It’s a musical — something Steve is cagey about admitting he likes, but of course Bucky knows. What doesn’t Bucky know? So when they sneak in and the orchestra begins playing, Steve grips Bucky’s arm tightly to show appreciation. Steve rarely speaks during movies, let alone live performances, but Bucky doesn’t have the same qualms; he’s just quiet about it.

The first thing Bucky says is, Worth it, wasn’t it?, leaning in close and ghosting the words over Steve ear, and Steve nods, not sure why he has goosebumps when it’s not even cold. 

Bucky continues making soft comments for Steve’s enjoyment only, and it’s nicer than it should be, considering he’s talking during a musical; Steve can’t but help love it. He loves the additions, how clever and well-timed they are, how quick Bucky is to pick up on plot lines and foreshadowing. And they’re still close, so close, and Steve doesn’t know how to ask or even properly think about it, but he wants Bucky to wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep whispering to him. In the dim, barely-there light that’s covering the audience, Steve wants Bucky to hold him ( or the other way around; he’s not sure; he’s not picky either way ) —

He’s not sure why he keeps thinking things like this. He knows, knows that if he were someone else then this would be intimate and — and romantic, but it’s not with him. It never has been. It’s not even close. 

He ignores the pang of disappointment when the musical ends and Bucky pulls away. They slip out of the theatre, and in the afternoon sunlight, Steve thinks it’s okay to think weird things, sometimes; as long as he ignores them.  

[ iii ]

They need to get out of the city. 

Not forever, not even for a long time, but Steve can tell how the constant bustle of the city is starting to harshly affect a very sickly Bucky. And when Steve’s Come on, follow me, is met with Bucky trailing behind him quickly, with comment but without question, Steve can’t help but wonder where, exactly, Bucky thinks they’re going. 

They walk slowly through backstreets and alleys, finally making their way out to the edge of the city, houses getting dingier as they near an almost-rural area. Bucky looks around — Steve thinks he knows where they are, or whereabouts, but not where they’re heading. And they make it to that destination without incident, thankfully, and Bucky lets out a long, deep breath and plops down at the edge of the creek — now, at least, he knows where they are.

It’s tiny; pitiful, really. The creek in front of them is a yard across as its longest point, easily able to be hopped at practically any location. But the water is clear and the sounds it makes are soothing. 

How long has it been? Bucky asks, and Steve shrugs, because the answer is too long but he’s not sure how to say that without making himself feel like he’s neglected something important. 

He doesn’t know when they found this place; he knows that one time when they were younger, Bucky ran; he started running from everything and Steve followed him here and tackled him in this creek, and they were both soaked and cold and out of breath and Bucky was frustrated and Steve was determined, and Bucky said Why won’t you let me go? and Steve said You can’t make me leave you, and Bucky wouldn’t look at him.

( Maybe that was when things changed from we’ve got each other to we’ll always have each other and nothing you do will change that, which should have been a bigger deal than it was; But they were young and forever seemed so easy; And even now Steve can’t bring himself to regret that sentiment; He still wants a forever and in the quiet of the world broken by the babbling of the creek, forever seems easy again. )

Steve sits down next to Bucky, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to hold Bucky’s, or wrap an arm around his waist; he settles for throwing one over Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky leans in closer to Steve and after a few minutes, his weight is heavier, and Steve realizes he fell asleep. 

Steve doesn’t move to wake him, but he does move to make him more comfortable. 

Bucky was sick and tired; needed a break. Steve thinks he was able to do that. He hopes he’ll always be able to make Bucky calm down and feel better. 

( He can’t think of a time when he possibly couldn’t. )

[ iv ]

It isn’t that Steve’s exactly keen to sit-in on a date with Bucky and a cute girl, but it’s his job as Best Friend to be there to support Buck through anything, and that includes sitting at a nearby table while Bucky has a date. For, you know, moral support. That’s normal, right? 

So here he is, sitting at a booth and drinking a coffee while picking at his appetizer in a restaurant that is much too expensive for him to be in under normal circumstances. Bucky is sitting at a nearby table, his hands folded politely in his lap, leg bouncing rapidly, sweating almost as much as his class of water. 

Steve couldn’t help but wonder what’d gotten Buck so worked up — or rather, who. Bucky hadn’t told him very much about the mystery girl, so Steve is left to wonder. 

Maybe she was much older than them, well past her 20s; maybe she was remarkably beautiful, breathtaking; maybe she was incredibly intelligent and well-educated; maybe she was —

A sigh pulls him out of his thoughts, and Steve looks over at the table, where the rhythm of Bucky’s bouncing leg has increased to its maximum tempo. Steve’s eyes flick up to the clock. 

She’s late. Like, really late. Bucky had said she’d be there around 5:15, and it’s closing in on 6. 

Bucky’s leg starts bouncing faster than it ever has, and Steve breaks.

He stands up, grabs his coffee, and plops down at the couples’ table across from Bucky, who looks up at him with wide, still-nervous eyes, and says, Alright, if this mystery lady isn’t gonna take this spot, then I will. What do you wanna order?

And something about it is so casual, natural, normal; but at the same time significant, important, heavy; and Steve can’t ignore it. Especially not when Bucky is looking at him like — like this is good, like it’s great, like he’s done something so right and wonderful. Like he’s wonderful. But he manages to focus on light conversation, on eating food and picking bits off the other’s plate; normal stuff. 

( He stoutly ignores the way his heart pounds against his chest, like he’s doing something more than what he’d intended; like he’s doing something — something — )

It’s just normal, right? This is normal. This is good. This doesn’t have to be anything serious.

When they get the check, Steve goes to pay, and Bucky grabs his wrist. Hey, I’m the one who was saving up to pay here. Let me, okay?, and Steve can’t imagine Bucky being here with anyone else and he desperately doesn’t want to, but he nods.  

He bites back what he wants to say. 

( As long as you let me pay next time. )

[ v ]

Movie night’s always a good night, and this time is no exception. But it’s good for a different reason than usual. 

When Steve thinks about his favorite parts, he thinks of the way Bucky would lean closer to him. When he thinks about what parts gave him goosebumps, it’s Bucky gripping his leg in excitement as something intense happens on-screen. His overall favorite part is easily when Bucky threw back his head and laughed, loud and genuinely lost in the moment, even if that moment only lasted a few seconds before he was back to holding himself upright and his amusement had to be regulated to a much more manageable smirk. 

Yeah, well, what was your least favorite bit? Bucky asks when they’re walking home together, and that’s easy.

When it ended. ( Bucky laughs at that, too. )

They make their way up to Bucky’s place, and Steve can’t help but think that if he and Bucky didn’t know each other like they do, if Bucky were a girl Steve had met before the show and bought movie tickets for — then it would be normal, entirely expected for him to lean over and grab Bucky’s hand and pull it up to his lips and gently ghost his breath over his knuckles with a word or two about how Steve’d had a wonderful evening, and he hopes they can go out again soon. 

But it’s not going out — Well, sure, they’re out together, but — it’s not  going out  when it’s him and Buck; no matter how much his thoughts are telling him he should do something that’s entirely inappropriate. 

Bucky isn’t exactly helping, either, as he gives Steve a little half-bow when they get to his door and jokingly says, I had a wonderful time, sir, his voice high and his lips pulled up in a smile. 

( Kiss him kiss him kiss him — )

Steve laughs and hits Bucky’s shoulder. Get some sleep.

( This isn’t anything serious. So why does he feel so alone when Bucky turns around? )

[ vi ]

Walking together, window-shopping in New York in early December is a popular pastime for couples. Or, for those who aren’t couples:  ‘‘ Pairs wherein one half desperately wishes the other would give him a sign that their friendship is more than that, is so much more serious than what people think it is; and that he’s not making things up, that this can actually be something more than what they act like it is, right? ’’

The two of them are staring at the insides of shops that they don’t have a reason to enter, looking at things that are too expensive to be in a local boutique and things that are too useless to be priced so high.

The air is filled with swirling, small snowflakes; not nearly enough to be a cause for dread, as anyone could easily tell these flurries won’t stick on the roads, but enough to make everything feel oddly scenic. Bucky is walking a bit ahead of Steve, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, occasionally throwing back comments about what they’re seeing.

Bucky thinks the sun dresses they’re seeing across the street are an affront to nature. You’re tempting it, he says, falling back closer to Steve, walking in time with him. You’re counting on the sun coming back. Now, it’s gonna be winter forever out of spite.

I don’t think that’s how seasons work.

Yeah, yeah, we get it, you believe that the clouds aren’t secretly listening to all our conversations. But where’s the fun in that, Steve?

I prefer to call it realism. 

Boring’s what it is. Imagine being up there, looking down. It’s like having your own personal movie going on all the time. 

Sounds like a pretty boring movie. 

Yeah, well, we could make it more interesting for them.

Oh?

Mm-hmm. Just confess your undying love for me. 

...

Come on, it’s a neat plot-twist.

Really, now?

Well, not too much of a plot-twist. We are in the perfect environment for a proposal. But...just enough elements are here to make it unlikely, but not impossible. The perfect plot-twist. No one will see it coming. 

I’d hope so, considering it’s not like we’re on a date, Buck.

( He wishes he didn’t have to say that. )

Bucky wiggles his eyebrows in a way that rides a fine line between I’m leaning into a joke and I want you to take this seriously. Steve can only huff and shake his head, not sure if he trusts himself to speak; and then Bucky reaches out his hand, grabs Steve’s in a manner that’s too hurried and worried to be entirely brushed off as a joke, and Steve wants to ask Bucky what the hell he’s doing ( and why hasn’t he done it any sooner ) —

But he doesn’t; doesn’t ask what this is, what they’re doing; doesn’t question if this is really a good idea or if they should stop right now; he doesn’t ask. 

He just runs his thumb over the back of Bucky’s hand and feels his pulse fluttering beneath his palm, and he doesn’t say anything about it. 

( He’s still pretty sure it’s a date. )

@facemypast​. [ Send me a symbol. ] Accepting.

[hwarangbangbang]

bambam » tteokbokki & a hot shower

i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on Tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or gifs, however i do take credit for writing these stories.

mark | jaebum | jinyoung | jackson | youngjae | bambam | yugyeom

title - tteokbokki & a hot shower prompt - “you’re severely depressed these days and i’m too scared to leave you alone so yes this is the only solution please accept my hugs.” pairing - kunpimook bhuwakul/em!reader tags: depression, friends-to-lovers, tears, lots of tears, angST??, you as a waitress, your boss was an asshole tbh, but not the point, first kiss, bed sharing word count - 2,748 words author’s note - i personally, have never experienced depression –  i hope i don’t offend anyone… ALSO IM ALMOST 100% CERTAIN BAMBAM’S FAMILY MEMBERS ARE FINE I JUST NEEDED ANGST ok enjoy also sorry if it’s BAD

There were a few signs you’d caught on to before you finally decided your best friend was depressed. To be honest, you were surprised. He was such a happy person – such a bright soul, always bouncing around everywhere with such excitement and energy. And he still was that way after you realized how deep he was in everything.

You noticed he stopped showing up on time to practice – that he had a harder time than normal to get down the steps for the routines.

You noticed he began to slip up on his language skills; something he’d been working so hard on, almost to the point where you’d have to repeat yourself twelve times to get him to focus and understand what you’d really said.

You noticed he wore the same shirt and pants, and even socks, to practice for two weeks straight – and you knew it didn’t have anything to do with the washer and dryer at the dorms because the other members had no problems.

You noticed he began to distance himself, only a little bit because he didn’t want to worry the other members, from everyone else. That he found himself quieter among group dinners and V-Live’s.

Unless he was with his members in public where he knew photos were going to be taken, he hardly ever smiled.

These were only a few of the signs, but you knew them.

It was hard to believe that the most lively member of GOT7, BamBam, had depression. But the final straw was when you actually went to the dorms to confront him about it. Everyone was worried about him, and given that you were able to get through to him better than Yugyeom, it was up to you to talk to him. “Please, (Y/N), talk some sense into him.” Jaebum said from the receiver of the phone as you rode the subway to their dorm, his voice echoing in your ear drums.

“Jaebum, not everything is that easy as ‘having a talk.’ You have to approach this type of situation as if you were approaching a live bomb. You have to be gentle and work carefully to resolve the problem.” You retorted, not worrying about the volume of your voice because of how empty the car of the subway was.

The story of how you came across being friends with GOT7 was sort of a whirlwind, if you will. You were minding your own business, waiting tables in a less-than-busy restaurant when you heard the sounds of loud, booming voices enter. You had looked over, only to find those voices belonging to the members of GOT7, whom to you were nothing but a K-pop idol group you saw on T.V. and heard on the radio. You weren’t a big fan at the time, and took them as normal, writing down their orders, giving them their drinks – the things a normal waitress would.

However, things were going particularly horrible that night – your boss, who scared the hell out of you by the way, decided to make a surprise visit and it was throwing you off your game. You so far had dropped four full plates of food, and managed to spill blistering hot coffee down your arms and front apron because you were so nervous. You had probably about 3,000 won in tips – as opposed to your normal shift at maybe 50-60,000 won – and were ready to quit.

You had brought them their drinks, and thankfully hadn’t spilled anything so far. On your way out, however, you heard a small, 'excuse me’ come from the table. You had looked behind your shoulder, turning and giving the most muscular member your full attention, and he looked down at his drink before looking at you. “I think I forgot to order this right,” he began, “I forgot to order it with your phone number.“ Mind you, he said all this in English, which caused a small laugh to leave you, along with a small eye-roll at the attempt of a pick-up.

You’d find out his name was Jackson – and he was like that with every pretty face he saw. You had conversed with the group, making small talk and letting go from your daily stress, almost for too long before you heard the familiar voice of your head cook’s shouting out the order, and asking why you hadn’t picked it up yet. This caught your boss’ attention.

Immediately he began yelling at you, about the other customers (mind you, it was nearly 11 PM and there were maybe two other tables you had – all of which had their food) and about how careless you were being. He had shouted about how he knew it was a bad idea to hire a foreigner, before ever so easily firing you. On the spot. In front of everyone.

You’d left the restaurant, throwing your apron at your boss, and storming off home. It wasn’t until maybe four days later, while job hunting, you found an ad looking for a secretary. It seemed simple enough, you had enough experience with keeping things organized and in order with working at the restaurant.

Little did you know, this job as a secretary would be for the one and only JYP himself, the owner, operator, and creator of JYP Entertainment. You had showed up the first day of work only to see the faces of those boys you’d served in the restaurant. They were surprised to see you, and were happy to see you again after that awful situation.

You grew to be great friends with them, especially the group’s second youngest – Thailand’s one and only, Kunpimook Bhuwakul.

You and him did everything together; he would help you with your Korean mishaps, he would show you top secret choreography routines, and would treat you to meals out with the group. He was sweet, and treated you like his best friend.

Which Yugyeom was low-key offended about in the beginning.

But he got over it.

But back to the present.

“We just want him to be okay again. We want him to be back to the way he was before.” Jaebum stated and you sighed, walking off of the subway car as it was your stop, and you walked out and up to the street, the familiar scenery of convenience stores and coffee shops catching your eye in the street lights and reflections of the car head beams.

“Depression can’t be cured overnight, Jaebummie. But I can promise you I can try my best. I’m hanging up now,  I’m here.”

“We’re all counting on you, (Y/N), please take care of him.” Was what you caught before he ended the call and you stood before the dorm, breathing in the cold air of the fall season.

You walked up to the door and knocked a few times before the door was answered. It was BamBam, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, his face puffy from what looked like crying. It broke your heart to look at, and you curled your arms around yourself as to keep yourself calm and resolved in the current situation.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, opening up the door further, stepping outside to meet you. “What are you doing here? It’s nearly ten at night.” He stated, and you took in a deep breath, your fingers fidgeting as you looked at him.

It was now or never.

“Can we talk?” You asked, “inside, preferably? It’s freezing out here.” You deadpanned, and he hesitated. You could see it on his face. He knew exactly what you were here about. “We couldn’t have a conversation over the phone? Or at the building tomorrow? Why right now?” He was deflecting the purpose of your visit, and you sighed.

“Kunpimook,” you said, which you rarely ever used his first name – it was how you showed when you were serious, and you could see his facial expression shift as he looked down to the concrete below his feet. “Please. I wouldn’t have come all this way so late if it weren’t important.” You finished, and he bit his lower lip, nodding his head slightly as he stepped aside for you to walk in before following behind you and shutting the door.

You took off your shoes, walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch cross legged. BamBam stood a few paces away from you, leaning against the doorway, and you ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear some sort of tension in the air.

“How long?” You asked, catching his attention as his eyes flickered to you.

“How long what?” BamBam shot back to which you didn’t miss a single beat in response. “How long were you planning on hiding this from us?”

That seemed to keep him quiet. You had to plan your moves carefully. People reacted to such interventions differently. Some went into hysterics, like you had, and had a breakdown. Some were defensive and cold – Like BamBam was, and were in complete denial that anything was wrong. All of them had to be handled differently. You just hoped you were doing it right.

You stood up and walked over to BamBam, your hands clasped in front of you. “I think I know the source of it too.” You began, taking a deep breath. “Yugyeom and I were talking a few weeks ago and he told me you’ve had a hard time getting a hold of your family back home.” You confessed, to which BamBam scoffed, turning away. You could see the pain on his face, the tears pooling in his eyes.

That was it.

You’d hit a nerve.

“Fucking snitch,” he snapped, beginning to walk away which you’d caught his arm. “Being homesick is nothing to be ashamed of, Kunpimook-” he cut you off by ripping his arm forcefully from your grip, causing you to stumble slightly but you’d caught your footing.

“It’s not just being homesick, (Y/N)!” He snarled, turning around to face you. Now you were getting somewhere. He was taking it out on you, but it was progress. “M-My mom.. she’s sick and no one is picking up their fucking phones she could be d-dead by now for all I know!” He hiccuped, beginning to pace back and forth.

You hated seeing him like this. You hated seeing your amazing, happy-go-lucky best friend in such pain. It felt like it was crushing your heart from the inside out. “If I was there, I’d be able to help her. What the fuck is the point of me being here when they need me most over here, (Y/N)? Can you answer that?!”

You decided to let this ride out, hearing him scream out his grievances until he was a puddle of just pure tears on the floor, curled up in a ball. You walked to his side, crouching down and moving his hands away from his face. “Kunpimook… It’s okay to admit when you’re not stable. If you’d mention your worries to JYP-nim, he would understand and more than likely send you home to be with your family.” You told him.

“Everyone here cares about your health. Everyone here wants you to be okay, and you’ve let your repression of your feelings go on for far too long. It’s affecting your work. It’s affecting your relationships with your friends – with me.” You explained, all the while wiping his tears and caressing his hair and face.

“You need to take care of yourself better, and that’s what I’m here for. To give you the wake up call you need and help you through his. We’ll talk to JYP-nim in the morning and talk about getting you on a flight back home. But you’ve gotta put yourself first.” You explained, to which he nodded softly.

“I want you to go and take a hot shower – wash off all that exterior stress. I’m going to get you something to eat so you can sleep better tonight. You need it.” You ordered halfheartedly, helping him to stand and you nudged him in the direction of the bathroom.

You quickly cooked up a few servings of tteok-bokki, figuring he’d be starving, and before you’d even realized it, an hour had gone by. You felt arms wrapping around your waist as you began to pour a hefty amount into a bowl and you could tell by the lanky frame it was BamBam. You could smell the lingering scent of his body wash and shampoo, his hair still damp as he held you tightly.

“What would I do without you…” He whispered into your shoulder and you stifled a laugh. “Who knows, but you’re with me now and I promise to make sure you’re well.” You said. It’d be a long road from now to cure his depression, but you knew with the right type of conditioning, you could bring his thought process back to it’s original state.

BamBam sighed, “food smells good.” He mumbled, and you could tell he was tired. “Yeah? How about you eat a few bowls and then you can go to sleep? I’ll even wrap you up like a little burrito.” You offered and he laughed dryly, letting you go and reaching around you to grab the bowl. He took a set of metal chopsticks and slurped up some of the dish, a throaty groan of appreciation leaving him and you giggled a little.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” BamBam started after swallowing. “For everything… really.” He finished, chewing on some more of his food before washing it down with some water, and doing something you hadn’t thought would happen tonight. He kissed you on the cheek – relatively close to your lips.

You and BamBam were always fairly affectionate – skinship, hugs, maybe a kiss on the forehead or two, holding hands, etc. But that was the closest you’d ever gotten to actually kissing him. You didn’t think anything by it, instead grabbing your own bowl and scarfing down enough to fill your mouth so you couldn’t talk about it.

After eating and cleaning up, surprisingly with the help of BamBam, you two headed to his shared room to put him to bed. You had prepared to head home afterwords, catch the last subway train back to your own apartment, but when the thought actually dawned on you, you’d decided it was a horrible idea.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?” He asked as you climbed into bed with him, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. “With how you’ve been acting these past few days I’ve realized it’s a terrible idea to leave you alone.” You told him, and he sighed, looking down at you in the dim light of the room. “I can’t really argue with you there.” He deadpanned, his eyes scanning over your face, rolling over, and shutting off the lamp – immersing you in darkness.

It was silent for a while before you heard a small groan. “BamBam? What’s the matter?” You mumbled, just barely falling asleep before he rolled over to where the lamp was, turning it on and whipping back around to you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N)-” he said before cupping your cheek with his free hand and kissing you.

Well.

That certainly woke you up.

He pulled away, his plump lips letting out a sigh of relief as he let his head fall back.

I-

“Wh-what was that for-?”

“I figured with all the feelings that have been thrown around tonight I’d confess sooner or later.”

To be honest, you weren’t surprised. You had a feeling, but you weren’t sure. You took a moment to process things, before your blushed and curled your body around his, burying your face into his shoulder with a small squeal. You could feel his laugh shake his body, another kiss falling on your cheek before he reached over and shut off the light again.

“Who would’ve known tteok-bokki and a hot shower would’ve opened my eyes to everything I’m missing.”

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Entry 18 - Gifts and Curses (Entry 4 of 4)

Part 1  

Part 2

Part 3

January 22, 2019

Dear “Diary,”

         I have a moment at work the other day when I realized that there is a zero percent chance that the most beautiful woman in the world who just happens to work in my office would ever like me back. We were in a meeting together about one of her projects. I was there to crunch numbers. And while she was as warm as she had always been, I remembered how unlikely it was that I could be with her. Life is never that kind to me; I don’t even get the things I earn or deserve half the time, never mind an extra moment in her presence.

         If she noticed my mood shift during that meeting when this realization hit me, she didn’t say. She smiled at me more directly towards the end of the meeting, but I’m not sure what to make of that. With the gluten thing, we’ll always have a special bond, so even if an action does have an alternative meaning, that meaning may not mean what I want it to me.

         Sometimes, it feels like Ada is in the room with me. Usually when the most beautiful woman in the world who just happens to work in my office isn’t around. It’s like there’s a maximum occupancy of people with gluten issues in my life, and that number is one. So where was this beautiful woman the past decade and plus.

         The dream life I was building with Ada was just as hazy as any dream would be, but the nightmare that ended it has embedded itself in my soul. One day, Ada didn’t go to school or rehearsal. Her absence was noticed but did not raise any concerns. After all, maybe it was a religious holiday. But if it was, then she would have told me about it. She told me everything about Mormonism, likely in the hopes of converting me but she never explained herself.

         No one was really alarmed until the third day she was gone. And that’s when the rumors started. Many of which were slanderous against her father. I find them unnecessarily scandalous and combative. But—to give a half-hearted summation—there are certain not usually practiced tenets in Mormonism that can get tossed around if someone is inclined to be malicious. Ada’s father heard about the rumors. I’m not quite sure what the chain was, but I’m not surprised. He was well-liked by the teachers and other parents, so I imagine it was one of them who told him what the high schoolers were saying.

         That was how we all found out Ada was hospitalized. For what, we were never told. But as a teenager, I thought I knew what it was. Namely, a Celiac Crisis. It’s a fairly rare syndrome in which someone’s Celiac disease gets so bad, they nearly die. Usually caused by exposure to gluten.

         I was jumping to conclusions, but because I already had the momentum, I kept going. If Ada had been exposed to gluten, it was through me. Obviously. I was the weakest link in her safety chain. The news triggered a series of mental examinations. I ran through every meal we had ever had together and the script I used when we went to restaurants. There was a crack in my system that I just wasn’t seeing.

         Anxiety is a constant companion in my life. I wouldn’t say “I suffer from it” only because 99% my relationships come coupled with a great deal of suffering, so those terms mean different things to me. When Ada was gone from my side, my anxiety returned in full force. It was loud, screaming at me that she had an unreasonably high chance of dying.

         While the rumors were vague, they did include the hospital she had been checked into. Predictably, they took her to the nearest hospital. They didn't say the room, but they did tell us that she wasn't in the ICU anymore. It was a sign that she had stabilized and not dying. A sign I couldn't believe. On top of that, at the time, I thought I saw a shred of kindness from the universe in the bus route that went straight from our school to the hospital. I don't remember what I told my mother. Maybe she didn't ask where I was going. That question had long since been irrelevant.

         I left straight away. I didn't even bother getting my homework out of my locker. It made it possible for me to catch the 3:10 rather than the 3:50. And every moment mattered.

         The nurse who greeted me at the front desk looked familiar. She even felt that way. As if our common roots came alive in each other's presence. She smiled at me. And together, we shared a nice moment.

         That was then destroyed.

         The Nightmare Teacher who hated otherness but loved homophobia came out. She sneered at me, trying to keep it subtle because she didn't have the same control over the hospital staff that she did over her students.

         “Ada's parents don't want her to have any visitors,” she said.

         “Why?” I asked. “Is she okay?”

         “She's better off without you all. Besides, she's had enough visitors. Liza was here when I got here.”

         Maybe it was just another jump, but that's just from your perspective. You didn't see the twinkle in her eye. In Ada's parents, she found the like-minded soul she thrived off of. Her power over me was assured. The sadist got to take away what I love most.

         I ran my hand through my hair, ruffling it. With it being so short, it fell back into place with ease, but my emotions ran high. Sure, she didn't know about me and Ada, but she knew enough to poison the well rather thoroughly.

         And she was happy with that. She walked away without another word.

         I looked towards the nurse. Her smile was gone. She couldn't muster it anymore. Not when she had to repeat it, understanding how horrible it was for me.  

         Ada was a minor, legally. It was her parents’ decision, and they had decided. They had also decided they didn't want to hear what I had to say. I caught a glimpse of Ada's mother on my way out. My word, she thought I was Satan's child, but kudos to her for staring me down despite of this.

         I tried everyday to see her. I begged. I pleaded. I went. I did everything short of getting arrested. And maybe I should have. If I'd been arrested I would have proof that I try. That I tried with every bit of my soul to see her.

         When she was discharged, she was told I hadn't tried. That no one had. Once again, her parents twisted the truth to gain control over her. And I was left with no evidence to defend myself. Because I swear, truly, that I went everyday to see her. I loved her. Truly. I wanted to be with her. But I was helpless.

         “I can't believe…” she screeched. The air had taken on so much emotion that we were struggling to breathe. All the hopes and dreams she had placed in me were coming undone. And that was a lot for both of us to take in.  “I was ready to give up everything for you. Do you know that?”

         The sounds of her cries broke my heart. I hated to see her unhappy. I hated that she was hurting. I hated myself for not doing more to prevent it.

         “I loved you, Alex. I was ready to do anything for you. I was going to leave the church for you.”

         She screamed in no uncertain terms that I'm nothing. I don't want to think about her exact words. I'm sorry. I loved her, and because of that love, I believed every word she said. I took it to heart. After all, she was the only thing that mattered.

         In my mind, none of that would have happened of Ada hadn't been exposed to gluten. Through me. Through the meals we pretty much shared. Through the meals I ordered for her. So gluten ruined my life, right? I was too scared to eat it ever again. Rationally, I knew I wasn't physically allergic to gluten. But if I thought I'd come into contact with it, my body would just shut down. Vomitting was he most common symptom, but really, my body didn't care how it emptied itself as long as it did.

         It was one of the first things my first therapist chose to tackle, pointing out that I didn't even know if Ada had a Celiac Crisis (she never said) and that it was the lie that truly led to my misery not my action. After all, I had gone to the hospital to see her. I'd never abandoned her like she had been led to believe.

         But that seems like splitting hairs. Who knows what moment really damned Ada? Was it something I did? Or the simple fact of her birth?

         I could hardly lament her existence, so I know where I fall in that debate.

         The last I heard, Ada was caught in an abusive relationship with a newly converted Mormon in her church. It's hard to know how much he believed versus didn't as from what I know, converting to Mormonism isn't as hard as it is some other religions. But I really don't know. I just know her parents might rather that than her being with a heathen like me. Speculation, of course, but I can't help but think that fits into their character.

Digitally Yours (If you want me…),

Alex

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