#well i clearly remember one time where she threw the birthday present i had made her because it was

[iknaenmal]

3, 10, 21, 30 for the ask game - cerulean

Ooh hello cerulean hi!!!! Ok lets see :]

3- hmmm my mother usually puts scented candles at home, though i dont really know what scents they are, but im going to go with vanilla!! I like vanilla :)

10- OH im excited for when the stuff i bought in the homestuck website finally arrive home ! Hopefully theyll be here before christmas or smth. And also!!!! I canr WAIT for the exams to end. Ive got three tomorrow, which are the last one and oh my god. This time tomorrow ill be free from exams forever. Well. Until december

21. Oh uhhhhh hmm id sayyy to PLEASE get better friends. Ive got a friend who is uh Not Really Nice at me but. I dont know how to end my friendship with her. And i dont know what i would do if ever got to because shes been my friend as long as i can remember... but anyways! Lets move on

30. Hmmm this ones a bit hard! this kind of flower i think!!↓

im not too sure if its exactly the same im talking about but its the closest i could find! so, we had lots of flowers of this kind at the house i lived when i was a kid, and everytime i see one i get reminded of those times.... my uncle and aunt and cousins live there now, so we sometimes go visit them but its not the same as actually living there you know?

[fruitcoops]

Cake Off

Happy birthday, Finn O'Hara! Here's to hoping all your wishes come true <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Marlene waved to the camera as she wove a small whisk into her bun; behind her, five young men sat in front of a well-lit industrial kitchen. “Hello, Lions, and welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon, and we’re here today to celebrate someone we all love very much.”

“Some more than others,” Leo corrected.

“Today is Finn O’Hara’s 25thbirthday,” Marlene continued. “And my gift to him was letting him pick what our next video was going to be. Being the agent of chaos we know and love, he chose to force his friends to make him birthday cakes. Cap, Knutty, I know you two are feeling pretty confident about this. Tremzy, Kasey, and Loops, how are we feeling today?”

Logan’s expression was rather pained. “Can I apologize in advance?”

“I have…a history with ovens,” Kasey said carefully. “Kind of like Britain’s history with the rest of the world, except I’m the rest of the world and the oven wins nine times out of ten.”

“I don’t bake,” Remus sighed. “This is going to be an adventure. Can I leave if I already got him a present?”

“Nope!” Marlene chirped. “To your stations, everyone!”

The five of them trooped to the countertops, which had been covered with a colorful assortment of baking supplies; Logan’s smile grew even more nervous. “Is there a guidebook, or something?”

Marlene ruffled his hair as she passed. “Where’s the fun in that? You have two hours to make a unique birthday cake. On your marks—”

Kasey went pale. “Wait—”

“—get set—”

“Marlene, please,” Remus begged.

“—go!”

“Oh my god,” Logan muttered. “Uh, I don’t have a recipe.”

Marlene’s grin was wicked. “That’s the extra bonus fun.”

Leo paused from where he was measuring flour into a sifter and raised his hand. “Finn’s not actually tasting everyone’s cakes, right? ‘Cause making him sick on his birthday seems a bit mean.”

“He only has to try one bite of each,” Marlene assured him as she stopped by Sirius’ station, where he was gathering his ingredients in a line. “Cap, what are you making today?”

“Vanilla with chocolate frosting. I know the recipe by heart, but I only make it when I’m stressed.” A furrow appeared between his brows before he straightened up and raised his voice. “Hey, someone stress me out!”

“Playoffs!” Kasey shouted from across the room. All five men immediately hurried to knock on the wooden cabinets.

“Thanks!” Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and Kasey winked.

“And somebody won’t be sleeping tonight,” Remus muttered, flicking sugar at Kasey. ��Thanks, Bliz.”

Logan was still bracing himself against the countertop when Marlene arrived at his table. “How’re you feeling, Tremz? I see you haven’t chosen any ingredients.”

“There’s a very fine line between making your boyfriend a birthday cake and poisoning him,” Logan said after a moment. “And I think I’m about to find out where it is.”

“What are you making?”

“I don’t know yet. Whatever happens, happens.”

“Fair enough,” Marlene laughed as she moved on. “Leo?”

“I’m gonna make a lemon cake,” he said with a proud smile as he mixed the dry ingredients. “And it’s going to be delicious.”

“Do you bake at home very often? You sound confident.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “For special occasions, yeah. I vaguely know what I’m doing, so I feel pretty good.”

“How do you think Logan’s cake will turn out?”

Leo paused and glanced up. A beat of silence passed before he bit his lower lip. “I think it’s a really good thing that Finn has two boyfriends that are making him cakes.”

“Rude,” Logan grumbled as he dumped another cupful of flour into a bowl to Sirius’ obvious horror. He stuck his tongue out. “Don’t give me that look, Cap, this cake is going to be fucking amazing.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and turned back to his own batter. “If you say so.”

Logan stood on his toes and poured the next cup directly over Sirius’ head in a poof of white. The studio went silent. With a cough, a bit of flour puffed from Sirius’ mouth. “Cap?” Kasey ventured.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.” He slowly took a towel off the oven door and wiped his face with it, then whipped around and snapped it at Logan’s thigh—it connected with a sharp sound, followed by a yelp as Logan shoved Leo in front of him as a makeshift shield. “You can’t hide behind him forever!”

“Remember, you only have two hours!” Marlene called as she dodged a patch of flour on the floor. Sirius scowled and put the towel back down on the counter; Logan backed away to his station with a suspicious glare. “Loops, how are you?”

“I’m minding my own business,” he said innocently. “Staying in my lane. Paying no attention to the idiots behind the curtain, if you will.”

“Impressive. What are you making for our wonderful Harzy?”

“Spite cake.”

“What?”

“Spite cake,” he repeated with a shadow of a smile. “It’s carrot cake, but with no special ingredient of love or appreciation, because he knows how much I hate baking and he’s been making fun of me over text all morning.”

Leo frowned. “Weren’t you two bonding over how much you hate carrot cake when we went to lunch yesterday?”

“Hence the name,” Remus said as he pulled a cheese grater out of the lineup.

“And last, but certainly not least, Kasey.” Marlene leaned against the edge of his table. “How’s it going over here?”

“So far, so good.” He eyed his batter and poked one of the lumps with a fork. “Does this look ready to you?”

“Seems a bit wet, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Do people put milk in cake batter?” On the other end of the kitchen, Sirius and Leo shared a look.

Marlene patted his arm. “Good luck, Bliz.”

The camera cut for a moment—when it returned, the three bakers on the far end seemed to be even more flustered than before. “You have one hour left!” someone off-screen announced.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Logan held his spatula up. The batter remained stuck to it in a doughy lump. “Is this supposed to happen?”

Leo’s eyes flickered between Sirius, who was clearly shocked into silence, and Logan, who was growing more distressed by the second. “Sure, honey.”

“Baby, it looks like jello,” Remus called as he shook his mixing bowl with a nervous glance to Sirius. “Why does it look like jello?”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered as he crossed the room; the second he looked over Remus’ shoulder, his eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“I don’t know.”

“You put flour in, right?”

“Hey, no helping!” Kasey protested, swatting Sirius on the shoulder with an oven mitt. “We all fail on our own merit here. Tremy’s making concrete, Loops has jello, and I’ve got soup, so you and Knutty can fuck off back to your perfect batter and let us suffer in peace!”

“Jesus, Bliz, did you put water in that?”

“No! I put butter and milk in!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“One hour left!” Marlene shouted.

“Fuck it, it’s good enough.” Remus grabbed the nearest cake pan and dumped his batter in, then put it in the oven. He turned the heat on and faced the camera guiltily. “Harzy, I know this was meant to spite you, it really was just meant to be a carrot cake. Not…that.”

Logan sprinkled a handful of chocolate sprinkled into his mixing bowl. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he singsonged. “But I know I’m doing it poorly!”

“Oh my god,” Remus said suddenly as he licked some of his batter off his finger. “Oh my—oh my god.”

Kasey looked up from pouring his batter into a pan in mild alarm. “What?”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. Here, try it.”

Kasey put his cake in the oven before swiping a bit off and tasting it. His whole face scrunched. “What?”

“I know,” Remus laughed, passing the spatula to Logan. “It’s like getting punched with a cinnamon stick.”

“I can feel it in my nose,” Logan coughed. “Here, try mine.”

Leo regarded them with a healthy amount of disbelief. “Why are you all tasting it if you know it’s bad?”

“Because Marlene needs workable content.”

“Do it for the vine.”

“Because I’m a dumbass, rookie.” Kasey lifted the spatula up. “Cap, your fiancé made toxic sludge in cake form. Want some?”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed and headed over. Leo threw his hands in that air. “You, too?”

“What else am I supposed to—” Sirius faltered with a harsh exhale and braced his hands against the counter, licking his lips. “How many eggs did you put in that?”

“Four? Five?”

“How much cinnamon?”

“A teaspoon?”

Sirius took a fortifying breath through his nose. “Teaspoon or tablespoon?”

“Tablespoon,” Kasey answered for him. “Definitely a tablespoon. Try mine.”

“You two are never allowed in a kitchen again,” Sirius said, though he swiped his finger along the inside of Kasey’s bowl and tasted his batter with a grimace. “Ugh. It’s just melted butter.”

“How did you make it taste like salty butter and nothing else?” Logan asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Well, Tremzy, I put salt and butter in it.”

Leo’s phone timer went off and he opened the oven door; four faces turned toward him in shock as he pulled a golden cake out and checked the center with a toothpick. Logan closed his eyes and bent closer, taking a deep inhale. “I wish the viewers could smell this, because it’s heaven.”

“Can it be my birthday instead?” Kasey asked. “Please?”

“Get back, you hyenas!” Leo whacked him lightly on the hand with a spoon when he reached out to poke the cake. “That oven was 350 degrees!”

Sirius glanced up at the camera. “That’s 177 degrees, for all you smart people out there.”

“Boo, Celsius.” Remus kissed his cheek. “You smell like sugar.”

“How much time do you all have left on your cakes?” Marlene asked from her perch next to the sink.

Logan, Remus, and Kasey shared a look before Logan turned back to her. “I don’t know?”

“You can’t answer that with another question,” she laughed.

“Ten minutes,” he guessed.

“Whenever it starts to smell good,” Remus said. “Though I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Kasey cocked his head and scanned Leo’s cake for a second. “When it starts looking like that.”

“It won’t,” Leo informed him.

“Damn, Knutty, okay.”

Marlene shook her head. “We’re going to cut filming until everyone’s cakes are out of the oven, but in the meantime we’ve got some special messages for our favorite redhead.”

A banner reading Happy Birthday, Finn! appeared on the screen with a burst of confetti before the usual studio replaced it, with its white walls and folding chairs. Dumo crossed one leg over the other with a soft smile. “One thing I admire about Finn is his tenacity. When he wants something, he’ll go for it with his whole heart.”

“I love his humor,” Leo said in the next short video. He was smiling as well, and had a faint blush on his freckled cheeks. “And the way he makes breakfast in the mornings. All the little things he does to make the people he loves happy. And he really does love with his whole heart. There’s no holding back with him.”

“Finn?” Sirius thought for a moment. “He’s a good person. I know that might sound lame, but he’s one of those people that you meet that always makes you feel happy, and confident, and supported. Anyone who meets him should count themselves lucky.”

Logan’s face was filled with nothing but affection. “I love his patience and his kindness. Whether that was helping me work on my English in college, or making the rookies feel welcome, or even the way he talks to complete strangers when they ask for directions on the street. Everything about him is kind.”

“Ah, jeez.” Remus bit his lower lip. “I think—I think what I admire most about Finn is that he never lets anyone else define who he is. He’s comfortable in himself and makes everyone around him feel safe. It’s sappy, but it’s true. He’s one of my best friends and I’m grateful for him every day.”

“He’s one of the most reliable people I’ve ever met,” James said. “Both on and off the ice. He will be there to support his friends in any capacity and I think we all need to be a little more like Finn that way.”

“Great player.” Arthur nodded. “Great player, and an even better teammate. I can put O’Hara anywhere on the ice and he’ll throw everything he’s got into doing his best. I can’t think of a single Lion who doesn’t love being on the same shift as him.”

Talker grinned, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head. “Finn just loves hockey. He takes it seriously, of course, but he loves being out there with us and I’m always happy when we’re on a line together. He goes out there every night and has a blast. I admire a lot about him, but especially that.”

“It’s hard to pick one specific thing that I admire about him,” Kasey said, shifting in his chair. “He’s Finn. He’s annoying as all hell, and I love him for it. I’m not sure. Can I make a list?”

“Harzy is very cool,” Olli laughed. “Very cool and very fun to be around. He has a quick wit and truly cares about all of us.”

Kuny raised his eyebrows. “What I like about Harzy? Oh, everything. Everything. He is good friend, good teammate, always there when we need him. Good for Tremzy and Knutty, too. He would turn red like fire engine if he heard me. Don’t tell him I say that.”

The video changed to a wide view of the whole team as they waved to the camera. “Happy birthday, Harzy!” they chorused. “Bitch ass moves!”

The kitchen was much cleaner when the video resumed; all the cooking supplies had been taken away, leaving five hockey players with their cakes in front of them. Leo’s cake was a bit lopsided, though the yellow frosting was cheerful and even—next to him, Logan’s cake looked more like a squished loaf of bread. Sirius’ was plain and elegant, while Kasey’s frosting was still dripping as the camera zoomed in on it.

“Wow,” Finn said after a moment of silence from his seat at the main table, where five slices of cake had been placed on small plates with a label for each name. “Just…wow.”

“You can start with whichever one you want,” Marlene told him.

“I think I’ll save Cap and Leo’s for last. Uh, Kase, what happened here?”

Kasey sighed. “I wish I knew.”

Finn gave it a wary look, then took a bite; his chewing slowed to a stop almost immediately and Logan’s shoulders started to shake from his suppressed laughter. “You know it’s burnt on the outside and not cooked on the inside, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Just checking.” With great effort, he swallowed. “Why is it wet?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, man.”

Finn took the next plate, then paused. “Re, I love you, but…”

Remus shook his head. “I know.”

“I’m genuinely afraid to try this.”

“You should be.”

The second it touched his tongue, Finn started laughing. “Jesus, it’s a straight shot of cinnamon. Why is it crunchy?”

“It’s carrot cake!”

“You know I hate carrot cake!”

“Look, I gave it my best shot. It really wasn’t supposed to do…” He gestured at the plate. “That.”

“Lo, baby, please tell me yours is better than the last two.”

Logan thought for a moment. “It was made with love and that’s all that matters.”

Finn took a deep breath before taking a bite. A range of emotions washed over his face—pleasant surprise, then confusion, then horror, and finally disbelief. “I…what?”

“I don’t even know.”

He swallowed, then ate another bite. “Oh, bad idea. This—are there chocolate chips in here? And almonds?”

“Yeah. You like those, right?”

“Usually, yes. It’s kind of got the texture of fruitcake, but—” Finn broke off and picked the slice up, giving it a shake. Not even a crumb fell out of place, and the rest of the boys burst out laughing. “Lo. Logan. Light of my life, what the fuck?”

“Happy birthday?”

“This is the best birthday present ever. Alright, Cap, your turn.” He took a piece of Sirius’ cake and nodded. “Yep, that’s cake.”

Sirius blinked at him. “And?”

Finn shrugged. “It’s cake. Classic flavors, good texture. I like it. Definitely tastes like a cake you would make.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s calling you basic,” Kasey said, patting Sirius’ shoulder sympathetically. “But hey, at least yours was cooked all the way.”

“And now for boyfriend number two,” Finn continued.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Boyfriend number two.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” Finn groaned around a mouthful of cake. His eyebrows pitched. “I love it.”

“What about it?” Marlene prompted.

“For starters, it’s cooked all the way through. The lemon is freakin’ amazing, and the frosting isn’t melting off the sides or anything. I can’t even taste everyone else’s anymore. It’s a helluva cake. Happy birthday to me. Will you make this every day?”

“No,” Leo said, though there was a pleased flush on his face. “But maybe on the weekend.”

Finn scraped the last of the crumbs off his plate. “Alright, everyone, come get a piece of this magic. Thank you for doing this, by the way. I know three of you hate baking.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Logan admitted as he settled himself on one of Finn’s thighs with a slice of his own and kissed his temple. “Sorry for almost poisoning you. Oh, that is tasty.”

“I love you anyway. I think Loops and Bliz were actually the closest to doing that, so you’re all good.” Finn raised his eyebrows and craned his neck over Logan’s shoulder. “Speaking of…”

“Lasagna or chicken piccata?” Remus asked. Sirius took advantage of his moment of distraction by stealing a bite off his plate and received a playful glare in response, though it was soothed by a kiss on his cheek.

“Lasagna, please.”

“Does Friday work?”

Finn gave him a thumbs-up. “Sorry, Harzy,” Kasey said as he carefully got the last bits of frosting off his fork. “I have no marketable skills to apologize with. You don’t want me anywhere near a stove or an oven.”

A gleam lit in Finn’s eye. “Will you get in all your pads and play chicken with Knutty and I?”

“For the twentieth time—”

“It’s my birthday,” he wheedled, pouting his lower lip out with the Bambi eyes turned to full blast.

Kasey sighed. “Fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Thanks for joining us for our birthday celebration,” Marlene said with a smile. “The best estimations of these recipes are linked on our website, with a few tweaks to make sure none of your loved ones get food poisoning this August. Have a great day, Lions!”

[bluesora]

celebrating mother’s day with you

tsukishima kei ; sugawara kōshi ; oikawa torū ; kita shinsuke

headcanon ; fluff ; age up ; snippets of cuteness ; parenthood ; special edition — mother’s day

note: i’m not sure if i portrayed each characterization well but i just thought it’ll be fun to write one. after all, i was blessed to be born with loving parents and i just wanted to share the love i’m grateful for.

tagging: @forgetou @amjustagirl @yacoka @haikyuutothetop @luvnami ;; thank you for dropping these characters as i couldn’t decide who to write for. (of course it was more exciting without context)

ps. it’s longer than expected i’m sorry :’)

tsukishima kei

tsukishima isn’t one who would remember special occasions unless someone had schedule a plan in advance with him. when he wondered if he should do anything for you after hearing his colleagues whispering during break, his work got busier than usual so he had forgotten about it.

that was, until he realized he had ten missed calls from his son; which was odd because he weren’t one to call him so often.

“i was in a meeting, what hap—” before tsukishima could finish his sentence, his son interrupted him, “i bought mom’s favorite cake since you’re slow. hurry home or there’s none left for you,” the line was cut right after; which of course left poor tsukishima’s partner to deal with the aftermath. “tsukishima-san, about the report—”

“it must be so urgent that it needs my immediate attention even when i’m packing up right?” his words dripped of pure sarcasm despite the polite smile hanging from his lips. everyone could literally see the panic swirling in his partner’s pupil.

“i’m sorry!! good work today and see you tomorrow!!” it’s the weekend tomorrow, but tsukishima was too hung up on his son’s attitude to shoot another of his sarcastic reply.

you, on the other hand, were neither someone who would celebrate such occasion unless it was for birthdays or holidays. therefore, you didn’t really had anything in mind nor were you expecting anything as well.

when you finally reached home from a tiring day at work, you were definitely not expecting to see your favorite cake on the table while your son popped a party popper with a party horn in his mouth right beside you.

“happy mother’s day!” he tried to mumble out with the horn still in his mouth. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected surprise, dropping your bag on the counter just so you could hug him—one that he wholeheartedly hugged you back because tsukishima wasn’t around.

it took an hour for tsukishima to be home, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand when he walked over to where you and the cheeky lad was sitting. “oh! you didn’t have to though,” you smiled in surprise.

“dad’s just guilty he forgot about our promise and didn’t want to come home empty handed.” you chuckled at that, perhaps it wasn’t entirely wrong either but you still appreciate the sentiment. it was rare for him after all.

“those who break promises don’t get desserts.” he continued to press his dad’s buttons, only to see tsukishima loosened his tie with an expression he could not understand.

“oh, but that’s on your mom to decide if i’ll get one tonight or not.” you could feel your face heating up at your husband’s words, the tone and smile that dawned on his face was a look you knew oh so well.

“tch...i thought i hid it well.” of course, your clueless son didn’t know the true meaning of those words and thought the strawberry shortcake he bought for his dad was found out.

sugawara kōshi

sugawara would definitely plan in advance with the children. especially when they were the ones who excitedly wanted to do something for you.

“mama like animals! lets go to the zoo!” the middle child exclaimed with so much enthusiasm, sugawara could only chuckle at her adorable smile.

“you only said that because you wanted to go to the zoo, dummy.” the eldest one huffed, feeling proud that he saw through her obvious tactic.

it didn’t take long for the two to start crawling over each other in a fight while the youngest one giggled amusingly as if she was watching a performance. that was, until an insult was thrown at her so she joined in the fight to prove her worth.

“if you don’t stop now, we’ll be celebrating at home like how we did the past two years.” that immediately ceased all action, since they haven’t had the chance to go out together as a whole family thanks to your busy schedule.

“how about the park? the cherry blossoms have bloomed and mama likes going to the park!” of course, sugawara was fond of this idea. it’s been a while since there was a family picnic session.

and so on that very day in which you finally managed to take a day off, you weren’t expecting to be blind folded while having your children guide you to wherever you were supposed to be.

knowing how clumsy the trio could be, he wanted to accompany them as well but was outright rejected when they said they could do it themselves with so much confidence, he wasn’t sure who they got it from.

with their tiny hands, it took a while for them to tie the piece of cloth around your eyes, and even when they did, it wasn’t tied well enough so you could actually still see your footing (which saved you immensely from all the accidental knocks along the way)

after what felt like forever, you finally reached the park where they shouted ‘happy mother’s day’ in unison. you kind of already knew it’ll be a picnic from the soft grass beneath your feet and those fallen pink petals, but you were still moved to tears when you saw your children squeezed together into your husband’s arms while cute decoration and plates of food were spread between you and them.

“mama, try the cookie first! i made them myself!” the middle one was the first to break the silence.

“no! try my sandwich first, i’m the eldest!”

“so what if you’re the eldest? mama must be thirsty from walking so have my ultimate happy berry juice!” the youngest chirped with pride, as if her logic was a straight pass to winning.

you laughed at their competitive nature, which was oh so endearing at the same time. and it was obvious if you don’t decide soon, an all out food war was going to happen.

“before that, shouldn’t mama receive papa’s present first?” sugawara’s cheerful voice interrupted their little argument, and just before the youngest could ask what it was, her eyes was covered by the eldest son along with the middle one.

you couldn’t help but hit his arm in embarrassment when his lips met yours longer than it should’ve been.

“hey! that’s not fair, i didn’t get to see papa’s present,” your middle one sulked, only to be carried into sugawara’s arms as he peck her little cheek with a wink. “why don’t you ask mama what it was, baby?”

oikawa torū

it was supposed to be a big surprise where he came home earlier than the date he had told you. he even told the kids about it and they promised to make it a success (money was definitely involved to be honest)

“make sure you delay mummy at the grocery store long enough for me to set everything up in time.” he reminded his daughter time and time again, only to have her sigh at his impatience.

“i think i’m old enough to not forget something so simple dad. and please stop addressing mom like that, it’s creepy.” she cringed, wondering how you even deal with oikawa every day.

“dad, have you even baked a cake before? do you think you can get it done within an hour or maybe two?” his son asked the third time that day, which did irk oikawa with that tone of his.

“of course i can! are you looking down on me? it’s just a simple vanilla cake and some fruits on top. how hard can it be?”

of course, with every rhetorical question that pose a challenge, there would always be an answer exactly of what’s to be expected.

you, with no idea that your husband was making a mess of your kitchen, took your own sweet time at the grocery store since your daughter was there to help and it’s been a while since you had a mother and daughter bonding time.

“do you think your dad would like to have curry tomorrow? or should we just have hamburger steak?” you asked, still unsure of the menu for a celebratory dinner.

“i think he would like anything you cook, so don’t worry about it. dad’s always so happy to eat your homemade meals.” she answered with shrug, but you could tell she was happy to rely the same sentiment.

everything went smoothly and she did managed to stall your time with her longer than the agreed duration. that was, until she received a text from her brother saying dad’s cake was a failure and they should just get one outside; you two were already at the apartment lift when she read it.

“dad, i think you should just give up. they are already walking over from the—” oikawa having enough of his son’s constant nagging about how he should’ve just bought a cake instead, threw a whiff of flour to his son’s face without thinking.

and of course, which kid would not retaliate from that. the kitchen, which originally wasn’t as messy, turned into chaos of white fluff and sticky childish banter between the two.

you, not expecting to see your husband, was clearly surprise when you heard his voice by the door. the only excitement that came from that vanished the moment your eyes fell onto the state of your kitchen.

“happy mother’s day?” oikawa managed to choke out when he felt your growing presence with each step towards him.

“i’m sorry mom, it was my fault please don’t kill dad—” your son pleaded softly by the side, only to fell speechless when you threw yourself into oikawa’s arms instead.

“welcome home,” you greeted with so much warmth, oikawa couldn’t help but embraced you tightly as he replied, “i’m home.”

“mom? you’re not mad?” your daughter asked in disbelief when she brought the groceries – including the ones you dropped – over to the kitchen.

“mad? why would i be when you dad’s sleeping in the kitchen tonight.” you were so serious and certain, the two broke into fits of laughter as they ran from their father (which was fertile because they got caught immediately and was tickled to tears)

“why are you laughing when you two are having a sleepover with daddy tonight.”

“please dad, just stop.”

kita shinsuke

there was no surprises because kita’s way of celebrating was just regular activities but doing it together. which was honestly, what you love to do most since you don’t always get the chance of spending weekdays with your family often.

from preparing meals to visiting town, usually it would be done by kita himself. however, this time because of the special occasion, you took time off to accompany your husband while bringing your little ones along with you.

“mama here’s the carrot,” your little girl placed the orange vegetable on the chopping board before humming a tune while the other twin helped kita with picking the ends of the beansprouts.

“papa are we going to town later?” she beamed excitedly, hands still working on the tiny vegetable while her legs swung to the rhythm of her twin sister’s melody.

“yes, we are. do you have a place you want to visit?” he was done with his side so he continued onto the pile his daughter was removing.

“yes! we want to go to onigiri miya!” they both said at the same time, giggling right after when their father looked surprise.

“all right, let’s go after our lunch.” and everything went along smoothly with the little twins setting the table together while you and kita took turns to cook up the dishes. lunch was pleasant despite minimal words being exchanged since the twins were taught to not talk with their mouth full (and their mouth are always stuffed full)

while you and kita held hands with the twins walking hand in hand by themselves in front, the feeling of nostalgia seemed to tickle your bones at the memory of how you used to take long strolls with kita during your younger days.

“what’s wrong?” kita tugged your hand gently which snapped you back to reality when you realized you all have reached the store.

“nothing...i’m just grateful to be your wife and mother of two beautiful angels.” your smile had him press a fluttering kiss to your temple as he softly replied, “me too.”

“i see yer two are still as lovey-dovey as ever captain.” atsumu popped his head out from the entrance, both twins sitting comfortably on his arms as he carried them as if they were feathers.

“i’m not your captain anymore atsumu, but i see they both seemed to like you.” kita smiled at his two lovely dolls, one that atsumu have never seen much of because of his busy schedule.

“of course, who do you think i am? the better—” but before atsumu could even finish his flex, the two snapped their head over at the appearance of osamu in his apron. their hands immediately reaching out for the man to hug.

“uncle osamu!!” they squealed happily, trying their best to squirm out of atsumu’s grip.

“i guess not huh ‘tsumu,” osamu smirked at the annoyed twin, patting his hands dry before prying the little twins from his brother’s vice grip. of course, they both would fight over the kid’s affection. who wouldn’t right?

you watched the pair of twins in amusement with your head against kita’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your delicate frame. this too will be yet another moment kita would not forget, for he felt blissful to be their father and your husband.

[myfavoriteinvestment]

rowaelin month day 1 - can’t help falling in love

prompt: "I just realized I'm desperately in love with you"

-

Meeting Aelin for the first time, Rowan begrudged that she was beautiful. Arrogant as he could be and incessantly swaggering, but she was beautiful. There was something sweet, and yet so sharp, about her features. His eyes traced them greedily the first, the second, the third time he met her, and even today, as she set her bag next to his in the library and took a seat across from him he couldn't help it. He absorbed every bit of her; golden hair and aquamarine eyes ringed with gold. The small nose, sharp but softened by the sun kissed freckles scattered along it. The cheekbones that framed her face and lips painted a threatening shade of red.

"So, Rowan, what'll it be today?" Aelin asked, pulling out her notebook and flipping her hair over one shoulder. He didn't know it yet, but it was a nervous tic.

"The same as yesterday, Aelin. Calculus." He gave her a long suffering look and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was beautiful, but it didn't make tutoring her any easier.

"No originality." She sighed. "How disappointing."

"Let's just start."

So they began, and Rowan questioned not for the first time why she had bothered asking their teacher for a peer tutor. She was clearly skilled. She knew what she was doing. He worked up the courage and asked for the first time.

"I'm pretty busy," She explained. "I just want to make sure that I'm understanding everything and that I know what I'm doing, you know? Sometimes I'm so tired in class and I just want to make sure I'm getting everything. Sorry if that makes this seem like a waste of time." Rowan shook his head. He admired her dedication to her education. He certainly cared for his own, but not this much.

"No, I don't mind at all. I have hockey, but that doesn't really start for a while."

"Right, right, you're on the hockey team! You just don't seem like it when we're sitting in the library and you're teaching me math, you know?"

"And you don't seem like the type to be aspiring for Julliard, but here we are."

"Shhh!" Aelin exaggerated. "That's a secret!" Rowan looked at her pointedly.

As he opened his mouth to say something, another boy walked up to the table they were sitting at. Rowan recognized him. He was a year younger, in Aelin's grade.

"Chaol! What're you doing here? I'd expect Dorian at the library, but you're usually at the gym." Chaol. That was his name. And Aelin seemed to know him, seemed to be very familiar with him in fact. And who was Dorian. Rowan found that these questions rose no matter how hard he tried to tamp them down.

Chaol's cheeks were coated in a slight blush. "Could I talk to you, just the two of us?"

Did he plan on asking Aelin out? Rowan couldn't deny that no matter how much he ignored it, a part of him hoped that wouldn't happen.

"What do you say tutor? Can the two of us finish for the day?"

The other part knew that was stupid, because that was it really. He was her tutor, and maybe they were friends. Acquaintances probably. It wasn't something he wanted to think too much about. So he mumbled a yes and hoped Aelin heard him, beginning to pack his things.

And he froze, because Aelin kissed him on the cheek. Then ran off with Chaol, behind the bookshelves.

Fuck this, he thought. Fuck the searing heat in the spot her lips had pressed against his skin, fuck the fluttering in his stomach, fuck his uneven heartbeat. Fuck the lipstick smudge on his cheek. Still, he bit his lip hard enough to hurt to hold back he didn't know what. A smile? Maybe.

He stood from their table and then Aelin and Chaol popped back out of the bookshelves. "Guess who has a date?" She sing songed. The lightness in his chest turned sticky and heavy like tar and it became hard to breathe. "Me, stupid. God, don't look at me like that, it's not that confusing!"

"That's- it's nice."

"It's very nice, Rowan, thank you very much. See you tomorrow? I'll tell you all about it after you teach me fancy math, I promise." Aelin smiled and whirled around, walking out of the library with Chaol.

After that, Rowan had no choice but to come to terms with his feelings for Aelin. He didn't just think she was beautiful, she was funny and her wit and swagger was captivating. Conversations with her were entertaining and he noticed the small things she did, like the way she narrowed her eyes when she concentrated or sighed under her breath when she didn't understand.

Tutoring sessions were his time with her, but they became almost unbearable. Chaol stopped by every day within the first hour of their two hour session, dropping off a coffee that he could tell was too bitter and kissing Aelin before going about his own business.

In March, when colleges were sending acceptance letters out, Rowan would be lying if he said Aelin wasn't the first person texted when Yale sent him the letter saying he got it. The next day, Rowan found Aelin at their table, books and papers out, two cups of steaming liquid. She looked up as he set his things down and smiled wide at him.

"How does it feel to know you're going to an Ivy?" She asked, and passed him a cup. He pried off the lid and smiled when the sweet smell of jasmine tea wafted up to him. He preferred it to coffee. Aelin, though was drinking coffee, and he suspected it had far too much sugar for it to be healthy.

"It feels great. And nerve wracking, honestly." He replied. She nodded.

"Yeah, I can see how. I'd be freaked out too if I got into such a prestigious college."

"And maybe you will." He raised his brows. "Julliard?"

She sighed exaggeratedly. "I don't think I'm good enough for Julliard, truthfully."

"Well, apply next year. If only so you can come visit me at Yale." Aelin's face brightened with a mischievous smile.

"If you say so."

They settled into comfortable silence for a bit, and then Rowan started their review for the day. When it had been an hour and a half and Chaol hadn't stopped by yet, he had to ask. "Where's the boyfriend?"

"No longer my boyfriend. Looks like I have to buy my own coffee from now own." She sighed in that dramatic way of hers again. Rowan couldn't help the overwhelming relief that slammed through him. Now he could-

He could what? He could ask her out? Tell her that he knew Chaol had never bothered to properly learn her coffee order because he noticed the way she winced when she sipped the too bitter liquid? Tell her that he knew she was brilliant on the piano, though he'd only heard her play once? That she was beautiful and smart and funny and so, so brilliant, and they'd only have a year together before he left?

He couldn't do it. Or maybe you're afraid, that awful voice everyone had in their head mocked him. Rowan didn't want to admit to that either.

So all he said was, "Oh, I'm sorry." Aelin flashed a smile at him, and it twisted a knife through his gut because it wasn't her swaggering grin. It was gone sooner than it had come. They continued with their session until two hours came to an end and Aelin stood abruptly, leaving the library faster than she did before.

On May 3rd, Aelin turned 17, and Rowan remembered it. He carried her present with him all through the day. It was tucked into a small black box, her name written in gold marker in his quick scrawl. When he sat at their table at the library, he felt like the wait for her had been broken down into each separate millisecond. It was torture on his stomach, his heartbeat pulsing and fluttering in and out of it.

After what felt like decades, Aelin sat down across from him. "Hey Rowan," She smiled at him. In all the time they'd spent together, he had learned all her different smiles. There were the ones that curled at the left side of her mouth and made her shoulders pull back arrogantly. She was sure to start teasing him when her smile pulled slowly, eyes glinting mischievously. When she smiled like that, he couldn't help but grin himself.

But this smile, the one that was pure happiness, simple joy, it was his favorite. She looked at him from across the table and her eyes gleamed with it, sparkling, the shades of turquoise and gold even more vibrant. Aelin furrowed her brows and he realized he'd been staring.

"Happy birthday!" Rowan blurted out.

Aelin's brows rose and she laughed into that beautiful smile of hers and he was knocked breathless again. "Thank you, Rowan."

He reached over into his bag and pulled out the flat black box. "I got you- I don't know if- I figured-"

"Thank you, Rowan," She said again, smiling wider and coming to his side of the table and kneeling next to him so she was just a bit shorter. "Now let me see what's in her."

She traced her fingers over the box, her smile growing softer. "I love your handwriting, you know. I know you think it's messy, and it is, but it's the pretty kind of messy, you know?" She looked over at him and blushed a little. "I love your handwriting." She traced the five letters of her name written in his scrawl again.

And then Aelin opened the box, and she gasped a little. It was simple, he knew that, but most of Aelin's necklaces were, to his notice. It was something she'd be able to wear with most outfits. She pulled the gold chain out of the crushed velveteen it was laid on and looked closer at the turquoise gemstone pendant.

"I- The color, it reminded me of your eyes, so you know..." He trailed off.

She turned to look at him. "I love it, Rowan," and Aelin threw her arms around his neck, red lipstick blurring in the quickness. It was his raging pulse, it was a fiery inferno, it was his urge to kiss her. She was so near, so close to him, lavender and lemon verbena intoxicating him.

And why not? There was nothing to lose.

He pulled back from where his head was pressed to her neck, arms holding her tightly. Rowan wasn't sure whether he moved first or she did. But their mouths were upon each other, softer than he'd thought he would kiss her. But it was soft, it was sweet, it was everything he had wanted to do after sitting across from her all year long.

When Aelin pulled back from his mouth, she huffed a little laugh and rubbed his lips lightly with her thumb. “You’ve got lipstick on your lips now.” She smiled, pressing her forehead into his neck.

Holding her against his body, red lipstick smudged against his lips, standing in the school library, Rowan had never felt so calm. So warm. So happy. And he realized, with a desperate suddenness, he loved the girl in his arms.

“I love you.” He whispered against her hair. And it was peaceful.

[andithiel]

I've been feeling a bit detatched from my writing lately, but I wanted to do something for Harry's birthday. So I managed to get out 2k of, I think maybe fluff? Many thanks to @booktopusmunro for the speedy beta and encouragement ❤️ Happy birthday Harry! Sidenote: Sega Mega Drive was called Sega Genesis in the US. This fic is loosely based on a scene from the Friends episode “The One Where Rachel Finds Out”.

Start Level

“Everybody! Hey, everybody, settle down! It’s time for Harry to open his presents!”

Ron’s sonoroused voice made Harry wince as he sat cross-legged in his favourite squishy armchair. A belly full of birthday cake and the comfort of  his friends surrounding him made Harry sleepy; but as he watched them all scramble to get seated as close to him as possible, a warmth rose in his chest. Ron had, of course, already sat down on the sofa closest to Harry before he made the announcement, but at Harry’s single raised eyebrow he shrugged with a crooked grin.

Harry snorted. He knew that with five older brothers, it was inevitable that Ron knew how to get to the front first. He looked around the room, trying not to tear up at the sight of all his friends gathered around, sitting on each other’s laps or perched on tables and armrests, all looking expectedly at him.

“Oh dear, what’s wrong with him?” Pansy stage-whispered to Hermione.

“Nothing,” said Harry, to let Hermione off the hook. “I’m just happy to get to spend my birthday with the people I love.”

Well, all except one, he thought. Draco hadn’t been able to get out of his work shift, and Harry refused to admit how disappointed he’d been when he’d found out about that, because it wasn’t reasonable for him to be. It wasn’t as if he expected Draco to be around all the time now just because they were sort of friends, or at least hung out in the same friend circles. But still, it wasn’t every day you turned 25 and wanted to celebrate with the people you cared most about.

Harry accepted the gift that Ron handed to him with a smile and a “Happy birthday, mate.” He tore the wrappings off to reveal a set of Wizards Chess. At Harry’s puzzled expression Ron explained. “Well, since you lost your old set I thought I’d give you a new one so we can play again!”

“Right,” Harry said with a tight smile, not mentioning that he knew damn well where his old set was (buried deep in a box in his attic because he was sick of losing to Ron all the time). “Thanks,” he managed to grind out, hoping it sounded sincere.

The rest under the cut or on ao3

“Maybe this one will be more useful,” said Blaise, as he handed Harry a thick, heavy parcel.

“Thanks Blaise!” Harry turned the package in his hands. “Hmmm, it feels like a book. Pretty sure it’s a book.” He unwrapped it. “And it’s a book! It’s— oh.”

“What, Harry?” Luna straightened up a bit to try and get a look.

“Um, nothing,” said Harry, trying to hide the Kama Sutra for Beginners behind his back. “Nothing, it’s, uh, I’ll have a closer look at this later.”

Blaise smirked and Harry whipped his head around to the stack of gifts next to him, wanting to occupy his mind with something other than the writhing bodies on the cover of the book currently taking up all the space in his head. “Who’s this from?” He picked up a big box wrapped in black paper with little golden snitches on it and a big golden bow on top.

“Oh that’s Draco’s,” said Pansy. “I promised I’d give it to you since he couldn’t make it today.”

“Right, right. Thanks Pansy,” Harry mumbled as he carefully peeled the tape from the paper, both so he wouldn’t tear it and so he could busy himself with the task instead of thinking about how Draco was holed up in St Mungo’s on Harry’s birthday.

He finally managed to get all the tape off and unwrapped the gift slowly. The sight of the box made him let out a gush of air, unable to believe that this was really real. Had Draco actually bought him—?

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione, trying to lean in closer to see what was in the box.

“I can’t—” Harry began, before swallowing and starting over. “I can’t believe he remembered.”

“What? What is it?” came a collective query from the group, everyone edging closer now.

Carefully, Harry opened the box to see if the content really matched the exterior, and when he’d made sure it really did, he had to pause again to blink repeatedly against the sting in his eyes. Then he picked up the black plastic box, twisting it in his hands. The room was silent, probably because few of them knew what this was.

“It’s a Muggle video game,” Harry tried to explain. “It’s… It must’ve been weeks ago, months maybe. We passed a Muggle second-hand store and I saw this and I… I made some throwaway comment about how Dudley used to have one of these but I was never allowed to play.” He stroked his thumb over the white letters forming the words “Mega Drive SEGA”, while memories of how he’d desperately wanted to play resurfaced in his mind. This console, like so many others before and after it, had not lasted long in the Dursley household. Before Harry had had any chance at trying it out, Dudley had stomped on it after the umpteenth attempt of getting past Dr. Eggman in the Oil Ocean Zone.

“Oh,” said Hermione softly in his ear, making him realise how close she was. “I remember these! Never had one myself but I sometimes played on my friend’s.”

Harry couldn’t stop staring. It wasn’t an extravagant gift, money-wise, but the thoughtfulness and the effort it must have taken Draco to find this for him was astounding. The game was almost mint condition. Draco must’ve gone back to the store to get a better look, and then found it in another store, because the one they’d seen had been old and battered. The gift made something stir in Harry, something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for even now.

“Oh, come on, remember when Draco went to Healer school and he fell in love with Keith Hendricks and bought him that ridiculously expensive non-spatter cauldron?” Ron chortled on Harry’s other side.

The room fell quiet and it took a few seconds for Ron’s words to process in Harry’s brain. He snapped his eyes up, looking sharply at Ron, whose ears had gone bright red.

“What did you just say?”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he gave Pansy, who was staring at him with a thunderous expression, a panicked look. “Uh…” said Ron, then cleared his throat several times while shrinking into the sofa. “Er… huh… ummm, non-spatter cauldron?”

“No. No, no,” said Harry, trying to wrap his head around Ron’s words. “The um, the ‘love’ part?”

Ron was now spluttering, frantically looking around the room for any sort of help from someone, and that was enough for the truth to register in Harry’s brain.

“Oh. My. God,” was all he managed to get out.

“Oh, noooo nononononono,” Ron chanted, rubbing his temples. “Noooo, I’m such a lousy friend!”

“I cannot believe this is the first time I hear about this!” Pansy snapped. “And to think that Draco confided in you, of all people!”

Ron straightened up and threw her a sharp look. “Hey! The ferret and I have a very trusting and mature friendship!”

“Yes, clearly he did the right thing trusting you with this information!” Pansy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s not like I’ve told anyone else! I’ve even kept it from my own wife!”

“Oh, bravo, Weasel, ten points to Gryffindor.” Pansy inclined her head in Ron’s direction and clapped her hands in mock applause. “And then you chose this moment to spill the beans, very clever. I’ll have you know that I’ve kept it a secret that he had a crush on Potter back at Hogw—” she said, but interrupted herself. “Er, nevermind.”

Harry felt like he was watching a ping pong match, his mind reeling at all this information. Draco’d had a crush on him at Hogwarts? And now he was in love with him?

“Aha!” Ron shouted triumphantly. “Who’s the bad friend now?”

“Can the two of you shut the fuck up?!” Harry said, surprised at his own words and the force behind them. “I need to think.”

“Yes! Yes, give the poor man some space to think!” Ron hastily said, his expression amix of relieved and frantic.

But before Harry had time to properly panic, the door opened.

“Well, I had to bribe Healer Merriweather by taking all her night shifts for a month, but at least I managed to get here,” said Draco as he stepped inside, impeccably dressed as ever. “Please tell me I haven’t missed the cake.” He paused in front of the doorway, looking around the room, all eyes turned on him. “What? What happened? Is there something on my shirt?” He started patting himself all over, looking for a non-existing stain.

Harry could only stare at him, at the way his hair fell into his eyes and how he had to constantly flick his head to keep it away. The flush on his cheeks from apparently having rushed from the hospital, just to be able to celebrate Harry’s birthday because he knew how important it was to him. Or maybe because he’d seen how disappointed Harry’d been when Draco’d told him he wouldn’t be able to make it and now he‘d wanted to make it up to him. The care with which he had selected a present for Harry just to make him happy. There was a swooping sensation in Harry’s stomach, and suddenly his mouth started speaking before he could stop himself.

“You’re in love with me?”

Draco froze, his eyes widening comically before flitting around the room to finally land on Ron, who seemed to try to make himself a permanent part of Harry’s sofa. After a split second, Draco leaned back into the hallway, not meeting Harry’s eyes once. “Wait, what’s that? Oh, no! I see Head Healer Patel’s patronus, oh this can’t be good, I really must be off.”

He turned around and bolted for the door, but with the reflexes of a seeker, Harry apparated into the hallway, right in front of the stairs.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, more like a statement now, or maybe a confirmation to himself.

Draco folded his arms across his chest, lifting his chin. “I have no idea what gave you that impression, Potter, but—”

“Ron told me. Or, well, to be fair he accidentally let it slip.”

“Weasel,” Draco hissed. “I should’ve known it was unwise to get drunk with him. That red-headed buffoon act is a great cover to trick people into trusting him with—”

He didn’t get any further, because right then, Harry decided that he needed to do what he did best: use his gut. And his gut told him that he was pants with words, especially compared to Draco. And he wanted to make Draco stop talking, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to Draco’s. It was probably the most chaste kiss he’d ever experienced, and yet it gave his stomach that funny swooping feeling again. Draco made a funny sound, like a mix of a squeak and a sharp inhale, and Harry realised that maybe this wasn’t what Draco wanted and started to pull back. But then he was thoroughly proven wrong when Draco grabbed him by the collar and pushed him backwards until they hit the opposite wall. Harry gasped when his head thumped against it, and then again when Draco opened his mouth and really kissed him, hands still fisted in Harry’s shirt.

It was the kind of kiss that, had they not been in Harry’s hallway, it would’ve led to other things. Harry’s body responded immediately, and he desperately wanted more. But their frantic snogging came to an abrupt halt when they suddenly realised they weren’t alone anymore.

“Oh,” someone said softly, and Harry didn’t need to look to know it was Luna.

Then someone (who sounded a lot like Pansy) shouted “What?” and there was the unmistakable sound of all their friends rushing to get to Harry’s front door first, then someone else (definitely Ron) yelled, “I don't need to see that!”

Harry kept his gaze firmly on Draco, cheeks gone pink and lips wonderfully kiss-swollen.

“Let’s go to your place, yeah?”

Draco nodded, eyes bright, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. Harry couldn’t wait to suck it into his mouth again.

“Right, hang on for one second,” Harry said, fishing out his wand from his pocket. “Accio Draco’s present!” With a spark of satisfaction he heard Blaise mutter “Ow!” when the box undoubtedly smacked into his head as it zoomed towards Harry’s outstretched hand.

But just as he was about to catch it, Draco cast a Depulso, making the game fly towards Luna, who caught it with an expression of curiosity as she twisted it in her hands.

“I’m very happy that you like your present so much, but trust me, Harry,” Draco murmured into his ear, “there won’t be time for any video games when I get you alone.”

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 12

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 2,200

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 18 parts total.

—

It was still dark out when Dynamene arrived at the temple. Dawn was just breaking over the horizon, the ocean calm. Still soaking wet from head to toe, she left puddles of water with each trudge up the sizable hill where the temple overlooked the sea. She had never been to a human temple before. It was less grand than she had imagined, though still tall and stately. It was impressive as far as human architecture went, she supposed.

She entered hesitantly, feeling almost embarrassed to be tracking water into a sacred, if humble, place. In the room at the center of the temple stood Aphrodite's cult image. It was roughly life-sized and hewn from wood, with a delicate cloth draping it modestly. Dynamene suppressed a smile when she saw it; it was much less curvaceous and delicate looking than the real goddess. She approached it gingerly, not sure what to do next.

Most humans that came to temples to ask something of the gods brought an offering, she knew, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to present. She was entirely empty-handed, save for the thin chiton she wore and her treasured bracelet, neither of which she was about to part with.

After a few minutes of pondering, the answer came to her - Aphrodite was the goddess of beauty, too, not just love. Dynamene's hands went to her two braids. Would she accept her hair as an offering...? Surely there was little more a woman could give in way of sacrificing her beauty.

She picked up a sharp seashell from the altar and aligned it with the base of the first braid, against her neck, and took a deep breath. Her hair had been long her whole life, but it would grow back, right?

Before she could even make the first cut, there was a deafening clap, and she was surrounded by white light.

When the light cleared, she was no longer standing in the dim inner room of the temple. A strange burning sensation lingered on her skin before quickly subsiding. Dynamene hesitantly lifted her head.

She was in a vast room with golden floors and roses of every color climbing the frescoed walls. A giant fountain, several times her height, stood ahead to her right. It bubbled and gurgled merrily, the white foam so bright that she could hardly look at it. A handful of small cherubs tended to bunches of pristine lilies that floated serenely in the bottom pool. And to her left, reclining on a golden couch inlaid with diamonds and pearls, was a statuesque woman with golden waves and wide eyes.

"My, you weren't really going to cut your hair, were you?" Aphrodite cried, staring at Dynamene with alarm. "I may be the goddess of love as well as beauty, but I'll let you in on a secret - no woman should sacrifice her looks for a man."

Dynamene immediately turned red. "I... I apologize." She tucked the shell away awkwardly into the fold of her chiton. "Um, where am I?"

"You're at my palace, on Mount Olympus," Aphrodite proclaimed. She smiled at Dynamene and tilted her head. "I've been waiting so long to speak with you. Come, sit!"

Mount Olympus?! Dynamene had been here before on a few occasions to accompany Poseidon as part of his court, but only to the common grounds. Each of the twelve Olympians had their own estate and palace that they designed and furnished to their liking, most filled with opulence and treasure that lesser beings could barely dream of. To think that she should now find herself in one was incredible.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A couch that matched her own appeared next to Dynamene, as well as a table with cups and a jug of some mysterious liquid. "You must be famished. You've had quite the journey; sit, sit!"

How could she know that? Dynamene settled nervously onto the couch and smoothed the bottom of her dress. She was all too aware of how bedraggled she must look, especially in such an exquisite place. The upholstery became dotted with dark spots of water from her damp hair.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers, and Dynamene's clothes and hair dried in an instant. "There we are. More comfortable?"

"Um, yes, thank you." Dynamene touched the bottom of her braid in amazement. The jug on the table before her poured itself into her cup, and she brought it to her mouth with both hands. Something incredibly sweet and steaming hot flowed into her lips.

"That's nectar. Careful you don't drink too much, it'll cause indigestion. Now then, you've called upon me for help," Aphrodite beamed and moved upright, crossing her legs. "I'm overjoyed, to say the least." She rested her chin elegantly on the thumb and pointer finger of one hand.

"You are?" Dynamene felt completely lost.

"Yes! I've been following your adventure ever since things began to really heat up a few weeks ago. Your birthday, to be precise. How exciting! I haven't seen a love story this gripping in centuries."

Dynamene almost dropped her cup. "Following me?! Do you mean you've seen everything that's happened since then?"

"Well, the juicy bits, yes. As the goddess of love, I can tune in on any love affair or infatuation I desire. Most are a bit boring, nowadays. But you... Your feelings for Poseidon... It's such a delight! What a turn of events! I'm quite invested." Aphrodite giggled.

Dynamene's face continued to burn red. "I... I don't understand."

Aphrodite sighed and leaned back once more. "Ah, Poseidon... such an enigma. Such a tall, dark, and handsome man... Such an incredible body... But such a wretched personality."

Dynamene flinched.

"He really is a delight to look at, though, isn't he?" Aphrodite sighed, her gaze turning dreamy. "There was a time when I thought I might add him to my body count... But his stifling demeanor quickly dispersed that idea from my head. Such a foul attitude."

Dynamene felt a different kind of heat rise up from her neck to her ears, and her gaze narrowed before she could hide her feelings. Aphrodite laughed in response.

"Oh, don't worry! I'd never touch him now; such a cold fish. Not the type to be a considerate lover, at any rate. An ice statue of a man," she scoffed. Her gaze moved back to Dynamene with curiosity. "But you love him anyway!" Aphrodite leaned forward once more, her eyes wide.

Dynamene stared at her lap, completely overwhelmed. "I... I do." Her voice sounded so small, even to herself.

"Tell me about it! How did it happen? What was it that made you fall for him? I want to know everything!"

"Um..." Dynamene swallowed hard. She could see him clearly in her mind's eye; that piercing gaze and chiseled body. She remembered the way his body had shadowed hers in the dark on the beach. What was it...

Aphrodite smirked, as if she knew exactly what Dynamene was thinking. "Yes, handsome, that much is a give-in. But what else? There has to be something drawing you to him."

"Well..." Dynamene racked her brain. "He's incredibly powerful, and smart. He knows his realm so well..."

"That's a start, I suppose," Aphrodite clicked her tongue. "But men like that are a dime-a-dozen. And that won't keep you warm at night."

"What?" Although Dynamene had no idea what she was getting at, she had the feeling it was something rather uncouth.

"Oh, I apologize. You're a virgin, right? You're inexperienced in these matters." Aphrodite took a dainty sip from her own cup. "Those qualities are all nice and fine, but there's nothing romantic or passionate about them. Not things that really light the flame of love, as it were."

Dynamene was silent for a moment, staring at her hands. She thought of the way he'd spoken with her on the beach, and the way he'd gone out of his way to show her the wonderful things he saw underwater. "He shared his power with me... He used it to show me all the things he could sense in the ocean. It was amazing, and so nice. He held my hand... and I didn't want him to let go."

"So that's it!" Aphrodite said triumphantly. "He made you feel special. He gave you a glimpse of something he's never shown anyone else."

Dynamene smiled wistfully. "And then, he promised me another bracelet... He's never given me anything besides on my birthday. It must mean something. He's never done that for anyone before."

"The frigid tyrant is finally thawing," Aphrodite pondered, swishing her cup. "Maybe he won't spend eternity a virgin, after all," she snickered.

Wait... Does she mean me and him...? Dynamene hid her face in her hands. Oh, no. This is too much. What am I doing here?!

"So he is getting sweet on you, then." Aphrodite threw her head back in laughter. "Oh, I can't believe it; that a day like this would come! It's too much."

"Well... not sweet, exactly, but..." Dynamene rubbed her arm.

"Not sweet?" Aphrodite rose one eyebrow. "He didn't kill you when he had the opportunity. That's quite the gesture of fondness for him, really."

Dynamene blinked, struck speechless.

"Now, then," Aphrodite continued, her voice taking on a more business-like tone. "As far as directly helping you, there's little I can offer. Poseidon would have my head if he ever found out I was interfering in his love life, and that wouldn't do." She sighed rather theatrically.

"Oh." Dynamene's shoulders sank. Then it was all for nothing.

"But..." Aphrodite continued with a mischievous smile. "That doesn't mean I can't point you in the direction of someone who can help you. I've heard through the grapevine that there's a witch not far from Poseidon's estate who does spell work for those who are willing to pay the price. She lives in one of the deepest undersea trenches. I'm sure she'd be happy to strike a deal with you."

"A witch?" Dynamene had misgivings about this immediately. Witches didn't exactly enjoy the highest of praises within the Greek pantheon's society. "Aren't a lot of them shady?"

"They are. But you're clever enough, and there's no guarantee that this witch will be as seedy as the rest. Just keep your wits about you. All you need is something to convince him to make a commitment to you. I understand Hera gave you a blessing during her latest visit."

Dynamene remembered the gilded pomegranate. "She did."

"Something about a guaranteed happy union, correct? She told me about it. There's your ticket to a happy ending; you just need to secure the union in the first place."

Dynamene smiled. "You're right. It was very kind of Hera to give me a blessing. I was so surprised."

"She didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart," Aphrodite sighed, giving her curls a shake.

Dynamene's smile froze. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm..." Aphrodite puffed her cheeks, weighing her next words. "I'll let you in on a little insider's secret: she wants Poseidon married to force a crack in his armor."

Dynamene stared at her. "Pardon? His armor?"

"If Poseidon gets married and has a family, he'll have a weak spot. Hera knows that Poseidon is feared more than Zeus, and she loathes the possibility of him holding more influence. She wants to have a way to keep Poseidon in line. That's why she gave you that pomegranate." Aphrodite shook her head, wrapping a curl of hair idly about one finger.

Dynamene's head was spinning as she tried to put two and two together. "But... the blessing would be useless to her purpose unless she knew that one of us liked the other. So how...?"

Aphrodite giggled mischievously and gave Dynamene a wink. "I guess I'm not always the best secret keeper myself."

Dynamene stared at her, aghast. Hera would use me as a tool to get to Poseidon? Her eyes darted back and forth anxiously. I'm so stupid. Of course she wouldn't give a random blessing like that out of kindness; that's not how the Olympians usually function.

"Don't fret too much, dear Dynamene." Aphrodite's eyes darkened above her smile. "It doesn't really matter what the future after your union holds; not how miserable of a man Poseidon is, or what your relationship turns out to be. If you marry him while holding that blessing, you'll be happy no matter what your situation is."

Dynamene's gaze searched the goddess's face. Why did it seem like Aphrodite's expression was almost one of pity?

Happy... even if I shouldn't be?

"Rest assured, I am rooting for you, little Nereid. Now go; I'll send you near the witch's home. Or, at least where I think it is." The goddess of beauty shrugged her delicate shoulders.

White light enveloped Dynamene once more, and she braced herself. Before Aphrodite's palace disappeared, she heard the goddess call out one last time: "In exchange, I expect to be the first to know about your wedding night!"

---

Author’s notes:

Did you know, when I started this fanfiction, I planned it to be 4 parts and about 9000 words?

I am now past 32000. Help me.

Things are coming to a head, stay tuned.

[harpyloon]

“ginny, i always want to sleep with you” // hinny

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley

W.C: 2.5k+

Summary: Harry Potter is always a blubbering mess when it comes to Ginerva Weasley.

Warnings: pure fluff! sprinkles of angsty angst, squint and you’ll find mentions of war/battle and death. everybody lives AU!

A/N: A fic written for the @harryandginuary Ginuary gift challenge. Happy Ginuary @/gins-potter​ 😍😍😍I hope you ENJOY!!!

Read on AO3

Harry didn't think this through.

After defeating the Dark Lord and winning a wizarding war, he assumed he'd never have to think about anything ever again—at least not for a while. But gazing at her small blinking dot for almost half a year on a rotten piece of parchment apparently made him delusional, because at the moment—months after the battle of Hogwarts—sitting in the kitchen at the Burrow, his longing stare almost bore a hole through Ginny Weasley's face.

His Ginny.

Wincing to himself, Harry prodded on the peas in his plate. His subconscious when it came to Ginny was his greatest enemy and his biggest embarrassment. If anyone even came close to guessing what kind of dreams he had when it came to her... well... He breathed away the flush threatening to creep up his neck.

"More peas, Harry dear?"

Mrs. Weasley peered at him from the head of the table, a frown on her freckled face, "You've hardly eaten anything. Don't think I've noticed how skinny you've been getting again. I'd be having a word with Alastor about your Auror training. Ever since he got back he's been more insufferable—"

Snatching the dish of treacle tart in front of him, Harry filled his plate with a slice.

"I'm up for dessert now actually, Mrs. Weasley, thanks."

This seemed to satisfy her well enough. "Well, I whipped that up just for you so eat up."

He felt a nudge on his knee as Ron leaned in to whisper once Mrs. Weasley was out of earshot, "Save me some, will you? She goes barmy when we touch your treacle tart."

Harry smiled and nodded. Meals at the Burrow he was used to but he knew he'd never get tired of. His Auror training held him back a ton of weekends in the past few months, and being home felt splendid. Of course, he was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but Harry hoped Mr. & Mrs. Weasley knew how grateful he was.

Risking a glance across the table once again, Harry saw Ginny serving herself second helpings of mash. Her favorite, Harry thought. He remembered her hating Madame Pudifoodt's Tea Shop for its lack of savory spreads, the one time they attempted a visit during his sixth year. It ended up turning into a laugh as she snorted at all the snogging instead of actually drinking tea.

"So this is your kind of place, huh?" Ginny teased as she sifted through the menu.

Harry blushed, "Er—you don't like it? I kind of reckoned girls like this place..."

He chuckled nervously as she gave him a pointed look.

"Really, Potter?"

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he snatched the menu away from her, already standing.

"Three Broomsticks then?"

He knew he'd buy her all the Butterbeers in the world for the smile he earned.

A foot prodded Harry back to the present.

"What, Ron?" he grumbled.

Ron frowned at him. "What'd you mean 'what'"?

"You just—"

Someone coughed loudly across from them.

Both turning, they saw Ginny heaving over her mash, a fist in her mouth. Fred was rubbing her back soothingly beside her.

Harry blinked. It was her. She kicked him.

"Alright there, Gin?" Fred mused. "I told you to take it easy on the potatoes, you crazy woman."

"Do the Harpies know what kind of stomach they'll be feeding once they sign you in?" said George. "I bet you they'll break a sweat once they find out your appetite."

Ginny threw George a withering look after downing a glass of water. "Don't jinx it, you idiot."

"Have you heard back yet, Gin?" Ron asked over a mouth full of pudding.

"More like they haven't heard from Ginny," chuckled Hermione.

All the Weasley brothers gaped. Even Harry.

"What?" sputtered George, "You're making the Holyhead Harpies wait?"

The youngest Weasley scoffed. "I'm not making anyone wait. I was just standing by for the holidays before I give a reply."

"Well, it's the holidays now."

Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry's gut clenched. The mad part of his brain loved it when she did that.

"I am well aware," she said, "If you all are so eager, does anyone want to take my place then?"

Her brothers merely grumbled while Hermione laughed. It's been the talk of the town for a while now, after Ginny received a letter from the Harpies a few months after the beginning of her seventh year. The whole house went completely ballistic, even Hogwarts as well—or so Harry heard.

It took a month to bury the dead from battle and a whole summer to rebuild Hogwarts from the rubble; the Ministry was still in the process of rehabilitation, and the whole wizarding community was yet to heal, licking the wounds that Voldemort left behind. Ginny's Quidditch scouting was the first good news they'd received in a long time.

He didn't get back together with Ginny after the war, and there was no reunion like he'd always imagined in those long nights without her, in search for the Horcruxes. It wasn't as if they both avoided it, there just wasn't any time—time to talk, time alone, time for anything. Everyone had their hands full following the battle, and when things started to fall back into place, they've simply slipped through each other's fingers; Ginny whisked away by the Hogwarts Express, and Harry to the Ministry to begin his training as an Auror.

He considered moving on, especially on days when he'd think about her roaming the halls of Hogwarts, her fiery red hair blazing after her. She'd find someone, he thought bitterly. If she hasn't already.

But they'd written to each other, sparingly, although they did still. Short snippets of their day, what they ate for breakfast, the new set of professors at school, Mad-Eye's torturous lessons; Harry was the first person outside the castle to find out about her Harpies letter.

He caught her eye from across the table and she raised a brow at him as if to say What, Potter?

Chuckling under his breath, Harry shook his head and tapped the bowl of uneaten mash beside his plate. He saved it for her.

Ginny's gaze landed on it and her face lit up. If Harry didn't know any better, her hair seemed to glow even redder. His imagination loved to exaggerate his visuals when it came to her.

He felt a tiny poke on his toe as if to warn him not to react violently—she gave him a look and he pursed his lips, looking back down at his peas and moving them around once again. Then slowly, an ankle wrapped itself around one of his own and rested there.

Harry exhaled slowly, willing his pulse to calm.

He was not over Ginny Weasley at all. Not one bit.

 ----------✿----------

Creeping quietly down the steps, Harry tried his best to avoid the noisy floorboards (that he still didn't memorize to save his life). His two best friends didn't mention anything, but he knew they wanted some alone time. And he certainly didn't want to be around once the candles dimmed and Ron and Hermione started making eyes at each other.

He was almost at the first landing when the door to his left creaked open.

"Hermione?"

"Sorry. It’s me."

Ginny opened the door wider, gazing up at Harry, her face bemused. She was dressed for bed. "They kicked you out already?"

Laughing quietly, he said, “You know they’d never. I volunteered.”

She smiled knowingly. “Of course you did. Well, come on in then.”

Harry stared at her retreating form, clearly confused.

In? In where? In her room? Just the two of them?

Ginny disappeared inside but the door remained open.

Should he knock and ask her what she meant? Should he just go inside? It's not like he hasn't before.

Suddenly, the most recent memory of Ginny's room flashed through his consciousness—his 17th birthday.

"Something to remember me by."

Harry's ears grew hot. He refused to let that specific recollection surface when he wasn't alone, or in the confines of his own quarters. It made his brain go fuzzy.

"Harry?" he heard Ginny's faint voice from inside, then footsteps. She appeared by the door once again. When she saw his face, her brows furrowed. "What happened?"

Harry attempted to clear his throat without sounding like a retching toad. "Er—I'm—" he was sure his face was now as red as her hair, "I was going to take the couch actually," he managed weakly.

"The couch," Ginny said flatly.

He swallowed. "Y-yeah. Downstairs."

The silence was deafening and it stretched on for minutes. Or at least that's what it felt like in Harry's rowdy head. He needed to meditate. Merlin. He was losing it.

Finally, she said, "Okay. Goodnight then."

She gave him a strained smile then quietly shut the door before he could reply.

Harry stood there, mouth hanging open slightly.

Ginny Weasley just invited him inside her bedroom and he refused. He refused. Of all the things in the world that made him a blubbering idiot, it was his best friend's little sister. He always seemed to be dumbfounded whenever she was in the vicinity of his space.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself as he descended the stairs, no longer bothering to mask his footsteps. "Idiot, idiot, idiot."

Harry sulked his way to the living room, his mood most definitely dismal. Girls were a nightmare. He had no idea how their brains ever worked and every time he felt like he finally had a grasp at a situation, he was suddenly ten steps back.

He waved his wand mindlessly over the Weasley's tweed couch and leaned by the fireplace as he watched it transform into a small sofa bed.

Would he wake anyone if he flooed Sirius at this hour? He knew his godfather would still be up at Grimmauld Place, and would doubtlessly jinx him between the eyes if he found out what Harry had just done.

"You're just like James," he heard Sirius' voice say in his head. He never seemed to let this fact go, even when he knew that Harry was well aware of how he was a spitting image of his father. Sirius especially loved to point this out when it came to matters about Ginny.

"Dad actually ended up with Mum didn't he, Sirius," Harry growled under his breath as he settled on his makeshift bed, patting his pillow down with more force than necessary. He was in the mood for a petty fight and he wished his godfather was around for one.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps thumping down the stairs. Harry jostled into a sleeping position at once and took off his glasses, planting himself still in the awful case that Mrs. Weasley found him huddled on their living room couch. She wouldn't have the heart to wake him would she? He didn't want her causing a scene with Ron and Hermione. Harry tried as best as he could to look as wasted as possible, even attempting at a snore.

The footsteps came nearer, and he felt them stop by the door of the living room. He tried to even his breathing.

"Really?"

His eyes shot open.

Sitting up suddenly, he found Ginny standing by the doorway, her arms crossed. Only the dim moonlight illuminated the room, and Harry had to squint before he remembered he took off his glasses. His hands fumbled as he perched them back on, his eyes meeting Ginny's vexed gaze.

"Ginny," he said lamely.

"Are you seeing someone?"

"What?"

Her hair glowed in the dark space, like a warm halo around her head.

"You heard me."

Harry's pulse seemed to be skyrocketing. "Seeing someone? I don— no. No. I'm not seeing anybody at all."

Ginny looked skeptical. "Right."

Almost tripping over his own slippers, Harry barely managed to scramble to his feet in front of the only girl who plagued his dreams. He wanted to embrace her. Could he do that? Was he allowed to, still?

"Ginerva," he was breathless. "You have no idea..." Harry tried to calm his racing heart. Just get the words out, idiot. "You have no idea how much I think about you."

Her eyes gave nothing away as she looked up at him, and only her crossed arms kept the space between them. Harry saw tendrils of her hair stir as he exhaled. He wanted to kiss her.

When she said nothing, he lifted his hand experimentally, waiting for her to flinch or back away. Not sensing rejection yet, Harry trailed his fingers through the wisps of hair by her ear. He could smell her. He held himself from inhaling too deeply.

"Different shampoo?" he murmured.

Ginny sniffed, "Mum tried a different witch brand."

"Hmmm. Jasmine was my favorite."

She rolled her eyes. "I know."

Harry threaded his fingers through her hair, brushing her scalp now, and Ginny leaned into his touch.

He smiled. "But I like this one too."

"We should just share shampoos."

"Good idea."

They were silent for a moment. Just listening to each other breathing while Harry combed his fingers through Ginny's soft hair. The ends were still damp, he noticed.

"I missed you," she said suddenly, quietly. Her eyes were roaming all over his face as if gauging his reaction.

"I missed you too."

"But you don't want to sleep with me."

Harry's cheeks turned pink in the dark as he breathed out a laughed. "Ginny, I always want to sleep with you."

"I meant sleep sleep, you perv!" she pinched his stomach.

Trying to stifle his chuckle so as not to wake the rest of the house, he drew her in, finally bracketing her in his arms. "Ah, well, I mean that too, I guess."

Ginny huffed but melted with his touch. "I will have you know that I've turned down suitors for you, Harry Potter. So if you won't stake your claim, then I'd better take one of them up on their offers."

Harry's gaze narrowed. "Will you, now?"

"Watch me. Apparently, I'm quite popular with the Hufflepuffs—"

He leaned in lightning-quick, aiming for her luscious mouth. She expected it because her eyes closed in instinct, waiting for him to seal the connection. But Harry hovered. He felt the feathered touch of her lips on his but he stayed there, eyes open—trailing over her closed lids, the bridge of her nose, and the aggressive spread of freckles over the expanse of her cheeks.

"May I kiss you?" he asked against her lips.

Ginny's eyes blinked open but she didn't pull away. "Since when have you started asking?"

Harry was glad they were so close that she wouldn't be able to see his neck flush. "Since I let you go once."

This time, she did pull away, but only a tiny fraction. Just enough for him to witness her wrinkle her nose. "So saving the world has made you a complete sap."

She was teasing.

He shrugged, but grinned sheepishly nonetheless, "For you, yeah. I always have been though, haven't I?"

Twirling her arms around his neck and brushing her fingers through his unruly hair, Ginny pressed herself against Harry fully, her face shining with emotion.

"Then snog the living daylights out of me, Harry Potter."

[robinrunsfiction]

It’s A Love Story - Part 5

Part 4

“Is everyone ready to go?” Gerard called to his bandmates as he closed the back of the van. It was the afternoon of the battle of the bands, and a nervous excitement was running through all of them.

“Let’s go!” Frank cheered as everyone started piling into the vehicle, but (YN) lingered back.

“Oh nooo, we have to sit together,” she smirked as Bob and Mikey got into the furthest back row of seats. Ray already riding shotgun, even though he was next to useless with a map.

“Damn,” he replied with a smile as they got into the middle row.

The van was an early Christmas/birthday/graduation present for Gerard from their grandparents. Even though they weren’t going to be at the battle of the bands, they fully supported their grandsons’ dreams, and after a few emphatic dinner table discussions, they agreed to buy the band something to get around in, on the condition that all of the boys get their high school diplomas.

“Do you know where we’re goin?” Bob shouted from the back after they’d been driving what felt like forever.

“We passed that sign like three times now,” Frank chimed in.

“Yea, we just gotta go north and then… wait, no! This is the exit! Take this exit!” Ray shouted as Gerard swerved to catch the exit ramp at the last possible second. Shouts and grumbles of annoyance came from all passengers as they held on for dear life.

“Oh shut up,” Gerard said, glancing back.

“Gee! Brake!” Ray shouted, pulling Gerard’s attention back to the traffic they were about to crash into.

Gerard slammed on the brakes just before he slammed into the station wagon ahead of them and Frank threw his arm out protectively in front of (YN). As Gerard sat rattled in the driver’s seat, Ray glanced back to check on the bandmates. That’s when (YN) realized that his eyes were transfixed on where Frank’s hand had ended up on her knee. She froze, not knowing what to do.

“Everybody good?” Ray asked, still seeming to be focused on the other guitarist.

“You guys good?” (YN) asked turning to Mikey and Bob behind them, in hopes it would pull Ray’s attention away from what Frank was doing. That’s when she caught Frank’s eye. She glanced down at his hand before nodding slightly toward Ray. Frank’s eyes went wide as he snatched his hand away.

“Close one,” (YN) whispered to Frank when they were back on their way.

“Sorry,” he winced.

“It’s fine,” she smiled.

When they finally arrived at the venue hosting the competition, they were given a schedule of when they’d go on, as well as a table where they could sell merch, meet the other bands, as well as any potential fans. (YN) set up the box of CDs that had been recorded in the garage, and arranged the shirts that she’d designed and felt her nerves starting to build. She hoped the competition would go well for the guys, which would drive people to look at the merch. If her shirts were liked well enough that fans would buy them, it would prove to the guys that she could be a help to My Chem and she could remain involved.

The guys were one of the first bands to perform that evening, and to say they crushed it would be an understatement. The crowd was in a frenzy, and as soon as they were done a ton of the spectators came over and bought merch. That’s when (YN) noticed the girls lingering off to the side, watching the guys talk to their new fans. Once the crowd dissipated, they swooped in.

“Hey,” the first girl purred, grinning at Gerard. “My name’s Veronica, and I just wanted to say you guys were really amazing up there.”

(YN) tried to keep from obviously rolling her eyes as the girls blatantly flirted with her brothers and friends. However, she was pulled from her thoughts when she heard one of the other girls ask if they’d ever consider dating a fan of the band.

Frank smirked and shot (YN) a glance. "Only if she'd been a fan from like day one, ya know? Like very clearly not just into me because of the band."

"Oh," the girl pouted.

"I mean, I'd be cool dating a fan!" Ray chimed in.

That's when an idea popped into (YN)'s head. "Hey Gee," she said, getting her brother's attention and pulling him away from the group.

"What’s up?" 

(YN) had to do her best not to start laughing at her evil idea. “I don’t think you should be talking to these girls.”

“Wait, why not?” He asked, clearly confused.

“I see the way they’re looking at you and I can imagine what they’re thinking and it’s gross. They’re just interested because they wanna get with a band member, they aren’t actually interested in you as a person, and I’d really hate for you to get a reputation in the scene,” she smirked.

Gerard opened and closed his mouth a few times, speechless. “Not fair!” He finally blurted out.

“I'm just looking out for you,” she grinned evilly before he rolled his eyes and marched off.

After the remaining bands played, the judges deliberated, and the MC eventually returned to the stage to announce the winners. The crowd didn't go as crazy for any band as they did for My Chem, so (YN) had a good feeling, but she was nervous anyway. The third, and then second place winners were announced and then MC called for a drumroll before announcing the winner.

"And in first place," the MC paused for dramatic effect and (YN) thought her heart was gonna pound out of her chest. "My Chemical Romance!"

(YN) screamed with delight as everyone started to hug each other in celebration. Frank turned to her and she wanted to grab him and kiss him, but she could only smile before they ran up on stage. The MC handed them a trophy as the other bands came up to congratulate them.

A few more people came up to buy what was left of their makeshift merch, and (YN) imagined what kind of real merch they’d be able to make with the prize money. When everything was gone, she picked up the empty boxes and followed the venue’s instructions on where to dump them out back. A few people were lingering around the back of the venue, smoking, talking, or loading up vans, but she didn't recognize anyone until Frank stepped out the backdoor. Letting out a squeal of delight, she ran over to him, unable to hold back any longer.

"Oh my god that was amazing!" She said, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her up in a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks babe!" He grinned as he returned her to her feet and kissed her hard, the adrenaline of the show, and winning still coursing through him. (YN) leaned into the kiss without a second thought.

"What the fuck?!" The shout cut through the cold late autumn night.

(YN) and Frank immediately jumped apart, as Gerard stalked toward them from where he’d been loading the van, with Mikey close behind. The other people who had been lingering around all turned to watch the unfolding scene.

"Frank, I thought of all the guys in school I could trust not to go after my sister, it would be you!" Gerard snapped, his finger in Frank’s face.

(YN) felt her blood start to boil. "Gerard! Stop it!” She snapped, pushing his hand away from Frank and stepping in between them. "God, this is so stupid! I love Frank! We're together and he has been nothing but sweet and kind and respectful and if I wanna keep dating him, then I’m gonna! Besides, you know Frank, you know he’s a good guy who isn’t gonna take advantage of me, or spread rumors, or anything else you’re scared of happening. Like who else could you possibly want me to date?”

Both Mikey and Gerard seemed to soften at her words, as silence hung between them. “You’re right,” Mikey finally conceded with a shrug before turning to Frank. “I’ve known you forever, and trust you to be good to (YN).”

“Thanks man,” Frank replied, relief evident in his tone.

"You love him?" Gerard asked, still hesitant.

"Yep," she nodded, still defiant.

"And you really love (YN)?" Gerard asked Frank.

"More than you can imagine."

Gerard nodded, considering his words. “Fine. But if she tells us you ever do anything to upset or hurt her,” Gerard started, his finger back in Frank’s face.

“You’ll kick my ass, I know,” Frank nodded, his hands up in defense.

“No, I’ll help (YN) kick your ass,” Gerard smirked. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Mikey and Gerard made their way back toward the van, but (YN) and Frank lingered behind.

(YN) turned and grinned at Frank before burying her face against his neck. “Oh my god! It happened, it finally happened! Life just got so much easier,” she laughed. "I don't think I've ever felt so relieved!"

"I’m just so happy that I can tell everyone how much I love you,” he grinned when she pulled back.

Just then Ray came out the back door that they were standing next to, guitar case in hand. The look on his face when he saw Frank’s hands on (YN) waist made (YN) immediately start giggling. 

“Wha- what the hell is this?!” He asked, clearly confused.

“Remember that girlfriend that Tucker ratted me out for having a couple months ago?” Frank asked.

“Yea?”

“Hi,” (YN) grinned as she waved at him.

“But Gerard said-”

“Doesn’t matter,” (YN) cut him off.

“No stupid rules could keep me from being in love with (YN),” Frank said, almost more to (YN) than to Ray, as he pulled her closer. 

She grinned at him, before leaning in and kissing him hard. She could have sworn she heard Ray muttering about being the last to know everything, but she didn’t care. Everything had finally turned around for her, and she didn’t have to hide her love for Frank ever again.

[spkothdvldotmp3]

so remember last july when i thought to myself, "haha, wouldn't it be cool if i made a mechsona?"

well, turns out a year of living with that thought in the back of your head will only get you 4,977 nearly 5,000 words of backstory and a spotify playlist, so, solid 7/10 experience

(okay look, Day 2 of the Mechtober prompts was the most coincidentally perfect overlap of "Mechsona" and "Blood," so I finally decided to stop being a coward and actually let people who aren't my classmates see this. ALSO, quick warnings for violence and death, if you're a bit squeamish about those sorts of things. So, with that said, the story itself...)

Introducing!

La Vie en Rouge

Dear Reader:

In this strange world, so bright and so bold

You may, somehow, find a Tale Yet Untold

You could read one now, if you so choose

This Tale- of the Blood-Red Dancing Shoes.

It had started like any other day. And not even an interesting kind of “any other day,” like a Saturday, which always promises adventure, or a Thursday, which has a tendency towards mystery. No, this was a Tuesday kind of “any other day,” which merely meant inescapable boredom.

At the very least, that’s how it started.

However, as Adeline Troffea was leaving her house, she heard the trumpets that signaled Lord Vitus’ arrival. She groaned. A visit from Vitus- sorry, His Most Esteemed Lord Vitus, she snorted as she mentally corrected herself- never went well. He was a deeply unpleasant person to be around, as he looked like a spoiled child and acted twice as bad. Additionally, he was usually about two seconds away from screaming nonsensically at any townsfolk who bothered him, like some sort of Saturday-morning-cartoon villain. Sometimes Adeline was sure he must be doing it on purpose- his ridiculous moustache (twirled oh-so-carefully at the ends), his pale skin and delicate hands (that had clearly never done anything harder than gesture dramatically from the shade provided by his servants), the too-fine crowns and jewels and capes his draped himself in (who even needed more than one crown? Isn’t that too excessive, even for Vitus?)- he couldn’t be for real, right?

Reader, Lord Vitus would prove himself to be more real than Adeline could imagine before this story’s end. But we’ll get to that in time.

Hopefully, Adeline thought to herself, walking down the well-trodden path into town, I can be in and out of the market before Vitus takes a single dainty step out of his carriage. Fabien, her best friend (practically an older brother, really) as well as the town’s shoemaker, had promised her something special today- an early birthday present, he had called it the day before, as the birthday in question was “an entire week and a day away” and he didn’t know if his “poor, old heart” would hold out that long.

“Fabien, you’re barely 30!” she had protested, shaking her head.

“I know, Addie, I’m ancient!” he’d moaned, before adopting the affectation of what was probably supposed to sound like an old man, but instead sounded more like a wheezing duck. “I can feel my brittle bones crackin’. They ain’t what they used to be, I tell ya. You know, when I was just a boy, I had to walk to school every day? Uphill! In the snow!”

“Both ways!” Adeline joined in before they both dissolved into laughter.

So now, here she was, in front of Fabien’s shop, feet tapping on the ground in a sort of nervous excitement. Gingerly, she opened the door.

“Hello?” she called. The response came from somewhere in the back of the shop.

“Ah, Addie! What a surprise! What sort of thing-that-I-totally-don’t-know-about brings you here today?”

She rolled her eyes as she began to make her way through the shelves and around the cobbling stations to the back of the building. “You know, it’s a funny story actually, but my best friend- well, former best friend, I should say-” she was cut off by a sharp laugh as she turned the next corner and came face to face with Fabien, holding a beautiful red box.

“‘Former best friend?!’ Is that any way to treat someone who’s gotten you such a spectacular present?” he asked, schooling his face into an over exaggerated pout.

“It is if they’re going to be stupidabout it,” she replied, yanking the present from his hands with ease. Fabien made a wounded sound, and Adeline stuck her tongue out in response before opening the lid of the box.

Inside was the most beautiful pair of tap shoes Adeline had ever seen. The leather they were made of was white as freshly fallen snow, and the perfect balance between flexible and sturdy. She turned them over in her hand and gasped, brushing her finger over the engravings on the metal taps.

“Roses,” Fabien smiled softly, “because I know they’re your favorite.”

Overwhelmed, Adeline could only set the shoes aside for a moment and tackle Fabien in a hug. And for that one shining moment, everything was perfect.

“Oh, I simply must have these!” a haughty voice sang out behind Adeline, who jumped at the sudden noise. Standing there was none other than Lord Vitus himself, bedecked in his finest golden cape, and holding- oh no, absolutely not. Before she could even register her own movements, she yanked her shoes back.

“No, you simply mustn’t have these, actually,” she quipped in that same snooty tone, stuffing the shoes back in the box, before suddenly realizing what exactly she had done. Refusing the Lord? Taking things right out of his hands? Mocking him to his face? How could she possibly get out of this?

Clearly, there was only one answer.

She bolted.

She heard Vitus’ petulant cry of “After her!” ring out from behind, and then the heavy sound of soldiers’ footsteps, but she dared not look back. Instead, she ran harder, her mind racing almost as fast as her feet. There had to be someplace to hide. She turned a corner, onto a smaller side street. She couldn’t go home, it was too far away.She burst out onto another street before turning abruptly, one hand wrapping around a streetlamp to keep her momentum as she flew back where she’d just come from, the soldiers falling over themselves in their confused haste. But there were so many soldiers, and there was no way she could outrun them forever.

She ducked into a dark alley for a moment, throwing herself behind a couple of barrels just as the men appeared at the mouth of the alley. She held her breath as they hurried past her, trying not to catch their attention with her heaving gasps. And this is why I’m a dancer, not a runner, she thought, half delirious on a cocktail of exhaustion and adrenaline. Could it have been minutes? Hours? All the streets had blended together long ago, and her muscles ached with exertion. Unintentionally, she closed her eyes, just for a moment.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and Adeline’s blood turned to ice in her veins as her eyes shot open again. Her despairing cry was cut short as another hand covered her mouth. She shook her head wildly, terror taking over, before she caught the gaze of her captor.

Fabien.

Adeline felt her entire body sink back in relief with his appearance. Slowly and ever-so-softly, Fabien removed his hand from her mouth, making a shushing motion before Adeline could even open her mouth to ask what was going on. He carefully undid the buttons of his cloak, taking if off of himself and wrapping it around Adeline. It dangled loosely from her small frame, making her look even smaller. A disguise, she noted distantly, hiding in plain sight. Once he’d secured it around her shoulders, Fabien began to explain.

“Everyone’s pretty proud of you, you know, standing up to Vitus like that. I know you’ve always been a bit of a wildcard, but that was even better than expected. You should have seen his face when you ran, oh my-”

Adeline made a small noise of distress. She hadn’t been making a statement, she’d been making a mistake! It was all a big misunderstanding, and now she was going to be killed, or worse, and she hadn’t even had the chance to wear her beautiful birthday shoes, and-

Fabien shook her gently, murmuring comforts, and she took in a shuddering breath, focusing back on him.

“You’ve been brave enough today. Let me take a turn, okay?” he said softly, gesturing at the shoebox. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed it from her still shaking hands. In seconds, he had pried open the lid, taken the shoes out, and tucked them into the inside pockets of the cloak Adeline now wore, continuing to talk as he did so.

“The village has been giving Vitus the run-around all day, trying to keep him off your trail, and honestly, I’m not sure he’s noticed. That man is so far up his own ass that I genuinely think he can’t even comprehend the thought of people working against him.” Fabien smiled a bit as Adeline giggled weakly. “Just keep a low profile. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

For a moment, Adeline was so overcome with emotion that felt like her legs might give out underneath her. Instead, she threw herself forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, so much. For everything.”

Fabien squeezed her in return.

“Nothing to thank me for, Addie.”

It was at this moment the sound of soldiers came rushing back, hurling them both back into reality. In a flash, Fabien pulled the cloak’s hood up, casting Adeline’s face in shadow. He gave her a little push towards the other end of the alley, nodding reassuringly. Adeline took a deep breath, steeling herself, before walking, confidently as she could, back out onto the crowded street.

There were soldiers everywhere, knocking on doors, stopping bystanders and asking them about Adeline’s whereabouts. A customer just coming out of the bakery- Monsieur LeClair, she noted- was having one such conversation… if one could call “a man taking obnoxiously large bites out of a muffin and then speaking with his mouth full, spraying bits of food directly into the soldiers’ faces” a conversation. As the soldiers hurriedly excused themselves, disgustedly wiping the muffin bits from their faces, Monsieur LeClair caught Adeline’s eye and winked. She smiled and bowed her head in return before scurrying off again. As she made her way to the town square, she passed at least a dozen or so variations on this conversation- townsfolk left and right making excuses, even outright lying to the soldiers, distracting them long enough for Adeline to slip away, towards the town square.

Vitus was exactly where she thought he would be- right in the middle of the town square, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen (and all those who wouldn’t). She leaned against the brick wall of the closest building, trying to make herself look as small and unassuming as possible. She bit her lip as she thought through possible escape scenarios, keeping Vitus in her peripheral vision, right up until-

“We found the shoemaker, Your Lordship, but no sign of the girl or the shoes.”

Adeline felt her heart stop as her head turned on autopilot. A crowd had gathered in the square, following three figures that Adeline loathed to recognize as Fabien and Lord Vitus’ men. One soldier shoved Fabien down roughly, while another threw the shoebox down with such force that it popped open, revealing its empty inside.

Vitus rolled his eyes at Fabien, looking bored out of his mind. “Where are they?” he sighed.

“Where are what, My Lord?” Fabien asked through gritted teeth.

At this, Vitus seemed to revert to an overgrown toddler.

“My shoes! They were so very pretty and I wanted them, but that little wretch stole them from me and ran off and I want them baaaack!”

Fabien, still on his knees, snorted.

Vitus blinked, clearly surprised. Suddenly, another laugh joined in, and another, and another, and in seconds the entire crowd was laughing at this grown man’s tantrum. Even Adeline found herself giggling, albeit shakily.

It was as though Vitus had only just now realized what kind of a predicament he was in. No one was going to give up the shoes, or the girl, and to make matters worse, they weren’t going to take him seriously either. He glanced nervously around the crowd for a moment before his lip curled and his nose scrunched up, as though he had just smelled something particularly unpleasant. Standing to his full height, he raised his voice.

“You have one week to hand over the shoes! If you do not, there will be, shall we say… severe consequences.” He turned around dramatically, which reignited the snickering, and quickly made his way back to his carriage processional.

As the carriages rattled away, Adeline was struck by an idea. It was a bad idea, she knew, and probably too risky, but she had already defied the odds once today, and with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she felt unstoppable. She nimbly climbed to the roof of the nearest building to pay her respects, so to speak, waving in the direction of Vitus’ window. She ripped off her hood dramatically, snorting when Vitus’ face contorted in rage. And as her heart sang with love for her town and her people, her feet were helpless to dance along for all the world to see. From her perch on the roof, she watched the other townsfolk join her in celebration, dancing in their own little ways. Madame Beaumont lifted her son Jean into the air, spinning him around as he giggled. Michel Rousseau was doing a little shoulder shimmy. Even Old Lady Coralie was dancing a little two-step. Adeline beamed at them all before turning toward Fabien. Several people were still gathered around him, making sure he wasn’t too hurt, and Adeline almost climbed right back down to join them. But, as though he could sense her worry, Fabien looked up suddenly at met her eyes. He smiled at her before winking conspiratorially. Relief flooded through her as she winked back- a sign that everything was going to be okay, and one she believed wholeheartedly.

Just before she climbed back down to go home, she chanced a glance back at Vitus’ carriage. For a second Vitus met her eye, his glare an ice cold promise of revenge. Adeline shivered under the threat, before gathering herself just enough to make a rude gesture back at him. The distressed shriek that followed was music to her ears.

That pompous man-child had it coming anyway, Adeline thought, and resolved to put the matter out of her mind. Of course, Reader, it wasn’t so simple as that, but let it not be said that she didn’t try her best to hide her misgivings from everyone, even herself.

After what was probably too many hugs goodbye, even for her, Adeline finally made her way back home with her new shoes. The moment she closed her door, she slumped against it and slid down to the floor, exhausted and terrified. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the look in Vitus’ eyes as he took his leave. She was no fighter! She had no money, no strength, no prospects- no hope. How could she possibly try to stand up to the army Vitus would surely bring back with him? And she couldn’t- wouldn’t- put her people in danger like this, not after they’d already done so much for her. That’s it, she thought, rubbing her eyes, she would go right back to the village and work something out with everyone else, something to keep everyone safe and out of harm’s way before Vitus could return.

But as she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell upon the shoe box, lying on the floor beside her. The shoes themselves had tumbled out from her little outburst, and they almost seemed to be calling to her, begging her to at least try them on, to dance in them. And after so much trouble, how could she possibly refuse?

The shoes were a perfect fit- of course they were, they were literally made for her, she thought as she snickered a little under her breath. Watching herself carefully in the mirror, she raised her right foot ever so slightly before kicking it forward in a test shuffle. She smiled. The sound of metal against the waxed wood floor was perfection. Unable to help herself, she hummed a little tune, matching each note with another step- a cramp roll here, a paradiddle there, a set of triple time steps- she was in her element as she lost herself to the dance.

Dancing in the shoes filled her with such joy that she really could almost forget about the whole thing with Vitus. Adeline knew he wouldn’t take this lying down, and with his power and resources- she knew she had to be prepared. First thing in the morning, I promise I’ll figure out a plan, she reasoned. It’s not as though he could even attack tonight anyway.

So she danced and danced and danced, until the day finally caught up with her, and she quite abruptly fell asleep, not even bothering to take off her new shoes.

That night, Adeline had the strangest dream. She- no, the whole town, was dancing to song unlike any she’d heard before. It almost… hurt, in a way, to listen to, and yet she was sure it was the most beautiful melody she had ever heard. It felt as though it had wormed its way into her soul, her very existence, and intertwined itself so deeply that it might never leave. For a moment, Adeline felt fear, the likes of which she’d never known. She tried to wake herself up, to scream for to someone to help her, to do something, anything to stop this, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop-

And then Calm washed over her completely, every other thought and sensation lost to the ocean of the strange melody as it lulled her back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, it was to find that the song had followed her into the waking world. She knew something was wrong, but as she tried to figure it out, every thought was just out of reach. She stumbled out of her room, towards the front door, but her limbs felt almost disconnected from her, almost as if they were being of their own. She slammed face-first into the door, and, for a split second, the ringing of her ears overpowered the music enough to. I need… help, right, that was it, I need help because of…

Because of……

The music, the music, the music- it consumed her every thought. Every step and every breath taken in time with that exquisite, unending song. Every note whispered sweet nothings in her ear, asking, pleading, begging her to join them and become beautiful too, until she was helpless to resist any longer. Until finally, she began to dance.

And dance, dear Reader, she did.

She found herself completely at the mercy of the music as it maneuvered her around like a marionette. She was only vaguely aware that she had somehow made it to the town square, and that several of her concerned neighbors were trying to talk to her, but nothing could break through the haze of the music.

As the day went on and on, passersby occasionally stopped to try to rouse her from her state, all to no avail. It seemed there was no way to reach her, and as night fell, they stopped trying. The light of the moons illuminated her as she danced, and were it not for the sound of the metal in her shoes they might have assumed her some dark spirit. Perhaps some still did. But the fact remains that all the townsfolk, save one, eventually found their way to sleep, secure in their ignorance of the events to come.

The next morning, as the suns rose over the horizon, the people of Strasbourg woke to the sight of not one, but two figures dancing in the square. By breakfast, it had been made a dozen. By lunch, it was nearly half the town. And by 8:46 pm, on the dot, all 398 residents of Strasbourg had found themselves unwilling victims of the dance.

Reader, there are many things I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you that the dancing stopped just as strangely and suddenly as it began, and it became a scary story told for many generations. Or else, I wish I could tell you that the townsfolk found a way to weaponize their dancing and rose up against Lord Vitus, and discovered the cause of their dance- a machine of Vitus’ cruel creation, designed to transmit an almost imperceptible signal into the minds of those who heard it and drive them to madness. Picture it now, Reader: Vitus, stroking a gloved hand down the side of the machine as its whistles blew and the steam that rose from the spouts shrieked, the sound of his dastardly laughter barely audible over the chaos, until it was suddenly cut short by the doors to the hall as they opened with a BANG, and Vitus would finally come face to face with the consequences of his actions.

But more than all that, I wish I could tell you Adeline never remembered what happened as she danced. That for the seven days and seven nights that she danced in the town square, without food, without water, without rest, she was never aware of the fact that everyone she had ever known lay dead or dying at her feet.

None of these things are true, of course. The dance continued, the machine was not destroyed, and as the days passed Adeline slowly became more and more conscious. She watched, helpless, as all around her, her friends, her family, fell to the ground to dance no more. She yelled, screamed, pleaded to anyone who would listen, to anyone who could help- and the only response she got was the answering cries of her village, getting smaller and smaller.

By the sixth day of the village’s dance, there was only one other person still dancing beside her. It was Fabien, because of course it was Fabien- she didn’t know if this was supposed to be a blessing or a curse, though she was leaning heavily towards the latter. His steps had been slowing and his wheezing had increased exponentially in the past few hours, and Adeline knew what was coming, even if she couldn’t bear to say it aloud. Fabien, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I did warn you,” he rasped, after a coughing fit had nearly sent Adeline into a heart attack of her own, “That I wouldn’t make it to your birthday. My heart is just so-”

“God, shut up, please, for once in your life just shut up!” She screamed, her voice breaking. Her outburst seemed to shock him, and she turned away before she could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath before barreling on.

“Fabien, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry, I should have-” he made a sharp noise and she cut herself off, choking back a sob.

“Don’t you dare think, for even a moment, that this is your fault,” he whispered, sounding more serious than she had ever heard him. “We all made our own decisions, you and me and everyone else. This is not on you, even a little bit. It was my choice, and I would choose it in a million lifetimes, okay? I just-” Fabien dropped to his knees, gasping, legs shaking almost imperceptibly, and Adeline felt her heart shatter.

“Addie, I’m so sorry,” his every word sounding like it had been ripped from his throat, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

And with that, he, too, was gone, and Adeline’s last remaining hope had died with him.

Oh Reader, what could she do but cry? So she cried. She cried for Fabien, for Monsieur LeClair, for Madame Beaumont, for Michel Rousseau, for Old Lady Coralie, for every lost soul of Strasbourg, until only one remained- and only then did she cry for herself, dancing alone once more.

The tears still streamed down her face when Lord Vitus returned with only a small squadron the next day, a full week after Adeline’s dance had begun. Towering over them from atop his horse, Vitus called out to his men.

“Oh ho, what have we here? An entire village, destroyed by some sort of plague, it seems. What a tragic end… But look! It seems one still suffers. Let us put the poor thing out of its misery, shall we?”

The largest of their number stepped forward, an axe readied in his hands. An executioner, Adeline realized tiredly. He made his way towards her, gingerly maneuvering around the corpses littering the town square, and Adeline wished she still had the strength to huff out a laugh. To show respect for the dead, on the path to kill another? How utterly ridiculous! Without a sound, the executioner raised his axe above his head, and Adeline closed her eyes, prepared to meet her end.

“Wait!” Vitus’ whining cut through the air. “Bring her to me first! She has something of mine that I want back.”

The executioner shrugged, before lunging towards the unsuspecting Adeline and hefting her over his shoulder with a grunt. She struggled against him, as much as one can struggle with a body that refuses to stop dancing, but it made no difference- he was simply too strong. Within moments, she was set down before Lord Vitus.

“The shoes,” he demanded. “Hand them over.”

“Are you kidding me? All of this for some shoes?” Adeline whispered hoarsely. “Hundreds of people, an entire town, dead, because you couldn’t stand the thought of someone else wearing these stupid fucking shoes?”

Vitus sneered at her. “On the contrary- I’m killing you because of the ‘stupid fucking shoes,’ as you’ve so crassly called them. Everyone else was… shall we say, collateral damage.”

Adeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her village, her friends, her family- they weren’t even some kind of fucked-up punishment for her, to drive her mad with grief and guilt. They were just “collateral damage,” not even worth an afterthought in the mind of their murderer. Her rage boiled inside of her, and had Adeline been able, she would have killed the man herself just then.

“Oh no, look!” Vitus sounded so genuinely miserable that for a moment Adeline was taken aback. “You’ve gone and ruined them!”

She glanced down as Vitus gestured towards her shoes and saw it was indeed true. The once-pristine white was long gone; now the leather was completely stained through by her own blood.

Reader, do you know what she did then? Why, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed, Reader. She laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, all her frustration and sorrow and fear and anger and fatigue welling up from within her as she faced this utterly ridiculous man. She laughed. And as Vitus’ disappointment turned to shock, then to an angry pout, she laughed even harder. Even the dance, for a moment, seemed to laugh with her, each shuffle taking on the tone of ha-ha, ha-ha.

Finally, Vitus had had enough. He struck her, clean across the face, and for a moment, the laughter ceased as she gasped in pain.

“You know, I think they look better this way,” she drawled after catching her breath. “The red really brings out my eyes.”

Lord Vitus, clearly having expected Adeline to fall to her knees and grovel for forgiveness (fat chance, she thought, even if I hadn’t been cursed), puffed up like a particularly unpleasant frog as he spluttered through some sort of retort. Even his stupid moustache seemed to puff up with him, Adeline noticed in tired amusement, as he finally settled on, “W-W-Well, I never!”

He turned away from her sharply and caught the eye of the executioner. Adeline’s stomach dropped as Vitus’ face returned to that arrogant smile. He looked back at her, malice gleaming in his eyes, and addressed her once more.

“I do soapologize, it seems that I have forgotten myself for a moment. I am, however, fully prepared to make it up to you. You see, I do, in fact, possess the antidote to your little ‘Dancing Plague,’ as it were, and I would be delighted to offer you the cure.”

Adeline couldn’t see it, but as she felt movement at her back, she knew what was about to happen. In one final act of defiance, she spat at Vitus, who squealed as he tried, and failed, to avoid it. He huffed once more as she laughed at him, before screeching his final command.

“A PERMANENT CURE!”

And with that, Adeline felt pain explode in her legs, near blinding in its intensity. For a moment, a scream overpowered the music, and it took a moment longer to realize the scream was her own. She blinked though unnoticed tears to look up -when had she fallen- at Vitus, but she couldn’t quite focus on him -or anything else. She felt so -tired sick- dizzy, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and –die- rest. But the pain in her legs screamed for her attention, and as she dragged herself up, she realized why.

At its simplest, a cure is just a way to remove a problem. It doesn’t need to be as advanced as a vaccine, or as complicated as the witches’ remedies of old. In fact, Lord Vitus’ antidote was both exceedingly simple and remarkably effective.

The permanent cure for the Dancing Plague? Simply remove the problem.

Namely, the legs.

How strange, she thought, in that last moment of lucidity, as she stared at the legs- her legs- lying on the ground a few feet away. I almost expected them to keep dancing.

And with that, she fell, lifeless, to the ground.

But Reader- she did not die.

[vcg73]

FIC: Kurt Birthday Drabbles

Earlier this week @elledelajoie left a comment on something I wrote all the way back in 2014.  I had genuinely forgotten I ever started it, but the original idea was to write 21 Kurt Hummel birthday drabbles. I had written just 7 of them, but after we chatted about it, I decided to go ahead and finish.  

If you’re not familiar, a drabble is a scene of exactly 100 words, not counting title headers. Since Chris Colfer and Kurt Hummel’s co-birthday (May 27) is coming up this Thursday, here they are. This goes definite AU at Birthday #19. Because you know I would never sentence my beloved Kurt to a life of being a doormat to people who did not appreciate and value him.

Never underestimate the power of feedback!

~*~*~*~*~

Birthday #1

Kurt’s blue eyes went wide as a frosted cupcake was set upon his high-chair tray, a single candle ablaze on its surface.  

When Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Andy, Grandpa Curtis and Grandma Eileen started singing to him, he smiled and clapped both hands hard around the tempting pile of frosting.

Kurt laughed when the sugary topping went flying and a big splatter of white abruptly decorated Daddy’s surprised face.

Everyone else started laughed too, including the startled father, who retaliated by giving his birthday boy a sticky peck on the cheek and then helped him to blow out a new candle.

Birthday #2

Kurt looked between his presents, confused.

Mommy had given him the pretty dolly he had begged for at the store. Daddy had given him a truck, not big enough to ride but too big to live with the little cars Daddy gave him at Christmas.

His parents seemed to be mad at each other.

Kurt looked at the doll, then at the truck. He smiled and placed Dolly inside the truck and began to drive her around the carpet.

Mommy and Daddy seemed surprised by his actions, but then they laughed, and Kurt knew he had figured out the puzzle.

 Birthday #3

His shoes were black and shiny, buckles on the sides and 1-inch heels on the base. He clomped over the hardwood floors, listening to the click-tap-click-tap in delight. They went perfectly with his dove gray coveralls with “Kurt” sewn on the pocket in black sequins. Mommy had made the outfit for him.

Spotting Daddy watching him, Kurt threw himself into waiting arms. Daddy’s smile looked like he had an owie but was trying to be a big boy and not cry.

Kurt hugged him. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Burt looked surprised but hugged him back. “Yeah, buddy. I think it is.”

 Birthday #4

Ballet girls were nice. When they heard it was his birthday today, they threw him a party. Kurt puffed up with pleasure when presented with cookies, a sparkly wand and a tiara that read ‘Happy Birthday’ in shiny letters. He was not as fond of the kisses they gave, but four was very grown up, so he screwed up his face and allowed it. The teacher even let him wear the special puffy pink tutu over his little black leotard! 

 He saw Mommy and Daddy up in the gallery taking pictures, so he waved.

Kurt hoped today would last forever.

  Birthday #5

“Can I have cupcakes?”

Kurt’s mother looked up from her book. “I don’t think we have any, sweetheart.”

“Can we have some Thursday?  My birthday is the last day of preschool.”

“It is?” she said, looking surprised. “Is it your birthday already?”

He nodded seriously. “Don’t you remember, Mommy? You were there.”

She laughed. “Well, you have me there.  What kind of cupcakes would you like, sweetie? And don’t say cheesecake. Those are two completely different kinds of dessert.”

Kurt’s hopeful expression fell. “Oh,” he said, clearly disappointed. Then his face brightened again. “Chocolate?”

She nodded. “That we can do.”

   Birthday #6

“Daddy!”

Burt sat up just in time to catch the little body that launched at him. “What’s wrong, slugger?”

“It’s my birthday!”

Grinning despite the way his heart was hammering at the abrupt awakening, Burt asked, “Yeah? I like birthdays. Do I get a present?”

“No,” the boy scoffed. “I get presents!”

 Burt squinted at the clock. 3:15am. “Not until morning, you don’t.”

Kurt pouted and tried, “It’s almost morning.”

“Not close enough, kid. C’mere,” Burt pulled him into the warm bed between himself and his wife.

Kurt snuggled down and went right back to sleep.  

Burt was less lucky.

 Birthday #7

Kids had started treating him funny this year. He was too fancy, too girly, holding hands was weird.

Nobody was coming.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Am I too late?”

They jumped as a little black girl with pom-pom hair popped out of nowhere.

“I’m Mercedes,” she greeted. “We just moved here. Mom said you would have invited me if you’d known.”

“I’m Kurt.” He smiled. “Do you like tea parties?”

“Is there cake?”

Mrs. Hummel beamed. “Cake, ice cream, and Kool-Aid.”

Kurt shrugged. “Nobody else came.”

She grabbed his hand like she’d known him forever. “More for us!  Happy Birthday, Kurt.”

 Birthday #8

Kurt took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and carefully blew out the candles. All but the extra one that his parents always put on his cake.

“Aren’t you gonna finish, bud?”

He looked from Daddy over to his mother, home again, but so frail he was sometimes afraid to hug her, worried she might pop like a fragile soap bubble. He offered her the candle. “Here, Mommy. Blow it out. Maybe you’ll get another year to grow on.”

The eyes of the two adults met, then Mommy nodded. The three of them blew out the final candle together.

 Birthday #9

Barely daring to hope, Kurt came down the stairs.  Birthday cakes and presents had been Mommy’s specialty.  Daddy had forgotten his own birthday and had nearly forgotten Christmas.

Kurt gasped when he saw it, waiting, shining and spectacular against the front door.

“A bike!”

Bright green, sissy bars with foil streamers, and a banana seat. Perfect!

Burt smiled. He had scoffed a such a “girly” bike when Kurt spotted it at the toy store. But now, looking at the all-too-rare joy in his son’s eyes and feeling the approving smile his wife would have given, he nodded. It was perfect.

 Birthday #10

Buying gifts was tough when your kid always clammed up on you. A dad had to be observant.

Ten years old. A landmark like that needed something special, but the only thing Kurt seemed into was clothes. He had enough of those for ten kids.  

He’d probably like a Barbie he could change in and out of different outfits, but Burt cringed at the thought.

He did doodle pretty good though. Sure, it was mostly pictures of clothes, but that was a start.

A fancy sketchpad with a case and a hundred different colored pencils. Yeah, that was the ticket.

 Birthday #11

“Dad, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Kurt sighed with exaggerated impatience. He had come home from school to find Dad waiting at the truck, ordering him to get in, then not saying another word. The suspense was killing him.

“Ta-Dahhhh!”

They had pulled up in front of a nondescript brick building. “Columbus Culinary Arts?”

“You like to cook right?  Well, we’re gonna fix your birthday dinner this year with the help of a real chef. Lessons are once a week for the next couple months.”

Gourmet cooking lessons!

“Oh wow. Dad, this is amazing!”

Burt grinned. “Happy Birthday, kid.”

 Birthday #12

Last year’s surprise had gone so well that Burt had decided on a repeat. But when he saw the excitement on Kurt’s face at finding a pair of tickets inside his birthday card turn to disappointment and horror, quickly masked with a fake smile, he knew he’d goofed.

“I know baseball isn’t your thing,” he said, almost pleading. “But you’ve never seen a live game before. It’s a whole different experience. It’s a home game. We can yell and scream, and cheer our team on with thousands of other fans.”

The stiff not-smile never wavered. “Sounds . . . fun.”

 Birthday #13

Dad had bought out one of the partners at the garage this spring and now owned a majority share of the renamed “Hummel Tires & Lube”. Kurt wanted to snicker at that name, but he was proud too.

His birthday this year coincided with Friday Night Dinner. Dad had invited all the mechanics over for a potluck. They’d had Mary’s special fried chicken, Cassius’s homemade cornbread, and Davy’s mac’n’cheese. Now Dad brought out the cake.

Kurt laughed. A sheet-cake with a tow-truck and two little plastic mechanics for decoration.

“You and me kid. Partners.”

The mechanics cheered and everybody dug in.

  Birthday #14

Kurt froze when he saw tickets peeping out of his card. Not again. Noise, sunburn, unhealthy food, tacky uniforms, and Dad trying so hard to make a boring sport seem like fun.

He sighed and pasted on a smile, which quickly transformed into shock.

“Wicked?” he squeaked, staring hard at the little papers as if the printing might change if he dared to look away.

“Embassy Theater is giving regional business owners a discount this year,” Burt said apologetically. “It’s just a traveling production, not real Broadway, but I …”

His apology was cut off by a joyful teenaged hug.

 Birthday #15

“Don’t worry, son, you got this.  Just remember everything I taught you.  You got a whole year to get ready for the practical test.”

“I know.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time. Not everybody does.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re through.”

“I know that, Dad. I’ll be okay, really.”

At that moment, Kurt’s name was called and he sprang from his hard green plastic chair. His dad’s repeated reassurances were making him jumpy.

Twenty minutes later, a brightly grinning Kurt was waving his freshly minted driver’s permit.

 Birthday #16

Burt patted the giant blue bow the dealership had provided over the hood of the shining black Lincoln Navigator.  

Kurt was gonna flip! He’d passed his DMV test with flying colors and was no doubt showing off his shiny new license to all his friends at school.  

He paused. Did Kurt have any friends to share this accomplishment with? He always seemed so alone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to spoil his son with a huge birthday gift.

It wasn’t right for such a good kid to be all alone. Maybe having his own ride would help change that.

  Birthday #17

A dozen teens gathered in Kurt’s basement to celebrate the end-of-school, non-disbanding of Glee, and Kurt’s birthday, all in one.

“Not like ten years ago,” Mercedes said to Kurt, as they watched Mike and Brittany dance.

“Ten years?”

“Your seventh? It was just you, me, your mom, and lots of chocolate cake.”

Kurt was astounded. “That was you?”

“You forgot?”

“I remember a little girl who showed up and invited herself to my party.”

“And I remember a little boy who needed a friend as much as I did.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

She squeezed back. “Always.”

 Birthday #18

Kurt stared at his birthday cake, unable to think of anything to wish for.

He was 18-years-old today, a legal adult. He had new family in Carole and Finn, his dad was on the mend, he would be back at McKinley for senior year, he had made his first visit to New York City, and he had a boyfriend! One who had just told Kurt that he loved him for the very first time.

‘I wish for next year to be as good as this,” he thought, taking a deep breath and blowing.

The flames flickered out, all except one.

 Birthday #19

Senior year had been a disaster, and now he had not gotten into NYADA, despite his well-praised audition.

“Blaine wants me to spend another year here,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Burt’s callused hand squeezed his neck. “Then don’t. You’re 19 now, a man. You got talents galore, work experience from the garage, enough drive for ten kids, and your mom’s life insurance money to give you a start.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Burt said firmly. “You go on to New York and grab life by the balls.”

Kurt felt his optimism rise. “Help me look for apartments?”

“You got it.”

 Birthday #20

What a difference a year made.

He’d dumped Blaine after being cheated on less than a month after leaving Lima.  He was enrolled at FIT and sharing a shoebox apartment with a fellow design student and a Broadway hopeful, but both were young gay men from small towns, and they had a lot in common.

“Happy Birthday!” Elliott shouted, tossing a handful of glittery sequins at him.

Adam came in playing the birthday song on a kazoo he had gotten from who-knows-where. “Ready for Callbacks? $20 on who gets the first hot guy’s number!”

“I already have yours. I win!”

 Birthday #21

“I have the honor of presenting your first official grown-up drink,” Adam said, smiling lovingly at his grinning boyfriend of nearly a year. He set down a martini glass with a cherry floating on top. “A Manhattan seemed appropriate.”

Kurt beamed and gave him a kiss, then took an experimental sip. “I’ve had alcohol before,” he admitted. “Mostly wine, though.  Mm, this is good!”

“I thought you’d like it. Happy Birthday, my love.  May the future bring every good thing you wish for, and never more heartache than you can handle.”

Kurt could not have asked for a better sentiment.

THE END

[anjuschiffer]

Following the Unknown

Okay, so sometime ago, I wrote something up about another soulmate au that was inspired from a dream I had (and for some reason I can’t find it in my archives...f* you Tumblr! And if anyone remembers what I’m talking about, think you can send me a link? Cuz I can’t find it QQ).

So the AU concept went something like this:

Some people know they have soulmates because they can hear their soulmate’s voice. If you’re lucky enough, you can actually see them, or rather their silhouette in the form of a swarm of leaves, that trail away once your soulmate stops talking to you. These leaves fly off and sometimes if you chase them, lead you to your soulmate. However, if they go on, that means that your soulmate isn’t close. Some people have feathers as guides, however, those who have seen these feathers and followed them are guaranteed to see their soulmates...but only at the brink of death. People dread to have feathers guide them to their soulmate, despite their gold color. 

The only con of this soulmate bond is that only those with the bond can see the glowing white leaves, no one else can see the leaves but those with that type of bond. 

And I haven’t touched the au until I was listening to Into the Unknown...

With that explanation out of the way, I hope you enjoy it!

------

Song: Into the Unknown by Idina Menzel | Daminette Soulmate Au

Context: Damian is 17 years old, never once telling anyone he had a soulmate bond. Mari is 16, her soulmate bond appearing that very year, something she always wanted, but hated that it was at the worst time to receive a bond. After all, defeating Hawkmoth was her top priority.

------

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak​ @damianette-is-life​

------

AO3

------

Damian stirred in his bed, a whisper ringing in his ears. Attempting to block them out, Damian wrapped his pillow over his head, his knuckles turning white as he did so.

Damian threw the pillow to the side, wincing at the voice that echoed within his head. Struggling to get up, Damian quickly drew out his sketchbook, flipping to the back of it. There, a meticulously set of dates were written and organized, a tip of a quill meeting the page, Damian writing down a new date.

Ever since his 16th birthday, he had been having these effects, a voice whispered to him. 

It was soft, soothing, but annoying all at the same time. 

Hello. It would whisper. Can you hear me?

I can hear you but I won't.

Of course he was able to. It bothered him to the ends of the Earth, causing him to become distracted at school and during patrols.

He regretted ever answering back to them after they kept trying to contact them for four solid months.

With that single response, he had been able to hear the voice clearer, causing the noise to grow stronger, something that Damian hated. 

Because of it, his grades slowly slipped, but Damian had managed to keep them up. Patrol, however, was another story. 

He kept getting a scolding from his father and brother, causing his mood to sour even more. 

He already had a pretty shitty sleep schedule and the noise just made it worse. 

He would awaken at random times during the middle of the night, ranging from one in the morning to four. He rarely got them at five and six, but nonetheless had them then as well. 

Ignore your whispers which I wish would go away

Damian got back to bed, hoping to fall back to sleep as he heard the noise stay with him. Damian didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, but he did, nonetheless when the noise had whispered to him. 

Sorry.

And the voice remained quiet for the remainder of the night.

------

“-and only one in every three million have this type of soulmate bond.” Damian paused the video, writing something down in his notepad, circling the new piece of information.

The Wind Bond.

A bond that those who had it describe it to be like a wind itself.

It caused you to hear the voice of your soulmate, ever so softly heard like a midsummer breeze. 

The soulmate’s voice would only grow stronger if they were close by.

Those who had a romantic version of the bond would also see their soulmate’s silhouette in the form of leaves, scattering into the air if you managed to see it. 

However, only the people with the bond were able to see and hear their soulmate.

It was also because of this that people called it the Wind Bond; many only faintly heard the voice of their soulmate and almost never got to ingrain the silhouette of their soulmate, causing them to lose all hope in ever seeing their soulmate.

It was hard to catch, hard to believe, just like the wind.

As Damian tapped in pencil against the table, the noise returned, Damian dropping his pencil to cradle his head.

You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear.

With shaky hands, Damian reached for the headphones laying on his desk.

Damian paired them to his phone and put music to drown the noise, his shoulders relaxing when he could no longer hear it.

I'm sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls.

Damian looked at what he had written, huffing at the paper. 

Why would he ever believe in this?

Soulmates?

Damian ripped the paper and tossed them into his metal trash can. Seeing that all of the pieces were inside, Damian opened his desk drawer, rummaging through it until his hand found a small rectangular-like item. 

Flicking the lighter, Damian took the final piece of his ‘research’ and lit it on fire, tossing it in with the rest, watching as smoke rose from the can.

Soulmates…

Why would he ever think he had one?

Even if he did have one, he shouldn’t care.

They were unnecessary, a hindrance to him…

At least his mother and grandfather told him. 

As he watched the last ember die, Damian went back to studying, the ringing fading from his mind.

------

Damian’s eyes widened as his eyes caught the thing behind him. 

He had just gotten past the manor’s gates when he heard someone call out to him.

Turning, Damian found a girl made of softly glowing bluebell leaves.

He watched as they soon scattered into the air, Damian taking a step forward before going into a sprint.

He had the Wind Bond. And the romantic type at that.

Romance…

Love…

Chasing…

Damian quickly came to a stop, watching as the leaves finally left his view.

I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you

Damian didn’t know for how long he was standing at where he was, but when he was done accepting what had happened to him, he let out a long deep sigh.

A soulmate, huh?

He would just have to try his best to ignore it.

------

Damian dug his nails into his hands, the noise coming back inside his head, and at the worst possible time.

What do you want? 

He was busy trying to concentrate on the math problem in front of him, the clock ticking as his professor reminded the class of the time constraint.

“There’s ten minutes left!”

Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?

No

Damian wanted to scoff at the answer, racking everything he learned to solve the integration before him. It was the only thing left, but for some reason he just couldn’t seem to figure it out.

Just breath.

He did.

Recheck your fourth to last step. That’s where-

“Five minutes!”

Damian quickly rescanned his work for the twentieth time, finally noticing where he had gone wrong. Reworking that step, Damian began to internally grin as he confidently finished the rest, smiling when he placed his pencil down and the professor called time.

Damian hated to admit it, but was glad to be able to hear her voice clearly this time around.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, Damian quickly walking out to get to it.

Thank you. 

------

“-I simply did what I had to do!” Damian yelled, a snarl present on his face.

“You endangered the civilians inside the building!” Dick yelled, throwing a glare at Bruce. “And you allowed him to-”

“It was necessary for the mission.” Bruce simply stated, walking out the cave, leaving Dick with his feelings.

“I thought you had changed B!” Dick yelled, grabbing his coat. “Seems like you haven’t.”

Damian watched as Dick left, wanting to call him back, but knew that he shouldn’t. Instead, he went off to his own room, heading straight to the shower to get rid of the sweat that made his shirt cling to his body as if it were a second skin.

As he stood under the steaming hot water, Damian pondered to himself.

While he always held his father in high regards, Damian struggled to follow his standards, finding himself to lean more towards Dick’s. Who was right? Who did he have to follow? To please? Who’s standard should he even begin to follow?

Neither.

But he had to.

But don’t you already have your own set?

He did.

Then follow it.

Damian pursed his lips, turning off the water.

Why should he follow his own instead of one laid out before him?

Because if you try to meet the standards someone placed for you, you’re going to burn out quicker. You will start to lose yourself. Believe me. I’ve been there and hated it. Every. Second. 

Damian kept wondering about the words the voice told him, catching the resentment behind them. 

Despite having lived under the same roof as his father and older brother for seven years, Damian could still measure the tension between themselves. The air was suffocating, made his breathing heavy and felt off.

Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

They did mention having to choose a decision and regretting it.

They had been through it…

Was it when he told them to take the ring from the other person she was fighting with?

If so, were they once like him? Did they once have these unwanted thoughts? Thoughts of fleeing?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

Damian shook his head, throwing himself onto his bed, Titus laying beside him. 

As he laid in bed, Damian closed his eyes, replaying the day he stopped chasing the bluebell leaves.

Damian found himself reaching towards the ceiling, grabbing one of the leaves. He watched as the bluebell turned red before it slipped out of his hand.

Damian quickly chased after it, stopping as he reached the edge of the manor’s garden, watching as the red leaf turned bluebell once more and disappeared into the distance.

His hand reached out in an attempt to grab it again, despite knowing it was futile. 

Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go 

Into the unknown

------

Are you out there?

“-you alright Bugaboo?” Ladybug blinked as she registered what Chat had said, finally facing him after scanning their surroundings. “Is there something-”

“You didn’t hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Chat asked, tilting his head, his ear twitching in anticipation.

Marinette looked to her side once again, wondering what the hell was happening to her.

Migraine? No, definitely not. 

“Do you really-” Ladybug was about to ask, only to get interrupted by Chat.

“Seems like you can do it with a day off.” Chat said with a grin, twirling his baton. “You know, maybe a date at-”

Marinette zoned out Chat’s voice, wondering what was going on. She swore she had heard someone call out to her, a smooth voice that sent chills down her spine. But despite that, she felt curiosity behind that whisper.

“-and who knows? We might find out that we’re actually-”

“Soulmate.”

“You mean soulmates.” Chat tried to correct, watching as Ladybug’s face pale. “Bugaboo. What-”

“My soulmate bond.” She whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “I got my soulmate b-”

“Does that mean-!”

“No.” Ladybug said, sternly looking at Chat. “We’re not soulmates.”

“How are yo-”

“When I asked if you heard that, you said no.” 

“And what does that-”

“My soulmate bond has to do with hearing each other’s voices. Our thoughts.” Ladybug watched as Chat’s smile dropped, his eyes turning dull. “You’re not my- Chaton!” Marinette yelled out as Chat ran away from her, using his baton to launch himself to who knows where.

Sighing, Marinette called off her transformation, Tikki flying up to Marinette’s cheek. “Why now? Why now of all times?”

“I wish I had the answer to that Marinette, but even we have no knowledge on how soulmate bonds are assigned and given. If we did-”

“I always wanted a soulmate bond.” Marinette confessed, Tikki giving her a small smile. “But to think I would get one right now, with Hawkmoth-”

“It’s going to be alright Marinette.” Tikki assured, snuggling closer. “It’s going to be alright, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right Tikki. I really hope you are right.” Marinette said, embracing Tikki in her own way.

------

Do you know me?

Or rather do you remember me?

Marinette had not heard back from her soulmate in a solid month, wondering what was going on. 

Was it just a fluke?

“I don’t think so.” Tikki said, munching on a cookie. “While we may not know everything about soulmate bonding, we do know some basic principles. Using those, I’m pretty sure you have a soulmate bond. It’s just taking a while to settle into your life. Well, lives.”

Marinette sighed, placing her head on her desk, attempting to reconnect with her soulmate for the umpteenth time.

Months continued to pass, Marinette now dealing with a tantrum-throwing Chat and an unresponsive soulmate.

Yes, the soulmate bonding was supposed to be the least of her worries, but how can Marinette ignore the fact that she hadn’t heard from them in three months?

In attempts to push it to the back of her mind, Marinette focused on retrieving the cat miraculous from Chat. 

Another month passed when a miracle occured. 

Marinette was sick and tired of playing cat and mouse with Chat, promising herself to try this one last time before she officially gave up on taking back the cat miraculous. 

They were once more fighting an appearance changing akuma, the akuma changing the appearance of any person they touched, Marinette doing everything in her power to avoid being touched. What should she do? She didn’t want to be a useless fish nor-

Take it when he gets hit by his opponent. 

Marinette stiffed at those words, feeling as if he knew then from experience himself. 

Marinette didn’t get a response, but stuck with their advice, watching for her opportunity to rise. 

An hour later, there it was. 

As she flung him out of harm’s way, she slipped the ring off of him, her eyes closed as she renounced his ownership of the ring and of Plagg. 

A single tear slipped as he heard him scream at her. As he begged her to reconsider. 

Ladybug simply ignored the growing guilt in her chest, but knew it was for the best. 

With a final tug at her yo-yo, Ladybug took down the akuma and prepared herself to be the hero Paris truly needed. 

Back at home, Marinette hugged her pillow, crying her heart out as she started to doubt her decision from earlier that day.

Sorry.

———

A month had passed since that day, Marinette slumping into her bed as she de transformed. Plagg and Tikki quickly checked on their Guardian before going off to replenish their own energy. 

With a heavy sigh, Marinette threw her arm over her forehead, feeling the tension in it. 

Hawkmoth was still out there, searching for her, using all her allies against her. All but two. 

Rena Rouge has the first out. 

Then Carapace. 

Lady Guêpe was forced to resign. 

Then Chat Noir. 

Ryuuko and Viperion remained, but at what cost?

But she couldn’t keep burdening them with her duties, with her life. 

The trio were the only ones to protect Paris, although it was majorly Lady Chat in the scene.

Announcing to Paris that Chat was no longer going to aid with the defeat of Hawkmoth ended up turning for the worst, half of Paris wondering why Ladybug would ever do such a thing. 

Why would she ever let Chat go when she needed him the most?

She ignored them, knowing it was for the greater good. She knew that what she did was necessary. 

She wasn’t going to allow Chat to continue to corrupt Plagg, even Viperion and Ryuuko agreed with her. 

And yes, she did always meet up with them...in their slightly hidden civilian forms. 

While the previous guardian told her the importance of keeping their identities, Marinette’s morality began to waver. 

If they wanted any chance of defeating Hawkmoth, they needed more trust with each other. 

Yes, they can potentially leak out each other’s identities if akumatized, but she was willing to risk it. 

So with Ryuuko and Viperion’s help, Ladybug sought a way to take down the enemy, once and for all. 

Marinette’s thoughts soon became muddled, equations blurring into her mind. 

She sat there, cradling her mind as math flooded her head, a concerned Tikki rushing to her. 

They are rushing it. 

They had to use substitution there, not the answer they got in the first part. 

What do you want?

Are you here to distract me?

No.

Just breath.

Recheck your fourth to last step. That’s where-

The voice faded, becoming a soothing hum. Mari felt as her shoulders relaxed, only then noticing she had then square and tense. 

She decided to sit up, eyeing her sketchbook. 

When was the last time she opened it? 

Just as she turned to a clean page, Marinette started to sketch, writing the word red at the side. 

That’s when she heard her soulmate say something she thought they were never going to say to her. 

Thank you. 

Giddiness filled her imagination, Marinette got to designing, Plagg and Tikki smiling as they watched her emerge herself into her work. 

———

Marinette placed a final pin into her alterations when her head began to angrily hum.

Who’s standard should I follow?

Marinette wondered what was going on with her soulmate that made them question and doubt the morality standards around them. But if she went off experience…

Neither. 

But I have to choose a side.

Don’t you have your own set of morals? Principles?

I do.

Then follow them.

Why can’t I just choose one of the ones laid before me?

Because if you keep trying to choose one of them, you’re going to burn out. You’re going to lose yourself.  And you’ll hate it. Every. Second. That passes.

Marinette began to panic when she didn’t hear anything said back, looking at Tikki for some type of explanation. 

Tikki simply looked at her with sad eyes while Plagg purred against Marinette’s cheek, Marinette deflating upon not getting an answer to her situation. 

———

Can you feel me?

The voice asked, Damian debating on whether to answer it. 

Because, no. He couldn’t feel them, but certainly did feel their emotions 

He had been for the past half year. 

And he knew that whoever they were, they were either a hero or vigilante. 

He was able to clearly feel their emotions and hear their thoughts when they finally defeated someone called Hawkmoth. 

He had tried to ask them who it was, but they never responded, quickly changing the subject. 

Mostly about their upcoming schedule. 

Something about having to make a dress for some event they were invited to. 

He remembers telling them about him being in the same boat, having to get his measurements taken for a new suit for the gala. 

Can you show me?

Their bond only allowed them to hear each other.

And our silhouettes. They added. 

“Master Damian, there you are.” Alfred spoke, Damian looking over at his grandfather (not that he would ever say it out loud). 

“Is this about the gala? I presume Father wants me to do something for him.”

“More like remind you of how-“

“I won’t let some random harlots try to seduce me.” Damian stated firmly, picking up Alfred the cat. “They can try, but I will not waver.” 

Alfred let a smile out, giving a few words for thought before leaving. 

Damian sighed, going back to his conversation. Or at least attempted. 

He tried to say something to his soulmate, but never got a response…

Not even as he tried to talk to her for the next few weeks.

———

Marinette stood by the punch bowl, watching as everyone around her talked like old time friends, chatting away into the night. 

She rubbed her hands against her bare arms, wondering why someone like her was even at the Wayne Gala. 

Oh right. She was personally invited because of her other identity: M. 

M - the mysterious designer that had taken the fashion world upside down with their presence and style. 

Marinette sighed, taking her glass of champagne and walking towards the balcony, not a single set of eyes following her crystal embedded red dress that stood out like a sore thumb.

Leaning against the stone railing, Marinette huffed, twirling the glass between her fingers, watching as the champagne sizzled as it swirled. 

Finding herself bored, Marinette hummed to herself, wishing she was still able to talk to her soulmate.

Ever since that night a few weeks ago, she hadn’t been able to contact them, even Tikki growing worried as to why it was happening.

Marinette missed talking to them, even if their relationship did start on the wrong foot.

She missed them...dearly.

As Marinette continued to hum to herself, something caught her attention; a single emerald glowing leaf flew into her line of sight, her breath hitching. 

It continued to fly away, into the hall in which the gala was taking place. 

Where are you going? Don't leave me alone

Without a second thought, Marinette quickly followed it, not caring about the stares she was gathering as she pushed her way through the crowds. 

She stumbled a bit as she saw the butterfly take a corner, almost losing it in the process. 

How do I follow you

Into the unknown

Marinette quickly called out Kaalki, giving out an order to bring Mullo to her. 

As soon as she had made it out into the open, Mullo quickly joined Marinette into the chase, multiplying to help with the search. 

Marinette’s heart beat louder and stronger as she watched the butterfly begin to pulse brighter than ever before, a smile growing unbeknownst to Mari. 

The joy died done when the butterfly stopped going, hovering in the middle of the garden which Mari found herself at. 

Finally having a moment to breath, Marinette looked around herself, hedges and rows of flora surrounded her, shades of camellias encircling her. In the distance, she noticed some blue salvias, the tips peeking from under bushes.

Why was she brought here?

Here of all places?

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a pair of shoes click their way towards her, Marinette watching as the shadowed figure became another person. 

When their eyes met, a group of leaves burst around them, the soft bluebell mingled with the emerald ones, dancing around each other. 

“So you’re my soulmate.” He started, Marinette wondering how he wasn’t breaking a sweat in the layers of formal attire. She also couldn’t help but notice that his suit had kevlar integrated. 

“I must be if the leaves guided us to one another.” Marinette responded, wondering what to do next. 

The two looked at each other, wondering who was going to take the next step when the man broke into a smile. 

“Damian. My name's Damian Wayne.”

“Marinette.” She followed. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m glad I found you, Damian.”

She really was. 

She was happy to have followed the wind bond into the unknown. 

Epilogue/Bonus:

Dick watched as Damian ran through the crowds in the gala. 

“Damian! Where-“

“Somewhere!” Damian yelled, peaking Dick’s curiosity. 

Dick waited until he saw him leave the hall before tailing him, having to pick up the pace when he almost lost sight of the boy a few times. 

Dick wondered where exactly Damian was running off to, worry growing stronger when they had left the manor and were running into the garden. 

He quickly tumbled into a hedge when he watched Damian slow down, following his gaze. 

There, a few meters away, was a small stature girl with the most captivating red dress. The off-shoulder dress perfected fitted the girl’s small frame, Dick watching with the utmost glee as he saw Damian approach the girl. 

Just as the two were three feet apart, Dick watched as a kaleidoscope of butterflies burst around them, leaving Dick starstruck. 

He’d always heard of the wind bond, some of his friends telling him they had it. But this was the first time he’s ever seen it, let alone seen actual soulmates-

Soulmates…

HIS BROTHER HAD A SOULMATE AND NEVER TOLD HIM?!

Filled with hurt, Dick curled into a ball and stayed there in shock. 

“Grayson. How long do you plan on staying there?” 

Dick raised his head, watching how Damian attempted to keep a smile in check while his soulmate was wrapped around his arm. “Come on, the gala’s about to end. I need to make an announcement as it does.”

It took a quick second for Dick to figure out what he had meant by that. 

“Damian! Don’t you dare-“

“Watch me.” Damian said with a grin, watching as the girl looked at Dick in confusion as Damian led her back inside. 

Dick, however, didn't make it in time to warn their father, watching as Damian announced to the world about his soulmate… right as his own father was going to propose to Selina on live. 

“That idiot.” Dick muttered, a smile still on his face as he watched Damian glow alongside his newfound love.

[demonictales]

I have a oneshot idea with Run yu. How about: when Run yu was a child, he met this demon child, reader (maybe a dog or wolf demon) who is a wild child and a prankster, and they became good friends for a while, until the empress took him away from his home. When Run yu grew up, he meets reader again who is a demon lord/lady now. Reader is a charmer and like to cause trouble to the empress. Reader is a troublemaker but always been honest to Run yu even in his hardest time.

that’s such a cute idea, i love it! here we go. let me know if you liked it. 

TW: DROWNING

As a kid, you had it pretty easy. You were an illegitimate child of the demon king and could do whatever you wanted. So naturally you'd steal out of the demon realm and sneak around the heavenly realm and often could be found around Dongtin lake. You'd snuck around it it ever so often, not in your human form but in your small little wolf form. Where most would expect a black wolf with dark eyes, your fur was the brightes white someone had ever seen, it could rival the snow, your eyes were a dark purple, matching your little horns. A monster some would say, but your attitude would come of as adorable next to mischievious.

You met Runyu for the first time when you fell into the lake, of course you were running to fast chasing a stupid bird as you realized you landed in the lake barely able to keep your head over the surface when you felt someone pushing you up. That someone must've heard your desperate yelps. Admittingly, you were a terrible swimmer. Only then when you had ground underneath your feet and looked back into the water you spotted a face and turned back into your human form. A small grin spread on your face as you waved to the boy underneath the surface.

Your father only knew you for causing trouble whereever you went and today was no different, just had just shown someone your true form. The little wolf demon that you were turned into the bastard princess/prince of the demon realm right in front of someone from the heavenly realm. Of course whereever you followed, trouble was near.

The second time you met him, you were in your human form, black robes with white and pruple ornaments were drabbed over your tiny figure, looking much more presentable than last time. You sat on the shore and threw some stones into the lake, hoping that the boy you saw would show up again. After all, you still owed him a thank you for day that he had saved you from drowning. As a wolf it was in your nature to support people who had done something good for you, even now in your younger years. It was the loyalty of a wolf that made you friends in the end. Quickly, your thoughts ended when you saw a movement in the water and became curious. It was him. The little fish that had saved you, but he didn't seem happy.

"Please don't throw stones into the lake. You could hurt someone." His voice was calm but soft as he spoke, but you just stared at him. " I'm sorry. " You admitted a bit meekly, you never apologize, at least only when you were forced to. " But actually it's not my fault. You didn't tell me your name last time. How else was I supposed to find you. ----- " The said apology was still worth nothing. " I am Y/N. I'm from the demon realm. " Before he could ask, you already gave him the answer. " Do you want to play with me? --- "

That day was the day you both became friends for eternity so it seeemed. Nearly everyday for the next 200 years you would sneak into the heavenly real to meet Runyu. You'd play hide and seek around the lake, you taught him how to play fetch and how you could jump as high as you wanted without much effort and he eventually taught you how to swim. Even though you had 200 years together, one day when you came to the heavenly realm, you noticed something was off. There was a strange woman at the lake talking to your friend as you did hide behind some shilf bushes and she took Runyu with her. The next few days you always patiently waited for Runyu to appear but he never did, so you eventually went your own way as a lone wolf again, roaming the heavenly realm quietly and without a friend by your side.

Another 5000 years should have passed for you to meet Runyu again. This time you had to snuck into the heavenly realm again for spying purposes, forced by King Gucheng to do so. He saw no big purpose for you so in case something would be off, you could lose your head. He wouldn't mind. You on the other hand enjoyed drama, chaos and mischief. Not that you enjoyed the bad side of it. You'd never get blood on your hands, but the demon realm knew of your bravery and slight concerning love for daredevil actions, so of course you offered and they'd send you willingly. Of course it couldn't go unnoticed that someone had snuck into the heavenly realm on the empress birthday.

Of course you glamoured yourself, a small broquet doing the trick. Your hair long and openly falling over your back in a black waterfall, your attire s colors were swapped, the fabric purple with black and white ornaments as you seated yourself with the lower class deitys, spotting a very familiar face in the crowd. It was Yanyou.

You had met him several years ago after you roamed the mortal realm. Both of you enjoyed the same things and became friends, you were surprised to see him here and luckily he had not noticed you yet. However, you noticed another glamour spell in the room, right next to him. It wasn't particularly strong but not easy to decipher as well. Natrually you saw a chance for mischief, causing distraction could buy you some time and less eyes on you. Only when everything went quiet your eyes darted to the entrance where the Heavenly Emperor and the Heavenly Empress entered, your purple colored eyes landed on someone beside the emperor. He looked oddly familiar but you could not place a name to his face. He walked so lightly and gracefully as no one you had ever seen before. Quietly from your seat you watched him curiously.

The feast went on smoothly, yet you got bored quite easily as you finally decided to let action break loose. You let a small mouse ran loose and enjoyed the chaos that emerged from your spot, a mischievous smile hard to suppress. The scene unfolded itself, the person who had a galmour spell over her was indeed a young woman of the flower realm. Impressive you thought, but the fact that the empress seemed bothered and angry after hearing these things was enough for you to move on, sneaking out of the banquet walking quietly around the palace and ending up in the night immortals wing.

Runyu had left the banquet after Jinmi was exposed and quietly took care of whatever happened, he ordered Yanyou to take her out of heavenly real and back to the flower real for now. As he had excused himself, he wandered off to where he was needed, to let the night fall in on his way, however, he was delayed as she saw you sneaking around his quarters.

" How may I help you? --- " The night immortal spoke up as he eyes you, his voice smooth and calming, no sense of threat detected. You spun arround, caught in the act of breaking in as a smirk formed on your lips. " I believe I got lost wandering around. --- " You lied, simple as that. Runyu chuckled, knowing you did so but seemingly you did not care. It reminded him of a childhood friend of his.

Not quite sure what it was, you decided to reveal yourself. What could possibly go wrong. If anything, you were fast and could flee within the blink of an eye. Revealing yourself by letting your glamour vanish, your robes were back to their usual black color, decorated with white and purple ornaments, a black iron pin with purple stones keeping your hair up. Your identity now revealed to him, the ever so known smirk never leaving your face.

It dawned on him as to who you where and yet there you stood, still not recognizing him. You had quite matured over the years and grown quite well, yet your character seemed to be still the same. Runyu enjoyed the fact you hadn't changed much. "Y/N -- How long has it been? --- " The night immortal asked you, clearly remembering the childhood friend who was always by his side.

Puzzled as you seemed, you were confused that he knew your name. " Do we know each other? " You spoke frankly, wondering why he asked you of your well being when you were caught red handed in the act of breaking into this royals chamber. He chuckled stepping closer to you as he bowed. " I believe we had spent many years together at the Dongting lake before I was brought to the heavenly palace."

It took you a moment to pin one and one together but eventually your features gave you away, eyes big as you did not dare believe it. "Runyu..?!" It came more out as a question, but the more you thought about it, the more you looked at him, it was him. He was your childhood best friend. A very honest smile formed on your features. He returned the soft smile, nodding. " I can't believe it. Out of every place I snuck in I met you at the heavenly palace.. ----- It has been so long. " The words left your mouth, remembering the days you spent alone without him by your side.

"I have waited for you so many days at the lake for you to come back, but you never came. ----- I was so lonely. " Even though you were grown up, you were still whining, pulling on his sleeve. " You could have at least tell me good bye. It was the empress that took you away from me, wasn't she. " You huffed angrily as you crossed your arms. " She deserved that chaos at her banquett today. That's for taking my only great companion away from me leaving me to wander alone all these years. " Oh, how great it was to be with your friend again. " So it was you that stirred up the chaos at the hall earlier today. " Runyu concluded, not really surprised at your words, even now.

Taking a few steps back you grinned, scratching the back of your neck. " Maybe..---- "

"But I had my reasons. " You continued. " Did I get you in trouble though? If you did, I'm willing to take the punishment. After all I'm your loyal everlasting friend. " Words that you once told him when you were a child, that you'd be friends forever and that your loyalty would never go away until the day you died and you did it today as well, a grown up woman who would now occasionally meet up with him at the dongting lake, the flower real or easily would snuck into heavenly real again at night to meet him.

Finally you had your friend back and would no longer have to wander the world alone.

[icefire149]

Happy Birthday Dean Winchester!!! 

I wanted to write a little something and this ended up spiraling into something longer than I planned.  (2,231 words) (Also please forgive me for any spelling errors. It’s after 3am) Enjoy!~

/////

For Dean, the weeks and months following Chuck’s defeat went by in a dizzying, unrecognizable blur. Despite Sam and Eileen’s best efforts to take care of Dean, he spent the majority of his time buried deep in the bunker’s archive. A lot of the time Jack is with him.

There was an ache in his chest that feared what stupid things he might have done by now if the kid wasn’t right there. Helping him. Talking to him. Actually getting to bond with him without Chuck’s interference. It was the one good thing in this fucked up situation right now.

So far their search for anything about the Empty was a disaster. There was virtually nothing. More and more often Jack would apologize. With his new position as God, yes, he could make a doorway into the Empty. That much they did know for a fact. But could he put them to sleep? Could he kill them? What would be the consequences of that?

The only other thing that they knew for certain was that the Empty could claw their way into Heaven and tear it all down. That was the only thing that was keeping Jack from snapping his fingers and restoring Cas right then and there.

It was tearing them both apart, but regardless, they continued their search.

Today, Dean opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. It was his birthday. Most years he spent it like any other normal day, but this one….after the Mrs. Butters incident…Sam and him had decided they should be throwing real celebrations. It was one thing when they were living out of motel rooms and the impala. It was completely understandable. But now they have a permanent home. So why not?

He knew now why not…..there was no point in celebrating a man that’s only half here.

Dean closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep the day away. He didn’t realize that he had fallen back asleep until he was startled awake by a pounding on his bedroom door. He shot up to a sitting position in bed, chest pounding and eyes wide with fear. It was a moment before he realized that he was in his room and not….

“Hey Dean? You up yet?”

His heart rate was still slowing, but he recognized the voice. Sam.

“I’m awake now. What’d you want?”

“Lunch is ready. I figured you’d wanna eat by now.”

“Fine. Be up soon.”

When Dean was dressed and ready as he would ever be, he opened his bedroom door. He stood there blinking in confusion for several moments. There were balloons tied to the doors of every room down the hallway.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he followed the balloons into the kitchen where the party decorations looked like they threw up. There was a happy birthday banner over the kitchen doorway and balloons….so many goddamn balloons everywhere.

“Surprise!” Jack popped up out of his chair and crossed the kitchen to hug him. “Sam let me decorate for your birthday. He told me I had to contain it to one room though.”

Jack took a step back with a look of concern. “Is that okay?”

“What about the hallway?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “A hallway by definition isn’t a room.”

That set Dean off in a fit of belly deep laughter. He slapped a reassuring hand onto Jack’s shoulder. “You did awesome kid.”

Jack’s mouth pulled into a beaming smile. He went back to where he was sitting, and Sam came into the kitchen.

“Good. I didn’t think you were ever getting up.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good to see your face too, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and started pulling plates out. Dean went and sat by Jack.

“So what’s for lunch? I’m not seeing anything.”

Sam brought the plates over. “Well, you slept through the pancakes Jack helped me make this morning. Eileen should be here any minute with lunch.”

Dean shot Jack a look. “Sorry kid.”

“It’s okay. They were really good.”

“What’s Eileen bringing?” Dean turned his attention to Sam, but before he could answer Eileen came walking through the door.

“I hope everyone’s hungry.” She placed a stack of three white boxes on the table.

The familiar bakery smell hit him instantly. He pointed at the boxes. “Is that?”

Eileen grinned and crossed her arms. “Sam told me you liked pie.”

“Thank you, you majestic, wonderful being.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “You better marry her.”

That got Eileen laughing while Sam ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

Dean grinned and made eye contact with Eileen. “I’m so sorry, I know you can do so much better than Sam too.”

She laughed again, and then her mouth curled into a teasing smile. “I know, Dean. I know.”

“OKAY.” Sam clapped his hands together. “Can we move on from the embarrassing Sam portion of today?”

They eventually did. For a long time the three of them sat in the kitchen laughing, telling stories, and eating way too much pie. At one point Sam handed a big gift bag to Dean.

“It’s…from Jack and I.” Sam sounded unsure.

“I hope you like it,” Jack added.

Dean opened it to find several wrapped in tissue paper objects. Soon enough he found out that they were all various framed pictures. Silently, he spread them all out over the table so he could stare at them all.

There were pictures going back a decade. Easily. There were so many smiles and glares and candid shots. Fuck they were all so young looking.

Charlie in her Queen of Moondoor costume. Mom with a bowl of popcorn. Kevin and Sam asleep surrounded by piles of books. Claire on her 18th birthday with the ugly stuffed cat doll. Rowena moments before she hexed the camera. Jack looking amazed at the giant multi-scoop ice cream cone Dean bought him against Sam’s wishes. Kevin and Linda at Garth’s safe-houseboat. Dean, Sam, and Bobby at one of the cabins fishing. The hectic attempt at a family photo from Jody’s. Garth and his family. And Cas…..there were so many just of Cas or ones with him present or ones of just the two of them.

Sam coughed awkwardly. “I know you’ve been saying for a couple years now that you wanted to start printing some of the pictures we’ve been dumping onto one of the old laptops. So I thought….”

“Thank you, Sammy.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pictures. Especially the candid he’d never seen before. It was of him and Cas leaning against the side of the impala, completely lost in their own bubble of conversation. Dean felt like there was a cinder block dropped into his stomach. “You did good.”

And he meant it. Still, it hurt to remember everyone he lost.

“Oh, I think you missed one,” Jack said poking at the bag.

He was right, Dean realized when he reached a hand in and pulled out a smaller wrapped frame.

Sam laughed. “I forgot about that one.”

Dean opened it and burst into uncontrollable laughter. It was a picture from his mark of cain days of him and Crowley in matching cowboy hats. As much as he didn’t want to remember those days, he still couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture. “I miss that dumb son of a bitch.”

“Hey!” Sam chimed in. “That’s insulting to Rowena.”

That had Dean laughing again. “Well, she can take a number kicking my ass. You know the moment Cas sees this he’s gonna use it and me as his personal dartboard.”

The words slipped out before he could even process it. Sam’s smile faded. Dean’s laughter turned into crying. No one said anything while Dean fought to compose himself. He was grateful for that.

When Dean’s face was dry and he dared lift his head up, Jack asked him about the people in the photos.  And that’s how they spent the rest of the afternoon. It was hard to imagine his life without Jack being present somewhere so he was happy to indulge the technically toddler in what the people in the pictures were like. All the stories Dean could pull from his memory. It hurt initially, but after a while he felt lighter.

Later that day Dean was taking a break in his room when Sam peeked in the ajar door. “What’d you need, Sam?”

“I-uh…” He stepped into the room. A neatly wrapped in green box with a card on top was in his hands. “I have one last thing to give you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but isn’t another present going overboard? What gives?”

“It’s not from me.”

“Oh. Hand it here then.” Excited, Dean sat on the edge of his bed and held his hands out.

Sam stepped forward, but he didn’t hand the box over. “It’s from Cas.”

Dean’s hands fell down, and Sam was happy he waited. “What’s in the box?”

Sam placed it on the bed next to Dean. He shrugged. “I don’t know. He asked me quite a while ago to hang onto it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I figure he thought you’d be least likely to find it if it was in my room.”

Dean cracked a small smile at that. His chest felt like it split open just to ache again. He knew why Cas asked Sam to hold onto it. “Thanks Sammy.”

Sam left the room, closing the door behind him. It took a while before Dean could muster up the courage to open the card.

His hands shook as he pulled the folded over pieces of paper out of the envelope. Turns out instead of a generic store bought card, Cas wrote him a letter. It was a bittersweet sight. Despite how devastated he normally felt whenever he thought about Cas, he was good seeing his handwriting. In his hands was actually a new message from Cas. A message from Cas to him!

Happy Birthday Dean,

If you’re reading this then that means I failed. I wanted to burn this letter to ashes, but clearly I’m not there to do that. I’m so sorry, truly. I’m not sure what could have happened to bring us here, but I need to confess something important. I know you said no more deals when Jack died, but I still made a deal with the Empty anyways.

When I went to Heaven to bring Jack’s soul back to his body things didn’t go as planned. The Empty was furious Jack’s human half sent him to Heaven. It tore through Heaven like it was tissue paper. I did what I had to for Jack, and for Heaven. My life for his.

I don’t regret it. But the Empty did promise not to claim me until I gave myself permission to be truly happy. I’m still trying to puzzle out exactly what that could be. My family on Earth: Sam, Jack, and you - make me happy each and every day. I need you to remember that.

Please be safe and live a happy life. You are so loved by your friends and family. They need you for the next several decades. I mean it Dean. (I may have been curing you of liver and heart disease every year on your birthday. Well fixing to the best of my abilities the damage you keep causing on those poor organs.)

I hope you enjoy the present I picked out. Quite honestly, I got it because it made me laugh.

I miss you.

Castiel

Dean felt like a tangled mess of emotions. He needed to remember to breathe. Minutes later he carefully tore open the green wrapping paper. Curiosity poked at him. With Cas’ odd sense of humor, it could have been anything in the box.

Under the wrapping paper was a generic cardboard box, but inside were a handful of new cassette tapes. Dean fell over to be laying on his side. Laughing happily for quite a while, he studied each and every tape. They were all cassettes of modern music, specifically the pop artists Cas loved so much. The ones Dean used to tease Cas about while they’d be out on long drives.

He immediately knew which memory Cas was thinking of when he planned this. Dean remembered they were in the impala and Cas wasn’t in the mood for any of Dean’s old tapes. He teased that anything that came out after cassette tapes wasn’t real music. And only real music got to play in the impala.

Closing his eyes, Dean could picture the smug look Cas would be wearing right now. Tears started bubbling free from his eyelids. God he missed Cas with every ounce of his being.

A while later Dean got up and left his room, taking the tapes with him. He went for a long drive circling the neighboring towns while he worked through several of the tapes. If he relaxed enough, he could almost imagine Cas sitting in the front seat next to him, mumbling along to the lyrics of the songs he liked most.

Dean vowed that this time next year things would be different. He was owed a birthday wish and this was it: next year he’d be somewhere warm with his toes buried in the sand, and he’d have Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Cas with him.

[illmaticreid]

We Fell in Love in October - Part 6

DESCRIPTION: Noah is in college studying film and has been a very boring freshman thus far. Her roommate demands that she goes to a party with her and this is where she meets an extremely bold Matthew.

Warnings: language, slight angst, unprotected sex, alcohol, daddy kink, butt stuff hehe, vomit

A/N: I am sorry it took me like two months to write this lol I know no one really cares but I feel bad that it took so long. Also, I am thinking of ending the story. I have no motivation to write and don’t see it going anywhere. Noah & Matthew are too happy to have conflicts lol. I am thinking of writing a sugar daddy story with Matthew/Spencer and then this story will just end :( 

Word Count: 3.1k

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE |

Today was my birthday. It was the first time I was actually excited for my birthday. Normally, I hated acknowledging that I was getting older. This was the first time I had someone to spend my birthday with, though. I am used to being with friends, but that really isn't the same as spending it with a significant other.

Ellie was planning on taking me to lunch today in between classes, and I just asked Matthew to spend the rest of the day with each other. I didn't want to have a party or be around a bunch of people I don't know very well.

Matthew and I are in a class together today, and we have to go through short scenes with dialogue. I am not sure what I want to do in life or in my career, so acting in front of others scared me. Especially Matthew. I know I am comfortable in front of him, but I am probably just gonna embarrass myself.

The scenes are supposed to be extremely intense, depending on how the actor wants to portray it. Matthew is not my partner, so we won't be doing any scenes together. I haven't decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A couple pairs had already gone through the scene a couple times in front of the class. The scene was about a couple getting into a fight, and either making up or continuing on with the argument. Most of it was adlib and, the pairs had to figure out how they wanted it to go on their own.

I think my partner had a small crush on me, which made me slightly uncomfortable. I had no idea if he was going to pull something on me during our act. Matthew's partner was this extremely attractive girl who was very serious about acting. I felt a little self-conscious but either way, it was just an assignment.

Matthew was up next, and I felt my palms start to sweat. Their dialogue started off like everyone else's. There was intense arguing that flowed seamlessly. Hopefully, Matthew and I never argued like that. I think I would burst out in tears.

As their argument became quieter, I realized they had decided to make up. Matthew's partner got close to his face, and their dialogue became almost too quiet for the class to hear.

She suddenly leaned up and kissed him softly. I almost got out of my seat and screamed. Kissing? No one said shit about kissing. No one else in our class had decided to kiss their partner on the mouth. What the fuck was he thinking? He pulled away from her rather quickly and went back to his seat.

My face heated up in anger as I gave him daggers from across the room. He refused to make eye contact with me. Okay, Matthew, two can play at that game.

When it was my turn to do the scene, my partner was being exceptionally weird. Maybe I was being weird because I was taking my real-life anger out on him. Our scene was supposed to end with a hug but, at the last minute, I told him to kiss me. It was actually me kissing him, but it didn't really matter.

I pulled him in by his shirt and placed my mouth on his in a heated kiss. The kiss was not heated at all, though. In fact, it was gross and slimy. Putting my lips on anybody's but Matthew's was enough to make me gag.   I walked off the front of the stage and left class altogether. I probably failed this ridiculous assignment but, I didn't care.

I heard footsteps behind me as I walked to my car. I was praying it wasn't my partner. I was also slightly praying that it wasn't Matthew.

"Noah, wait!"

I rolled my eyes when I heard the familiar sound of Matthew's voice.

"What was that?" He said once he finally caught up to me.

"What?"

"You kissed your partner, gagged, and then left the classroom," Matthew spoke. I couldn't tell if he wanted to laugh or be pissed off at me. Probably a little bit of both.

"Oh? You're allowed to kiss your partner, and I am not?" I asked without a hint of humor in my voice. I didn't know if it was ridiculous to be upset, but I just wasn't expecting my boyfriend to kiss another girl today.

"Noah, whoa, whoa, whoa," Matthew chuckled before continuing. What was so funny? "I didn't kiss another girl, it was an assignment that we had to do for an acting class. Also, she kissed me. Should I be mad at you for kissing your partner? Clearly, it was only to try and get back at me."

My shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew me all too well, and now I looked like an idiot.

"I don't think it was appropriate to kiss her, Matthew."

"I don't think it was appropriate to kiss him, and then gag about it," Matthew laughed again. It was hard to stay mad at him when all he kept doing was laughing at what just happened.

I had to admit, I am acting ridiculous. Why did they have to kiss, though? The thought alone made my blood boil.

"I didn't mean to gag, he was just a bad kisser. I am mad that you let her even get that close to you," I spoke angrily.

"Oh, Noah. You are adorable," Matthew chuckled again. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, trying my best to seem angrier than I actually was.

"Take me seriously!"

"I can't, the argument is laughable. I don't want to actually kiss that girl. I don't even know her name. You should know that you're the only girl I love," He said sweetly.

I tried to be more upset, but I couldn't. He made me swoon.

When I didn't say anything, Matthew continued. "Don't ever forget how much you mean to me. You're so special. Also, my dick is literally so hard right now. You are so hot when you are angry."

My face got very hot very quickly as I looked down at his pants and saw his jeans starting to bulge.

"Would you like me to fix that for you?" I asked, innocently.

Matthew moaned quietly as I palmed his pants. I had to remember that we were in the middle of a hallway and anyone could walk out of class and catch us.

"I have a little surprise for you if you want to come back to my place," Matthew said with a smirk.

"I said no presents!"

"I know, but this is a present for both of us."

I agreed so, we walked to his car and drove to Matthew's apartment. When we got inside, he handed me a long but thin box that felt light.

"If this is jewelry or anything expensive, I won't accept it," I spoke firmly. I really hated getting gifts. If it was something small, or something I really needed then, I would be okay with it.

"Just open it, Noah," Matthew laughed. I sighed before opening the box that revealed tissue paper. I pulled back the tissue paper and found fuzzy pink handcuffs.

"You kinky little bitch," I squealed at Matthew before taking them out of the box. He let out a loud laugh and wouldn't stop smiling at me. They were adorable. The pink fuzz was more of a feather-like material. I am assuming that he bought these ones in particular so that they would be a little more gentle on me.

"Would you like to use them?" Matthew said sinisterly. The smile was ripped off of my face within seconds. Yes, I thought they were cute and funny. I had forgotten that they would actually have to get used. Which meant that I would have to be completely submissive to Matthew.

"Now?" I asked, my mouth agape.

I received a nod from Matthew as he took the handcuffs out of my hands and threw me over his shoulder. We entered his bedroom and Matthew kicked the door shut with his foot before throwing me onto the bed. He started to take his clothes off, never breaking eye contact with me.

Matthew only had his underwear on as he walked over to me and placed his hand underneath my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

"I can't wait to see how pretty you look with these little pink handcuffs on," Matthew spoke just above a whisper. God, he was so fucking hot. I started undressing, not being able to take the waiting anymore.

I laid on Matthew's bed, completely naked, waiting for him to make the first move. He flipped me over onto my back, grabbed both of my hands with one of his, and pinned me down. He grabbed the handcuffs and put them on me tightly. I winced at the pain but he knew how much I really liked it.

"Are you ready for the best birthday sex you've ever had, Noah?"

"Do your worst," I said as I lifted my hips up into the air.

No other words were spoken as he slipped his dick into me. I yelped loudly, and Matthew just chuckled at me. It hurt, but it also felt amazing at the same time.

Matthew continued to pound into mercilessly as I laid there, screaming and moaning. I started moving my hips back up against him, and Matthew stopped moving and let me do my thing.

"Fuck," I moaned, getting tired from all of the work I was putting in. My hips began to slow down and eventually, they came to a stop. Matthew apparently did not like that.

"Did I say that you could stop?"

"I'm sorry," I panted.

Matthew grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his hand in a fist. I moaned at the pain coming from my scalp. He rammed his hips into me quickly with as much force as he could.

"You feel so good, Matthew," I whispered into the bedsheets.

"Yeah? You like that? Tell me more."

I felt my face get red as I told him how much I liked it. How much I liked his dick absolutely obliterating me. I could feel the heat begin to grow in my stomach and I knew I was close. It felt like I was starting to see stars.

I felt Matthew's hand rest on my ass, and his thumb slowly started to drift somewhere that I wasn't quite sure I was comfortable with. I wasn't stopping him, though. I let his thumb travel dangerously close to my 'backdoor' before realizing what he was up to.

Matthew's thumb slipped inside of me and before I could scream at him to get out, I came. I was completely ashamed that he made me orgasm by sticking his finger in my ass, but also couldn't even focus because of how amazing it felt.

Seconds into my orgasm, Matthew pulled out of me and came onto my back. He was groaning and hissing, and it was music to my ears.

After he wiped me down, I figured now would be the best time to ask what the fuck just happened.

"First, uncuff me. Second, why did you put your thumb in my ass?" I all but screamed.

Matthew chuckled before saying, "I don't know. It was just there and I wanted to see what happened. You clearly liked it though." He had a stupid shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck you! You didn't even ask if that was okay with me."

"I know. I'm sorry, but now I know you are into butt stuff," He giggled.

"I am not into butt stuff. You are! It was your idea," I said while trying to hold back my own giggles and a little bit of embarrassment that I was indeed, into butt stuff.

"You came in less than half a second. I think it's safe to say that you liked it."

"Fine, maybe a little."

That was where we left off our conversation. Later in the day, I had lunch with Ellie and then I was going to spend the rest of the night with Matthew. I finished the rest of my classes and went home. I finished up some homework and got ready for the night.

Matthew picked me up right on time, and we drove back to his place. He opened the door to his apartment for me, and let me walk in first.

"Surprise!!" I heard from around the room. My face got red, but I smiled at everyone anyways. I was going to kill who's ever idea this was.

"Hi!" I waved at everyone, awkwardly. There were only around ten people here, which was okay. Thankfully it wasn't some huge party that would just make me feel awkward and uncomfortable all night long. I could handle a couple people but, any more than that, and I would have turned around and walked home.

"Whose idea was this? Hm? I want answers," I said as soon as I walked over to Ellie. I was trying to be fake angry but the smile on my face kinda blew my cover.

"Well, it was mine and Matthew's. He said no at first because he said you would hate it. But, I knew that you would secretly like it as long as you were able to get a little drunk," Ellie giggled.

"Okay fine. You caught me. I do like the attention just a little bit," I laughed with her. I was thankful that I had people in my life that cared about me this much.

As soon as Ellie mentioned getting drunk, I immediately started taking shots and making myself mixed drinks. I kept urging Matthew to drink but he was trying to stay at least a little bit sober to keep an eye on me.

"No, Noah, I don't want another shot. Thank you very much, though," Matthew said as he smiled at me. I giggled at him while taking a shot for him instead. I could feel the liquor coursing through my veins and I was probably acting a little silly. It's my birthday and I can be drunk if I want to!

I sipped on my Vodka Cranberry as some friends and I sat around Matthew's coffee table and played drunk Uno. I wasn't exactly sure how to play, I just liked regular Uno and I would just take a shot every time someone told me to.

"Baby, you have like twenty cards. You're gonna get alcohol poisoning at this rate," Matthew laughed at me. He wasn't playing, he just sat next to me and was trying to be my teammate because clearly, I was out of it.

"Don't worry, I have a trick up my sleeve," I said but I had no trick. I knew I was screwed. Eventually, someone called Uno, and on their next turn, they went out and won the game.

"Finally! That was the longest game of Uno I have ever played, and now I am completely shit faced," I sighed.

"Do you want to go lay down?" Matthew asked me.

"No, I'm fine. What are you, my dad?" I spoke back to him and giggled as soon as the words left my lips because I knew exactly how Matthew would take that.

"Keep giving me attitude and I will take you back to my room and punish you," Matthew spoke lowly. I thanked God that everyone left the couch as soon as the game was over, so we were out of earshot of everyone.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna punish me, daddy?" I said through more giggles. I was so turned on by what he said and I couldn't miss out on a chance to be a brat.

Matthew was just about to follow through on his promise when I felt a hiccup in my stomach.

"Uh Oh," Matthew said as soon as he saw the look on my face.

He rushed me to the bathroom quickly and I ran to the toilet. As soon as I started throwing up, Matthew grabbed my hair hurriedly. He kept it out of my face as I continued to blow chunks.

"You're lucky I love you, Noah because you are such a fucking lightweight," He said through laughs.

I started to laugh with him but instead, I just vomited again. For some reason, I was not embarrassed at all. I mean, Matthew had his finger in my ass earlier, I think he can handle seeing me throw up.

When my stomach was finally finished wreaking havoc on my birthday, Matthew helped me clean my self up. I brushed my teeth with him and cleaned my face, making sure I looked presentable.

"Let's get you to bed, sweet girl," Matthew said as he started to undress me in his bedroom. He grabbed me some clothes and was about to put them on me.

"No, I don't wanna wear clothes. I wanna be punished!" I whined, thinking about our conversation from earlier.

"You are too drunk. Don't worry, you have a lifetime to get punished by me."

"You want to spend a lifetime with me?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. I always got a little emotional when I was drunk.

"Well, duh. I wouldn't want to hold back anyone else's hair as they puke into a toilet anyways," Matthew said trying to make a joke out of the situation so I wouldn't cry.

"I wouldn't want anyone to hold back my hair either," I spoke as a tear streamed down my cheek.

"I know. Get into bed, I will tell everyone you aren't feeling well and to head out."

Matthew walked out of the door and I could hear him telling everyone that it was time to go.

"Oh no! Can I say goodbye to her?" I heard Ellie ask, and Matthew told her that she could. I heard the door open up and smiled when I saw Ellie's face.

"Hi," I said weakly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I hope you had a good birthday party!" Ellie smiled at me.

"I did, you're such a sweet friend," I slurred.

"Good. Have a good night, Noah. No more throwing up," She laughed as she kissed me on the forehead and left.

Minutes later, Matthew came back in and took off his clothes and snuggled into bed with me.

"I got you some water," Matthew handed me a big glass of water that I gladly took. I chugged the whole thing, and I could hear Matthew saying, "slow down!" but that didn't stop me.

"Thank you," I whispered as I started to doze off in his arms.

"Happy birthday, Noah," I heard Matthew say as I drifted off to sleep.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Unforgettable Taste

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843653

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13798454/1/Unforgettable-Taste

Gift for Poki!

Visiting her brother was always an interesting experience by Hiyori’s standards. Either he was on some sort of new “life purpose” or there was some event that she would never live down.

“I have to ask,” Hiyori said as she scanned the room, “what brought this on?” She gestured around Masaomi’s tiny living room. The space was filled with paper, fabric, and various photos of flowers.

“Wedding planning is a real profession!” Masaomi shouted from beside an attempt at a wedding dress. Hiyori set her bags down and the door and made her way into the new, yet familiar, mess. This was a classic greeting for them and she would rather learn about what she was in for than put her bags away.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hiyori tip-toed around fallen objects and papers, straightening up as she went. Masaomi sighed and picked the pins out of his mouth.

“I know, I know. I just think this is the one this time! I’ll make sure it’s stable before telling our parents but I can already hear mother’s disapproval.” Masaomi complained as he swept her up in a hug. They groaned as they squeezed then pulled back to share a smile.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Hiyori quirked a brow.

“Ah, yes!” Masaomi took a couple of steps back so he was in the center of the chaos. With a wide grin he threw his arms out to show off the room.

“I’m taking over my friend’s failing business!” Masaomi’s proud declaration was met with silence. Stopping the shout of outrage in its tracks, Hiyori held her breath. Her brother has had some less-than-intelligent ideas in the past. Ideas that have left him broke or in more trouble than he started. It wasn’t so much that her brother was too trusting, actually the man was quite smart, but he tended to throw caution to the wind all for the sake of adventure.

“Masaomi,” Hiyori started. Her brother flinched as he watched her fists curl at her sides.

“It’s okay he’s still helping me! In fact he does the majority,” Masaomi quickly explained, “We’re co-owners and I’m his apprentice now. I mostly handle the books, you know?”

“If you handle the books you clearly know how badly it’s failing! It’s one thing if you think you found your calling and you try a new thing. It’s another to offer to take over said business!” Hiyori tried her best not to growl, her glare was sufficient enough.

“I offered! Besides, the only reason it’s failing is cause he’s decided to settle down here and being a wedding planner means traveling! He’s really good at it and he’ll teach me all he knows! I’ll be able to travel while he stays here to be the pâtissière and the business will be back on track! It’s a win-win!” Masaomi said. He put his hands together in a pleasing way and Hiyori breathed through her nose. She had to admit it sounded a bit better but not quite.

“Doesn’t that sound fishy to you? The business is failing just as he decides to settle down and be a baker? And if he is teaching you then why isn’t he here?”

“He’s a pâtissière,” Masaomi groaned, “He teaches me after work. See, he used to do the whole shabang: the phone calls, the planning, all the designing, and the food making! But while he was studying abroad he picked up a kid! Now he has to stay in one place so the kid could go to school. Originally, he was going to ditch the business and open a sweets shop, but his friends in town own a bakery so he started working for them.”

“He ‘picked up’ a kid?” Hiyori stopped at that, “how old is he?”

“He’s my age! Actually, we went to college together. Do you remember Yato?” Masaomi asked. Now that Hiyori calmed down, he went back to work on the dress as she unconsciously returned to tidying the room.

“Yato? I don’t think so?”

“Yeah! He came over for my birthday that one time, he wore all black and kinda kept to himself,” Masaomi waved his hand, “long hair, blue eyes.” Her brother hummed as he tried to think of more things to jog her memory but she already had the face in mind. The name certainly didn’t sound familiar, but there was only one person at that party- in fact he was probably the first person she had ever seen- with blue eyes. Yato had been quiet, staying with the group and only really speaking when spoken too. She remembered thinking he was nice. Most of the guys Masaomi brought over barely said hi to her before partying. Yato had greeted her and was very polite when she was around, apologising for the noise and asking her thoughts on things.

“Really? He became a wedding planner?” Hiyori was shocked to say the least.

“Yeah, he’s a great artist and was always able to mend everyone’s clothes. He majored in design with a minor in fashion and started the business right after we graduated. Since cake designing was a step from clothing, he went to France and studied to become a pâtissière. But since he brought the kid back,” Masaomi trailed off and Hiyori was reminded of the other issue.

“S-still! Even if he has a business that he’s good at, he’s rather young to have a kid, no?” Even as she said it, Hiyori knew her argument was rather weak. Her brother was old enough to have a kid, and while a bit soon, it wasn’t unheard of. From the smile on Masaomi’s face, he shared her thinking. He let her stew for a moment longer before returning to the dress.

“Actually, he adopted a young teen.”

“A teenager?” Hiyori parroted.

“Yeah, his name’s Yukine,” Masaomi informed, “he was a bit troubled in the beginning but now he’s as sweet as the treats Yato makes. I can’t get either of them to tell me the story as to why Yato took him in. They won’t tell anyone.”

“Huh,” Hiyori hummed. She could imagine what moving to another country must do to a teenager, especially with some random new guardian. The whole situation was starting to make sense and she felt a bit bad from jumping to such a negative conclusion.

“You know, you’ll probably be able to meet him soon. Yukine is supposed to deliver Yato’s samples for this client’s wedding cake soon.” Masaomi said. Hiyori hummed and looked around the much-cleaner room. How her brother was expecting to have clients over with this sort of mess was beyond her but he probably knew she would pick up. Besides, she did enough meddling today.

“Well, let me know what time they come so-” Hiyori’s sentence was cut off by a door bell. Together the siblings looked toward the door. By the time Hiyori whipped her head around to glare at her brother, Masaomi already had a sheepish expression. The younger Iki stuck her nose in the air and stalked toward the front door. Hopefully she would be able to distract the newlyweds while her brother tidied more. The front door opened with ease, Hiyori looking straight ahead to see a blue bike at the end of the walk way. A bright tuft of blonde hair brought her attention down.

“Hey Masaomi, I got the cup cakes for you,” the boy spoke, “Yato said he would be by later than usual since Kofuku burnt the croissants again. He wants me to take pictures of your progress.” She couldn’t see his face as he rifled through a cooler on his hip but he seemed smaller than a teen. Though his voice definitely held that disinterested drawl. Once he gathered three square, plastic containers on top of each other and held them out, Hiyori was able to see his face. The boy startled when he saw her, someone clearly not her brother, and his mouth opened. Hiyori watched his fair skin bloom pink under his freckled cheeks while light-colored eyes flickered to the number on the house and back.

“Hi, I’m Hiyori,” she took the cup cakes, “Masaomi is my brother. You must be Yukine?” Hiyori smiled politely at him.

“Yes, um, nice to meet you,” Yukine offered, much more shy than when he thought he was talking to Masaomi. Hiyori’s smile stayed on her face as she watched him shift from foot to foot. He had on a bright pink polo shirt with a fancy ‘K’ stitched onto his breast with his name under it in a different font. It was only when he looked behind her, that Hiyori remembered the end of his greeting.

“Oh!” Hiyori stepped aside, “Please come in!” She let Yukine enter her brother’s two bedroom home before closing the door. He gave her a quick thank you and made his way to Masaomi’s workroom, clearly knowing where to go.

“Yukine! You made it! And I see you met my dear little sister.” Masomi left his dress to beam at the kid. He returned the smile with a dampered one before pulling out a camera to take pictures of the dress. Hiyori took a seat and watched Masaomi communicate happily with Yukine. He asked how his summer was going and his friends, Yukine answered easily while doing his work. Normally, Hiyori was embarrassed by how excitable her brother was but Yukine handled it without batting an eye. They must work together often.

“Oh! That’s them!” Masaomi looked at the clock and tsked, “They’re early.” He quickly scrambled to make the dress look presentable. Yukine put the camera away and closed the cooler, walking towards the back of the house. Quickly getting to her feet, Hiyori tried to see where Yukine was going but Masaomi running around made it difficult. Hiyori stumbled over the rest of the objects on the floor and side stepped a frantic brother to follow after him. It really was incredible how easily Yukine was able to walk across the room and avoid the chaos.

“Uh, Yukine?” Hiyori stopped him in the kitchen. The blonde looked at her confused, then embarrassed.

“When there are customers I just go through the back door,” Yukine said. With a sheepish smile, Yukine pointed to the back door. They heard Masaomi greet the happy couple. Sharing a look, the two were out of her brother’s house. Before she could follow the length of the wall, Yukine caught her attention.

“This way,” Yukine flapped his hand. Giggling, Hiyori followed him to a hole in the bushes and through the neighbor’s yard.

“He has windows all along the side of his house,” Yukine explained, “you don’t want clients to think that we’re stealing.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” Hiyori laughed. The teen rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have no idea. Yato doesn’t like me walking home late and would try to make me stay here until he was done. If I tried to escape by the windows, he would catch me every time.” Yukine said. He didn’t see the way Hiyori’s face scrunched at the thought of having to escape someone who wouldn’t let him go home. She remembered Yato, always dressed in black, with a bruise or two, and hoped Yukine didn’t always feel the need to hide.

“I’m sure he was just worried,” Hiyori tried. Yukine straightened up as they reached his bike.

“He’s always worried! He’s like a mother hen,” Yukine said with puffed out red cheeks. In spite of herself, Hiyori let out a snort, smiling at the thought.

“That’s good though,” Hiyori said. Yukine sighed and grumbled out a response, kicking up his kickstand but not getting on. At the same time, their stomachs growled.

“It looks like he’s gonna be awhile. Do you want to come over for lunch?” Yukine offered. He watched her perk up at the offer.

“Oh, uh I don’t want to impose,” Hiyori trailed off.

“You’re not! It’s a bakery afterall, we have sandwiches and stuff,” Yukine insisted. With that, Hiyori agreed and let the teen lead the way. They walked down the hill towards town, Yukine pushing his bike with Hiyori on his other side. She noticed the bike had silver snowflakes on it, similar to the designs she saw on one of Masaomi’s papers. The thought made her smile.

“So, Yukine,” Hiyori started, “my brother told me a little about you but he tends to embellish.”

“Oh, what did you hear?”

“Umm,” Hiyori tried to think of where to start, “you were adopted by Yato while he was abroad?” She noticed the way Yukine tensed and quieted. That bad feeling came back and Hiyori readied herself to defend the child once she saw Yato again. But instead, Yukine looked ahead with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I was. I lived in France with my family but my mom was from here, so she taught my sister and I the language. I used to hang around the college where Yato was studying cause that’s where my sister used to go. Once he found out I could understand him, he would give me pasties in exchange for me basically being his translator slash teacher. After school I would go to his house and he would make me what he learned that day or let me taste his homework. By the time he was interning, I was living with him.” Yukine spoke fondly, but his tone conveyed that there was sorrow.

“That’s really sweet. But what about your parents?” She remembered Masaomi mentioned Yukine was rather rebellious and why would they let some random student adopt him and take him far away?

“They’re both- out of the picture,” Yukine watched his feet, “and my sister met some guy in her first year and I haven’t heard from her since.” They were silent as Hiyori hummed and bit her lip. She pried too much and felt sorry for bringing up bad memories.

“Well lucky you, you were scooped up by a baker. I’m sure helping him with his homework was fun,” she smiled when Yukine huffed a laugh, “and you like it here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. I knew enough about this culture. I just had to get used to all the new people and a new home. There were some other things but Yato helped me through them so I’m good now.”

“O-oh! That’s good, I’m glad!” Hiyori said. The bakery was coming up on the right, a square pink building with the name ‘Kofuku’s’ in calligraphy on the front. Yukine walked her up to the back of the store and chained his bike. They approached the medal door just as the building shook with a large boom and a crash. Frozen, they stared at the door with Yukine’s hand still on the handle. Only when he sighed, a loud noise over the shouting from inside, did Hiyori turn her focus onto him.

“It’s a little hectic inside. The owner is clumsy and tends to cause disasters in the kitchen. The mess from this morning was supposed to be cleaned, but who knows. Please excuse it.” Yukine said, his voice exasperated. Before Hiyori could respond, Yukine pushed the door in and entered, leaving Hiyori to cough through a cloud of smoke.

“Kofuku, why, why, why?” Someone weeped, “I told you to stay out of the kitchen! Look at them, my creations are ruined!”

“It’s not my fault! I finished cleaning your cooking sheets and I wanted to bring them to you! But when I passed by the oven I saw the same pies were in the oven and I thought they would cook faster if I turned up the heat.” A tiny woman with curly pink hair tried to hide her giggles behind a hand as she attempted to placate a young man on the floor. He was on his knees with his head down, holding an oven rack with five mini burnt circles.

“Chocolate Chess Pie needs to bake for 25 minutes before I lightly spray the tops with my home-made syrup and put them back in for 45 minutes so that I can spray them again,” the man raised his head, “I can’t spray these again!” He wailed. The young woman laughed and went over to clean his face with a rag. From Hiyori’s side, Yukine scoffed in disgust and went in to put his cooler away. Behind Yukine, a large man came from the front of the store and looked at the two on the floor with an eye roll. He wore a pink shirt that matched Yukine’s with the name Daikoku stitched on and light khakis. The man had slick back brown hair and brown eyes with peach fuzz. With a swift motion, he took the rack from off the floor and let the burnt pies slide into the trash.

“Yukine, you finish your deliveries?” Daikoku asked.

“Yeah!” Yukine said, “oh, and also I brought-” A loud timer rang throughout the kitchen and the young man, now with a clean face, shot up off the floor.

“Ah! My ham and cheese puff pastry slab pie!” He effused. Hiyori flinched when a whirlwind of white came barreling at her. That’s when she was finally noticed and the man came to a screeching halt. Letting out a squeak, Hiyori stepped back when he stopped nearly two inches from her nose and stared with wide eyes. They were just as blue as she remembered. But his face had changed, the narrow eyes fit better on a face with a sharp jawline and strong chin, lacking any baby fat. His hair also grew an inch or two since they talked, brushing over his ears and eyes.

“You’re,” Yato’s eyes widened, “Masaomi’s sister! Hiyori!” She was shocked he remembered her- when she didn’t- but the thought spread warmth throughout her body.

“H-hey, Yato. It’s been a while,” Hiyori smiled. He stepped back and they let out a breath of air, grinning at each other like idiots. Neither of them noticed the room watching them closely, the men turning pink from second-hand embarrassment while the young woman grinned.

“Ooo,” the young woman slithered between them and smirked, “My name’s Kofuku, I’ve heard about you from Masaomi. But I didn’t know you were friends with Yatty! What are the chances, huh?” Her eyes flickered to Yato and he looked to the side. When Kofuku turned that sly face on her, Hiyori felt her face warm up as well.

“Ah, yes, well, I only talked to him once at a party for Masaomi. I’m surprised to find him here as a baker, giving his company to my brother no less.” Hiyori gave a light laugh while Kofuku hummed.

“I’m a pâtissière,” Yato groaned.

“You’re a pain in the rear, is what you are,” Diakoku called in from the front. It was Yato’s words that caught Hiyori’s attention and she spun around.

“Ah, what about your-” Hiyori began. Luckily, instead of another smoking oven, Hiyori saw Yukine had already removed Yato’s creations and was munching on one as they spoke. The treats were a thin strip of bright golden brown with a fluffy exterior and a cheesy interior. Hiyori felt her mouth water involuntarily as they reminded her how hungry she was.

“Do you want some?” Yato spoke close to her ear. Hiyori yelped and looked at his grin with red-tipped ears. They looked at each other for a moment before Hiyori remembered he asked her a question.

“Oh! Uh, no, I couldn’t, they’re for the customers after all.”

“Customers?” Yato tilted his head, “Those aren't for sale. That’s just our brunch!” He laughed and moved aside so she could have a clear view of Yukine and Kofuku munching on the food. Even Daikoku dipped in to grab three before returning to the front desk.

“Well, if it’s okay with you,” Hiyori said. Despite her best attempts at tact, Hiyori’s feet were already leading her to the delicious smell.

“Yattsh foom ish always sho yummy,” Kofuku said around a mouthful. Hiyori hummed amusingly as she picked one up. She looked to Yukine- who had a bit more self control than Kofuku- munching on his second one. The only opinion he had was the pleasurable hum he let out once he bit into it, his eyes still closed to focus on the taste. Just to make sure, Hiyori glanced at Yato only to find him staring at her with an even bigger grin.

“Eh?” Yato coaxed. His eyebrows went up and he tilted his head towards the pan while keeping his gaze on her. Hiyori couldn’t help but snort and roll her eyes, picking one up. The pastry was just as fluffy as it looked. Her teeth sunk into it easily and warmth spread across her tongue. It was easy to let out a moan that didn’t have her embarrassed until after her third bite. A string of cheese stretched from her mouth to the food and Hiyori caught Yato’s eye over it. It took her more time than she’d like to chew and swallow the bite; Yato’s intense look made it difficult.

“So,” Yato smiled, “you like it?”

‘Do I like it?’ Hiyoti found that question haunting her for the rest of the day. Her time at the bakery was so fun she ended up staying well past closing. Throughout that time, Hiyoi found that she had been stuffed to the brim with food. Turns out Daikoku was also a baker, sticking primarily to breads, while Yato handled the pastries. They had a bread competition with Hiyori as the impartial judge, since Kofuku always voted for her husband and Yukine voted for his whiny guardian.

She had to admit, the local baker knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, Yato’s wounded pride caused him to present her with desserts to try, each more extravagant than the last. He even presented some new ones that no one but him had even heard of. In a single night, Yato’s pastries took her around the world, each absolutely delicious. Yet no matter how much food they gave her, that first bite was the one she couldn’t forget.

Did she like it? What kind of question was that? Hiyori found herself obsessed. Now she laid in bed, glaring at the morning sun on her ceiling, hungry for one thing. Frustrated, Hiyori threw off the covers and put on her slippers. She went down the stairs with a bit more force than necessary and searched the kitchen with a discerning eye. The sound of her stomping brought Masaomi out of his work space. He gave her a quirk of an eyebrow from over his mug.

“Were we too loud last night?” He took a guess. Hiyori sighed, she must have looked like she didn’t get much sleep last night, scowling with messy hair. Yato walked her home once she decided to leave -since he promised to meet with Masaomi anyway- and to make sure she didn’t get lost. They separated soon after walking through the door, Yato smiling and waving as she walked up the stairs. No they weren’t too loud last night, in fact she couldn’t hear them at all once she shut her door. The thing preventing her from sleeping was the thought of Yato being just downstairs. She would have done anything for a snack before bed with a cup of tea. And maybe to ask Yato about his time in France, his work, his kid, or his personal life.

“No,” Hiyori mumbled. She glared at the floor for a bit before smoothing out her brow and looking back at her brother. He was grinning at her, wide and knowing, it brought red to her cheeks. He said nothing as he walked towards the counter and set his cup down with a clink.

“You know,” he started, “the bakery opened at eight. We can go have breakfast if you want to.” Masaomi said nonchalantly. A zip of excitement shot up Hiyori’s spine and hit her heart. Immediately, the thought of a fluffy pastry held out by a blue-eyed man came to mind and Hiyori had to fight a smile.

“Would he even be awake?” Hiyori jolted when her brother smiled wider, “Th-they! Are they, anyone, awake?”

“Seeing as the store is open, I imagine someone would be awake. But if you’re asking about a specific business partner of mine, he’s usually with Daikoku in the kitchen by seven.” Masaomi finished his cup and left it in the sink, walking past a flustered sister stating he would be getting dressed and heading over there. Hiyori refused to look up from the floor until her brother was safely in his room upstairs.

The Iki siblings didn’t talk on their walk to Kofuku’s, the smile on Masaomi’s face hadn’t gone away and Hiyori wouldn’t look at him until it did. The front of Kofuku’s Bakery was small and cute, its windows covered in children’s doodles and some local flyers. A bell rang welcoming them inside, Hiyori walked across a black and white checkered floor up to two large glass containers stacked with pastries of all kinds. The familiar sight almost made her full but her stomach quickly reminded her otherwise. Kofuku was alone behind the counter, chewing on a cinnamon roll. She perked up when she saw them outside, trying her best to swallow the food in her cheeks while waving them in.

“Good morning you two!” Kofuku greeted, cheerily. Her words caught the attention of the people eating their breakfast at the small wooden tables.

“Morning Kofuku,” Masaomi smiled, “Is Yato here?”

“Oohohoh! Yatty huh?” Kofuku’s eyes slid to Hiyori and back, “For you or?” They stalled as Hiyori tensed only to burst into laughter.

“We’re only teasing Hiyori,” Masaomi said, trying to ease his sister’s wrath.

“You might be, Massi,” Kofuku winked. They shared another laugh as Hiyori’s body temperature rose. Eventually Kofuku took pity on her and reached her hand out.

“Yatty’s in the back, you’re welcome to go. Just be super careful of the hot ovens,” Kofuku smiled and gestured towards the kitchen door. Unable to say anything, Hiyori just shut her mouth and walked to the door, turning her nose up at the snickers behind her.

When the door pushed open, a warm waft of air hit her carrying the scent of fresh bread. To the left, Daikoku was hard at work in front of an old stone oven, moving around loafs with a large wooden spatula. His hair was held back by a white rag tied around his head, sweat beaded his brow and the exposed arms under his rolled up chef sleeves. As a closet wrestling fan, Hiyori could appreciate the image, but she was looking for something else. Off to her right was a tray of various shaped pastries, Yato leaning over them with a tube of frosting. It wasn’t until he looked up with big blue eyes, frosting smeared across his nose, that Hiyori felt that something jolt her heart.

“Hiyori!” Yato beamed.

“Hello Yato, Daikoku,” Hiyori greeted as she walked in. Daikoku waved to her before focusing his attention back to his bread. Yato stood as she went over to him, watching her admire the colorful baking sheets on the table.

“Classic fruit and cream cheese pastries,” Yato said, “Try one!” He smiled at her when she hummed. It would be impolite to decline, especially when she was so hungry and they looked so delicious. She plucked a blueberry one off the paper and took a bite, moaning her appreciation through her teeth. Next to her, Yato swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry.

“You like it?” He gurgled out with a cough.

“Mmm mm!” Hiyori hummed with a smile. Blinking once, Yato laughed good naturedly.

“Well good! I’m glad!” He grinned.

“Hiyori! I’m heading out!” Masaomi called from behind the door.

“Okay!” Hiyori replied.

“Yato, don’t touch my sister! Or do anything weird to her!” Masaomi’s voice echoed throughout the bakery, “if you do I’ll mix some of your salt and sugar jars without telling you and when you least expect it!” Masaomi’s threat did its job. From beside a bright-faced Hiyori, Yato gasped like he found out his father was Darth Vader.

“No! Why would you even think of something so awful!” Yato scurried to the pantry, trying to hide all his baking needs behind boxes of cereal. Daikoku sighed and shook his head, coming over to pat the young woman on the shoulder as her brother cackled and Yato mumbled consperiousys. Daikoku left the kitchen, only to poke his head in and announce Masaomi was gone and that he wouldn’t be allowed to mess with the bakers’ ingredients.

With Hiyori’s gentle coaxing, Yato finally finished with the frosting. At some point, he went into a long winded commentary of how he made the frosting and why he cut the fruit the way he did. Hiyori smiled throughout his entire explanation, listening to every word. Tips and tricks on cooking were always interesting. But the way Yato talked about his craft, so passionate and excited, there was no way she couldn’t listen. As they moved on to wrapping each treat in plastic, Yato asked her about her life. Things she did, things she liked or didn’t, her friends. It was then Hiyori realised that he was just as invested in what she had to say as she was. It was nice.

“So, where’s Yukine?” Hiyori asked.

“Probably still in bed like the teenager he is,” Yato huffed, “Sundays are his one day off from both work and prep school. But he’ll probably help out later anyway.”

“That’s sweet,” Hiyori said, genuinely.

“Yeah. Just in time for the croissants.” Yato looked fondly towards one of the ovens but Hiyori had a feeling he wasn’t smiling at the pastries.

“Are they his favorite?”

“No, but they remind him of home so I make sure to keep them stocked. Kofuku burnt yesterday's entire batch so I had to stay late to re-make them.” Yato spoke as he gathered the wrapped treats. Hiyori hummed in response, touched by the notion. The man got up early to work, stayed late with her brother, then continued making food for the next day. Kofuku perked up when they both pushed through the kitchen door.

“Aw, thank you Hiyori!” Kofuku said.

“You’re welcome!” Hiyori answered. She was lucky her voice didn’t crack when Yato took the rest of the pastries out of her arms. His fingers brushed against her and Hiyori realized just how good sugar and bread can smell. Luckily, Hiyori’s phone rang and she was able to excuse herself from looking at Yato’s backside and Kofuku’s smirk to sit at a table by the window. Her phone told her it was her co-worker and highschool friend, Yama. They greeted each other cheerily, Hiyori trying to keep her voice down while Yama only increased in volume. Through her friend’s squealing, Hiyori could make out that Yama’s high school sweetheart proposed to her.

“Yama! That’s amazing! Congratulations!” Hiyori gushed. She looked around to see if she was disturbing anyone, only to catch Yato staring at her from behind the counter. He snapped out of it when Kofuku jabbed his side and gave her an awkward wave. Hiyori choked back a laugh and gave a light wave back. Yama asked her what was so funny as Hiyori watched him scurry back into the kitchen. As the door shut behind him, a thought struck her.

“Hey, I know this is premature, but you’re going to need a wedding planner, right?”

“Ah! You’re right I will! Why, you have someone in mind?”

“Well my brother got a new job,” Hiyori continued before her friend could groan, “but it wouldn’t be him doing it! My brother would just be helping cause he’s in training! At the very least, I can vogue for the pâtissière.”

“The what?”

“The cake!” Hiyori giggled, “the baker?” She sent a silent apology to Yato as her friend hummed in understanding. There were a couple beats of quiet and Hiyori worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Let me guess, it’s one of Masaomi’s friends?” Yama said without malice.

“One from college. Did I ever tell you about Yato?” Hiyori was shocked when Yama let out a sound that had Hiyori feeling embarrassed.

“The one with the blue eyes? Who was really polite and didn’t seem to fit in at all with Masaomi’s friends? With the bruises and battle scars? The one with really blue eyes, like he’s albino but not, that contrasted with his black hair-” Yama stopped when Hiyori hissed out gibberish. Steam from her burning face seeped through the phone as she recalled her words from highschool.

“Yeah I remember him,” Yama finally relented, “he’s the only one you talked about when Ami and I asked you if there were any cute guys there. Knowing you, you probably forgot.” She could practically hear the grin in Yama’s voice when Hiyori couldn’t produce a rebuttal. Her friend reminded her of a certain pink-haired bakery owner.

“Well he’s a wedding planner, dress maker, and pâtissière. I’m sure he would be willing to work if you needed it, but it’s just a suggestion.” Hiyori said primly. The friends dissolved into giggles, giddy on the thought of a wedding.

“But seriously Hiyori. I’ll think about it but the wedding won’t be for a while! We’re sticking to the plan of Ami being my maid of honor, me being your MOH, and you being Ami’s. She’s still seeing that guy from her micro-bio class so you’re the only one left! Take the time before my big day to smooze that cake guy so you can bring him as a date! Maybe even get me a discount!” Yama’s declaration had Hiyori sputtering.

“A year to what? Yama, please, he’s just Masaomi’s business partner. I’m not-”

“Oh his partner, huh? That means you’ll be seeing him a lot while you stay there, right? How long are you there for anyway?”

“Well I packed for the month but my classes are online so, I mean,” Hiyori drifted off as she thought. She came here with the knowledge that she might stay past her vacation but med school was much easier when she had her textbooks with her. The idea of staying with her brother for the year just to talk to some guy was absurd. Not that Masaomi would mind. Plus her textbooks were only a couple hours away.

“Huuuggnn,” Yama purred through the receiver, “Do I hear someone considering it?”

“D-don’t be ridiculous!” Hiyori fought to keep her voice level but Yama knew her too well. Out of the corner of her eye, Hiyori saw Kofuku grin like she could hear every word.

“But you like him, don’t you?” Yama asked. She made it sound so easy. Like Yato was a classmate she saw every day for years rather than her brother’s friend she talked to for a couple days at most. Hiyori’s mouth worked for some excuse, some reason the idea was absurd, but all she could think of was she wouldn’t mind bringing Yato to the wedding. Yama would love him and he would make the day that much more fun. Even just going on a date with him was something she could get excited about. Hiyori was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see Yukine approach until he set down a plate of food in front of her.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything,” Hiyori said.

“It’s on the house,” Yukine replied.

“Huh? Is that him?” Yama asked, “Yato! Hey! Is that you?” Her voice was loud through the speaker and Yukine quirked his brow, the corner of his lip lifting.

“No! No it isn’t, Yama I have to go,” Hiyori spoke rapidly into her phone.

“Uh huh, sure. I bet it is-”

“Good bye!” Hiyori quickly shut her phone and turned to Yukine with a forced smile, hoping she didn’t scare the kid off. The last thing she wanted was him telling his guardian she was some weirdo that yelled over the phone. If Yukine thought that, or noticed her pink cheeks, he was nice enough not to comment. Instead to her surprise, Yukine sat down across from her with a plate of his own.

“Kofuku said to keep you company,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay! You don’t have to!” Hiyori waved her hands to try to help the equally embarrassed teenager.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Sitting here talking to you is better than trying to help Yato in the kitchen.” Yukine didn’t mean anything by his words but Hiyori still couldn’t help but worry.

“Yukine,” Hiyori got his attention, “do you, um, I mean you get along with Yato, right?” She couldn’t help but lean in with a concerned expression, her feelings about Yato still twinged with minor doubt. The man didn’t seem mean in the slightest, but relationships between a teenager and an adult can be rocky. Especially when the said adult didn’t raise them. Besides, who knows what happens behind closed doors. Yukine jolted back and looked at her with wide eyes.

“We- of course I do! I mean we argue constantly but it doesn’t mean anything. He’s, I mean he, uh, kinda saved me.” Yukine’s words quieted towards the end as he spoke into his lap but Hiyori heard him all the same. She wanted to ask more, but Hiyori figured she pried too much already.

“Well good. You don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just wanted to make sure he was treating you okay, that’s all,” Hiyori hunched her shoulders, “sorry, it’s really none of my business.” She looked up at the boy through her lashes, watching his mouth finally close.

“No! That’s okay! Actually I appreciate you asking. Some people just look away or don’t try to ask so, thank you,” Yukine spoke so honestly Hiyori couldn’t do anything but hum in reply. Whatever funk Yukine fell into, he quickly snapped out of it to munch on the food on his plate. It was only when he brought a very familiar cheesy pastry to his lips that Hiyori whipped her head down to her own plate. There, just as gold brown as she remembered, was the ham and cheese pastry she’s desired. Yukine looked up at her when she grabbed it much too quickly and took a large bite. Feeling caught, Hiyori covered her mouth and tried to swallow faster, putting the warm treat back down.

“You looked like you really liked it yesterday,” Yukine offered, “trust me, I know that face. Cooking happens to be that guy’s one talent and he’s really good at it. The best,” Yukine spoke around his own cheesy breakfast. They munched on their treats a little longer.

“I just wish he’d let me around the oven instead of freaking out.” Yukine rolled his eyes, but smiled goodnaturedly at Hiyori’s giggles. She long since finished her slice of pastry and she noticed Yukine was just about done with his.

“Um, Yato said he finished off a batch of croissants for you. I don’t know if you know,” Hiyori said. Yukine looked up at her with a funny expression.

“Yeah, I know. It was the first thing he made for me when I went over his house. I just walked in the door and he had a pan ready like ‘you were born here so you must like these!’ It was so stupid, that was the first time I actually yelled at him. But now he thinks they’re my favorite so he keeps making them for me and I keep eating them cause, you know,” Yukine was looking at the last bite in his hands, “They’re alright but I prefer the food from here. The stuff he makes for dinner or whatever. I don’t know, the things from home are just better, I think.” Yukine finished with a huff, shoving the rest of the pasty in his mouth. Hiyori felt her smile grow and her heart warm at the thought.

“I understand. The meals my mother makes will always hold a special place in my heart.” Hiyori smiled as Yukine choked and coughed in his hand.

“Yeah, uh,” Yukine’s eyes flickered towards the kitchen and back, “so, uh, how long are you in town?” His question seemingly came out of nowhere but Hiyori didn’t mind.

“For a while. At least a month.”

“So you’re just visiting,” Yukine tried his best to make it seem like he wasn’t prying.

“Well, it’s up in the air. I only came here to visit but there’s no reason I can’t stay a while. I don’t know, I haven’t decided.” Hiyori said. It was true, which was still crazy in itself, but the answer seemed to make Yukine more uncomfortable. His eyes flickered towards the kitchen a couple more times and Hiyori couldn’t help but look. She wouldn’t be surprised if Kofuku was still behind the counter with a teasing smirk but instead Hiyori saw the counter was empty. It was understandable, breakfast and brunch was just about finished and they probably had to prepare for the lunch rush.

“Are you sure it’s okay if you stay?” Yukine hesitated, “I mean don’t you need to go back to your friends, or your boyfriend?” The last word was forced out with as much nonchalance as a teenager could muster. He glared at the kitchen then smoothed his face out to look at Hiyori.

“No, I don’t live that far away and my friends are mostly busy so I can see them anytime. As for a boyfriend, I don’t have to worry about one of those,” Hiyori said. Yukine looked back from the kitchen and smiled.

“I see, that’s good then.” Yukine put on a smile. They chatted for a little while longer before Hiyori said she should check on her brother. Standing, Yukine cleared their plates, Hiyori tried reaching for her wallet.

“It’s on the house,” Yukine said.

“Oh no, that’s okay! You gave me so much already!”

“Nah, it’s cool. They give away so much I have no idea how they stay in business. I think Kofuku’s brother is rich? But, no, don’t worry about it. Everyone saw the way you looked at that ham and cheese puff pastry slab pie,” he paused when Hiyori made a face, “don’t worry. It happens a lot. You might as well get used to it if you’re going to stay a while. Once you get over one dish he’ll just make another, and keep feeding it to you until the process repeats.” Yukine sounded so done with the ordeal and Hiyori laughed. She was already thinking of a work out routine as Yukine waved her out of the bakery.

The door jingled as it shut, alerting Yato that Hiyori finally left. Really, he should have just gone out there and talked with them. But instead he panicked and made profiteroles, hoping they would pass as an award for Yukine. There was no way he could have known Kofuku would tell the kid to talk to Hiyori, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to gather information about the younger Iki. Yato remembered how sweet she was to him when they first met. How she smiled and listened to him when they chatted, giving him more attention in that moment than the entire party- save for Masaomi- gave him combined. But now he had his chance with the girl who didn’t seem to mind listening to his rambling.

The kitchen door pushed open and Yato quickly jumped to the sink only to find there were no dirty dishes. He grabbed a clean plate and got it wet, rubbing it in circles with a damp rag. Yukine walked in with their plates and placed them in the sink. Yato whirled on him so fast the kid flinched back, but his wide eyes quickly narrowed.

“How did it go?” Yato questioned. Shouldering him out of the way, Yukine got to work on the dishes, glaring down at them with a red face.

“She's single,” he gritted out, “and in town for a while.”

“Ah! That’s my boy! Good work!” Yato cheered. He grabbed the kid by his shoulders and shook him, smiling wider when Yukine’s blush stretched to his neck.

“That doesn’t mean anything you know!” Yukine pushed him off, “you actually have to talk to her! You can’t just feed her and have your kid go hang out with her!”

“Of course I can! Everyone knows the quickest way to a woman’s heart is with sweets and good parenting!” Yato sang, He easily dodged his kid’s attacks and Yukine went back to drying the dishes.

“So,” Yato spoke, “what do you think?”

“What do I think? About your chances?” Yukine scoffed despite catching on to Yato’s more serious tone.

“Do you like her?” Yato asked. Yukine stopped at the question before carefully putting the dried dishes away.

“She’s really nice.” Yukine said. That was enough for Yato, he smiled at the back of his kid and thought about a brown-haired med student. The front door rang and Yato’s head snapped towards the noise. Kofuku and Daikoku went to lunch so that was his cue.

“Okay! Make sure you finish your summer work! There’s croissants for you already in the toaster-oven!” Yato said as he disappeared through the door, leaving a smiling Yukine to fiddle with the toaster.

After a month or so, Masaomi and Yato’s clients were just about finished with their preparations. By now, Hiyori was aware that Yato worked fast, and with Masaomi’s help the wedding was ready to go in about two weeks. Hiyori stood in Masaomi’s kitchen, a large cookie tray covered with raw puff pastry dough, ham, and shredded cheese. Next to the pan, taped to the counter, was an index card Kofuku used to paint the titles of pastries in the casing. One side was the fun, colorful title of the puff pastry and on the back was Yato’s neat handwriting of the recipe. He had given it to her out of the blue, smile on his face as he insisted she take it just in case.

“It’s not like it’s a secret or anything!” He had said, “and I rather you use my delicious recipe than some naviance online.” They had grinned at each other like giddy fools, Hiyori thanking him profusely and laughing at his contagious laughter. She triple checked the recipe and it’s instructions before rolling up the pastry and brushing it with her egg mixture. Her brother’s regular oven would have to do as she slipped in her creation and shut the door; Hiyori set the timer for 25 minutes and waited. Feeling accomplished, Hiyori stretched her arms above her head, letting her pajamas rise above her belly button.

“You’re up early,” Masaomi said as he walked in. Hiyori whirled around and tried not to look guilty.

“Yep. I, uh, made breakfast!” Hiyori gestured to the oven. Her brother walked towards the tiny island and looked at the index card. He swiped it before she could grab it and scanned it over with a sly smirk.

“Made breakfast for who?” Masaomi held up the card, “this handwriting looks just like my notes.” His eyes looked her up and down as the blush on her cheeks darkened. Instead of looking at him, she glared at the evidence.

“He was nice enough to give it to me since I liked it so much. I made some for us and as a thank you I’m bringing the rest over to share with everyone.” Hiyori explained. The male hummed in an unconvinced way but said nothing more, making his way to the coffee maker.

“Is that right?” Masaomi drawled, “You got up with just enough time to finish by the time they got up to make the bread. Early, early.” Hiyori ignored how her fingers twitched. He sounded just like their mother. That tone conveying he knew she started this process at seven am, not including the prep she did last night.

“A coincidence,” Hiyori insisted. She ignored her brother’s second hum and started cleaning. There was a playfully-tense silence between them as dishes clinked together. Once she was finished, Hiyori made her way towards the stairs

“By the way, Yato should be staying late with me tonight just to go over everything again. He usually stays in the room you’re using,” the grin was wide, “if you felt like sharing.”

“Masaomi!”

As much as her brother teased, Hiyori really was nervous to let him try it. She knew Yato better in the days she spent doing her work in the bakery and Yato doing his work in the Iki home. She knew the professional would only applaud her efforts and that made her feel better. But her hands still grew sweaty as she stood at Kofuku’s back door with a container of this morning’s batch of ‘Yato’s Greatly-Fantastic Ham and Cheese Puff Pastry Slab Pie.’ Sucking in a deep breath, Hiyori chose to knock instead of opening the door. She’s never been here this early and- now that she thought about it- they were probably busy. Before Hiyori could retract her decision, the door creaked open to reveal Yukine, instead of Kofuku like she was expecting.

“Hiyori,” Yukine was clearly surprised, “good morning.”

“G-good morning, Yukine,” Hiyori greeted. He moved aside and let her in. She smiled at his school uniform and he adjusted his backpack with a self conscious smile. Daikoku was hard at work with several lumps of dough, tending to the fire in the oven every now and again. He waved to her, other hand covering a yawn. Hiyori waved back before her eyes automatically looked towards Yato’s workstation.

“Oh wow!” Hiyori gasped. Yato’s table was cleared to leave room for a tall, three-tier wedding cake. The pâtissière was creating bundles of roses against smooth white frosting. Hiyori knew that the wedding was themed ‘Romantic Pink’ so the buttercream flowers Yato made were different shades of pastel blush. The top was decorated with an edible pink bow that cascaded down the first tier while the bottom layer was covered in matching swiss dots. It was simple, elegant, and absolutely lovely for a wedding.

“Hey,” Yato poked out from behind the tower, “you’re here early. Not that I’m complaining.” He put the pastry bag down and gave her his full attention. Beside her, Yukine rolled his eyes and walked over to compare the cake to a sketch on the table.

“I, uh,” Hiyori turned her eyes to the floor as he approached. She felt Daikoku looking over his shoulder and Yukine peaking over the paper, watching the two communicate as best they could. She was used to this by now, they rarely had chances alone without people eavesdropping and teasing. But she found that as they talked more and more, it was easier to shut them out and be in their own little world. Yato’s smile was welcoming and his eyes were so warm, Hiyori was able to proudly hand him her container.

“I made the ham and cheese pastries!” Hiyori said. Eyes round, Yato’s face lit up.

“You did? Really? That’s amazing!” Yato rejoiced, “Can we have some now, please?” He practically wriggled at the thought, running to get some plates before Hiyori could answer.

“Oh, Hiyori made the breakfast thing! Nice!” Daikoku flashed her a smile that Hiyori couldn't help but return, “but wait, there’s not enough.” He looked over her slices as Yato got out the plates.

“Not enough?” Hiyori quickly ran the numbers, “There’s four of you, isn’t there?”

“No, there’s five!” Yato pouted. At first, Masaomi came to mind but Hiyori quickly noticed the boys were all looking at her.

“Wha- me? Oh, no, that’s okay! I made it for you guys!”

“But that’s no fun. What’s the point of eating your cooking if we can’t all enjoy it together?” Yato said. He looked genuinely hurt that she didn’t consider herself but Hiyori really didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Still, she was touched, he wanted to eat her food with her; and flattered he considered this easy dish ‘her cooking.’

“Please don’t worry about me! I just want to know what you think,” Hiyori said to Yato. His cheeks pinked and Daikoku covered whatever gag noise almost escaped Yukine’s mouth.

“I’ll love it, no matter what you make!” Yato’s sudden declaration made everyone’s faces match the red velvet cakes in the front. Hiyori couldn’t take it.

“I-I want to know all your opinions!” Hiyori shut her eyes and winced at the strangled sound that erupted from Yato. She opened her eyes when Yukine let out a loud sigh behind her, arms crossed.

“As- entertaining- as this has been, I have to get to school. So I won’t be able to give you feedback when I eat it.” Yukine said, “I’m sorry Hiyori.” The teen gave her a look of regret. Hiyori waved her hands, giving Yukine a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Yukine! You don’t have to eat it. School is important,” Hiyori said.

“But I do want to try what you make. I promise, whatever you make next time for sure.” Yukine smiled with his hands put together. He was already expecting her to make them something again, how sweet.

“Okay, sounds good.”

“And don’t worry about what that guy says, he gets excited over junk food.” Yukine huffed, “n-not that your food will be junk, or anything.”

“Thank you,” Hiyori giggled. They ignored Yato’s cries of defense of his various tastes. Straightening his tie, Yukine made his way towards the front exit.

“Don’t leave without breakfast!” Yato insisted, “you need that brain food!” He smiled as Yukine gritted his teeth at his guardian.

“I already grabbed a croissant!”

“Take two! You’ll be hungry!” Yato’s words went without a response, but Yukine grabbed another pastry without looking back. The adults let out a sigh of amusement as the front door jingled with Yukine’s exit.

“I’ll go get the missus then,” Daikoku said, “she’s a real demon in the morning.”

“Oh you don’t have to-” Hiyori tried to say. But Daikoku was out the door leading to their upstairs apartment. The kitchen was silent and Hiyori was made aware of the sudden alone time she had with Yato. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet, the tense air picking up her heart rate and warming her cheeks.

“Do you want a fork?” Yato’s voice cracked.

“Huh?” Hiyori whipped around to look at him, shaky hands putting the pastries on the plates. Yato’s cheeks were flushed and he had a hard time looking at her. Swallowing, Yato pointed in a drawer.

“Forks?” He put on a crooked smile.

“Ah yes! Forks!” Hiyori perked up, “Yes I would like a fork, please. Thank you.” An awkward smile grew on her face as well, which only brightened the hue in her own cheeks. Yato was the first to sputter, blowing out a raspberry before snickering. He tried to cover his mouth, lips pressing together, but Hiyori’s snort had him cackling. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and soon she was leaning against Yato’s shoulder and wiping away tears. They bumped into each other as they raced to the counter, playfully pushing each other out of the way as they reached for a plate of food.

“Oooo, I’m gonna try it!” Yato sang. He waved the pastry towards his mouth like an airplane, grin splitting his face.

“You don’t get to try it if you’re just going to tease me!” Hiyori tried to grab it out of his hand, only for Yato to lean away from her.

“I’m not going to tease you! It’s really yummy, see?” Yato gave it a long sniff, “Mmm yummy!” He snickered as Hiyori let out another unattractive snort and shoved him.

“I’m serious!” Hiyori resisted the urge to stomp her foot as he smirked down at her.

“So am I,” Yato said. Their laughter died down as he put some space between them. Hiyori watched him bring the treat to his lips and bite. There were a couple beats of silence as Yato chewed, Hiyori biting her own lip while he tasted. Finally, Yato let out a pleasurable moan of his own. Hiyori’s body tensed.

“It’s delicious,” Yato praised, “three different cheese? you did it perfectly. Good job.” He spoke so honestly that Hiyori couldn’t help but believe him.

“Thank you,” she replied softly. They smiled at each other for a couple moments before Yato adopted a look of bashfulness.

“So, um, Hiyori,” Yato eyed the pastry in his hand, “you know your brother did a really good job on his friend’s wedding.”

“Wait, his friend’s wedding?” Hiyori asked. Yato blinked at her like she detailed his train of thought.

“Yeah, one of the guys from that party a while ago? Masaomi had just started helping me when he called your brother with the news. I figured it was a good chance for him to start, since the guy probably won’t get too mad if he screws up.” Yato explained. He watched her mouth open and close, then hum in understanding.

“I didn’t know that,” Hiyori told him. Now that she thought of it, that was much more reasonable than what her brother had explained to her. Leave it to Masaomi to exclude important details.

“Yeah, ha-ha,” Yato watched his thumbs dance with each other, “so, um, Masaomi and I are kinda already invited to the wedding as guests. But he’s gonna go as ‘the planner’ so I’ll just be a guest and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me? Just to, you know, see how well your brother’s work goes and all.” Listening to his words was like riding on a rollercoaster. Some parts went fast while others were slow, the volume rising and falling. Once Hiyori separated his jumbled sentences steam rose from her head. In the midst of her embarrassment, Hiyori wanted to laugh. Here she was trying to convince herself to ask Yato to her friend's wedding only for the pâtissière to beat her to it. Still, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She had to push her burning face aside and look directly at his.

“On one condition,” Hiyori began.

“Yeah?” Yato’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Regardless of whether or not my friend asks you to plan her wedding, you have to come with me as my date.” Hiyori said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Yato took a moment to close his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, then his face split into a wide smile.

“Are you kidding? For a second guaranteed date, I’ll plan your friend's wedding for free!” Yato laughed but Hiyori knew he was serious. Still, she laughed along with him, giddy at the fact he agreed.

“Maybe I’ll even have you help me make the food!” Yato proclaimed. Kofuku and Daikoku finally came out from their hiding spot behind the door, snickering at Hiyori who was adamantly refusing Yato’s suggestion, all while the baker teased. Both their faces just as pink as the roses on the wedding cake, or the ham in a homemade breakfast pastry.

[makbarnes]

Number 11

A/N: a huge thank you to @awesomerextyphoon for beat-reading and for the idea. I really had zero idea what do to woth this and she heloed bunches. Thanks love 😘💘

You tightened your hair around the curler and winced as you accidentally touched the hot iron.

“Why is Tony even throwing this party? Steve would be much happier with a simple private dinner.” You groaned as you fluffed your hair and laid out your makeup over the counter.

“Now now, don’t worry. I have a feeling I want to use a coupon tonight.” Bucky leaned against the doorway with his tie loosely hanging around his neck.

“Better not be another toy for me to wear. I don't know if I can keep a straight face for the press.” You smiled as Bucky leaned down to your ear and kissed softly.

“Might be a gift for the birthday boy.” You grabbed his chin down towards you and teased his bottom lip with your tongue before pushing him back to finish getting ready. You winked as Bucky left the room and you finished getting ready. Bucky knocked on Steve’s door and brought him in for a hug in the hallway. “Ready for your present?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Come on. I have a plan.” Bucky led Steve down to the lab and smiled as he opened the undercover equipment. “Take this and put this one.”

“Roleplay?”

“Look at you catching on. My take on it. Remember when Nat tricked Pierce and disguised herself as one of the board members?”

“Her best trick yet, if I say so myself.”

“We are switching roles for the night. Put one of the masks on, I’m putting one on myself.”

“Buck, are you sure this is the best thing to be doing the night of a party?”

“Want your gift or not Birthday boy?” Bucky chuckled as he slipped the mesh over Steve’s face. Bucky clicked a button on the side of the mask and Steve’s face changed to match Bucky’s. “Now you’re handsome.”

“Shut Up Punk.”

“Now you shouldn’t call people names. Especially people who are letting you sleep with their wife, Jerk.” Bucky slipped one over his face and instantly turned into Steve. They shared a sly smile before walking upstairs to spot you already at the bar mixing drinks for everyone. You threw a wink across the room to the two men as you switched places with the hired bartender.

“Nothing against Tony, but he should really hire someone with a heavy hand. The Avengers like it strong.” You straightened up to peck a quick kiss onto ‘Bucky’s’ cheek and smiled as the two men led you in front of the press. Better to get the questions over with now then later when you couldn’t see straight. You adjusted your dress as you locked arms with both men and posed as the lights flashed. You smiled and hugged closer to ‘Bucky’ as you laid a hand on his chest. ‘Steve’s’ hand dropped lower to give a gentle squeeze to your ass that made you freeze in place.

“{Y/N}!? {Y/N}?! What do you have to say about Sharon’s allegations of you sleeping with both men out of time?!”

“Sharon is envious of what I clearly can get. I am neither confirming or denying the fact let’s just say they may be from the past but they BOTH still have moves.” You winked for the cameras and laughed as you looked up to ‘Bucky’.

“Steve!? Have you had your eye on the director position ever since Maria resigned?”

“No, I’d prefer to be out in the field doing the work that really matters.”

“But if you were offered?”

“Even if they begged and pleaded. I like being out there first hand and saving the people that really matter.”

“What about you James? Director?”

“Haha! I highly doubt they would put me in charge. HYDRA’s ex fist? Not a good look. If I had to nominate anyone it would be Stark or {Y/N}.” You rolled your eyes at your ‘husband’s’ comment and laced your fingers with his own.

“Last question for all of you. The mayor has been quoted as saying that the American Trio has been using stolen government weapons to aid them in their battles. Is this true? If so, what are your next steps?”

“If you want to be technical about it then yes, the government did make the serum that courses through our veins, they also made Steve’s shield and my own daggers. However, since we travel the world and do the job their military won’t, I think we will be keeping the ‘weapons’ and using them so they can keep their positions.” You chided back with no hesitation.

“The new mayor has always had an issue with all of us ever since he’s been elected. He is making false promises and I can say for sure that nobody on this team ever wanted him in office. I got this serum in 1950, after Erskine and Howard Stark’s energy chamber made me who I am today. What is he going to do to extract it from my blood?” ‘Steve’ chimed up behind you.

“HYDRA forcefully flooded it into my system as well as my wife’s, so technically the only serum that is stolen here is Steve’s and even the government back then pumped it into him. I am sure that the new mayor will respect the fact that we are saving this world and making it a better place. The Military isn’t going to do the things we do, they don’t care about the families and the small children growing up in this world. All they see is a threat to eliminate.” ‘Bucky’s’ hand tightened over your hand and you could feel his anger growing.

“What about the red letters in {Y/N}’s file that he released to the public this afternoon?”

“What…” Your face dropped in worry and the cameras took the opportunity to snap a few pictures. You looked between the men with worry and they moved in front of you to block you from the cameras. You rushed over to Tony and Pepper and they took you downstairs to figure something out.

“Looks like we caught her off guard huh?” The reporter smirked to herself as she held up her mic to the men. The two men shared a look before they each took a deep breath.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” ‘Steve’ chimed in as ‘Bucky’ grabbed his shoulder assuringly. As they both walked downstairs ‘Steve’ stopped ‘Bucky’ and they agreed to take off the mesh until later. Bucky handed his to Steve and made his way down to the bottom level that you had disappeared to.

“Doll? Where are you?”

“Here. I can’t believe they would do that?! So what I have red in my ledger. EVERYONE DOES!”

“Hey, it’s not that bad. It’ll go away in a week. The new mayor just wants people on his side.” Bucky brought you in for a tight hug and kissed the top of your head.

“Tony’s kicking them out.”

“Good.” Bucky calmed you down as he rubbed your back and you focused yourself on his breathing. “So uhm, I had a plan for tonight.”

“With your coupon, I know.”

“Are you still okay with me using it?”

“If anything, use it now. I need to blow off some steam.” You easily moved to straddle Bucky and tilted his head up to connect your own lips with his. Your fingers played in his hair as his hand slid down to cup your ass. You smiled against him as you ran your tongue over his bottom lip and he let you take control. Slipping over every inch of his mouth you moaned as his free hand came up and held the side of your throat. You slid his hand up the bottom side of your dress and tried to lower yourself against his growing area. Bucky stopped you and winked as he pulled away.

“Mind if I stick to my plan?” You let out a heavy sigh as Bucky readjusted your dress. “Don’t worry Doll. You will have plenty of stress relief tonight.” He kissed behind your ear before you stood up and pulled him back upstairs with you. Bucky stopped just before walking around the corner and pulled you against him. “Whatever happens I love you. Don’t let the press get you down. Just enjoy the party and don’t forget to give the birthday boy a dance.” You hugged him tightly before making your way to the bar to grab another drink. Steve waved Bucky over and easily slipped the mesh mask back onto his face.

“I’m gonna warn you now, she is on a rampage tonight. You only get one round. Still gotta take care of my girl.” Bucky switched his face to Steve’s and carted himself off to the bar. You smiled as Natasha handed you a very strong Lemon Drop and gave you a quaint smile.

“It’s okay, Dear. When my files got leaked it was hard at first but at least it’s only a little red.” Natasha joked trying to cheer you up but you could only think about blowing off this worry with Bucky. ‘Steve’ came over to lay a hand on the small of your back and give you a soft kiss on your temple.

“Hey Steve, Can you not grab my ass in front of the press?”

“Can’t help it, D-Angel.”

“Mhm.” You gave him a smirk and winked over at ‘Bucky’ who was busy at the pool table with Thor and Sam. “How ‘bout that dance Birthday Boy?” ‘Steve’ took the drink from your hand and placed it next to his own that he was just drinking for the fun of it. A slow song from the ‘40’s, which was no doubt Steve’s choice, began playing as everyone found a partner. You noticed ‘Bucky’ had whisked Wanda to the floor and smiled as Vision quickly inserted himself between the two. You sent a pouty face over to ‘Bucky’ as ‘Steve’ turned you in a circle. ‘Bucky’ took a drink from his bottle as you danced. You smiled as ‘Steve’ told jokes and you felt this hand creeping downwards.

“It may be your birthday but you have to clear that with my husband.” You looked up at him in question as your hand went over his left sleeve. “Uhm, Steve? Why does it feel like you have Bucky’s arm?”

“Must be imagining it Angel.”

“Oh and I must have “imagined” you almost calling me Doll earlier too?” ‘Steve’ let out a sigh and moved you to the back corner of the dance floor. He reached up under his hairline and turned the mesh off and Bucky smiled at you wickedly. “I KNEW IT! What about downstairs? Please tell me I didn’t do that to Steve.” Bucky covered your mouth and glanced through the crowd to see himself leaning against the bar.

“No, that was me. It’s Steve’s present. Number 11. Roleplay. Please go along with it?”

“Lucky you are both hot.” You kissed him quickly and reset his dial as he turned back into Steve. You smiled as you led him over to ‘Bucky’ and switched their spots. “It’s my Husband’s turn.” Flashing a wink to ‘Steve’ you dragged ‘Bucky’ to the floor and began swaying with him. You angled his hand down to the curve of your ass and locked your fingers around his neck. ‘Bucky’ teased a kiss near your ear and you watched as ‘Steve’ locked his eyes onto the two of you.

“I think your best friend is jealous, Honey.”

“He is just impatient. Think we teased him too much.”

“Oh, that poor baby.” You tucked your face against his chest and instantly knew it was Steve. Your hand locked over his hips, You pulled his pelvis against your own. “Can we blow off some steam now?” ‘Bucky’ gulped heavily as you led him back over to grab a refill on your drink to take to your room. As you waited for the very slow bartender the two men pulled to the side and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She wants to go back to the room.” ‘Bucky’ looked nervous and watched ‘Steve’s’ eye for approval.

“Better enjoy it then. I’ll be right outside, Guarding.” ‘Steve’ laughed as you came behind ‘Bucky’.

“Ready baby?” You hooked arms with him and winked over to ‘Steve’. “Coming Stevie?”

“What?” ‘Steve’s’ eyes blew wide and you held back your laughter, having your own trick up your sleeve.

“It’s your birthday.” Smirking back to ‘Steve’ he quickly followed and let the men lead you to your room. You stretched your arms as you bended in front of ‘Steve’ and smiled as ‘Bucky’ shut the door.

“Okay, masks off.”

“What do you mean Doll?” ‘Bucky’ moved ‘Steve’ back and watched you reach for your zipper.

“Husband want to help me here?” You glanced back to see ‘Bucky’ approaching and you stopped him before he even got close. “I said my husband Stevie.”

“I am your husband.”

“No, you aren’t” You reached up under his hairline and pressed to turn off the mask. “Told you. I know my husband.”

“He told you didn’t he?”

“Maybe, still I would have figured it out myself. Don’t worry you can still use the coupon.” You reached into Steve’s pocket and took the coupon away from him. You picked up the small stack Bucky had left and tucked Number 16 in his pocket. You wrote a date on the back and kissed his cheek. “That’s your present, Gonna have to be put on hold however.”

“That’s no fair. Buck told me I could.”

“Well I want my husband tonight after that shit show with the press. I promise, I’ll rock your world later.” You opened the door and laughed as Steve walked out with a frown on his face. You smiled at Bucky and ripped the coupon in front of him. “Put the mask on.”

“What?”

“You heard me, put the mask back on, you want a roleplay? Let’s roleplay. See how well you can be Steve.” You walked over and began undoing his buttons on his shirt, You kissed his clavicle a few times before you reached up and clicked the mesh back to Steve and brought him down for a kiss.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” You sank down to your knees and ripped off his belt. You looked up at him as Steve and sucked in your bottom lip. “Want this Stevie? You wanna fuck my mouth?”

“Doll.”

“That’s not what Steve calls me.”

“Angel.” You smiled as you licked up his shaft and he groaned as you slipped him into your mouth. Bucky’s metal fingers balled up your hair as he quickly took control and pushed his full length in without warning. You switched your breathing and let him chase his needed finish from the night. You moaned around him and felt tears prick your eyes, You held yourself against his hips and felt your slick coating your thighs. “Buck’s right about this mouth. Shit.”

“Language Stevie.” You pulled yourself back a bit and smiled up at him as you wiped your lips.

“Fuck the language.” He pulled your back against his cock and you took in a deep breath as you swirled your tongue around his shaft and felt his grip tighten in your hair. He held himself deep into your mouth and quickly pulled out of your mouth. Picking you up easily he moved you onto the bed and hovered over you.

“Rough Stevie, I like it.”

“Yeah?” Bucky brought up his metal hand to cup your throat. “Is Buck this rough with you.”

“Even worse, Captain.” You smiled as he pulled your lips together and roughly pressed against your soaking core.

“Stevie, get you this hot baby? You like when the Captain uses you?” You stayed silent as you watched his eyes trace over your body.

“Come on baby, please? Fuck me Stevie, my husband’s gotta get some of me tonight.”

“Oh he will Angel, I promise.” ‘Steve’ winked at you, before he pressed wet kisses over your chest. You arched your back against him as you twirled your legs around his hips. You pulled him against you and tried to lace a hand down to him. He brought your hands back up and held them with his metal hand above your head. “Better behave Angel. Don’t make me tell your husband now?” Bucky smiled, as he easily ripped your underwear off and pushed his hand against you. Rutted your hips against his hand you let out a wanting whine for more.

“Want more baby?”

“Yes. Please.” You brought a hand out and reached up to rip off the mesh mask and threw it to the floor. “Enough play. Fuck me Daddy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky easily flipped you over and pushed your hips up as he pushed himself deep inside of you. You gasped into the pillow as your hands gripped the headboard above you. Your lip dug into your bottom lip as the sound of skin filled the room, Bucky reached up and pulled your lip out of your mouth and teased your tongue with them. Bucky warped his fingers around and pressed rough circles against your clit. Your walls teased him with a finish and he held your hips with force to keep you still.

“Oh! Yes! Shit, right there. Don’t stop baby. Please.” Bucky picked up his speed and angled your back up for him to hit your spot perfectly. Your fingers gripped the sheets while he plowed into you from behind and you felt a white heat growing up your spine. Bucky easily flipped you over, tucked his face against you.

“God , you’re so perfect Doll. I love you.”

“I love you too. Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Your nails dug into his back as white blinded your vision and you pressed a kiss against his neck. Bucky easily finished as your walls squeezed him and he relaxed next to you. “Coupon...well...spent.”

“I feel bad about Steve.”

“Don’t worry, I gave him our tape for the last one. It should hold him.” You and Bucky shared a laugh as he peppered kisses over your chest.

“Round 2?”

“Always.” You rolled over to straddle his hips with a smile.

SERIES MASTERLIST