Love when your partner exists as part of your life in the little ways even when they’re not around

PITCH BLACK DARKNESS

One SHOT

Kim Taehyung x female reader

You know that feeling when you feel like the loneliest person on earth. Like everything is slowly but surely falling apart with just a blow of wind. But you know what‘s worse than that, feeling utterly lonely even when your significant other is right by your side trying with his whole being to convince you that you are worth of being loved and looked after. It feels like I‘m not worth being looked after, not worthy of anything that includes happiness and peace. I just can‘t put my finger on it when this tiredness, this feeling of helplessness took over my heart and life. It painted every lightning color in pitch black. Tae is trying so hard to make me feel better, to make me feel save and hell he was your save place, the only place you ever felt home. Since I was a little child the only feeling that kept me save was the feeling of gettin‘ out of a warm shower into the cold and chilly air wrapped in soft towel much bigger than me. The feeling of coziness and protection inside the towel in contrast of the bitterly cold air. Just thinking about this feeling gives me peace. That‘s how I always saw him, like my warm and cozy towel, my protection from the cold and dangerous world. But everything is mend to be destroyed either by a person, destiny or ourself. In my case it‘s me who‘s unconsciously trying to tear down everything good that kept me sane this whole time, because it‘s better this way. It‘s better to suffer alone instead of dragging the person you love most in the whole damn universe with you. I can feel it, he‘s not the way he used to be, the light inside him disappeared trying to maintain mine that wasn‘t even there from the beginning. His smile is not as prominent as it was, the sparkle in his eyes whenever he talked about something he loved and adored dimmed down.

„Tell me what should I do to make you believe that I love you Y/N? I tried every possible thing to make you believe me. Why can‘t you trust me.“ Tae said, breaking my broken heart into a billion pieces.

I couldn‘t utter a single word. How can I express my emotions, after living like a invincible ghost for so long. Because nobody could care less about what I felt or what I‘ve been through. The only way I could ever respond when I felt like being trapped, was hurting them with words until they don‘t have the urge to care about me.

„What do you expect from me? To accept your love and live with you a happy life without any worries. Let me make it up to you, that‘s not the way the world works. Love doesn‘t make everything better, no it destroys everything. So please do me a favor and leave. Go find someone uncomplicated and someone who‘s in need of your so called love.“ I answered with a stone expression on my face and a icy voice. I couldn‘t look in his chocolate brown eyes. Because I know that he would see right through every lie that i just spit.

He looked pale, hurt and confused, looking for an explanation that could justify your cold behavior towards him.

Bedtime Stories

Penny (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Woo! With this, I have completed a fic for all the Stardew Bachelorettes! Hope ya’ll are ready for Penny time! Word Count: 5,618

(Y/n) stretched their arms way above their head, reveling in the pulling of their back muscles and the dull crack of their spine. They had been out foraging all day and their pack was full of blackberries, mushrooms and nuts. A very good haul.

They shivered a bit as another breeze blew through. The skies had only gone dark about an hour ago, but (Y/n) was ready to call it a night and turn in to their warm and cozy farmhouse.

They walked up the dirt path past Marnie’s ranch to their farm, smiling when they saw the light of their house in the distance. The children must have been giving Penny a hard time tonight. Usually they’d be asleep before (Y/n) got home, but they could get restless on occasion.

As soon as (Y/n)’s boots thudded against the wooden stairs, they could hear excited cries from within, and soon a small head poked out from behind the front door before swinging it fully outward.

(Y/n) flung their arms out to catch the small body that flew into their legs, soon joined by a smaller, more clumsy one.

“You two are up rather late, you aren’t giving your mom a hard time, are you?” (Y/n) asked their children.

“Mommy said we could wait for you if we ate all our veggies at dinner so we did. We did good so we’ll grow up to be strong farmers like you!” The older of the two exclaimed.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/n) grinned.

“Yeah!” The younger child shrilled.

“Well, now that I’m here, it’s time for bed isn’t it?”

A duet of displeased noises met (Y/n)’s ears but they quickly devolved into giggles when the farmer attacked them with tickles. Once the children were disarmed, (Y/n) slung them over their shoulders and bounced them into the house, meeting the loving eyes their spouse gave them from the couch.

Penny sat in a pile of rumpled blankets no doubt put there by their rambunctious children. In her lap was a book of fairy tales that usually served her well when bedtime came around but tonight it seemed it was not enough.

“Hi, love. Welcome home.” Penny smiled sweetly, getting up to meet (Y/n) halfway. She hugged them around the middle before lightening their load by taking the smaller child off their hands.

“Hi sweetheart, how was your day?” The farmer asked, setting down their eldest child so they could remove their bag and boots.

“It went well. The children were so diligent with their studies. I was very impressed.” Penny said, making sure the kids were aware of how proud she was of their work.

“That’s great! I’m really proud of you two.” (Y/n) praised their children while they glowed with pride.

“So we can stay up late and watch tv?” The eldest asked hopefully, the parents merely laughed at the suggestion, making the children pout.

“Afraid not, sleep is very important and I think now would be a good time to hit the hay.” (Y/n) said, already trying to corral the kids into their bedroom.

“Not yet! We want a story at least!” The younger proclaimed, agreement was quickly voiced by their older sibling. Rarely it seemed they could come to a consensus so quickly.

“Oh? Well, I suppose one story wouldn’t hurt.” (Y/n) agreed. “Go brush your teeth first, please.”

The children toppled over each other, trying to get to the sink first so they could rush back to the living room.

“They have so much energy.” Penny remarked with a content sigh, leaning into (Y/n)’s side.

“No kidding,” (Y/n) chuckled, rubbing Penny’s arm, “I could have really used the extra help in my first year of living here. Now I’ve got auto-feeders and sprinklers. A little late for fall, but I suppose they could help with the spring planting, maybe that would slow them down a bit.”

“Shhh, it’ll be a long winter and I don’t need to hear, ‘is it spring yet?’, everyday before then.” Penny playfully warned.

“Your wish is my command.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling Penny down onto the couch to cuddle with her, making the teacher hum with delight and shyly steal a quick kiss.

A few minutes later, two bouncy young children crawled over their parents and wiggled into their sides and under the blankets with happy giggles.

“Alright kiddos, which one?” (Y/n) asked once they were all settled, patting the heavy book on their lap.

“We don’t want one of those stories tonight.” The eldest said.

“You don’t?” Penny blinked, confused by declaration.

“We want to know how you met each other and got married.” The eldest explained, the younger nodded along.

“It’s a long story kids.” (Y/n) said. They may have been trying to dissuade the children, but there really was a lot to cover. Seasons and seasons worth.

“What’s so long about it?” The younger child asked. “Didn’t you just know you liked each other so you got married?”

“People don’t get married right after they meet each other, honey.” Penny gently corrected.

(Y/n) definitely had a, ‘well, not usually anyway’, kind of look on their face but the warning look Penny gave them convinced (Y/n) to keep their mouth shut.

“Oh, I still wanna know though.”

“Me too!”

“(Y/n)...” Penny called upon her spouse.

“Okay, an abridged history, how ‘bout?” (Y/n) shrugged.

The children seemed content with that, once Penny explained to them what abridged meant, and looked to (Y/n) expectantly with shining eyes.

“Okay, it all started—“

“Once upon a time!” The youngest screeched, making everyone wince.

“Inside voices, dear.” Penny reminded.

“Sorry, but the story has to start with once upon a time.”

“It’s not a fairytale, you know.” The older said.

“It’s alright,” (Y/n) interjected with a grin, “it feels enough like one being married to such a sweet person.”

Penny turned away and blushed, a small bashful smile working the corners of her lips upward.

“Once upon a time...” (Y/n) began again, much to their youngest child’s delight.

***

“Oh my Yoba, this place is a mess.” (Y/n) groaned.

They had kept a brave face for Robin and Mayor Lewis, but now that they were gone, they voiced how overwhelmed they felt freely. They looked over the overgrown lot that was supposed to be the farm their grandfather had left for them.

“What if this was a mistake? Am I doing the right thing? I don’t want to crawl back to Joja but...” (Y/n) growled, thwacking the dirt hard with their hoe, “No! I just got here, I can’t quit yet.” They said, strengthening their resolve.

After a few hours of alternating between being proud with their progress and wanting to cry because there was so much left to do, (Y/n) decided they wanted to check out town. They just really needed to freshen up first.

To their dismay, but not surprisingly, the old farmhouse didn’t have indoor plumbing, but they didn’t worry because they knew there was a bathhouse in the mountains they could use.

“When I get paid, the first thing I’m gonna do is contract Robin to build a bathroom. I hope she’s as savvy with plumbing as she is with carpentry.” They mumbled to themself as they walked up the mountain path.

Entering the bathhouse, the space seemed void of life, the only sounds being the steady drip of water over the tiled floor. (Y/n) claimed a vacant locker and took a shower. After the day they had, it was the best shower they had ever had.

Once clean, (Y/n) decided they’d spoil themself and swim around in the heated pool for a bit before heading back to the farm. They put on their swimsuit and headed on in. Expecting to be alone, they hummed and sang as they made their way to the main room, enjoying the way their voice reverberated off of the walls and echoed back into their ears.

“Um, hello.”

“Wah!”

(Y/n) nearly slipped on the wet floor from the shock. A woman with vibrant, orange hair was sitting in one of the near corners of the pool. She seemed to shrink into herself under (Y/n)’s wide gaze.

“Oh wow,” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly, embarrassment flooding their tone, “I, uh, didn’t realize anyone else was here, sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” the woman smiled albeit, a bit tightly it seemed. “I was thinking about getting out anyway.”

“You don’t have to leave!” (Y/n) fumbled with the towel in their hands, “I promise to be quiet and give you your space. It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

They skittered across the tiled floor and slid into the opposite side of the bath, giving the woman her space.

A few painfully awkward minutes passed. (Y/n) leaned over the pool edge and counted the nearby tiles, the bricks on the wall... anything to occupy them until the other occupant left or a non-suspicious amount of time passed and they could leave themself.

“Who... who are you?” The woman asked, finally breaking the silence.

(Y/n) craned their head to face her, eager to introduce themself and hopefully make a better impression.

“I’m (Y/n). I just moved in. I live at the old farmhouse just west of town so you’ll probably see me around from time to time.”

“Oh, I see,” the stiffness of the strangers shoulders seemed to lessen, “Well, I’m Penny. It’s nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) grinned brightly as they swam closer to Penny, all previous worries forgotten. “It’s nice to meet you too, Penny! I hope we will be great friends.” (Y/n) suddenly splashed the water beneath their hand as another thought popped into their mind. “Hey, do you have any favorite vegetables or fruits?”

“Um,” Penny shrunk back, a bit intimidated by the farmer’s sudden approach, “Oh, I don’t know...”

“Surely there’s something, don’t be shy.” (Y/n) encouraged.

“I, I like melon?” Penny more asked than told. Her back digging into the edge of the pool a bit uncomfortably.

“Melon,” (Y/n) nodded sagely, backing up a bit from Penny’s personal space. “Yeah, I could do that! You’ll have to wait for summer though, is that okay?”

“Wait?”

“Yeah, I can start planting melon in the summer. I’d do it sooner, but the seeds won’t take. I’ll be sure to give you the first one I harvest though!”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Penny waved her hands in front of her.

“I insist.” (Y/n) heaved themself out of the warm water, “Man, Penny, I have to thank you. You’ve inspired me to get back to work! I got to see if there’s anything else I can clean up around the farm before nightfall. I’ll see you around!”

“Okay, bye...” Penny watched them jog into the changing room, gasping when the farmer slipped on the tiles but continued on their merry way. She wasn’t sure what to make of the new addition to Pelican Town, but they seemed kind enough.

***

The next time Penny had seen (Y/n) was during one of her lessons with Vincent and Jas. She had been reading about the history of the valley when Vincent had waved excitedly at someone behind her back. Thinking it was just Sam or Jodi, Penny attempted to continue on with her lesson but she soon came to a stop when Vincent took to excitedly calling after the passerby.

“Hey, farmer! Good morning!” Vincent yelled.

“Really now Vincent,” Penny lightly scolded as she held her finger over the paragraph she had been reading, “you need to focus on the lesson.”

“Sorry Miss. Penny.” Vincent apologized. “But I see Farmer (Y/n). They’re so cool.”

“They’re probably busy—“

“Hi, Vincent! And a hello to you Jas and Penny.” A friendly voice cut in.

Penny looked up from her spot in the grass and watched (Y/n) approach, their arms full of daffodils.

“What’s going on here?” They asked once they were standing next to the group.

“School.” Vincent answered matter-of-factly. “Miss Penny is reading about history.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a teacher Penny. That’s really neat. I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.” (Y/n) said, turning their attention to Penny.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know. I apologize if Vincent has distracted you from your own work.” Penny politely stated in kind.

“No worries, I’ve just been foraging around the valley. Leah posted a request for some dandelions but I couldn’t seem to find any today. I got a whole bunch of daffodils though. Would you three like to take some off my hands?”

“Wow, thanks!” Vincent quickly grabbed one before Penny could even think about declining.

Jas shyly took one for herself, still a little intimidated by the fresh face. She’d been growing a little more used to them though, thanks to Marnie’s encouragement.

“A flower, milady?” (Y/n) asked Penny again, sporting a warm smile that made the teacher feel like the heat of the day was starting to get to her.

“Thank you, this looks special.” She said, gently cupping the flower in her hands.

“You’re welcome. It’s no melon, but rest assured that summer will be upon us before you know it,” the farmer declared before spotting Willy in the distance. “Oh! Hey guys, I gotta go catch Willy to tell him about all the chubs I caught yesterday. It was good talking to you, see you all later!” They said before jogging off.

“Bye (Y/n)!” Vincent waved.

“Bye...” Penny and Jas said together, much more subdued than the young boy.

Penny watched (Y/n) until they disappeared into the saloon before turning back to her book. Her face tinged pink as she twirled her daffodil in one hand and picked up where she left off.

***

Summer rain pelted the metal of the trailer, thumping loudly with each drop, but Penny blocked it out easily as she read all cozy in her bed. Occasionally she would snap up a bit of freshly cut melon from the Tupperware resting on her nightstand and smile to herself.

(Y/n) had made good on their promise and had been pushing their fresh melons onto Penny since midsummer. Another sweet bite and Penny sighed pleasantly whilst marking her page with the daffodil (Y/n) had given her in the spring, now a dried and fragile makeshift bookmark.

The farmer was so warm, gentle. Better than anything her books could come up with and yet they somehow existed in her reality despite being too good to be true.

Since their somewhat uncomfortable origin, Penny could not have been more happy to have encountered them in the bathhouse that day. Even after getting to know each other better, even after (Y/n) had seen the messy state her mother kept the trailer in, they never treated her any differently.

“Penny,” the teacher jolted at the sudden knock and the rasp of her mother’s voice through the door, ���I’m heading to the saloon. You want anything?”

“No thanks, mom.” Penny sighed. “I was thinking of making dinner myself tonight.”

“Alright honey. I’ll be back late.” Pam informed, her footsteps rocked the trailer slightly and the rickety front door closed loudly, signaling the older woman’s departure. At least now that the bus had been fixed (by who else but the resident hero farmer) her mother had less time to spend drinking.

Penny scooted out of bed and headed to the kitchenette and turned on the stove, putting a large pot on the flame. She had been trying to make something to give (Y/n) in thanks. Something for all the good they’ve been doing for the town and for treating her so kindly.

She began her experimental stew, pouring whatever she had on hand into the pot that she thought would taste good. She was so absorbed in her creation that she almost missed the knocking on the trailer door.

Penny turned off the heat and went to answer the door thinking it was probably just Vincent with another excuse why he couldn’t return his homework in time. She was surprised to see (Y/n) waiting outside.

“(Y/n), hello,” Penny greeted, beckoning the farmer out of the rain, “please come in, it’s pouring buckets out there. You must be soaked.”

“I’m okay, it’ll take more than a little rain to take me out.” (Y/n) smiled as they stepped into the trailer. “Hi Penny, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all. I was just cooking.” Penny bashfully admitted. So much for the surprise.

“Oh that’s cool. What’re you making?”

“Oh just some stew, I was actually hoping to give it to you,” Penny blushed, “for all the good you’ve done for the town.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet of you Penny. You didn’t have to do that.” (Y/n) said. They could feel their heart beat pick up in tempo at the gesture.

“I wanted to. Here, have a taste.” Penny presented a ladle full of soup to (Y/n), her blush grew warmer as the farmer leaned in close to take a taste before pulling themself to stand straight once more.

(Y/n)’s smile tightened the more they chewed, sweat dotted their forehead.

“Are you alright?” Penny asked, watching the farmer continue to chew.

“Mhmm.” (Y/n) squeaked, giving Penny a shaky thumbs up. Then they swallowed none too easily. “Wow,” they breathed, well, more like gasped, “that sure was something Penny. Thank you for sharing.”

“Is it really that bad?” Penny frowned, disappointed.

Immediately (Y/n) jumped into action, waving their arms, “It wasn’t bad at all! I was chewing so long because it tasted so good, I didn’t want it to end!”

Penny gave the farmer a doubtful look before looking down at the leftover stew in her ladle and raising it to her own lips.

“Wait, Penny—“

“Oh dear, that is vile...” Penny gagged. She hardly had so much as a sip before tossing the rest back into the pot. “I’m sorry, (Y/n). I should have tested it first...”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re learning. It took me a lot of practice to learn how to cook too.” They assured. “If you want to come over sometime I could teach you a thing or two.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt. You’re always so busy...” Penny said, already contemplating how she was going to get rid of her hot, liquid garbage.

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. All I really need to do is water the crops and feed the chickens. I can take it easy every once in awhile. Besides, I’m always looking to spend time with you anyway so... yeah,” They rubbed the back of their neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah, so if you ever want to plan something... I’d really like that.”

“Okay.” Penny nodded, nervously fiddling with her hands. “I’d like that too. Very much.”

“Cool! Nice, yes.” (Y/n) practically sparkled at the affirmation. “When do you want to meet up?”

“Is Tuesday fine?”

“Tuesday is great! This is so exciting!” Just as the farmer pumped their fists over their head, a loud burst of thunder shook the trailer. “Wow, it’s a monster out there.”

“Yes, you should stay for awhile. At least until it calms down a bit... movie?” Penny suggested, gesturing to the little DVD player in the corner.

“That sounds like a great idea,” (Y/n) followed, their hand reaching into their bag, “I almost forgot I came to give you more melon!”

“You spoil me, really. How much melon do you think one girl can eat. I’m still working on the last one you gave me.” Penny giggled quietly.

“Fall will be here before long. Best to enjoy them while you still can.” They half-joked, sliding into the seat of the booth.

Penny slid into the seat beside them and popped open the DVD player. Maybe the melon season was coming to an end, but at least the farmer who planted them was here to stay.

***

By mid fall, Penny and (Y/n) were nearly inseparable. Any free time they had they usually spent together cooking in (Y/n)’s farmhouse, relaxing in the bathhouse or curling up with some books or other media.

The day was unusually warm for fall and Penny decided to treat Jas and Vincent to a picnic in the Cindersap Forest for all their hard work. While they ate and went through their lesson, Penny saw the farmer and waved them over without a second thought. She was simply thrilled to see them and thought their presence in the woods must have been fate.

“(Y/n), wonderful timing seeing you here. I was just teaching the children about natural resources. Could I trouble you to talk about how natural resources are involved in farming?” Penny asked once the farmer came up to them.

“Sure, I’d love to!” (Y/n) nodded.

Penny stared off dreamily at (Y/n)’s side as they explained what they knew about the valley’s resources while wondering how she could be so lucky as to know them. Once (Y/n) had explained a large amount of their process, Vincent raised his hand.

“Question, Vincent?” Penny asked, impressed that the boy seemed so invested in the lesson.

“Yeah, are you dating anyone Farmer (Y/n)?” Vincent asked.

“Uh, no. No I am not.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of their neck.

“Vincent!” Penny said, aghast.

“What?” The young boy questioned.

“You can’t just ask people stuff like that, Vincent.” Jas spoke up. “My auntie Marnie told me that when I asked her if Mayor Lewis was her boyfriend.”

(Y/n) and Penny gave each other an awkward side glance. After the incident with the bush, (Y/n) had to tell someone about it, and Penny had been the unfortunate mock therapist in that scenario.

“Ah, well, no harm done.” (Y/n) laughed. “Any questions related to the topic of natural resources?”

Penny observed how well (Y/n) got along with Jas and Vincent and thought they would make a wonderful parent. When the lesson had concluded and the children were playing by the river, Penny couldn’t help but ask (Y/n) if they had ever thought about having a family before.

“Every once in awhile I do. I think it would be nice. It would make the farm more lively at least.”

And with that admission, Penny couldn’t help but hope that one day, (Y/n) might see her as a suitable partner to share their life with.

***

Winter was, well, cold.

But Penny was glad for it because there were no crops (Y/n) needed to attend to and they were therefore, more available. They spent much more time together in winter than the previous seasons.

Today, Penny was heading to the farm for another cooking lesson from (Y/n). She was getting much better with the skill. She could even get her mother to spend more nights away from the saloon with the promise of a hot meal.

Penny stepped up onto the snowy porch and knocked her gloved hand against the wooden door. She could hear clattering from within the farmhouse and waited patiently for (Y/n) to usher her in.

“Penny, hi, glad you could make it!” (Y/n) grinned as they opened the door, guiding Penny in by the waist,

“Thank you for having me.” Penny flustered at the contact, despite her thick coat blocking the farmer’s touch. “What are we making today?”

“I thought some warm snickerdoodle cookies would be great on a cold day like this.” (Y/n) said.

“That does sound good.” Penny nodded as she hung up her coat and stepped out of her shoes. Then she followed (Y/n) to the kitchen and they got to baking.

Before long, the smell of cinnamon and sugary goodness permeated the space and the chill of the winter air outside was long forgotten. They were just getting ready to settle in with a movie when (Y/n) excused themself for a minute to go grab something from another room. It reminded Penny how small the farmhouse used to be before (Y/n) had commissioned Robin for a few projects.

Penny nervously eyed the bag she had left at the door. Was now a good time to bring out the bouquet? Penny had been silently agonizing over it all day. She had bought it from Pierre almost on impulse, she knew who she wanted to give it too, but what if (Y/n) saw her only as a friend and wasn’t looking for anything different? It was sure to make things weird between them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Penny jolted in her seat as (Y/n) reappeared, something held behind their back. She quickly assured (Y/n) that it was alright and motioned them over to the couch so they could start their movie.

“Wait, Penny, can I ask you something first?” The farmer asked, still standing in the stairway.

“Of course.” Penny nodded, concern seeping into her tone. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No! No, at least, I don’t think so. I just wanted to ask if you would want to... and you can always say no, you won’t hurt my feelings... okay, it might sting a little but I’ll get over it—“

“(Y/n), what is it?” Penny asked, standing up and walking over to the fumbling farmer. She had never seen them look so shaken.

The farmer seemed at a loss. Opening and closing their mouth until finally they just brought their hand out from behind their back and presented Penny with a bouquet of their own. The teacher gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth in elation and surprise.

Without saying anything Penny bounded over to the front door and opened her bag, producing her own bouquet and delighting (Y/n) to no end as she wrapped the farmer in a tight hug.

After hours of cuddling on the couch and half paying attention to their movie, Penny decided she had to get home, despite (Y/n)‘s offers to have her stay over. She needed to make sure her mom didn’t overdo it at the saloon.

A quick glance around the bar and she noted that Pam wasn’t there. She gave Gus a polite wave before heading home. Upon arriving, she found her mother already settling into the pullout for the night and their eyes met. Pam’s eyes drifted down to the bouquet secured in Penny’s arms and grunted.

“It’s about time.” Pam grumbled before turning over on the noisy mattress.

Penny could only smile at her mother’s gruffness before retiring to her room to quietly continue celebrating in her own space.

***

By the fall of the third year since (Y/n) had moved into town, the pair became a well established couple and it was just common knowledge to suspect if one was out and about, the other couldn’t be too far off since they were practically joined at the hip.

Some of the townies had expressed worry that the farmer was shrinking off too much of their duties but in reality, the farm was a well oiled machine now and required little maintenance. The farmer had worked themself to the point of passing out on their farmhouse floor on occasion to get to this point. Money was hardly an issue anymore for the farmer who, quite literally, built their legacy on five hundred gold and a handful of parsnip seeds.

“There you are,” Penny kissed (Y/n)’s cheek chastely as they plopped down next to her under her favorite tree, “where have you been?”

“Just needed to take care of something quick.” They said, leaning their head against Penny’s shoulder.

“And what would that be?”

“I was talking to Robin. She had a request up.”

“And what did she want?”

“You are full of questions today, sweetheart.” The farmer laughed.

“And you aren’t being as forthcoming with information as usual. Usually, I wouldn’t even have to ask before you tell me all about your adventures, big or small.” Penny pointed out, “I do believe you might be hiding something.”

“No way!” The farmer scoffed before slouching a bit more because of the look Penny gave them, “Okay, maybe I am hiding something, but it’s a surprise. Give it a few days.”

“Just what might you be up to, hm?” Penny smiled, cupping (Y/n)’s cheek.

“You’re a teacher,” (Y/n) laughed again, “you should know what surprise means.”

Penny sighed before laughing along with her partner. Then the couple went in about their day and before long, the thought of (Y/n)’s surprise left her mind and she had forgotten all about it by the time Jas and Vincent’s lessons were over for the day.

A couple days later, (Y/n) had invited Penny and Pam over for lunch. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. One of the things Penny appreciated most about (Y/n) was their willingness to reach out to Pam and build a good relationship with her as well. However, what made this trip particularly extraordinary was what waited for them where their old, rundown trailer used to be.

“Oh, Yoba...” Pam breathed, a hand placed heavily over her heart as she stared up at the grand looking house.

“Robin, what is this?” Penny asked, nearly as breathless as her mother and just as overwhelmed.

“I got commissioned for a community upgrade,” the carpenter smiled, “I hope you guys like it!”

“This is too much... how can we— who commissioned this?” Penny asked, running her fingers through her bangs.

“Anonymous donor,” Robin winked before making her way back up to the mountains, “enjoy the new house ladies.”

Penny hugged her mother while she cried and together they entered their new home, unsure how they could ever thank the donor enough. It didn’t take long for the mother daughter duo to figure out the identity of the commissioner. After all, there were only so many people who could pull off such a project and have the funds necessary to complete it.

“I’m going back to (Y/n)’s!” Penny called out. It felt weird having to actually throw her voice enough for her mother to hear her across their new house.

Pam managed a wave, still a bit overwhelmed by the vast space surrounding her.

Penny practically ran to the farm, the seashell pendant her father had gifted to her mother so long ago grasped tightly in her hand. Breathing heavily, she knocked on the door and waited for the farmer to appear.

“Hey Penny, did you forget a book or something? It must be good for you to run all the way over here for it.” They laughed, “come in, do you need some water—“

“I love you,” Penny declared, leaping into (Y/n)’s arms, “I can’t believe you did that for us.”

“Did what?” (Y/n) asked, looking a bit coy.

“You built my mom a house you wonderful busy body.” Penny said, smacking their shoulder.

“What? Did Robin tell? I asked her to keep it a secret.” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n), it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you were behind that project,” Penny sighed, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for anything. I was happy to help get the ball rolling. I love you guys and you do so much for Jas and Vincent, you deserve it. Now,” (Y/n) shifted a bit uncomfortably, “what exactly is digging into my back right now?”

“Oh!” Penny pulled back a bit, but kept the pendant out of (Y/n)’s sight. “I’ve only dreamed of doing this until I met you, it’s never felt more real, tangible. Oh my, this is nerve wracking.” Penny blushed.

“Take your time dear, breathe.” (Y/n) regarded Penny with soft eyes, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“(Y/n),” Penny spoke after a moment of collecting herself, “will you marry me?”

Penny presented the pendant, her eyes struggling to look at the farmer directly, but when the farmer pulled her back into another tight embrace she melted into their arms like warm butter.

“Yes, I love you! Yes.” The farmer cheered, their voice muffled by Penny’s shoulder. The vibrations, and words that created them, made Penny giggle with delight.

They stumbled into the farmhouse to celebrate their engagement, basking in each other’s company.

“I almost feel bad.” Penny suddenly stated, curled up in (Y/n)’s arms.

“Hm? What for, sweetheart?” (Y/n) asked as they ran their fingers through Penny’s hair.

“Mom will be in that big house all by herself. I’ll still see her everyday though, it’s not like I’m moving to Zuzu City... the idea of not living with her after all this time just feels odd.”

“I can understand that. It’ll take some getting used to. Just think of how nice it’ll be though, when somewhere down the line, we send our kids to grandma’s house for visits.”

“That does sound really nice. I’m really looking forward to starting a family with you.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) said. Then they leaned in to kiss Penny’s nose with great care and affection.

***

“Then a couple days later, we were married in front of the whole town.” (Y/n) finished softly, looking fondly over at Penny.

“That’s a nice story,” the eldest child yawned, “I wanna stay at grandma’s house again soon.”

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll work something out soon.” Penny promised whilst adjusting the fast asleep younger sibling in her lap, “now, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Alright,” The older child sighed before yawning again. “Carry me.”

(Y/n) released an amused exhale before standing and hoisting their child into their arms. Penny followed suit with the other, tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.

Together, (Y/n) and Penny retired to their own room, falling into bed with tired groans.

“Those kids can be handful sometimes.” (Y/n) said, smiling all the while.

“Yes, and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Penny rolled over to peck the farmer on the lips, “love you, sleep well.”

“I love you too, sweet dreams. I can’t wait to do this all again tomorrow.”

“Neither can I.”

If You can Change Your Tune

The interloper arrives in a rented moving van, the same sort as all the ones before.

“Are you sure about this?” her friend asks as they pull up to the house. “I know you’ve always had a thing for fixer-uppers but this place might be beyond saving.”

Even as she unlocks the front door the wind whistles a note of warning through its rickety frame. The floorboards beneath their feet crackle and moan at the intrusion.

“All it needs is a little love,” the interloper retorts. Her name is Ann. I remember her from the showing, a woman of insufferably good cheer walking room to room with the equally annoying realtor of the week, a dopey smile hanging from her lips.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. People like her come around from time to time with aspirations in their heads of moving into the rural countryside to rehabilitate my thickets into sprawling gardens or write the next great American novel from within my historic walls. Seeing the reality of the place in person was usually enough to convince them to chase their fantasies elsewhere. However, it appears this particular happy-go-lucky thorn in my side needs a bit more work to dislodge.

“Are you sure you’re not in over your head?” the other one asks. I try to guess at their relationship. Friend? Sister? A lover? I’m sick to death of couples.

“It’s a little late for me to back out now,” Ann laughs, twirling the keys around her finger. “Don’t worry, Nick’s bringing his crew over tomorrow to start on the repairs. She’s a project but the foundation’s sound. Next time you see this place she’ll be a real beauty.”

“’She’?”

“Yeah, you know, like how people call cars or boats a she.” She climbs the stairs and runs her hand along the dusty banister. I think of splinters— with luck maybe she’ll get tetanus- but nothing comes of it.

The house is my body. Two stories, twelve rooms not including the attic, an old-fashioned spiral staircase, and me, the greatest antique of all, left to rot. Once upon a time a family used to live here: a mother and father, a veritable litter of hyperactive young children, uncles and aunts and cousins who would stay with them some summers and during Christmastime, and the wizened pale face of a grandfather who watched over them from above the mantle. It was all very precious, very southern hospitality, very postcard perfect. All very gone. Not even their ghosts remained; just me, and all the better for it.

Chesterfield is the name of the county as well as the nearest town, though from what I understand that’s using the term lightly. Most folks local to the area know better than to disturb me, but sometimes they get bold. Bored teenagers mostly, or suited vultures looking to see if there’s any profit to be squeezed from the property. In its heyday, the house was probably a sight to behold, but I wouldn’t know much about that. Memories of my life, if ever I truly lived, are slippery like oil on the water’s surface, impossible to grasp.

Though without eyes or ears or a mind to make use of them, I can “see” through my many windows— if eyes are the windows to the soul, maybe windows are can be eyes to the spirits— and “hear” any sounds that tremble through my frame. I’m grateful for these senses; they help me keep things in order. If someone starts to get a little too cozy with my corridors, and providing the spiders don’t scare them off first, I just slam a few doors, flicker a few lights, and they go running.

The interloper and her extra finish moving in the last of the boxes. She squeezes her arm and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll send you pics once I’ve got my room set up,” she says.

“Bold of you to think you’ll survive that long. This place is definitely haunted. Do you get cell service out here? I want to call a coroner and tell them to save your spot.”

“I don’t remember making this big a deal when you moved into your first place.”

“It had bed bugs, but it didn’t have ghosts.”

Ann makes a face. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.” She puts an arm around her shoulders. “Kim. You’re acting like I’m dropping off the map. You’re the one leaving the country.”

“For two weeks!” Her expression grows tense. “I feel bad leaving you like this. I should’ve been there for you, there was just so much going on.”

“It wouldn’t have changed my mind.”

She sighs dramatically. “No, nothing can, can it? I fear for whoever you end up tricking into marrying you.”

Ann slaps her playfully on the arm. “Do not start on that. Speaking of which, don’t you have a honeymoon to be on? Go on, get.”

Kim puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs out the front door. I raise one of the loose planks on the porch and she trips, just barely evading a tumble down the front steps.

“See? Cursed!”

“Go!” But she’s laughing as she adds, “Thank you for the help. It means a lot, even if Sophie is gonna kill me for keeping you this long.”

“I’ve got time to talk her down.”

The U-haul rumbles away down the dirt road until it’s a muddled blur in my perception and then, finally, gone. I’m alone with the enemy now. More importantly, she is alone with me.

I slam the door. It’s the easiest most classic trick in the book. Ann jumps and looks around. I know what she’s thinking. Just the wind? Or could it be…?

But no, one small act like that won’t be enough to convince her. With a shrug, she returns to the task of moving in. She shuffles around a few boxes in the foyer and starts moving them one by one up to the second floor. All things considered she hasn’t much to move in, but I’m not fooled. Where one intruder appears, more will follow, and bring all their junk and their noise and their petty living problems with them.

All my original furniture was auctioned off in an estate sale. It took place right here on the lawn, and I watched through my windows as they divvied up my family’s belongings, breaking them down into numbers and measures of worth for the masses. For the most part though I didn’t miss it. The absence of clutter made the space feel bigger, and I got used to the emptiness.

The interloper sets up in the master bedroom and unpacks some supplies to give the room a cursory cleaning. The agency normally sent someone over to prepare the place for new residence, but since the last few rounds of movers had come and gone, they hadn’t bothered. If Ann minds, she doesn’t show it, and I have to admit it’s nice to have someone sweep away the dirt and detritus.

After cleaning to her satisfaction, she starts opening boxes with foreign labels and assembling her furniture from strange little kits, turning sheets of instructions over in her hands as she nibbles on a hangnail. The result is a set of cheap-looking geometric furniture that makes her curse as she accidentally attaches the table leg to the chair and the chair leg to the bedframe. Something about watching her work transfixes me. Probably her comical ineptitude.

After she fixes all the furniture she dresses her new bed and starts cluttering her shelves with all kinds of bizarre toys and knickknacks. Among her affects is a paperback book titled “the art of moving in and moving on”. I scoff.

“This is a temporary arrangement. Very temporary, you got it?” I tell her, though I know she can’t hear me. I know this, but it still annoys me. It feels like she’s ignoring me.

The interloper smiles to herself and takes out a black rectangle that she holds up like a camera, though the shape is far too small and thin. She lowers it, considering, and then from yet another box digs out a string of Christmas lights and hangs them up above the bed.

“It’s June,” I say, dumbfounded.

I look at the string of lights and put pressure on one of the bulbs until it bursts. She jumps, but the moment passes. She spends the bulk of the evening fussing with her camera-thing until she falls asleep.

Fine. If she wants to play hardball, I’ll play hardball.

 --

 In the morning, the interloper’s camera-thing plays a tune to rouse her. Her waking is both a curse and a blessing, for while I was glad to be free of her active meddling, even as she slept I was never able to completely ignore her presence. I feel her like an itch, like a stubborn pimple forming beneath my skin, and I’m glad to sense her rising if only because it means I can get back to business sooner rather than later.

The water heater and other facilities are still in good condition from the last unfortunate newcomers I drove from my doorstep, which frees her to take a long shower, singing obnoxiously all the while. This, however, is a perfect opportunity for me. When the heat from the shower fogs the chipped bathroom mirror, I brandish my loathing like a pen and write her a message. Granted, precision isn’t my forte, so the words come out a little smeared and crooked, but still the intent is clear as can be.

LEAVE

Ann squints at the streaked mirror. “Love?”

“Are you really that stupid?”

She looks around but, seeing no one, shrugs it off again and starts to brush her teeth. When she ducks her head to spit, I quickly try again.

MINE

“Mina? Who’s Mina?”

I groan. Okay, perhaps a more symbolic approach. I will the mirror to shatter, but just then a loud knocking sounds and Ann runs off in a frenzy before she can see the long crack forming down the center.

“Door’s open!” She calls from the landing as she hurries to finish dressing with one hand and wrangle her hair into a towel with the other.

I try to hold it shut, but despite my efforts, the door is forced open and a parade of half a dozen handymen file into the entryway. As they start setting up, a burly towheaded man breaks from the pack and goes to meet Ann as she’s bounding down the stairs.

“Careful, careful. Don’t put your foot through anything before I’ve even had the chance to bill you.”

“Nick,” Ann says fondly. “If these stairs could handle me, Kim, and the fifty-pound mattress we lugged up there yesterday, I think they’re stable.”

“You gals didn’t have to do all that. I could’ve—“

“It’s fine,” she insists. “You’re helping me out enough as it is.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even for that whole thing at Kim’s wedding now.”

“More than even,” she agreed. “I know this was last minute. Dinner’s on me tonight. I’ll order enough pizza for the entire crew.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You haven’t seen how much Seth can eat.”

Their easy banter disgusts me. Living people are all the same; wandering around with blind optimism or bemoaning every bad turn, blissfully unaware of how little it truly mattered. One wrong step with those tools of theirs and any one of them could be joining me among the shiftless dead. I don’t have any desire for that kind of company so I decide to wait until they’re done with their renovations before I risk trying to scare anyone again.

As it is they hardly need my help. Ann, it turns out, is more than just clueless, she’s a klutz. If that isn’t enough she insists on “helping” right up until she almost shoots herself in the foot with a nail gun. Nick warns her not to try it again but I don’t feel any anger from him. The crew are all familiar with one another and with her. They chat and toss around jokes between tasks; someone puts on music.

The feeling isn’t quite a tangible one, but then neither am I. It’s an energy I struggle to describe, something like wading in a river and being aware of a splash rippling from upstream. Compared to the sharp tang of fear I’m accustomed to, all this amicability is nauseatingly sweet.

Ann beams, and the high arches of her cheeks dimple and flush darkly, round as apples.

“What exactly do you have to be so happy about?” I hiss in her ear.

As much as I hate to admit it though, I can understand why someone like her moved so easily among the crowd. Even when she was getting underfoot, she’s a difficult person to condemn for it. How could anyone begrudge her excitement when it was so abundant? Or her love when it was so freely given?

Growing impatient with it all, I knock a toolbox off the top of a stepladder and send its contents scattering in all directions. It lands hard and the sounds of work, the music and the laughter, all come to an abrupt stop.

“What was that?” someone asks. A worker crouches down underneath the arch of the ladder to collect some of the scattered screws and I, with great satisfaction, tip the thing over on top of him. The damage is little, but it’s enough to get the entire crew good and spooked.

“I didn’t touch it,” the injured handyman insists as he nurses his bruises with an icepack. “It just collapsed.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” another jokes, but her smile doesn’t quite cover her nervousness.

“Kim said the same thing,” Ann muses to herself. Nick looks at her and she startles, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.

“I was wondering how you were able to afford this place, even with the damage.”

“Oh don’t start with all that black cat broken mirror stuff. You see bad omens in everything.”

“And you don’t see red flags until they’re waving right in the face. Not even then,” he accuses. Her guilty expression says there’s some truth to his words. “Tell me honestly, is this house haunted?”

“That’s silly. Of course not.”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” I demand with frustration.

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” asks the injured worker.

“Thank you!”

Ann hums thoughtfully and looks up at my aged walls, my decrepit ceilings. “The realtor warned me there were rumors about this place. This house has survived fire, flood, and an attempted demolition; somehow nothing was ever able to destroy it, and every person who’s lived here had reported seeing strange things. Objects moving on their own, strange sounds at night.”

Nick leans forward in his seat. “And what did you say when they told you all that?”

“I told her it sounded perfect.”

He puts his head in his hands. “Ann. Mary-Ann Thorne. Tell me you did not buy an actual haunted house. When Kim told me you just up and bought a house on a whim I thought that was crazy enough but this…”

“I didn’t buy a haunted house,” she says. She stood up straight and spread her hands with a dramatic flourish. “I bought a survivor. Houses are like people. They have personalities, they have their own little quirks, their likes and dislikes. Old houses most of all. I could tell as soon as I walked into this place that… well that she had something special. I can’t explain it, I just felt so drawn to her.”

She places her hand on the wall and holds it there. If I were alive I think I would shiver.

“She’s been through a lot, but with some TLC she’s gonna sing, I can feel it.”

“That’s crazy,” Nick says, but she isn’t listening. Not to him. It’s almost as if… almost…

“Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond. Of course she doesn’t. I berate myself for even daring to expect something so deluded. However, her little speech seems to encourage the crew, or else they’ve just calmed down enough to put aside their reservations and get back to work.

Watching them I feel… strange. Even when my house had been lived in before I had never really felt so cared for. It’s all ridiculous of course, a blind act of charity sprung from some silly woman’s misguided and misdirected affection. While the workers patch holes and replace crumbling pieces, the interloper sweeps and scrubs, eager to do her part.

Evening falls, and Ann prepares to head into town to pick up dinner.

“The guy on the phone said they don’t deliver to this address for some reason,” she says. “Weird.”

“Why don’t I go,” offers Nick. “I’ve got the truck. There’s more room.”

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees. “But I’m still buying, clear?”

“Crystal.” There’s a faint air of nervousness wafting from him, I think. I suspect he’s been hoping for an opportunity to get away from me for a while.

The rest of the crew seem mostly recovered from their brief brush with the supernatural. I intend to fix that.

I start by flickering the lights, another classic. Someone gets up stammering about checking the fuse box in the basement, but as he and Nick each go for the doors I slam them both at once, creating a nice echoing effect that rings all through the house.

“Try writing that off as the wind.”

“I got a better idea,” another someone offers up. “How about we all go into town for dinner? It’ll be nice to get out of— it’ll be nice to get out, let the dust settle here.”

“Come on, Ann,” Nick gestures. “We can swing by the bar after. It’ll be fun.”

She hesitates, a strange look on her face, and takes a step back. “You all go ahead. I’m not that hungry.”

“Ann.” He speaks more sternly now, looking something like an older brother with a neat wrinkle of worry taking up residence on his brow. “Come on.”

“I’m fine here, and you’re being silly. If you don’t believe me, bring me back something after you eat and you’ll see that I’m perfectly safe here alone.”

“But you’re not alone,” I whisper, for nobody’s benefit but my own. “What would you say, if you knew. If you really knew.”

“Besides, I’ve already spent the night here once. If something were going to happen, why didn’t it?” She pulls a smirk, puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s just you guys my house doesn’t like.”

Nick huffs an almost-laugh and relents, not entirely satisfied but not looking to argue the point any longer. He tells her to call him right away if anything changes and then he leaves. The workers file out after him, the last of them gingerly shutting the door behind him, so as not to anger me.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask her. My voice, such that it is, takes on a plaintive edge. Pitiful. I correct myself, refocus my aims. “You’ve had plenty of chances to run, and it’s only going to get worse from here on out. You know that, right? You’ve got to know this isn’t just some twenty-four-hour fever. You can’t get rid of me. It’s my house.”

She starts up the stairs. I follow. I have no other choice.

“Are you really this dense? How can you ignore the signs? How can you believe there’s anything here worth salvaging?"

She walks into the bathroom and stares into the cracked mirror.

“What are you doing now?” I complain. “Looking for answers? I couldn’t give them to you if I had them. Or are you just admiring your pretty reflection?” I stroke the mirror’s surface. “Must be nice, to be young and lively. If you leave now, you could have years and years of perfect ignorance, uninterrupted by those pesky reminders of death. You could have a life, and you’re wasting it.”

She touches her fingertips to the cool glass with a mystic look in her dark eyes.

“Mina?” she whispers.

“My name isn’t Mina.”

Or maybe it is. Might as well be, for all I know. I think I must’ve had a name once. Surely there was a word, a simple sound, some collection of syllables that meant I see you. Surely there had been someone to speak it and make it real in their mouth. But how should I know? And if such a person did exist, what does it matter now? I’m not a person anymore, I’m a thing that happened, a thing that’s happening still. I’m a box built to hold my history, filled up to the rafters with hurt and resentment. That’s as close as I get to living. If I could move independent of my dour walls like her, I think, I wouldn’t be wasting my time moldering in the darkness.

Ann shakes her head. “Silly. I’m being silly,” she tells herself. Looking up at the dim light fixed above her she adds, “I should probably check on that fuse box after all.”

She goes back down and opens the door to the basement. She flicks the switch on the wall a few times but that bulb's been long neglected. Even those who swear up and down they don’t fear the fables or superstition became suddenly shy when it comes to probing the deepest depths of this old house. Ann turns, presumably to seek out a flashlight, when her heel catches on one of the repairmen’s screws that had rolled loose. It’s not even my fault this time, technically.

Like some kind of morbid slapstick, her foot shoots out from under her and she stumbles backwards towards the open basement door. It’s a long drop that awaits her, followed by a fast end if she’s lucky. And I know well enough by now that she isn’t.

Without thinking, I push her. Instead of that foresworn drop down the basement stairs, Ann finds herself tripping backwards into the wall instead. She rights herself, takes in a sharp breath, and then releases it with a sigh. She’s dazed but unharmed. I find myself mirroring her relief.

She smiles. “Thank you,” she says.

Then she closes the door and walks away.

That has never happened to me before. Normally, to manifest, to have any direct impact on the physical world, I have to summon up a great deal of anger. That isn’t too hard for me; I’ve been angry a long time. But in that moment, I hadn’t been angry. I think I’d been afraid. For her safety? No, of course not. More likely I’d been worried she would leave behind a ghost and I’d be stuck with her invading my personal space for eternity. Still, I’d never… never done anything like that before. I’d never helped somebody. I suppose I’d assumed it couldn’t be done, even if I wanted to. Ghosts, spirits, malevolent spectral entities or whatever you like to call it, that’s not what we're for. That wasn’t what I did, until I did it.

I become aware of singing coming from the kitchen. The fool is never not singing or humming or whistling something. I know music; it’s not as if I’m totally uncultured. While I have no lungs nor lips to make sound, sometimes on a stormy night the wind whistles through my walls, each creak and moan playing for me the orchestra of slow degradation I’ve come to know well.

This is not that. This is… I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know the words. Is it too late, I wonder. I can’t. I’m not ready. Oh but if you can give me time, stranger, I think I want to learn your song too.

but i’m writing this at three a.m.

Chapter One

Notes: I started this out of nowhere and I’m determined to see this out! It’s mostly going to focus on Janus and Virgil’s relationship, or rather lack thereof, after Virgil left and why Virgil left.  Also Janus is in love with Virgil and platonic dukeceit reigns supreme.

Pairings: endgame anxceit

Warnings: Small reference to medical issues, please tell me if I missed any!

Word Count: 1489

Link on Ao3

It was two in the morning.

Janus was cold.

It wasn’t anything new, Janus was usually cold. He couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t cold. Maybe in the very beginning, when the King was still around and he and Virgil were as thick as thieves, but that time wasn’t worth remembering. It brought too much grief. And so it wasn’t odd that Janus was cold. He was always cold, with ice in his feet, and an icicle in his chest. Every so often, that icicle would dig itself further into his heart, piercing it with its freezing touch and cold demeanor and-

And maybe he wasn’t thinking about just being cold anymore.

Janus groaned and flopped onto his back. He pushed away his electric blanket and heating pad, the idea being that if they weren’t going to do their job and warm him up, he didn’t want to be near them. He hated the texture of that blanket anyways. Roman probably did that on purpose; he was quite smug when he handed it over, but Janus was too proud to ask for a new one. The heating pad had been a gift from Patton, after one too many instances of food he made not settling well with Janus’ stomach. He didn’t mind it and had since then used it often, not that he ever told Patton that.

Glancing around his room, he started picking out things that hadn’t been there a few months earlier, prior to the beginning of his acceptance. A snake plushie from Patton, a book on Emmanuel Kant from Logan, his two corn snakes sitting in their terrarium from Remus, though that one had been there for much longer than the rest. Janus sat up against the headboard of his bed and watched as his snakes dozed underneath their heat lamp, nice and cozy. He would take them up to hold them for a bit, but he thought better of it. Why disrupt their sleep just because he couldn’t?

He kept looking around the room, head lounging against the backboard. A lot of the little knick-knacks were from Remus, admittedly. Snake skeletons hung from the ceiling like constellations. That had been a birthday gift, two years ago. After Virgil left.

He didn’t want to go down that road.

Janus refocused his attention on the book by Emmanuel Kant sitting on his main bookshelf. That had been a bit of an inside joke between him and Logan, something that the other sides had never understood and never really sought to. Logan would still smile and call him Emmanuel after he had been caught in a certain lie. Janus quickly realized that it was the only time Logan allowed himself to smile, let alone joke or laugh, so he endeavored to do it more often. Logan seemed to appreciate it.

The plushie had been an “acceptance” gift, of sorts, at least according to Patton. Janus hadn’t seen the point in it, but disappointing Patton just didn’t make sense in the moment. So, he took it and arranged it gently at the top of one of his many bookshelves overlooking the whole room. Its little tongue was stuck out in a little blep, making Janus smile slightly. It was cute, he’d give Patton that.

The only thing Roman had gifted to Janus was actually something that Janus treasured quite closely. An old-fashioned record player that sat on its own pillar in the corner of the room, next to Janus’ elaborate desk. The brass speaker was somehow modified for the sound to be changed according to what hand motion Janus made, which was what shocked him the most. What was the point of making something so complex for someone who Roman supposedly hated? Janus never asked, too afraid of Roman taking the gift away.

Janus swung the comforter off his legs and scooted to the edge of the large bed. He gently placed his feet onto the plush carpeting, into a set of slippers Remus gave him years ago. He slowly pushed himself off the mattress, his knees creaking from the cold. Janus wrinkled his nose at the feeling of the cold sweat accumulating at his back and underneath his arms, and resigned himself to taking a shower before he left his room. A small shiver ran down his back and Janus moved his head back to try and get the crick out of his neck. After a few minutes of gentle stretching, he started to move towards the bathroom. A hot shower would help with the cold, at the very least.

He slowly shuffled his way to the bathroom door, his head suddenly full of fog from the sudden movements. As soon as he picked up his silk robe from the doorknob, a knock was heard from the hallway outside his bedroom. Curious, he laid the robe over his arm and stepped towards the door, opening it in the same motion. Across the hallway, Logan’s door was opened as well, the owner of the room standing in the doorway. Virgil stood in front of Logan, the large patchwork hood over his head. They spoke in hushed tones, a fond look on Logan’s face. Janus shifted his footing, the floor creaking below him. Virgil’s whole body twisted to face the other side. Logan’s head had likewise shot up to meet Janus’ gaze. At the sight of him, Virgil hissed, pressing back into Logan. Said man stared at Janus for a few moments, and then flickered his eyes down to the much shorter side. Janus got the idea and stepped back further into his own room, and shut his door. He stood there for a moment before pressing his ear against the door.

“…-an’t believe that eavesdropping snake.”

“Virgil, he probably just heard us in the hall and wanted to investigate.”

“No! That’s just what he wants you to think! Trust me on this, Lo. He's evil.”

Janus stayed at the door until he couldn’t hear them anymore. He straightened up. He strode to the bathroom door, draping his robe over his arm. With a quiet step into the tiled bathroom, he shut the door behind him, and turned on the water so that they couldn’t hear him crying.

[]

Janus made his way down the stairs as he pulled his gloves taut. It was barely daybreak when he stepped into the Light Sides’ kitchen, Patton still sound asleep. He wasn’t planning to stay for long, Virgil would have his head after last night’s encounter. Swiftly, he filled and placed the kettle on the stove. He used his third hand to reach up for his favorite mug as the second reached for his morning tea, the first still setting up the stove.

As he pulled down his mug, he tossed a glance back to make sure that he wouldn’t drop the ceramic onto the floor. He paused. That wasn’t his mug. This mug was plain, white, utterly dull. His was handmade, by Remus and Virgil when they were kids. It was the last thing-

It was the last thing he had from his time with the Dark Sides before Virgil left.

Convinced he must have made a mistake, what with his sleepless night, he finished setting up the kettle and tea bag. He opened the cabinet. He shifted through the different customized cups, but his mug was still missing. Janus pursed his lips. This was odd, he admitted to himself. He was used to craziness in his schedule, he lived for Remus for many years and adapted accordingly, but this? Remus wouldn’t do this.

Breathing in, Janus refused to allow this incident to ruin his morning. He had better things to do today than cry over a missing mug. If anything, it was still in the dishwasher. He kept going about his business, tidying up the kitchen as he went. He moved over towards the trashcan to deposit a dirty paper towel left on the counter. That’s when he saw it. Shards of ceramic buried beneath paper plate and snack wrappers. Purple and green, black and yellow pieces.

Shattered

Janus blinked once. Twice. He dropped the paper towel into the bin. He shut off the stove, depositing the kettle in the sink. He grabbed the trash bin and with two of his arms, swept his favorite teas sitting on the counter into the container. He tossed back it into its usual corner without his usual grace and tact.

He stood there for a few moments, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself. A creaking floorboard forced his attention to the top of the stairs, where Virgil stood, looking down at Janus. They locked eyes for a few moments.

“I won’t leave,” Janus said. “I deserve this just as much as you do.”

Virgil said nothing. Infuriated and achingly upset, Janus stormed towards and up the stairs, stalking past Virgil with the heavy feeling of his heart beating painfully in his chest.

The Sister I Always Wanted

Pairing: (not romance, just sisterly fluff) Emily Prentiss/ Kassidy Hughes (my OC)

Type: Fluff, tiny bit of sadness

Warnings: Self-loathing, anxiety. Kassidy is a mess, okay?

Summery: I just really wanted to write about the relationship between Kassidy and Emily, or how I’d love to imagine it anyways. This takes place during the beginnings of their relationship, soon after they met. It might get mentioned in my main fic at some point, but it isn’t necessary for the story. It’s just self-indulgent fluff for me <3

You can also read this on AO3! <3

It probably wasn’t normal, or sane, to show up at the doorstep of a coworker Kassidy barely knew, especially at 2:00 in the morning, in the rain, soaking wet. But, here she was, arms wrapped around herself as she stared at the apartment building’s front door. She didn’t grab a jacket when she had sought out comfort, and she was regretting it. Her hair was drenched, clinging to her face and the back of her neck. God, she was so stupid. 

Late November in Virginia wasn’t anything like back home. She wasn’t used to the rain, the cold, the wetness of everything. If she were home in Las Vegas, she would still have the air conditioner on during the day; but now she needed a small heater in her bedroom to sleep through the night. She should have known to grab a jacket- or at least a sweater- when she started on her journey to escape the suffocating walls that were closing in on her in her apartment. It wasn’t raining at the time. Now, it was pouring. 

At least the freezing sheets of water that were soaking her to the bone was good for something: it hid her tears rather well. Her red face and puffy cheeks could be explained by the cold and the rain. 

She still hadn’t made a move to enter the building, instead choosing to stare at the little buttons beside the door. Each one had a number on it, corresponding to the apartment number inside. She knew which one she needed but couldn’t make herself press it. 

God, why was she here? She lifted her chin towards the sky and closed her eyes, letting the sting of the water wash away her tears. Maybe moving to Quantico was a bad idea after all. She couldn’t handle the pressure of not being able to save everyone. She couldn’t be the woman her father wanted her to be. She couldn’t-

“Kass?” 

Snapping her head towards the door, she saw Emily standing there, a black nightgown hugging her figure, a gun in her hands. She lowered her weapon gracefully and grabbed Kassidy’s arm, tugging her into the foyer of the building and out of the rain, “What are you doing here? My neighbor woke me saying some homeless person was standing on the steps- God, why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”

Kassidy didn’t realize she was shivering until she was suddenly out of the rain. She blinked a couple of times, her hands trembling as she fumbled to grab the hem of her shirt for comfort, “I-I’m so so sorry… so sorry Em,” she started, her bottom lip quivering from emotion, “I um, didn’t mean to scare anyone-”

Emily wrapped her arm around her shoulders and started leading her towards a set of stairs, “Come on, let’s get you dry and warm. You’re going to get hypothermia.” 

Kassidy didn’t have it in her to fight, so she allowed herself to be walked up two flights of stairs and down a hallway into Emily’s apartment. The whole way, with every step, she wondered if she should just apologize and leave. But the words wouldn’t come out. Her mouth was dry.

The apartment was warm and cozy, although not very lived in. The furniture was mostly neutral in color, and there didn’t seem to be many personalized possessions, just a photo of the team from a dinner outing on her coffee table. She sat Kassidy down on her couch and started to pull her shirt over her head, gaining a surprised gasp from the younger woman, “What are you-?”

“You’re soaked to the bone, Kass. I’m going to get you into some dry clothes. I’m sure I have something that fits,” she mused as she pulled the t-shirt free from Kassidy’s arms. Standing, she walked towards the open bedroom door, “Go ahead and take off your pants too. I should have some sweats that you can sleep in.”

Kassidy did as she was told, suddenly very self-aware at how vulnerable she was in this moment. Sitting on what was essentially a strangers couch in nothing but her bra and underwear, soaking wet and without any way to protect herself, she resigned to wrapping her arms around her middle and fought against her shivering. She shouldn’t even be here. She should have stayed home, in her bed, and tossed and turned all night as a normal person would. But, she supposed, she wasn’t normal. She was weird and odd, and dumb, and very un-normal. 

Emily reappeared a moment later, handing her a pair of deep blue sweatpants that said ‘FBI Academy’ in white along one of the legs, and a matching shirt. Kassidy took them thankfully, dressing as quickly as her shaking hands would let her (they were definitely a couple of sizes too big, but that didn’t bother her). In that time, Emily had disappeared again, coming back with a towel and a large blanket. She signaled for Kassidy to lean forward and wrapped her hair up in the towel. Gentle, soft. Her hands were so warm, touching the sides of Kassidy’s face and pushing any stray hair out of the way. 

And then, finally, Emily draped the blanket around Kassidy’s shoulders before sitting beside her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her and tugging her closer. The young agent didn’t resist- even though her mind told her to- leaning into Emily’s lap. She rested her head on her shoulder. Why was she letting Emily be so friendly to her? Why was she here, ruining her night? She felt the burn of tears trying to form in the corners of her eyes and brought her shaking hand to her face, wiping at them. 

Emily started petting Kassidy’s head, her fingers gently tracing over the towel. She hummed softly for a while, waiting until the shivers that wracked through Kass’s body calmed down. Although Kassidy knew it had only been maybe 30 to 40 minutes before she allowed herself to take a deep breath, it had felt like hours.

Emily’s humming stopped. She shifted a little, causing Kassidy to sit up. The two faced each other, Emily taking Kassidy’s hands, running her thumbs over her palms. After a beat, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “Kass? Why did you walk to my apartment in the middle of the night, in the rain? You’re lucky you didn’t get sick.”

Kassidy swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She could feel her eyes threatening to water again, pulling one of her hands away from Emily and wiping at them, sniffling, “I um,” she started, her voice quivering slightly. She gulped, “I couldn’t sleep. I can’t sleep, I mean. I keep seeing those kids,” she took a shaky breath, closing her eyes, “And um… I went for a walk to clear my head. But then I ended up here and I…” she paused, opening her eyes and letting some stray tears streak down her face, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come. You need your sleep, and I just ruined your night. I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped. 

She was expecting anger, or confusion, or maybe even annoyance from Emily. Maybe pity. But instead, she saw understanding. Emily’s dark eyes were soft, warm, and comforting. She let out a breath she had been holding, “Oh, honey,” she replied, using her thumb to wipe a tear away, “you aren’t the first one to end up on my doorstep because of nightmares.”

Kassidy shook her head, “Not nightmares,” she insisted, “Just… bad thoughts.”

“Ah,” Emily started to undo the towel from Kassidy’s head and pulled it away, revealing mostly-dry somewhat-damp and unruly curls. She brushed some of those blonde curls from Kassidy’s face, tucking a strand behind her ear, “Bad thoughts, or nightmares, or whatever demons you’re fighting; you’re not alone. You’re so young and so inexperienced to this side of the world,” she hummed, focusing now on tugging the blanket tighter around Kassidy’s shoulders, “you remind me of me.”

“I do?” Kassidy sniffled, wiping at her nose. Emily smiled, and her eyes shimmered with memories, “Yes. When I was your age, I wanted to save the world too. I wanted to put away all the bad guys and be a hero. I think everyone in the BAU was like that,” she thought for a moment, her eyes glancing towards the only photo in the room. “We all want to be heroes,” she said again, “and we all learn in time that we can’t always be the hero in every case. We don’t win them all. But, it’s worth going back to work every single day for the ones we do win.” 

Kassidy nodded slowly, her eyes feeling warm and puffy. She used the blanket to wipe at her face. She was exhausted. The walk to Emily’s apartment had taken maybe 45 minutes, most of it spent crying in the rain. Her body was feeling heavy. 

“I’m just so sorry that your first case with us wasn’t a good one,” Emily said quietly, pulling Kassidy to her in an embrace. Kassidy snaked her hands out of the blanket and wrapped them around Emily’s waist, her head landing heavily on her chest. 

“I’m sorry that you saw those kids- you weren’t supposed to be at the scene. That was a decision I made because I wanted you to see what it was like to work in the field. Hotch took my advice, and it was wrong. And for that, I am so, so sorry.”

Kassidy didn’t know why, but she felt herself smile a little, “No, it’s not your fault. You um, kind of reminded me of a sibling convincing their parents that your little sister could do big kid stuff too, you know?” She was thinking back to how Hotch had his arms crossed over his chest, his lips in a thin frown. It was such a disapproving dad look. He kept shaking his head, telling Emily that Kassidy hadn’t even received her gun yet, let alone ever been in the field before. But Emily had insisted, saying she would watch over Kassidy. It felt like watching a big sister beg to allow the little sister to go to the movies too. “I’ll be responsible for her,” Emily had said. Hotch finally caved, telling Kassidy to be careful. And she had been extra careful, actually. They just didn’t know what would be waiting for them at the UNSUBs home.

Emily chuckled a little, a hand coming to the back of Kassidy’s head and petting her hair. It felt nice, comforting. She found herself closing her eyes, relaxing into the embrace even further. The tension in her shoulders released.

“Do you have siblings?” Emily asked. She shook her head, mumbling, “No. I’m a single child. I remember begging my mom for an older sister when I was 6 or 7, though. I didn’t understand that she couldn’t just go get one for me,” she smiled more at the memory. She was so tired.

Emily giggled again, humming in thought, “Yeah, I’m a single child too. I kind of wished I had siblings when I was young. We moved around a lot, so it would have been nice to have a friend everywhere I went,” she mused. 

Kassidy spoke quietly before thinking, her words coming out in a whisper, “You can be the big sister I always wanted if you want.”

Emily froze, her hand still in Kassidy’s hair. She blinked once, twice, before glancing down at the young woman who was curling into her lap. Kassidy’s lips were barely parted, her breathing even and deep. She had fallen asleep- in what- a second after saying that?

Emily watched her for a moment, thinking about this situation she somehow ended up in. This wasn’t the first time she comforted a coworker or friend after a bad case. Hell, it wasn’t the first time she had a girl wearing her clothes curled up in her lap. But, this was the first time someone suggested that their relationship could be more meaningful than friends. Not lovers, but something else beautiful and special: family. 

It was an odd feeling, but nothing unwelcome. It wasn’t scary or unsettling, like she thought it might be, especially considering she barely knew the girl sleeping in her lap at almost 4:00 in the morning. But something felt kind of right about it, about the idea of being her “big sister.” She recalled the first time she met Kassidy only a month ago and knowing from that moment on that she wanted to protect her, to teach her, to be her friend. 

Kassidy was shy and awkward, much like Spencer had been at the beginning. But after opening up a little, she was also sweet, colorful, and friendly. She memorized everyone’s favorite coffee orders in the first week at the office, and she tried oh so hard to make Hotch like her, doing everything in her power to get on his good side. She was funny, quirky, and smart. During her second week, she had convinced everyone to go out to dinner; even Spencer came along. She convinced the team to make weekly dinners when they could, and Hotch agreed to it. She was someone that Emily was glad to have on the team, and as her friend. 

And maybe, as a little sister too. 

So, she smiled, laying the sleeping girl down on the couch and placing a pillow under her head. She went back to her own bed, where Sergio was curled up in her spot, and she fell asleep wondering what this might mean for her. 

In the morning, Kassidy awoke to the smell of coffee. She stared at the room before her, blinking a few times, her mind trying desperately to catch up with the events of the previous night. Where was she?

Oh right, at Emily’s. She must have fallen asleep. Sitting up with a yawn, she glanced over the edge of the couch towards the kitchen. Emily smiled and approached her with a steaming mug, “Here. I don’t have any creamer here, but I put a lot of sugar in it like I’ve seen you do,” she offered. Kassidy took it carefully, her face warming up with embarrassment, “Oh, um, thank you,” she replied. 

Emily sat down in a chair, sipping her own coffee, “So, how did you sleep?”

“Um,” Kassidy bit her lip, her embarrassment growing. The prickling of anxiety was beginning in her chest, making her feel trapped. “I um,” she swallowed, “fine, I think. I am so sorry for falling asleep here, Em- I didn’t mean to. Gosh, I can’t believe I did that- I’ll go home right now if you want me too-”

“Kass,” Emily leaned forward, placing a hand on Kassidy’s shoulder, “It’s okay. You’re fine. I’m glad you stayed the night.” 

Kassidy blinked in surprise. Her anxiety didn’t disappear fully, but it lessened a little. She was so confused, Emily didn’t hate her or think she was weird for showing up unannounced in the middle of the night? Then she had to borrow her clothes, and fell asleep on her couch, in her space. God, she was just being nice. Clearly, Kassidy overstepped some boundaries and-

A cat rubbed against her leg. She looked down at the black creature as it meowed at her, its big eyes looking right into hers. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she reached down and pet along it’s back, eliciting a purr from it. 

“His name is Sergio,” Emily said, smiling over her mug. “He likes you.”

“Hi Sergio,” Kassidy spoke carefully, rubbing under his chin. He jumped onto the couch and started kneading at the blanket that still covered half of her body, his claws going in and out of the material. “Are you making biscuits?” She giggled a little and kept petting him. She actually felt calm. 

Emily watched the two of them for a moment before speaking again, “Kass, do you remember what you said to me last night, before falling asleep?”

Kassidy glanced up at her and shook her head, “No? I don’t know. I remember we were talking about being single kids, though,” she hummed, feeling the soft fur of Sergio under her palm. He laid down in her lap. 

“Yeah,” Emily confirmed. She seemed to be debating something, but chose to smile instead, “Do you wanna go get some breakfast? There’s this cute little café nearby that I like to go to when I get the chance. I can text Penelope and JJ and see if they want to come too?”

Kassidy’s eyes lit up, the idea of food making her stomach growl, “Oh yes, that sounds good. Um, maybe I should go home and take a shower first?” She glanced down at herself, “And get some of my own clothes?”

“Nah,” Emily laughed, “You look fine. I’ll drop you off at home after we get breakfast. Come on, I’ll text them now. I’m sure Penelope will want to come, at least.”

Kassidy smiled, nodding. The ball of anxiety that made itself known in her chest was still there, but it was much smaller now. Maybe Emily did actually like her, and didn’t think she was weird or strange or stupid? 

Maybe they could be friends, after all. And, maybe, Emily could always be there for her like she was last night. Like an older sister would be, she thought. 

That would be nice. 

Touches

Summary: Both alive by cheer luck, Dracula and Zoe find each other in a strange predicament. Both make the unanimous decision to leave London behind for the country side to give their senses some time to wind down. What happens when another vampire knocks on their door seeking refuge?

“You know you could just sing the first thing that pops into your mind and see if we are fated,” Dracula suggested from his place in the cozy fire lit living room of the cottage they lived in.

Zoe scoffed at that and sat on the chair opposite him all the while saying, “Song or not it would make sense that we are mated. There is too much history between us for there not to be.”

Dracula hummed at that resisting the urge to roll his eyes keeping his gaze on the book he’d been reading. He knew she’d have a point if there had been any proof of a link from the time he met Agatha. He’d sang his song to her and nothing happened. He figured that it was in the bloodline, Zoe is her descendant after all. Meaning if nothing happened in the beginning of his interaction with the Helsing bloodline then nothing will. And she wondered why the brides.

He’d decided he did regret what happened to Johnny. He’d practically heard the song in his blood smelt it through Mina’s in the convent. He should have respected the sanctity of the bond and now he’s paying the price. Eternity with not mate is a lonely existence despite having lived almost 6 centuries on his own.

While not a mated, for fated, pair both found a surprisingly peaceful platonic way of living...after she convinced him to at least “harvest” their life source through more inconspicuous means. He’d agreed and decided to take a major step and get a part time in the small town’s local blood bank.

“I need to learn control anyway,” he’d told Zoe when she’d given him a bewildered disbelief filled look.

And he meant that, he’d needed to take control of his thirst especially since he wishes to spend more time in the sun after so long away from her warmth.

That had been nearly six months ago.

To date the pair did not know how they came back, the foundation didn’t know how they came back and they most certainly did not know how Zoe was still human. If there is a God he thank him for at least allowing this small mercy. He didn’t want Zoe to fall prey to the foundation’s experiments just because he’d accidentally turned her. He didn’t need Agatha in his head more that she already was because he’d subjected Zoe to the experimentation of her human colleagues.

“Do you think they’re out there Dracula?” He heard Zoe ask curiously.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response curious as to where this line of questioning is going.

“Our songs,” she said plainly.

“I lost of finding mine long ago,” he said honestly closing the book, “And at this point I don’t think they exist for me.”

Zoe tilted her head to the side in curiosity, he felt Agatha doing the same.

He sighed and stood as he saw the late hour on the grandfather clock behind her chair in the far wall.

“It’s late,” he said and stood putting the closed book on the coffee table.

“Why?” He heard her ask curiosity still in her voice.

He turned to face her brows up at her question.

“Why do you think they don’t exist?” She asked.

He chuckled at that and said, “You've drank my blood...think about it.”

With that he left her to her thoughts with a quiet, “Sleep well,” and left to his room.

It’s 11 pm and the question Zoe asked him was still doing pinwheels in his head. He twisted and turned in bed attempting to fall asleep before breathing a restless sigh and pulling off the blankets and getting out of bed. He made his way to the ensuite bathroom and splashed some water on his face sighing into the towel as he dried his face, ignoring his reflection as much as possible, before tugging at the waist band of his black boxers exposing his left hip where words lay.

I'm blinded by the lights No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch I'm drowning in the night Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust

The area where second verse of the stanza is had been scarred over badly from a battle injury long ago making it difficult for him to read the rest. His marks had changed over the years of his unlife, some had come and gone in what looked like the blink of an eye. It hadn't been until one hundred years or so before one Jonathan Harker had paid him a visit that these markings had appeared and hadn’t changed since, which he’d found odd.

He ran a finger over the words and sighed allowing himself to feel the loneliness he’d fought to bury over his centuries. It had taken him almost dying to learn that you don’t run or hide from your feelings, your heart or the human side you thought you’d long since buried.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice said from behind him.

He looked up to find Zoe looking at him in worry through their reflexions on the mirror.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he said pulling his boxers back in place before turning to her with an inquisitive brow up and a question on his tongue.

“I did knock,” she said hands raised in a sign of surrender.

He sighed and reached for a pair of sweats the hung on the towel bar before noticing she looked like she had just gotten back from her evening walk.

“But there is a reason you’re here I gather,” he says as he puts them on.

She nodded and approached clearly not affected by his naked chest and said, “We both know the type of creatures that live in the woods near us, bar us I mean.”

He nodded urging her to go on.

“But I have to admit, there were some new noises there tonight that I’d never heard before,” she said and walked out of his bathroom to his window and looking out, “I heard running and climbed on top of the nearest tree like you taught me before hearing a second set of footsteps these more calm than the first and found it more than a little odd. There’s usually no out there after dark Dracula you know this. Question is what would humans be doing in the middle of the woods?”

He had to admit she had a point and put on a grey t-shirt and joining her by the widow.

He looked at the tree line his brows furrowed as he scanned the line.

“What did the other noises sound like to you?” He asked.

“Growling...” she said and gave the tree line her own sweep, “But not from any animal I’d ever heard from the animals that live there.”

“Do you still have that runner’s backpack?” He asked before flying through their home checking that all the lights where off.

“Wai–”

“Shh,” he said putting his hand over her mouth.

Now she was alarmed. She’d never seen Dracula so shaken before and to see him act like this was cause for concern. She didn’t want to think what could be out there that could trigger him so strongly but knew she’d stumbled on the answer during her run...they are no longer the only vampires in the area.

She nodded in answer to her question.

He nodded and put the pointer finger of his free hand over his lips, “Shhhh.”

She nodded and took a calming breath as he took his hand back.

He pointed to her running shoes and she got the hint. If they were to be as quiet as they needed to be she’d have to leave them behind.

They made quick work of gathering the wooden stakes and throwing them in the pack before walking into the half-moon lit night.

He made sure their home was secure before closing his eyes and taking a deep (unnecessary) breath.

Zoe was about to ask what he was doing when she heard the familiar huffing of wolves.

“They will follow behind us just in case,” he said as he started walking toward the tree line his demeanor one Zoe had never seen on him before.

He looked every bit the predator he’d warned her he could be but never took to heart. She isn't stupid, she knew they are top of the food chain predators. But one thing is hearing it and another is seeing him shift and break away from his gentleman’s veneer and let his inner beast out. From seeing this alone she knew she has many things to learn still.

She followed just a few steps behind him as they ran through the woods looking every bit like his second in their coven. She saw him take a deep breath taking in the scents that lingered in the air.

He growled as he recognized one of the two scents in the air.

Zoe looked at him question in her eyes.

“My maker seemed to have another on his sights,” he said with a growl eyes red and his fangs out.

00//00//00

A/N: Like and reblog if you liked the first part!! Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Dracula Tag-List: @kaddis-world, @count-snackula, @your-pixels-are-showing, @peachlogiic, @the-life-and-times-of-a-nerd, @lokiisbrucebanner, @deny-black, @drsherlockmoffat, @festering-queen, @ashashashashashie, @hoefordarkness,  @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels, @glamrockmonarch, @damesteph, @carydorse, @allis143, @break-free-killer-queen, @bloodspatteredprincess, @dracula-s-bride, @disneymarina @thebeautyofdisorder, @purvana, @hyacinth-meadow, @rheabalaur​, @chibicheeberson​, @camille-stark​, @hopipollahorror​

Coffee Shop Writing Prompts by @veronicabunchwrites

To start you guys off, a prompt list by @veronicabunchwrites. Veronica is no longer on Tumblr, only on Pillowfort, so I can’t reblog, only repost, sorry about that. The original post can be found here.

100 coffee shop au writing prompts!

there’s something about people meeting and falling in love over hot drinks that presents such a cozy atmosphere. it’s no wonder that it’s a favourite. some of these prompts are classic because who can resist the tried and true?

01.  clearly you’re going through a bad breakup because this playlist is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard and I’m begging you please change it 02.  you’re my favourite employee because you always have my order ready on the days I’m running late to the office 03.  I order the same thing as my boss in case something happens to their coffee and one day, you write your number on the cup I give to my boss 04.  my friend swears that you can pick the perfect drink for anyone but I’m skeptical because there’s no way you can look at someone and just know their order - and of course, you nail my drink 05.  I run the shop beside your bookstore and I’m trying to convince you that it could be beneficial to knock down the wall between our shops and you’re being a big pain in the ass about it 06.  I hired you to make drinks not flirt with every customer that walks in and how dare you accuse me of jealousy, get back to work 07.  you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway?

08.  I know you’re about to close and I swear I’ll give you a $20 tip, can you please just take my order? I’ve had the worst day possible 09.  a $20 tip isn’t worth me staying open late, but then you burst into tears and I end up asking you if you want to hang around to talk 10.  you’re the night manager who runs open mic nights and I’m the baker who starts at 3am so sometimes our paths cross and I like talking to you 11.  you never order the same thing more than once and just as you’re about to get to the end of the menu, I start adding new things because I’m afraid you’ll stop coming in 12.  I’ve been writing lame jokes on your cups because you’re the grumpiest person ever and you finally crack a smile 13.  you always get my order wrong and I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose just so you get a free drink out of it because employees have a crap discount 14.  I’ve been working on this essay/project/article/etc. for the last ten hours and I’ve barely moved so you come over to give me something to eat and ask if I’m okay 15.  I’m dragged to open mic night by my best friend, and while I’m ordering my drink, your voice fills the room and I’m mesmerized 16.  there’s a poetry slam and while I’ve never gone on stage, I’m obsessed with your stuff 17.  you were rude so I insult you and you just left a $50 tip??? who the fuck do you think you are? 18.  I decided to use my personal (and massive) mug collection when I opened my shop and you start hanging around just to see which mug you’ll get 19.  I open a cat cafe with a separate room for the cats that are all available to adopt, and you keep coming in to sit with them even though you’re allergic 20.  I haven’t seen you in years but you just walked into my coffee shop and by your snooty attitude, you don’t seem to know that I own the place 21.  I really don’t care that you’re a famous celebrity, you will stand in line just like everyone else and that’s that 22.  this shop is really busy but I need their wifi, so could we share this table? 23.  we’re working on our school project in this cafe and I’m pretty sure my group just figured out that I have a crush on you 24.  I have a job interview and you're the clumsy employee who just spilled hot coffee all down my white shirt 25.  I’m on the worst blind/Tinder/Grindr date and you ‘accidentally’ dump a drink on my date to save me 26.  you’re a big city person visiting my tiny coffee shop in a small town and you’re so rude when you ask if we have cappuccinos that I lie and say no 27.  I just bumped into my ex so I slip my arm in yours to pretend you’re my current partner even though you were just standing in line behind me 28.  my umbrella broke and I just stepped into your shop soaking wet and you run upstairs to get me some towels from your apartment and I’m sorry I’m crying but this is the nicest thing that’s happened to me all week 29.  my AC isn’t working at my apartment so I’ve been spending most of my spare time here and using your wifi and I think you’re flirting with me 30.  I’ve been hanging out more because I sit at the counter to watch two baristas flirt (OT3 bonus!) / and you join me so we make a bet on when they’ll get together 31.  I named my coffee shop Coffee Shop and you’re the customer who loudly talks about how stupid the name is 32.  I’ve been sitting in the break room wondering how to ask you out on a date when you come in and announce you were just asked out by a customer (bonus if OT3!) 33.  you’re a famous celebrity who ducks in to my quiet shop and asks if you can hide, and I mean, sure, but are you going to order something? I have to make a living here, dude 34.  I know you own this place but dude, this song has been on repeat for the last hour and I will pay you to change it 35.  I’m really nervous as I’m meeting a family member for the very first time and you’re the kind employee who sits with me to help calm my nerves 36.  you’re staring at me and I don’t know why until you tell me I’ve been singing along to my music and I’m mortified because I didn’t realize 37.  I saw your Help Needed sign in the window and you look busy so where are the aprons and how can I help? 38.  every day I write a quote on a chalkboard on the wall and apparently you’re the author I just quoted but you’ve never shown your face in public before so why are you telling me? 39.  someone left a note in the suggestions box that the barista is the cutest person they’ve seen and I’m laughing as my coworkers discuss who it could be when you quietly admit it’s about me 40.  you just cut in front of me in line and I’m not in the mood to let it slide 41.  I noticed you were on ao3 reading smut and when you go up to get something else to drink from the counter, I realize you’re reading the fic I posted twenty minutes ago 42.  your dog and my dog just tangled their leashes outside the coffee shop and now they won’t leave each other’s sides, so do you want to join me at this table? 43.  I know it’s not my place but your teenager seems to be mixed up in a bad crowd and I thought you should know they’re hiding in the bathroom crying right now 44.  your father comes in weekly at the exact same time and orders the exact same two drinks because that’s what he used to do with your mother and you come looking for him 45.  I really need you to put up this flyer on the community board but you’re sort of being a prick about it 46.  you hire my band to come place on a weekly basis but the more time I spend with you the more time I want to kiss you 47.  you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you 48.  my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me 49.  after overhearing you order the eccentric coffee shop owner’s drink of the week, I warn you that it never tastes good (bonus if you convince me it’s great this week so I sip and suffer with you) 50.  the last clue to my partner’s scavenger hunt is supposed to be here, and while I’m looking for it, I discover that you’re my partner’s friend who set the whole thing up (bonus: ot3) 51.  I sold my business for millions when I was in high school and tried to disappear from the spotlight but I’ve just been spotted drinking your coffee and feel bad since you’re overwhelmed with the sudden influx of new customers 52.  I overhear you talking to your friend about how you’re planning on meeting up with your ex and I can’t stop myself from butting in because that’s a bad mistake 53.  I’m hosting a food-eating contest to raise money for charity at my shop and you seem to have an endless stomach that makes me a little concerned 54.  I catch you in the act of placing your newspaper over a customer’s cell phone/wallet/etc. and then stealing it when they deny you money 55.  you walk into my coffee just before close looking like a runaway bride/groom/princess/prince/royalty so I stick around to keep you company 56.  meeting at the coffee shop feels like fate, but now we’re sitting here because I’m terrified to tell you my big secret 57.  you’re a grumpy customer who doesn’t talk but you always have the most fun tie/socks/dresses/sweaters/etc. and I look forward to see what you wear next 58.  I’ve been obsessed with your homemade soups and I always rave about them to the cashier but I didn’t realize you also make them until you surprise me with a new recipe 59.  I rent out your shop for the evening to propose to my significant other and they dump me on the spot 60.  I run a baking class one night a week after hours at my shop and you keep coming back despite being the worst baker ever 61.  you left me a bad review so I’m tracking you down to yell at you and demand a retraction 62.  you’re the contractor I’ve hired to build individual bathrooms so I can offer genderless options for people (bonus if contractor is trans/nb/gender queer) 63.  I host a board game night every Friday and you always come in with your best friend and ask me to teach you a new game and I cannot believe you’ve never played Life before (or: insert own game) 64.  I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you 65.  I’m wiping down a table when I notice that you left a cell phone number on the back of your receipt for your lunch and I ask my coworker if I should text you (bonus if ot3) 66.  every time you come into my shop, I swear you have a new sticker on your laptop and I desperately want to ask about this one 67.  you come in to steal the shop’s wifi for video calls with your mom/dad/family member and when they see me in the background, they think I’m your new partner 68.  I really suck at my job but I desperately need the money and when I get fired for spilling your coffee all over you, you offer me a job because you feel bad 69.  we’re coworkers who make out in the supplies closet and get caught by another coworker (bonus if ot3!) 70.  someone enters my hot chocolate into a contest for the National Best Hot Chocolate and you’re the hot judge who gets snowed in town for a few days 71.  you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them 72.  I watch you pull out a flask and add alcohol to your drink and then you wink at me 73.  I’m playing a game on my computer but I keep failing at the level so you tap my shoulder and tell me how to beat it (and we spend the rest of the afternoon in the coffee shop bonding) 74.  I've been assigned a fluff article about the different types of people who spend their days at coffee shops but I can’t seem to figure out why you’re here (articles: x, x, x) 75.  I found you curled up under a blanket asleep at my front door so won’t you come in, I’ll get you some food and give you a job 76.  you’re my favourite actor in my favourite TV show but by the sounds of that phone call, you seem to be having a rough day so instead of flailing, I offer you some words of support 77.  I don’t know how to spell anyone’s names correctly so I spell them phonetically and you always mumble your name so I just make up something 78.  I bump into you and knock your coffee out of your hands and you look like someone just died because you’re having the worst week ever and can I make it up to you? 79.  we met online and you suggest this place for our first date and I’m terrified you’ve catfished me or you’re going to stand me up 80.  when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out 81.  you’re my significant other’s ex and you’ve invited me to coffee to tell me that I can do better and our connection is immediate 82.  I’m in the middle of a rant about this book I’m reading and oh my god you’re the author in line behind me and I’m sorry, not sorry 83.  you take a selfie and I photobomb you, but you don’t notice until the entire photo goes viral so we agree to meet back at this coffee shop 84.  I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up 85.  I’m a little concerned that you might be too addicted to coffee since you always come down from your office to my little shop to get your fix multiple times a day but my coworkers think you have a crush on me 86.  I’m expecting an important phone call but my phone is about to die and please, please let me borrow yours 87.  I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes 88.  I’m a witch barista and I charm your drink so that you have a better day 89.  I’ve been trying to borrow this particular book that the local/college library only has one copy of and I just realized you’re reading it at this coffee shop and goddammit, why haven’t you finished with it yet? 90.  some asshole just stole your purse/backpack without you noticing so I instinctively jump into action and chase him down the street to get it back for you 91.  you’ve cut in front of me in line for the last three days by shooting me a charming smile and leaving me a little dumbfounded but today, that will not fly 92.  I keep making work-related puns and you’re the grumpy coworker who refuses to find me charming 93.  you sit down at my table and quietly tell me to pretend we’re talking because you’re trying not to be seen by someone and I’m so confused as to what is going on but you’re cute so I’ll roll with it 94.  you order the same obscure drink from the app but I always miss you picking up your drink from the counter and today, I’m going to finally watch to see who you are 95.  I don’t know who you think you are, but you really can’t make this shop your office unless you’re going to order more than one tea for the eight hours you stay here 96.  you read tea leaves as a hobby so I always bring my cups to you when I’m finished 97.  you look like you’re having a bad day so I get some icing and draw a smiley face on your cookie 98.  I overheard you talking about how you wish my shop had board games so the next time you come in, I watch your reaction to my new shelf of board games 99.  you’re the very kind employee who brings me my favourite tea when you witness my public (and loud) breakup 100.  this coffee shop is owned and run by queer people and is so very gay with our decor and the names of our menu items, and I’m pretty sure you’re not as straight you think you are because you keep coming in and asking a thousand questions 101.  you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it 102. I’m wistfully watching a couple when you come up to the counter to order something and get frustrated with my daydreaming

Christmas Surprise

Christmas Surprise is the original story I’d started for @villain-friend, but decided I didn’t really enjoy it. But it’s a finished project and I feel like a crappy individual for making everyone involved wait, so I’m posting it anyways. Hopefully you all, especially you Villain-Friend, enjoy at least one of these stories. This is one features Anti and is from Winter prompt list numbers 129. “We’re not going to spend the holidays alone and sad. i won’t allow that!” and 135.  “I know that people usually kiss under mistletoe but.. I had other things planned.”

Outside the window snow drifts lazily from the soft grey sky. It's not sticking to the ground or any surface. You'd been hoping for a white Christmas, but it's not looking like that's in the cards. It's not just the lack of white powder on the ground that's dampened your holiday spirit.

Your mother and father had decided to take a spontaneous vacation to Hawaii, and your older siblings live too far away and can't be together for Christmas. Other than a few friends—that have their own Christmas traditions,  and an aunt you don't particularly enjoy seeing, you don't have much in ways of people to spend Christmas day with.

Even Anti had said he'd be busy. That was kind of the last straw. Despite his rough and more than manic exterior, Anti is a very trustworthy and loyal friend. Sure, you have a crush on him, but you don't let that interfere with your friendship.

Another loud sigh leaves your lips. You watch your neighbor three houses down walk her Basset Hound, Buddy. You smile slightly, liking the little dog's ears flopping as it trots to keep up with it's owner. You miss having your own little friend to keep you company.

Pouring your heated water into the 16 oz cup with peppermint hot coca mix in it, you stare out the fogged up window to the darkening sky. This is your third cup of spiked hot cocoa. You put a moderate amount of peppermint flavored vodka into your mixture to give it a little bit of a kick—not enough to get your drunk.

Turning you look at the decorations your mother had helped you put up, the small nativity scene you'd received from your dearly departed grandfather on your dad's side, and the tree your father helped you pick out and chop down. Presents litter beneath it.

Presents that wouldn't be opened because the majority of them are meant for your family and friends that wouldn't be stopping by. Originally you'd planned a large Christmas party to exchange gifts and have a merry time with the people you love most, but... as the month progressed people started retracting their invitations, your parents went on an unplanned trip, and others couldn't get the time off or family obligations took precedence over your get together.

You'd ended up canceling the whole thing, simply letting people know that they could stop by to pick up their presents from you whenever they can. You'd been looking forward to seeing your friends, seeing your family, seeing everyone really having a good time. Enjoying time together, sharing in the laughter and good times, but that's a dream by this point.

Tasting your coca mix you decide it needs a little more vodka and pour a little more into your cup, less than half a shot glass and stir it. Tasting it once more you nod at the flavor and take it to your couch, turning off lights as you move, you sit down on your couch, pulling a small black end table you use as a coffee table to the couch, and watch the Christmas lights twinkle and blink in the darkness.

You fall asleep with a half full coffee cup and the Christmas lights casting colorful shadows across your skin.

Looking down at your sleeping face Anti looks around the cozy apartment. For what it's worth, you have a good eye for style and placement. He always feels at home here. He enjoys your company.

With a sigh he runs a hand through his hair and snaps his fingers. Within a split second a thick, plush blanket with green little trees decorated in glittering ornaments and shimmering stars appears in his arm.

Anti walks closer to you and lays the blanket over your sleeping form. You look peaceful but sad. He doesn't particularly enjoy this combination on your face. It annoys him when you are sad. He rarely knows how he should help you or if he should even attempt to help you.

Anti debates with himself for a moment before resting his hand against your forehead, sipping his hand under your bangs to feel your skin. He knows this is invading your very precious privacy, but he wants to know how to help you. Without much more flourish he slips in you your mind, seeing everything he missed in his absence.

He sees what is causing you so much unhappiness. Loneliness.

The next afternoon you decided to go out for lunch. You'd been cooped up in your house for the past two days and decide you need human contact. Party of you wonders if Anti had stopped by last night but can't confirm it. Anti usually leaves something on the coffee table to signal he'd stopped by. Something specifically him.

You look at the folded blanket as you pass by the couch to put your shoes on you pause; you don't remember getting yourself a blanket. With yet another sigh you grab your jacket and leave your apartment, closing the door and locking it. You don't know where you're going to go for lunch just yet, deciding to just walk around and see what makes you hungry.

Walking down the street nearly four hours and a stop at a taco truck later you arrive back home. Your windows are dark aside from the Christmas lights twinkling on a timer. You take the stairs to your door and unlock it. Quickly you twist the knob and use your foot to push it open.

Your arms are currently holding your recent purchases from a few handmade shops. You'd found a wonderful knife set with hand carved wooden handles that remind you of Anti. You'd also found some cute little crystal frog sculptures for your friend Trinity among other things you don't care to list.

You slip your shoes off your feet, kicking them into the small cube behind your door and kick the door close. Moving into the living room you set your items down before going back to ensure the door is closed, lock it, and remove your jacket and scarf. Beside your coat rack is a multi-photo frame filled with photos of your youth and more recent memories. You smile at the photos and head back into the living room. Whenever Anti stops by you plan on giving him the wonderful knife set.

Anti does have an odd obsession with the common household blades. Gently you take your items from their bags and separate them by who they are for. You pause in your organization to gather up your wrapping paper, tape, and scissors before continuing.

Checking your phone for new messages you sit down on the edge of your bed. You reach down and pick up your phone charger from the floor as you respond to a message from Gale. Wishing a merry Christmas you say good night and plug your phone in. You turn on your white noise making app and lay down, staring up at the ceiling as the lights from your tree dance across the white paint. It soothes you, almost lulling you into forgetting the crushing loneliness you feel during what's supposed to be a happy time of year.

You fall asleep with that thought in mind...

"Hey, I made breakfast, if you want some you better get up now." Gale calls from your bedroom door.

You stir from your sleep, confused and more than just a little concerned you're hallucinating. "Gale?"

"Come on! Get a move on before AJ eats everything!" Gale shouts from the kitchen. Sitting up you listen to the sounds of your siblings bickering at each other before bolting from you bed. This is definitely your house, and you are in the right time frame...but... why are AJ and Gale in your house.

"What are you doing here?" You ask--more like demand. As far you understood it, neither would be able to join you for Christmas because they couldn't get time off from work and prices for plane tickets were--still are ridiculously expensive. "You said you couldn't come this year." You follow up when neither decide to say anything."That was before we were told that Mom and Dad abandoned you." Gale says cleaning off his hands with your dish towel. You frown at him. You weren't abandoned.

Before you can make the retort AJ voices, "well, not abandon you," She glares at Gale. “But still, why didn't you tell us? We heard that you cancelled your annual Christmas party too." You freeze for a moment, a little taken back by the question.

"You said you couldn't make it. I didn't want you to worry about me." you tell them looking away from them. You hate feeling guilty for something you can't control. It's not like you were going to beg them to visit you for Christmas.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean we wouldn't try to make it work. Thankfully I was able to convince my boss to let me attend the contract meeting in town. Told him I have ties to the community and can help in negotiations." AJ says looking quite proud of herself. You stare at your sister in awe. She has always been the convincing one, so really it shouldn't be so surprising.

"I just told my boss I needed the time off to spend with family since I haven't taken time off in nearly two years." Gale adds with a shrug. You smile in an attempt to hide the tears filling your eyes. You love your siblings and even as you know without a doubt they love you, you didn't think they'd put so much effort into being with you on Christmas.

"But...who told you I was going to be alone?" you ask as AJ puts her fork down and slips from her stool to comfort you. You've always been so easily overloaded by your own emotions. It's not something you ever asked for, and for the longest time you were ignorant to your own emotional reactions, but in recent years you've come to terms with it.

AJ coos to you as she wraps you up in her arms, soothing you with gentle fingers combing through your hair. "You're friend, that weird one with the green hair, he gave us a call and let us know what was going on. He seems to care a lot about you." AJ tells you. You blink and look at your brother for clarification.

Gale just nods his head and sets down his own plate and turns off the stove. You make vow to thank Anti in person for his intervention. He really didn't have to do anything like this for you.

"Anti?" you call late that time when your siblings have gone off to bed. Your place is big enough to accommodate them.

"Hey, didn't think you'd be awake." Anti says turning his head to look at you. He's spread out on your couch with an arm draped over his forehead. You smile at him.

"I was waiting up for you." You tell him perching on the armrest of the love seat across from Anti. "I wanted to thank you for contacting my brother and sister." You tell him smiling in the ever changing lights. "You didn't have to do that." You add.

Anti smirks and sits up, keeping eye contact with you. "To be honest I kind of did it for myself too." He tells you. "I felt pretty low. Christmas has always been a sore spot in my life." He adds looking down to his hands. You follow his dropped gaze. You don't really know why Christmas is a sore spot but it makes you feel a little guilty.

"I'm sorry, Anti. I didn't know. You don't have to stick around. If you need to..."

"No, don't be sorry." Anti tells you. His thick Irish accent commanding your full attention and obedience. "We’re not going to spend the holidays alone and sad. I won’t allow that."

You know he's serious by the look in his eyes. It makes you feel warm and bubbly with happiness.

"Then let's spend it together, Anti. You, me, and my brother and sister. They can be a handful, but they're good people and they'll welcome you with open arms." You suggest seeing the positive response in Anti's eyes.

"No take backs." he jokes and you laugh with him before getting out your spare blankets and pillow and get Anti settled in. You talk a little longer before sleep calls your name and you respond to it's call.

You spend the next two days on and off with your brother and sister and Anti. At night when AJ is off work you enjoy hot cocoa, popcorn, and Christmas themed movies, then when AJ and Gale have gone to sleep you cuddle up in the same blanket with Anti and watch horror movies based around Christmas.

You'd fallen asleep on the couch with Anti both times only to wake up with Gale and AJ snickering about the pair of you being a cute couple. You shooed them away and moved on with the day. Both times Anti heard them and teased you the rest of the day.

"Merry Christmas!!" Everyone cheers as the long awaited day finally dawns in your house. Everyone exchanges gifts, enjoying one another and their company and share stories of Christmases past. You made sure Anti shared in your family's traditional Christmas breakfast. You played the various games you'd gifted and received. You laughed along side Anti and your siblings as the morning lazily drifted into the afternoon.  

You'd and Anti had gone out to buy a few groceries and ended up messing around for a few house finally arriving home nearly two hours later than originally thought, cheeks flushed, chests heaving, laughter filling the cold air around you. You nearly bust down the door in your race to get inside. It's really only when Anti is with you that he let's his guard down and can get back a piece of who he once was.

Laughing as you nearly tumble right into the floor, face first, Anti wraps an arm around your waist and holds you from hitting the ground. The bags in his free hand disappears only to reappear on the kitchen counter.

AJ and Gale stand up from the couch to look at the commotion you and Anti are making. AJ smiles at Gale, nudging him in the rib as she points out the small piece of mistletoe handing from the ceiling. Both smile deviously at each other. "Hey! You're under the mistletoe!" AJ shouts.

Both you and Anti's heads snap up to look at the small piece of plant dangling from a white string. "AJ, did you hang up mistletoe?"

Anti simply stares at the mistletoe before glancing at your siblings then you again. Mistletoe has always been a holiday tradition in your household. A quick kiss on the cheek and you'd scurry away from the plant of embarrassment.

"What? It's always been a tradition!" AJ shouts trying to appear innocent despite her devious actions. "Well? Aren't you two gonna kiss?"

You feel your face heat up at her question. "AJ!" You shout, unable to find anything else to respond with. As much as you'd like to kiss Anti you know it's not quite right to ambush him like this, even if it isn't by your doing. "I know that people usually kiss under mistletoe but.. I had other things planned." You say quickly to dispel the tension filling the air between you and Anti. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his chest, slipping under his arms. "Well, really one thing and a few words." You clarify. "Thank you, Anti, for being my best and most loyal friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Anti chuckles, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. "I know what you mean." Anti tells you hugging you tightly. You know it's not what your sister and brother had been thinking but it's still just as meaningful to you.

Later that evening after you covered up AJ and Gale with a few plush throws you pick up the alcohol filled hot cocoa mugs and take them into the kitchen. You spot Anti standing near the door seemingly deep in thought. You smile at him and let him be. He seemed to be preoccupied since before dinner. Part of you wonders if it's because of the mistletoe incident, but you know Anti. He'd tell you if something was wrong.

Cleaning your cups, wiping down the counters, and making sure everything is put away properly you turn around to find Anti still in the same spot. You give him a confused look and walk over to him, gently laying your hand on his shoulder. "Anti?" You say softly.

Without warning Anti spins around, grabbing both your wrists, his eyes scanning your face--searching for something you can't exactly pinpoint.

"Whoa, Anti, are you okay?" you ask gauging Anti's response to your voice. Occasionally Anti has lapses of sanity and it's usually during that point he's most dangerous.Anti's eyes look you over before slowly releasing your wrists. "I care about you, you know that right?" Anti asks earning a confused look from you.

"Y-yes, I know and I care for you too, Anti." You respond. Anti nods, you can see he's warring with himself about something and it makes you uneasy. "Anti," you whisper softly, glancing at your sleeping siblings. "Are you feeling okay? D-do you need to go?" you ask in the same whisper.

Anti's eyes seem to map your face as you nervously tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear. "Y/n," He says earning your full attention. "We're under mistletoe." he informs you. You look up to confirm his words and look at him with confusion.

"Oh, I forgot to take that down." You say reaching up to grab a strand of the ribbon holding the mistletoe to the small peg in your ceiling. Anti quickly stops you. His hand holding yours as he brings it to his chest. "Anti?" Your voice is a ghost of sound, you're nervous and unsure what Anti is thinking.

"I care a lot about you." He tells you. You nod in agreement, unable to find your voice.

You don't know how it happened but you're in Anti's arms, his rough chapped lips pressed tightly against yours. You stand frozen in his arm for a few seconds before relaxing into his touch. Your eyes slowly close and you simply melt into his embrace. You don't notice when AJ sneaks from her spot on the floor to the kitchen and snaps a few photos. The best one being texted to your parents, Gale, and yourself.

another thing for the fic thing: "bathtubs aren't for sleeping"

send me a title and i’ll write a ficlet for it

bathtubs aren’t for sleeping

One thing Yuuri learned after moving in with Victor was that Victor loved soaking in his bath. It wasn’t something Yuuri had particularly paid attention to in Hasetsu - since using the onsen in their spare time was kind of expected - but once they’d started living under the same roof Yuuri got familiar with his habit. No matter how tired Victor was, he would always find a moment to relax in his bathtub, adding candles and salts while listening to chill music. 

Yuuri would frequently join him despite the bathtub being too small to fit both of them comfortably. Naturally, they worked their way around it - it was not like they didn’t enjoy having to be pressed together, bathing together was just an excuse for more cuddling.

It was one of those days where Victor arrived late from a full day of practicing, coaching and negotiating with his sponsors. Yuuri took care of everything - prepared a nice meal, added some candles on the dining table to set a comfortable mood, and planned on watching a movie together wrapped in a cozy blanket. Of course, once they were done with dinner Victor started making noises about running a bath before they started the movie, and Yuuri let him have a soak as he cleaned up the kitchen and prepared them some popcorn.

Victor would always take his time with his bath - enough that he’d step out of the bathroom with wrinkled fingertips - though it usually didn’t take longer than half an hour. So Yuuri chose a spot on their couch, cuddling Makkachin as they watched the news, waiting for Victor to get the movie ready to go. 

But sitting on the couch without Victor cuddling him always felt weird. It was difficult to find a comfortable position, the absence of Victor’s familiar shape and the warmth of his arms enveloped around him making it almost impossible to relax. Makkachin, getting tired of Yuuri’s incessant shuffling, decided to sprawl on the floor, sighing tiredly as Yuuri tried stacking pillows to lean on.

He called for Victor after checking his phone, finding it odd that his fiancé would take so long in the bath when he knew they were watching a movie. And as he got no response, Yuuri decided to check on him in the bath. 

Sure enough, Victor had dozed off, his head lolled in an awkward angle that would definitely get his neck sore, cheek pressed on his shoulder with bubbly water around his chest. Yuuri couldn’t help smiling at the scene, wasting no time in picking a fluffy towel from the counter and sinking his hand in the bath water. It was lukewarm, though the kind of lukewarm that was almost cold.

“Vitya,” Yuuri called, brushing his knuckles gently on his fiancé’s cheek. “Wake up, love.”

Victor hummed drowsily, blinking slow and bleary as he stirred in the bathtub. As he realized he’d fallen asleep, some Russian escaped his lips with a breath, and Yuuri smiled fondly, helping him sit and wrapping a towel around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, entwining his fingers with Yuuri’s as he got out of the bathtub. “Wow, I didn’t know I was so tired.” 

“No need to apologize, babe. You had a long day,” Yuuri smoothed a few wet strands of hair that clung to his forehead, placing a tender kiss on the spot as he helped Victor wrap himself in the towel. “I’ll help you get dressed and then we can go to sleep.”

“Didn’t you want to watch the movie?” He asked, helping Yuuri dry his skin with heavy, sleepy moves. 

Yuuri dismissed with a shrug. “We can watch it another day,” he said, and something akin to worry flashed behind Yuuri’s eyes for a second. Victor decided not to push him, focusing on wrapping a towel around his head to absorb the excess water. 

They go to bed shortly after, and Yuuri found it much more comfortable now that he got to tangle his limbs with Victor’s, inhale his scent, feel his fingers tracing circles on his scalp as they prepare to fall asleep. And even though he was comfortable, Yuuri couldn’t quite relax with the thoughts running through his head, his soft sighs catching Victor’s attention.

“Do you want to say something, love?” He asked, lips pressed on Yuuri’s forehead. 

Yuuri hesitated. He had his thoughts clear in his mind, but once he tried to get them in words it was like they got scrambled somewhere between his brain and his mouth. 

“Is it… Too much, Vitya?” He asked, resting his chin on Victor’s chest to look at him in their dimly lit bedroom. He knew he wasn’t specific enough, but Victor waited patiently. “The coaching. The training. I feel like… I wasn’t fair with you when I asked you to be my coach for another year, especially because you had already decided on your comeback and compete again. I think… I was selfish. Because I knew you’d say yes to coaching me again, but it wasn’t the right thing to ask of you. So, please, is it too much?”

Victor remained silent, his profile illuminated by the lit lamp in the living room looking sober and thoughtful as he ran his fingers through Yuuri’s messy hair as if to buy some time while he let his words sink in. 

“Yuuri,” he said eventually, and the lilt alone in his voice was enough to soothe Yuuri’s nerves, “I feel touched by your concern. I really do. Do you remember that time in Hasetsu when we talked by the ocean?”

Yuuri gave him a faint nod, attentive, wondering where this was going.

“Do you remember what you asked me to be?”

“I asked you to be who you are,” Yuuri replied quietly.

“And do you remember what I said in return?” Yuuri nodded. “That I’d show you my love through our passion for skating. Nobody had asked me to be who I am before, Yuuri. You showed me it was okay to take what I want in consideration over what others expect from me. Everybody expected me to retire then - you were maybe the only one who believed I could do a comeback. And I almost convinced myself that the only option left was for me to retire. But I wasn’t ready to let go yet, not when I felt that old, familiar competitive feeling I was lacking for so long stirring again when I watched you and Yuri doing so well, breaking my records. I knew wanted to come back to the ice. I wanted to skate again because it now feels so different, so… fun, like how it’s supposed to feel. And you gave me the reason to believe it was okay to pursue what I wanted despite most people not approving it, despite people thinking I wasn’t capable of doing it. They also thought I wasn’t capable of coaching you,” Victor shrugged, “and we proved them wrong. I guess I wanted to prove them wrong again.”

“But the coaching…” 

“It’s challenging, like skating without inspiration and aiming for the first place was. But it feels…” his eyes moved as if he searching the room for the right word. “Right. It’s hard work, but the reward makes it worth it,” Victor smiled at him, grazing the pad of his thumb on Yuuri’s lower lip. “I didn’t want to think of returning to the ice without you, and I didn’t want to stop being your coach either, so there’s no reason for you to think you’re taking advantage of me, love. I want this. It’s like I get the best of both worlds, coaching you and being your competitor.” 

Yuuri smiled, fluttering his eyes shut and leaning into Victor’s touch on his cheek. He kissed the palm of Victor’s hand gently, his heart swelling in his chest with his fiancé’s reassurance. They still had a lot to work on in terms of their relationship, but Yuuri was glad that opening up with each other was growing much easier.

“WIll you let me know if it’s too much?” Yuuri asked, entwining their fingers together. 

And Victor smiled at him, fondness pouring wordless form his expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly. 

“Of course, my love.”

False Alarms (A CS AU) Part 6/?

Modern AU where Emma is a Boston police detective and Killian is firefighter. They both get called to a fire in progress but it ends up being a false alarm, however there can be no denying the sparks between them. Includes fluff and my usual attempts at humor as well as a touch of fake-dating and meddling friends. Inspired by the song ‘False Alarm’ by Motoma and Becky Hill. Rated M for future chapters.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five ; On Fanfiction Here.

A/N: So despite the title of this fic, not every call in the line of duty for a cop or a firefighter can be a false alarm, and sometimes there are pretty close calls. This chapter will be dealing with one of those. But don’t worry, I never linger on angst for long, and the chapter also introduces the M rating so there’s smuff to smooth over any would-be anxiety. Hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading!

“Can you believe the day we’ve got going right now?” Graham asked, standing at the doorway of the station by Killian’s side, watching as the rest of the crew worked on cleaning off the engines outside.

The weather merited comment today because despite the fact that they were still braving the winter months, Mother Nature had brought a surprise – a gloriously sunny day with temperatures more befitting May than anything else. It was a nice change, and had vastly improved the moods not just of the others at the firehouse, but the people in the city as well. Killian appreciated it too, but to be honest, his mood hadn’t needed any heavy lifting. He was enjoying life to the fullest already, and he had one blonde, brilliant detective to thank for that.

“You know they warn you about New England winters when you take this job,” Killian affirmed, “They tell you all about the blizzards and how snow emergencies can effect a ride and response. But they don’t prepare you for days like this.”

“Well get used to the changes. With our luck we’ll get a week of warm temps and sunshine and then another two feet of snow. If there’s one thing to know, it’s you can’t trust Boston weather.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Killian replied, enjoying his morning coffee as he and Graham watched a fight on the cusp of starting.

“I swear to God Scarlet if you spray me with that hose I will actually kill you!” The threat from Tink was completely serious, and Killian winced just thinking about how angry their ladder leader would get if Will was as hair brained as he pretended to be and turned the spray her way.

“Aw come on Tink. I’m practically you’re oldest friend…” Will baited and Tink scoffed, shaking the towel in her hand at him.

“Bull shit! And you can kiss the idea of me even tolerating you goodbye if you mess with me right now. I’m serious Will, back off.”

Tink was already poised to act and whether it was to either sprint away or charge Will, Killian couldn’t say. But he could see the actual consideration in Will’s eyes. He trusted his friend would make the right choice and be a grown adult about this, but then a challenge was presented and Killian didn’t know what to expect.

“I say you do it man,” Gus joked from the other engine. “No one’s gotten Tink real mad in a while.”

“Because everyone wants to remain in one piece,” Tink snapped causing a chorus of ‘oohs’ from the others cleaning.

A number of scenarios passed through Killian’s mind in that moment, and though he knew the firehouse was bound tightly together in a unit, there was a risk here. Tink did have a bit of a temper after all, and Will did like to push the envelope. Besides, with Gus getting involved and putting his two cents in as the probie and low-man on the pole, they might be in real trouble. Someone should step in.

“Anyone who starts a water fight is getting kitchen clean up for a week, you got that?” Graham called out beside him and Killian grinned at his lieutenant.

“Some days I wonder why you don’t have my job,” Killian admitted only half joking.

“Some days I wonder the same thing,” Graham tossed back humorously before another cry came from the truck bay.

“Did you all see this week’s picture?” one of the EMT’s named Thomas asked. “Sergeant Jones and his girl got pretty cozy at that open house.”

The response from everyone was a rowdy one as Killian had come to expect whenever Emma was brought up. He was a bit disheartened though since he thought he’d successfully hidden the copies of The Globe that were dropped off at the house this morning. Clearly some of them had gone unchecked, or Thomas had just been snooping. As such the squad now had access to a picture of Killian and Emma sharing a smile while in the company of some of the city’s cutest kids donning fake police badges and fire hats. It was ‘PR gold’ as Emma’s mother and the mayor’s office had put it, but Killian saw it as a snapshot of a great memory he was glad to have.

Thinking back to that afternoon just a few days back, Killian had the immediate urge to smile. It had been chaos in so many ways, with the engine house they’d used as a base swarming with children and their families as well as neighbors from the borough that the engine serviced. It was loud and packed with people, and in the midst of all of that, Emma and Killian had known they’d be watched all afternoon. But Emma, charming and graceful as she was, decided to put her best foot forward and to bring Killian with her.

Hours passed in the most enjoyable way, with Emma and Killian leading different games and answering questions for the little ones, and at more than one instance Killian found himself watching her. Surrounded by all these children and enjoying herself in a way that was reminiscent of being a kid herself, Emma was beautiful, entrancing, and impossible to ignore. Killian pondered most of the afternoon about what it would be like for Emma to have children of her own. He knew she’d be a spectacular mother, but in those imaginings Emma wasn’t going it alone – no, she was standing there with him, sending him that same knowing smile and lighting up his world.

It was crazy to think how little time they’d known each other and already Killian’s imagination was running away with him this way. He’d never experienced anything like it, but the sureness he had in Emma was unchecked. There was just something about her that eased his worries and convinced him that more was possible. With Emma in his life and in his world, everything seemed brighter and more vibrant. For the first time Killian wasn’t just content but actually happy and he had to credit that change to Emma. She was the one who gave him that, and the one who he was starting to build so many hopes for the future on.

“So remind me again how the new Sergeant not only scores one Detective Emma Nolan, but also gets the acceptance of the District Chief? Because something just isn’t adding up here.”

Will’s words pulled Killian back from the haze of his recent memories. They were meant in jest clearly, and Killian could read his friend’s humor in all of this, but it still set him on edge to discuss his relationship publically. 

Killian had long prided himself on being a man who spoke the truth. Honor was important to him, and full disclosure with his team was a part of that code he held so close, but when it came to him and Emma things were complicated. The start of their relationship had been unique, and though they were dating now and they had an understanding between them that this was a permanent, exclusive, romantic attachment, there was still the matter of telling her parents it was a real thing between them.

“I feel like maybe we can cross that bridge when we get there,” Emma said the night before when she was at his place and in his arms. “Besides, if you think my Mom is overbearing now, just wait until I tell her I actually like you. She’ll take it to a whole new level.”

Killian smiled now thinking of the way Emma put it, and the way he’d made her admit that there was more than mere ‘liking’ between them. It might not be love (at least not declared between the two of them), but the promise from Emma that they mattered and that they were starting something together that was real and worth exploring soothed something in Killian. He couldn’t shake the feeling that as long as he had Emma, everything would be all right, and so he didn’t dare risk losing her.

“It’s likely thanks to my dashing good looks and roguish charisma,” Killian quipped and the whole squad laughed at that ridiculous statement, but Will was onto Killian and his friend didn’t look inclined to let it go easily. Before Will could make some witty retort, however, the alarm blared through the space around them, setting everyone off into an instinctual set of movements to man to trucks.

“Saved by the bell,” Graham said as Killian and he headed into the house to gear up. Killian shook his head, knowing he shouldn’t engage in the teasing any longer. Now was the time to get serious again and focus entirely on doing things right and getting to whatever situation awaited them, but he couldn’t help pointing out an obvious fact to Graham.

“And you’ve been saved from speculation by me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of scrutiny you’ve gotten with your own detective,” Killian said and Graham laughed.

“Fair enough.”

Grabbing their gear and manning their stations was second nature to most everyone in the house. The rigorous training they’d all gone through and the years of experience most of the people on this team had made for a well-oiled machine that performed even as the harsh tones of the alarm droned on and on. This was a familiar dance to all of them, and for Killian that continued wailing sound was what put him in the headspace he needed. It got him moving at top speed and kept him vigilant to the others, making sure they all filed into place with speed and efficiency all in one.

Once on the trucks, they got the basics from their dispatch team – fire in progress in a warehouse on the south side of their district by the docks. There wasn’t as of yet an alarm number garnered, but from the description the 9-11 call had made, it was shaping up to be a big one.

The ride from the firehouse to the docks was mercifully smooth without the added burden of rush hour traffic before them all, but it would never be truly easy maneuvering one of these engines through city streets. If he’d had space in his mind to do more than focus on the possibilities a warehouse fire could bring, Killian would likely applaud his team members manning these vessels right now.

By the time they arrived, station thirty-two was already on site and making moves to start an offensive against the blaze and when Killian touched base with their Captain the plan was made clear. This would be a three-pronged fight: They’d attack from the exterior, the lower levels and a special unit entering from higher above. Thirty-two would provide the higher reaches and some exterior work, leaving Killian and Graham leading the majority of their team inside.

Conversation was brief, with just the basic directions of the plan in place, and though there was some idea of what they might be walking into, none of them were stupid enough to think they could totally anticipate this fire. That should have gone unspoken and be branded in the minds of every fighter on this team, but Killian repeated that sentiment again for the record into his headset.

“We all come home tonight, and we do that by sticking the course and following orders. You got that?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” his team responded and then they were off, cutting through the smoke and flame to try and do their job and prevent more damage to this section of the docks.

Visibility in the warehouse was low thanks to the billowing smoke, but it wasn’t the worst Killian had ever been through, and at first he was confident in every move his team made. They made note of what corners and portions could be swept through first, and the primary objective was to see if anyone was inside. This wasn’t a residential building, but there was always the chance with big spaces like this of someone coming in for some reason and not being accounted for. They needed to clear every corner they could and then start the hard work, but all through this each member of their team knew when to call out and check in.

“We’ve got a problem, Sergeant,” Will called out at one point and then he flashed his light towards a far corner that had a half a dozen large drums of a material they couldn’t ascertain from this distance. “Probably flammable; could go up and mess up the whole structure.”

“Thirty-two be advised we’ve got a possible accelerant on the north side along the walls. Abort entry,” Killian said into the radio, hearing the acknowledgment of the other team just before a blast came from those tubs. The force of the blast was harsh and harrowing, and just as Will had expected it created a host of problems, not the least of which was the added instability of the beams above them.

“Tink, where are we out outside?” Killian asked, already anticipating her response.

“Those flames spiked high sir, and it’s infiltrated the warehouse next door. We’re trying to control it.”

Damnit! Killian thought to himself. That would change the plan and just as he was formulating their need to get out of here, Graham mirrored his thoughts with a proclamation of his own.

“It’s too hot in here, Serg! We gotta tackle this thing outside!” Graham exclaimed and Killian agreed, ordering everyone out of there now, but from the corner of his eye Killian noticed one of his men lagging behind. It was Gus, their probie, and his staggered movements and bent over frame immediately told Killian what was wrong: the smoke was getting to him and so something must be wrong with his suit.

“Get everyone out!” Killian ordered Graham and then without thought for anything else Killian sprinted back the extra distance, grabbing onto Gus just as it seemed his body might give way.

The man’s knees went weak, but he was conscious and that was something. Killian tried to tell him to hold on, but all of this was pure instinct now. He had to make a way for them out of this and it was easier said than done. Gus wasn’t a tiny guy by any means, but Killian had carried more and been through worse. He didn’t have any real fears until a portion of the rafters above came down, blocking their original path out and separating them from the rest of the team.

“Damn it!” Killian yelled to no one in particular, but he scouted another way, not letting himself fear what he had to do. Right now the key was survival and getting him and Gus out of there as fast as he could.

It was hard to find an answer right away, and that wasn’t helped by the continued calls on his attention from the others through their headsets. He begged them all for quiet and to keep going, but with every passing second doubt crept in. Then when a path seemed impossible to find, Killian felt this unfamiliar need welling inside him. He couldn’t accept defeat – he had to keep going. There was too much to fight for, and one woman in particular who he had to see again. He had to get out of here and then home to see her.

Clutching onto that feeling that he could not fail, Killian meandered around the wreckage and got them to the exit, but he could feel the damage to his suit when they made it into the blinding brightness of outside and knew he’d nicked himself a few places and risked a few burns. Graham was right about those temps, it was too hot in there, and he was gasping for air by the time they got outside.

“We need some help over here!” Graham yelled as he and Killian looked over a clearly dazed Gus who was spread out on the ground a safe distance from the blaze.

Graham made quick work of checking Gus’ equipment and saw the fracture in his mask and mouthpiece, making note of it to Killian. Now the only question was had that been there when Gus grabbed it before, and if so, did the man realize how bloody dangerous it was to go into a fire without every piece of equipment working at top ability? At the same time the EMTs responded, treating Gus and assessing that there was some damage from the inhalation and a mild concussion from some of the jerked motions Killian had to make to get them out but nothing terribly serious.

“We gotta take him to Mass Gen, but it doesn’t look life threatening,” Thomas said leading Killian to sigh in relief. Well that was one thing they didn’t have to worry about.

“Wouldn’t have been able to say the same thing if you hadn’t gone back for him, Serg” Will noted and Killian shook his head, not wanting them all to get sidetracked.

“We can hash it all out later. Right now we’ve got to be mindful. We can’t take our eyes off of this,” Killian said, mentally calculating that everyone on his team was now outside and safely battling the flames. They were and that gave him some small comfort.

“There’s no we right now, Sarg. You’ve gotta get checked out too. Last thing we need is you falling apart on us” Will argued, all of his teasing from before long gone. There was almost a command in his friend’s voice, as if he were the superior in this situation. It made Killian laugh, but the sound came out harsh and grating and provided no comfort for any of the others.

“I’ve got this for now,” Graham promised and Killian nodded, knowing it was better to let them clear him in the ambulance and keep his eye on things from afar then to fight them on it and find out there was trouble later.

In the end Killian was willing to give the paramedics twenty minute of time and in that they confirmed that his own injuries were minimal. He heard the phrase ‘close call’ a few more times than he would have liked, but Killian also knew they were right. His suit had managed to take most of the hit today, but he’d have some aches and pains for a few days, and he was a little cut up here and there. As it was he was damn lucky, and so was Gus. This whole scenario could have played out very differently.

But Killian wouldn’t let himself linger on that. Instead he returned to his post by the ladder and with his people until they were called off and relieved. The blaze was dying down (thanks to the milder weather that meant the water wasn’t freezing as it would have just a few days ago) by the time his team departed, and all along the ride home there was silence as if the crew knew just how near they’d been to a more tragic afternoon. Only when they were back at the house did Will speak up.

“Shift’s over in twenty minutes and I’m sure probie will still be at Mass Gen.”

The chorus of agreements signaled to Killian that they’d all be going to see him, but Killian didn’t think he could face that today. He needed the space to get his head on straight before going to see Gus, otherwise he ran the risk of berating the poor kid for his rookie mistake. From the way Graham said nothing and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, Killian took that his Lieutenant felt the same way.

“I’ll brief the Captain on what happened and check on Gus after. Maybe by then I’ll stand a chance of not reading him the riot act.”

“I appreciate it, mate,” Killian said readying himself to get out of here. He was in need of a shower and some clean clothes and then he’d be heading directly to Emma’s. Well that was if she could see him, which he desperately hoped she could.

“Tink will take you home,” Graham said and Killian started to refuse but it was Tink who put her foot down.

“Don’t even start. You’re going home and that’s that.”

Killian decided not to argue and figured the slight delay wouldn’t kill him. Though he didn’t want to have to be patient, Killian would be to put his crew at ease and it would give him time to get himself a bit more under control before he saw Emma. Without that chance he might just take her in his arms and never let go.

“Hey Sergeant?” Graham called out later when Killian was just about to leave with Tink. Killian turned back to his colleague, finding his friend looking serious.  “When we were joking earlier about who has which job, I didn’t mean anything by it, and if I had, I definitely wouldn’t mean it after today. This house needs you.”

“A Sergeant is only as good as his team, Graham. You’ll learn that soon enough,” Killian offered, slapping his new friend on the shoulder in an unspoken salute of thanks before heading out in the hopes of finding Emma, the woman who had unintentionally seen him through today in a truly miraculous way.

…………

Distractions while on duty weren’t something that Emma or Ruby often found themselves subject to. There was a state of mind both friends entered when they were officially on the clock and serving this city that they didn’t mess with. They prided themselves on being on their A game anytime they donned their badge, but today a wrench was thrown in their usual way of doing things and it all stemmed from one call that came over the radio:

“We’ve got a possible four alarm in progress at 69 Harrison. Be advised that firehouses sixty-one and thirty-two are en route and patrol from District three is clearing the area and setting a perimeter.”

That warning had been sent out three hours ago and the fire had been roaring away steadily according to the updates Ruby and Emma had been able to get. They weren’t able to sit on the radio waves listening because they still had work to do, but the situation wasn’t far from either of their minds. It followed them through secondary interviews from an incident from the last shift, consulting with some academy teachers who wanted them to give a lecture on rising through the ranks, and a drive-by check of one of the local businesses where the owner was wary of people casing for an easy robbery mark.

But finally when their shift was over, Emma and Ruby came to the unspoken agreement that they were sticking together until there was word one way or another. Now they were sitting at the counter of the bar just across the way from the station and waiting over a drink for what Emma had to believe would be a routine end to a pretty bad fire. She couldn’t let herself linger in thoughts that something could go wrong because this was their reality. Killian was a firefighter and he loved what he did. Emma had seen that same dedication when it came to her Dad and his work too, and that passion and capability would keep him safe. It just had to.

At the same time though, Emma was craving some kind of closeness with Killian right now, and she’d found it with what Ruby acknowledged was a peculiar choice in drink for her. Rum wasn’t usually Emma’s go to choice, but Killian liked it and the other night when he’d invited her to his apartment for the first time it was all he’d had to offer. It was nice though, and the taste and burn on her tongue helped zap away some of the underlying current of worry and reminded her of the kisses they’d subsequently shared that night at his place.

“How did your Mom do this for so long?” Ruby asked, clearly feeling the uncertainty a little more than Emma currently was.

That’s not to say that Emma wasn’t worried; there were a lot of factors when it came to firefighting that could put Killian and his crew at risk, and it wasn’t exactly the safest line of work by any means, but Mary Margaret Nolan had always been a beacon of strength and hope when her husband was called into the line of duty and she’d passed that onto Emma. You couldn’t worry until the problems came. That wasn’t any way to live.

“A lot of cocoa and a lot of random hobbies. You know all those needlepoint signs my parents have in their house?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded. “Those started one summer when there were a string of arson cases in my Dad’s district, and they just never stopped.”

“Well if I follow in your mother’s footsteps you can be damn sure I’ll drink something stronger than hot chocolate and have dirtier puns on my pillow cases,” Ruby said, trying to joke with Emma despite the continued unease.

“I could help you with some of those if you want,” a voice said from behind them and when they turned around it was Graham. Immediately Ruby was in motion, pulling him down for a kiss that totally disregarded everyone in the place, Emma included. But when they came back up for air (after a rather long and passionate interlude), Graham looked mighty pleased with the warm welcome. “Well hello to you too.”

“Is the fire out?” Emma asked and Graham turned to her with an answer at the ready.

“Almost. We got relieved half an hour ago, though. I’m about to head to Mass Gen and check on one of our guys.”

Emma’s face must have given her concern away though she tried to conceal it as best she could, but when Graham filled in that it was one of the new people on the squad and that Killian was the one who got him out, Emma’s heart restarted again. Killian was safe – and that was what mattered.

“I usually wouldn’t say this – we’ve got fire house superstitions after all – but this one was pretty close, Emma. Killian’s a tough guy, but anyone would be a little shaken up after what he went through. I don’t even know how he managed it honestly.”

“Is he at the station?” Emma asked, already grabbing her jacket, ready to go.

“No, he’s home. I had Tink make sure he got there and I just got a text to confirm it. Maybe you should -,”

“I think Emma’s got a plan already, Graham,” Ruby said, nodding at Emma in a silent exchange. Emma knew if she needed anything Ruby would be there for her and she appreciated it, but right now all she needed was to see Killian and make sure he was really okay.

Getting out of the bar and back to her car, Emma tried to map out exactly what to do here. She and Killian had only been dating a couple of weeks and it was still new and fresh between them, but she wanted to be what Killian needed today and she was also a little selfish in wanting the comfort of being with him too. Despite the brave face she’d held the past few hours she was worried, and the only relief for that built up emotion would be seeing Killian again.

Emma debated calling him and reaching out to check that coming over was even a good idea, and then she considered bringing something with her, but she was at a loss. What did you bring someone who fought a fire and nearly lost? She didn’t know the answer, and when it was her parents in that situation, her Dad always said the best remedy was coming home to his family. They might not be at that level yet, but Emma did know that she mattered to Killian, and if there was even a chance that her presence would help him then she needed to give him that.

Just as Emma parked her car in front of Killian’s loft, her phone rang and the sound split through Emma’s internal planning about what to say and how to act and jolted her back to the present. Emma fully intended to ignore whoever was on the other end of this call, but then she saw it was Killian and she knew she had to answer even as she was crossing the street to get to him right now.

“Killian,” Emma said, not having anything else but him name that she could think to say right now, and from the relieved sigh on the other end of the phone he didn’t seem to mind.

“God it’s good to hear your voice, love.”

“Rough day?” She asked, already knowing it had been worse than rough and Killian let out a half-hearted chuckle.

“I’ve certainly had better,” he said as Emma managed to slip inside the building when another tenant was leaving. She headed up the stairs two at a time as he made a request that warmed her heart. “I was wondering... is there any way I might see you tonight, love? I know you’ve had a long day of your own but…”

“I think that might be arranged,” Emma agreed and before Killian could reply with any kind of particulars, she knocked at his front door and found him on the other side looking downright thrilled to see her.

“Emma,” he said, forgetting his phone and pulling her into his arms quickly.

She melted into Killian’s embrace without hesitation and then she closed her eyes, trying to deal with the fact that the smell of smoke still lingered on him. It was just another reminder for her of what Graham had said – they’d had a real close call today and she could have possibly lost this man she’d only just found. To combat the swell of emotion that thought brought, Emma tried to ground herself in the fact that he was really here.

Beyond the smoke was the familiar scent that she’d come to associate with Killian, and the warmth of his arms around her. She felt that same comfort that only Killian ever provided and Emma felt even more secure in her choice to come here as he mumbled relieved words. They were whispered so low she couldn’t hear much more than the slight lilt of his action and the reverent tone but they were perfect all the same.

Finally Emma pulled back to look at him and she took everything in, wiping away a slight smudge of black soot he’d missed from his handsome face and noticing the scratches he’d accrued in today’s action. If she had to guess he’d be a little worse for wear all over, but he was here and whole and that was the most important thing.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, clearly still stunned.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she confessed.

With that Emma pressed a kiss to his lips that went from soft and sweet to heated all too fast. Emma understood why that was. They were both trying to find a way to channel the immense emotions in the room, but she didn’t want to get so caught up in the physical that she wasn’t really there for Killian. So as hard as it was to pull back, Emma did so, looking back into his eyes that now seemed slightly warmer and offering a small smile.

“The way I see it we have to options. You tell me what happened today over some rum, or we actively avoid what happened today, also with rum. Your call.”

Killian’s smile actually reached his eyes in that moment, and he ran his thumb along her cheek, gazing at her with this mix of affection and awe that made Emma feel like she was so much more powerful than she felt. The only thing she could offer Killian right now was company and maybe the comfort of listening, but he made her feel like she was the answer to all of his problems with a simple look.

“You are remarkable, Emma. I hope you know that,” he whispered, sending a thrill of pleasure through her. Then he took her hand in his and led her to the couch as he went to go get them two glasses and the bottle of rum she knew that he had here. When he was back, Killian made sure to keep no distance between them, and Emma was pulled into his arms, loving that way that she was so wrapped up in him and connected like this.

“So what’s the verdict?” Emma asked and Killian chuckled shaking his head.

“Part of me is tempted to take you up on the offer of avoidance, but I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn’t do that anymore. Better to face the darkness head on than suffer the fall out later.”

Emma was so relieved to hear that he felt that way, because she’d always seen things that way in her line of work too. Her parents taught her from the start of her time on the force that bad things would happen. Cases would go south in an instant, people would get hurt or worse, and the good guys didn’t always win despite what the fairy tales said. But the only way through pain was to face it, and the only way to keep in jobs like these was to acknowledge the risk and to accept that things happened for a reason, even if there was no explanation you could understand.

“Graham said something about the probie…” Emma urged on and Killian nodded.

“Aye, Gus. He’s a good man but wet behind the ears. He should have seen the problem before it got so bad – his mask was damaged even before we faced the flames - but he’s still new and he’s still got that need for the action over safety. He hasn’t yet learned that a fire doesn’t care if your heart’s in the right place. Destruction comes to anything that stands in its path and today it could have taken him.”

“But you didn’t let that happen,” Emma said, not knowing the full details but instinctively guessing that Killian would always be mindful of the men and women of his house.

“No, I didn’t. But it wasn’t easy, and there was a moment in there when I… when I thought I might have made the wrong call. I couldn’t see a way out of there, but I had to.”

Emma’s hand ran along his chest as she stayed tucked into him. She could feel the tightness in her throat as it constricted with residual fear. God that must have been terrifying – knowing that you were trying to save someone and that you might have just sacrificed yourself in the process. But it was also a spike in fear and emotion that she understood. She’d been in a few touch and go firefights before, had a few close calls where a bulletproof vest had made the difference between her coming home that night and never coming home again, but the fear was always there every time. Even if it was your instinct to protect others, it didn’t make you feel brave, at least it never had for Emma.

“I thought of you in that moment, Emma. That moment when I didn’t know if we’d get through that door, you were there. I heard your voice and thought to myself that I couldn’t have heard it for the last time. I couldn’t never see your smile again or watch the way your whole person lights up when you laugh. I had to get out of there, and so I did.”

“Killian, I -,”

Killian put their glasses back down on the table before them before bringing Emma to face him completely. His earnestness in this moment was almost overwhelming, and the tears that had been forming through some of his professions about how much she meant to him became that much more prominent. He noticed them too, and Emma could hear the tautness of his tone as a response.

“Look, Emma, I don’t want to rush things or make you feel like you have to feel a certain way, but I’ve known for a while that what we’re doing here… it’s bigger than anything I’ve done in my past. Being with you brings more than mere happiness to my world, love. It’s like when I’m with you, I’ve the remedy to move past everything else.”

Emma bit her lip, wanting to say the same thing to him because she could feel this connection he was talking about. A lot of her old fears and worries were assuaged by Killian’s presence. He was a positive force in her life that didn’t take, take, take, but gave her so much instead. Nothing about Killian was contrived or forced – he was totally genuine and that was so amazing to her, because it meant that all the intense emotions she had about him were actually mirrored back. For once she wasn’t terrified of getting hurt. She trusted this man with her heart and she had given that trust to him faster than she’d ever been able to with anyone else.

“It’s like I said though, love, I don’t expect anything. I just -,”

In that moment, Emma couldn’t stand to hear him second guessing himself and she silenced his worries with another kiss. This time though, Emma didn’t care about getting carried away, in fact she felt free to push for so much more with Killian because of what they’d just shared. This level of openness and honesty was invigorating even where it once would have terrified her and today Killian had let himself be vulnerable with her, which truly led Emma to believe that she could do the same with him. With Killian taking the risk didn’t actually seem so risky, and walking away from the way she felt right now with him flush against her and seeking out more, just wasn’t an option.

“This is different for me too,” Emma said when they pulled back, her eyes fluttering open in time to see the adorably smitten look on Killian’s face right now. It made her whole body heat even more than the kiss had and it prompted her further with her confessions. “And I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to relationships, but I think if we’ve found something like this we should go for it, fast or not.”

“God I love the sound of that,” Killian said, and the undeniable honesty in the way he said it was the final breaking point for her. Suddenly Emma was so far past her more honorable intentions of before, and all she wanted was her and Killian as close as they could be. 

Killian must have understood her shifts in need, and he was hardly unhappy with the prospect, sweeping her up with him to his bedroom (despite the injuries she knew he must have), and taking her breath away with kisses and attentions that never stopped. He was everywhere all at once, but still Emma wanted more and she knew just how to get it. With a firm push against his chest, she separated them, moving to strip away her clothes from today with a clear, slow intent.

“You gonna just stand there or are you going to join me?” Emma asked after a few seconds of watching Killian take her in. His eyes on her fed this part of Emma that had gone hungry for so long and she felt powerful and wanted in a way that she loved. But she also wanted him with her, and she wanted them both so lost in each other that they forgot everything about today and pushed past it to something so much more desirable.

“Can’t fault a man for looking, love. You’re like heaven itself.”

Emma flushed at the compliment, but she was determined to make him move so she could get her chance to look her fill too. So when she was just about to remove her bra she stalled, flicking up a suggestive smile to this man who was totally focused on her.

“Lose the clothes, Sergeant. That’s an order.”

This time Killian quickly responded but there was a look in his eyes that said he was humoring her. She might have just given the command, but it was only a matter of time before he turned the tables and used that sexy as sin voice and his all too fantastic skill in making her mindless with pleasure against her. Just the thought had her mind racing, and by the time he’d actually gotten around to stripping away his shirt and pants she was shaking with the anticipation of everything that was coming.

When both of them were bared to each other, Emma stopped trying to fight for any control and she pulled him down for another scorching kiss as he maneuvered them to the bed. It was a dizzying kind of thrill as Killian’s hands and mouth roamed against her naked flesh, and her heart pounded in her ears even as her whole body hummed out this sound of joy. She was so ready for this, and the incidents of their day had only made that sharp need for him so much keener. What if they’d lost this? Emma couldn’t imagine this being over before it even really had the chance to begin.

Eventually Killian broke away from their hungry kiss and moved down her jaw to her neck and found that spot that always drove her crazy so quickly she had to moan and arch into him, but he had other ideas. The frazzled sense of awe he’d just had was long gone and instead he was all willful command. Killian was totally in control and from the flash of dark heat in his blue eyes Emma knew she was about to reap the benefits of that meticulous worship.

“A bit impatient aren’t we, love?” Killian asked teasingly, with his hot breath against her neck and driving her crazy.

“Can you blame me?” Emma asked, not even bothering to deny it and Killian chuckled as his kisses moved lower along her flesh until he was at her breasts and smiling with that almost infuriatingly attractive grin of his.

“Not when I want you even more than you can possibly imagine.”

Emma was going to argue that that seemed unlikely since he was the one making this a slow, meticulous exploration instead of the hard and fast release she knew he wanted, but then he was peppering her sensitive flesh with just the right mix of kisses, nips, and sucks designed to totally unwind her resistance.

And yes, maybe there was a chance that Emma could have pushed through that onslaught of pleasure to get him to go faster, but the only thing in her mind right now was that Killian needed this. Today had been too close and too dangerous, and now he was reminding them both of what they’d found together and what was waiting for them if they made it through the hard times and back into each other’s arms.

In the midst of his glorious attentions to her breasts, Killian’s hand trailed down her stomach creeping to the vee between her legs where Emma so desperately needed relief. The ache for him was straining to be released, and Killian’s quick attentions to her clit were designed to spark that coiling need into something so much more fulfilling. Before Emma even imagined it could be possible she was falling apart and calling out his name, and when she came down from that haze of perfect feeling, the look in Killian’s eyes was almost wild. He seemed addicted to making her come apart, and Emma swallowed harshly almost fearing just how much he was going to give her to sate that need on his part tonight.

She didn’t have time to worry long though, not when Killian’s mouth moved lower and lower in a rough then reverent way that would likely leave marks on her skin tomorrow. Emma didn’t mind those abrasions. Actually she reveled in the thought that come the morning she’d have those spots of his creation to remind her of this moment right here, when Killian made her feel like anything was possible and she was destined to feel this good every damn day.

By the time he’d gotten to her inner thigh, Emma was pulsing with the need to have his mouth on her sex. Craving that feeling wasn’t even a strong enough word for it – Emma thought she might die without it, and then he was there and she was gone for him all over again. It was pure magic, the feel of Killian making love to her this way and when she’d fallen apart by his ministrations again and was close to another shattering climax she pleaded with him to give them both more.

“Killian – I need you, please.”

Emma wasn’t certain if it was the please or the expression of her need for him, but he mercifully responded by coming back up to her and taking her lips in a hard kiss again. This time she could taste herself and it felt so damn intimate and dirty and fucking perfect, but that was nothing to the moment when he thrust inside her, filling Emma with that feeling of total completion.

The string of curses from Killian made Emma want to laugh but she didn’t have the chance when he was dead set on creating a rhythm that was as close to heaven sent as could be. She wanted to be frustrated at the fact that he’d done so much for her without giving her the chance to return the favor, but his continued praise that he lavished her with as he propelled them further told Emma that Killian had gotten exactly what he wanted. And in the end, all Emma could do was claw at him to get closer and plead for more of the same because she was so freaking close until suddenly she was there, falling apart and loving the fact that she’d brought him with her.

In the aftermath of that earth shattering release, Emma and Killian stayed curled up together in his bed, silently allowing their hands to roam. It was a calmer sense of searching, but Emma didn’t have to look very hard to find what she was looking for. Killian brought her this sense of peace and belonging that she’d never known before, and from the smile on his face and the light in his eyes, Emma knew he was feeling it too. What they had couldn’t be denied in anyway, and that fact led Emma to say something she’d been wanting to find the bravery to say for a while.

“I’m going to tell them,” she whispered and Killian’s brow furrowed at the words.

“Tell them?” he asked, not following her thoughts, which were admittedly random.

“I’m going to tell my parents the truth,” Emma said and Killian’s arms tensed for just a second until Emma ran her hand across his chest soothingly. “I’m going to tell them that this is real - that we are real - and that in a few weeks when the mayor’s office is tired of using us a PR prop, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Damn right, I’m not,” Killian growled, making Emma giggle as he pulled her closer to him again. “But perhaps you could wait until morning, love. I have a few thoughts left on how to spend the evening, and they weren’t particularly conducive to seeing your folks.”

“Fair enough,” Emma agreed before sealing the agreement with a kiss and falling into this remarkable man all over again.

Post-Note: So first and foremost I want to thank you all for your patience. As you guys can obviously tell this was a much longer break from this story than I first anticipated but there were a couple of reasons for that. The first was I knew I wanted this chapter to include a close call for the firehouse and I needed to make that work. I hate writing angst (and I would call this chapter angst-light at best) but it did take a long time to get all of that on the page for me. Plus this is a longer chapter as you guys can tell and I wanted to find the perfect smuffy ending to ease away any lingering anxieties from the first part of the chapter. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and I truly hope you guys enjoy. I’m not sure when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully faster than this one was!

It Started with a Fire, as a Lot of Things Do

March 8, 2017

Number one: Damp Fire

My parents were excited when they finally bought their first home that was truly theirs. Payment down and everything. It seemed so warm and cozy to raise their first child in. It even had a fireplace with brick around it and a glass door. Which was great, until they realized that chopping wood wasn’t worth the trouble for a tiny fire that smelled faintly of mold, because they would leave the firewood outside too long. So they raised my brother in a gas heated home and were perfectly cozy all the same. Occasionally they lit a fire that was much too small and smelled too much like old people and rain. My parents’ home life began with a fire.

Number Two: Bloody Finger Fire

My mother was in the hospital with me, her second child. When I was being born, my father was across the street in an empty lot. He didn’t know his wife was screaming in pain when he rolled a cheap, plastic lighter between his fingers. The metal wheel with teeth was supposed to spark and ignite. However, when he tried to spin the wheel, his thumb got caught between the teeth and the plastic edge. He winced and dropped the small flame, blood pooling on his thumb and blades of grass beginning to smoke. My father licked at his thumb and stamped out the small fire, leaving the bloody lighter on the ground to go back inside the hospital. He then discovered that his second child had come into the world. My life began with a fire.

Number Three: Sink Fire

My brother was baking cupcakes for the family. He really did try to do something nice. My parents napped on the couch in a separate room. They were exhausted, they had three children now, and a new home. My brother knew how to make cupcakes, he was old enough to read a recipe and follow directions. However, there is no recipe for common sense. He took the cupcakes out of the dry, hot oven with a long, thin dishtowel. It caught fire. My parents told me they woke up from their nap, groggy and confused. My dad turned to my mom and asked if my brother had said fire. My mother’s eyes widened and she jumped off the couch, heart in her throat. She heard the water running and saw an eleven-year-old with wide eyes staring at a smoky dish towel under running water. The problem was we had a white, fiberglass sink. We saw scorch marks when we did dishes for years afterwards. My brother’s teen years started with a fire.

Number Four: Hot Chocolate Fire

I was home alone, or at least downstairs alone. I can’t really remember which one it was now. What happened next is what I remember. I really liked hot chocolate. It was my absolute favorite. My aunt was--and still is--very much into organic and healthy food, mostly because she has allergies she has to watch out for. My cousin was picky, and anything he didn’t think was great, he didn’t eat or drink. Long story short, I received a pack of organic chocolate milk in individual boxes. In my mind, it was a great idea to put it in the microwave and make hot chocolate. Now, If you are worried about the plastic melting or catching on fire, don’t be. Because the box was insulated with some kind of metal. I microwaved an aluminum covered box. The plastic didn’t just melt or catch a small flame, I created fireworks. Sparks flew, a fire erupted, and the microwave died. This would not be the only fire I started by trying to make a hot drink. My first memory began with a fire.

Number Five: Cat Fire

We had neighbors whose son had joined the marines. They finally had the time to vacation, so they did. Over the summer, they asked me to cat sit. They gave me a garage door opener to get in. Really, I just went over, fed him, gave him water, cleaned his litter, and sat on the couch to pet him while I watched TV. After that, I would go home and come back the next day for a few hours. On the last day I went over, I did all my normal chores. I said goodbye to the cat and left out the back door. Only this time, when I pressed the button on the garage door opener, the garage erupted into sparks and a fire caught in their garage. I ran inside to try and free the cat. When he wouldn’t leave, I said screw it and ran the thirty seconds back to my own house. I told my parents and they sprinted down the street. My close neighbors would later tell me they knew something was seriously wrong because my mother was running at an exercise pace in six inch heels and a pencil skirt. Turned out the wire was already exposed. No real damage was done and they invited me to cat sit again a few weeks later. I said no. My teenage years began with a fire.

Number Six: Tea Fire

My freshman year of high school, I marched in the Christmas parade. It was the first year I did so, and it was absolutely freezing. I wore three shirts and two pairs of pants. After an hour in freezing weather, I walked home. My entire family had gone out to lunch. It was just me, my blue hands, and a desire for a hot drink. I had recently discovered a love for tea, fostered by my English grandmother. It replaced my obsession with hot chocolate. This would be my second drink fire. I had a very old water heater. It could only handle one cup at a time. I poured one cup of hot water into the top, pushed the button, and smoke wisped out within seconds. Apparently, I have a skill for finding unsafe wiring. There was a hole in the bottom of the water container and it hit my second set of exposed wires. It caused a small fire. After making sure the fire was out, I unplugged the water heater and threw it in the garbage. I still have the same exact make and model of that water heater, because I’m an idiot. My high school years started with a fire.

Number Seven: Journal Fire

In my first year of high school, I met a girl who convinced me that doing what you wanted in life was a smart decision. I made a long journey of deciding I was going to go to college for writing, something I actually liked doing. I also grew a fascination for candles. I don’t know why I hadn’t learned my lesson, seeing as fire just happens to follow my family. I was writing in my room, in one of my first journals. I had a candle that smelled like apple-cinnamon or something close. A loose page from my journal fell dangerously close to the candle and caught fire. I panicked and threw the page in an empty, plastic trash can. My room smelled like burning playtoys for weeks, rather than the cinnamon-whatever. Everytime I re-read old journals, I see the small black marks on the cover of my oldest one. My writing career began with a fire.

Number Eight: Highway Fire

My brother was home from college for Easter. He had eaten, socialized, and charmed enough from the family that it was time for him to head back. He left after many hugs and drove back to Knoxville. We didn’t know until many hours later, that a trailer had burst into flames in front of him. He watched and pulled over as well when the trailer pulled onto the shoulder and people jumped out. He asked if anyone was hurt. They weren’t. Apparently, this fire did not phase my brother, as he took a picture with the nine foot flames and posted it on Instagram. That was the way we found out he made it home. My brother’s college career began with a fire.

Number Nine: Engine Fire

My sister and I recently got our licenses. We got them on the exact same day, despite the fact that I’m a year and a half older. I may have been a little late to take the test. When we finally did, my dad showed us the basic mechanics of a car. However, when he tried to show us how to perform a simple jump start, we managed to screw it up. I still don’t know how it happened. My sister connected one cable, I connected another. Thank the Lord who protects fire-prone idiots for the rubber insulation of jumper cable handles. Sparks flew and three screams echoed around the garage. My dad ripped off cables and stamped out a small fire on a shop apron. We did not work on the car with my father again. The series of curses my father let loose in front of his daughters began with a fire.

Number Ten: Accidental Self-Destruction

The heat broke in our house this winter. It was freezing. The whole family gathered in the living room, where the fireplace is. We hung heavy curtains in one of the open doorways and kept the doors closed in the other. This allowed us to turn on the fireplace for a couple minutes and keep the room warm for hours. One day my family was gone, it was just me home alone with the family fire tendency. I think I have a circulation problem, honestly. I’m always cold and that causes half the problems. I turned on the fireplace with the curtains and doors closed. I sat down with a good book and cuddled under a fuzzy blanket. To this day, I can’t tell you how long I sat like that. I lost track of time. See, here’s the thing. We have a gas fireplace. It produces a lot of carbon monoxide when there’s no circulation. We have a monitor for it. I promise we do. But after just a little while, I started to get really sleepy. I even laid down for a couple seconds before I gasped in horror when remembering carbon monoxide gas poisoning kills you by first putting you to sleep. I threw the curtains open, turned off the fireplace, and opened every single window in the house. I sat on the porch in the middle of February just so I could get some actual oxygen. I forgot our carbon monoxide monitor was broken. I don’t even think we got a new one. I’m almost one hundred percent certain it still doesn’t work. I prayed the house would air out quickly and closed the windows after half an hour. I did not explain to my family why the house was so cold. I never told them how stupid I was. The first time I almost accidentally killed myself by being an idiot began with a fire.