My School Prince President - Ten Minutes Ago Music from Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997)

My brain attacked me this morning yesterday (uploading this was an odyssey 🙈) with the revelation that the music in the dancing scene gives me similar vibes as this song and I kept wondering what would happen if the two were put together.

Shockingly, this is how I ended up spending the rest of the day listening to the movie soundtrack and editing this into a thing lol The deed is done now, I may finally rest 😌

whatcha say we just get away?

word count: 6.5k

warnings: explicit fem!reader, marriage, cursing, fleeting mention of future children, some kinda cheesy wedding tropes

recommended listening: side effects | jade bird

a/n: the idea of a big wedding scares the living daylights out of me so i wrote about eloping with tk :))

When Travis asks you to marry him, you think he’s joking.

The two of you are standing in the kitchen piecing together lunch. It’s a sunny Tuesday in Port Stanley, and Travis wants to take you out on the boat this afternoon. 

“What if we got married?” he says casually, putting the finishing touches on his sandwich. 

You shrug it off and continue chopping vegetables. “You’re hilarious. Got an upcoming audition with SNL?”

Travis doesn’t seem to like your response. He bumps your shoulder gently. “I’m serious.” 

“This isn’t a joke?” you ask, setting down the knife and turning to face him. “You want to marry me?”

He nods and rests his hands on your hips. “I’m absolutely positive. Will you marry me?”

No words come from your open mouth. Not wanting him to think you’re saying no, you nod your head vigorously. Travis’s laugh echoes off the small kitchen, bringing you back to earth slightly. His right thumb rubs comforting circles on your hip bone. Overcome with love for Travis, you curl your arms around his neck and pull him down to meet your lips. 

The kiss is passionate but incredibly soft. You both hold so much love for each other and do your best to convey it in the small gesture. Time passes you by, but you don’t mind. If you could kiss Travis forever you would. Eventually he pulls away for air but doesn’t let you go. Resting his forehead on yours he asks another question. “Is that a yes?”

You find your voice. “Of course you idiot!”

His smile lights up his entire face and it makes him look much too young to be betrothed. You suppose he is, that you both are – under twenty-five with your whole lives in front of you. However, you know that Travis is it for you. No one compliments you like he does, and no one ever will. Travis loves you wholly and without hesitation, and you hope he can see you feel the exact same way. 

“Fuck,” Travis groans, and it makes you arch your brow. “I don’t have a ring,” he explains. “I didn’t think I’d get the balls to suggest it or that you would say yes.”

A laugh bubbles over your lips as you shake your head. “I could care less baby,” you insist. “We don’t need rings to show how much we love each other.”

The two of you stand in the kitchen a while longer, kissing languidly and basking in the deeper level of love that comes with devoting your lives to one another. Lunch is long forgotten as you get ready for your afternoon adventure, but you remember to grab it on your way out the door. The drive to the water is almost identical to every single other time, spent singing along to the radio and laughing at the terrible impressions Travis tries to orchestrate, except this time your smiles are brighter and the sideways glances are sweeter. 

For being a beautiful day in a community of mostly retired people, the waters of Lake Erie are scarcely populated. The two of you essentially have the kilometres of coastline to yourselves, which feels like a sign from the universe to enjoy the newest honeymoon phase of your relationship. It’s so nice to spend an abundance of time with Travis in the summers, and it almost makes up for all the time you spend alone throughout the winter months. You let him navigate the boat wherever he wants, laying across one of the plush leather benches with your eyes closed. Occasionally, when Travis hits a wave a little too head on, water sprays gently over your face but you don’t mind. Truthfully, it offers a short respite from the heat of the sun’s rays. 

While you lounge your mind begins to wander to what your wedding will look like. Large crowds have always made you uneasy – you aren’t like Travis in that regard, able to feel comfortable in whatever environment you may be placed in. The idea of a small wedding is nice, but the two of you know too many people and pointedly not inviting a large number of them fills you with anxiety. Feelings would get hurt, people upset they can’t fight for a minute of your big day, and you’ve heard horror stories about wedding guest lists ending friendships. You also know your mother will want to have input in almost every decision, from bridesmaids dresses to cake flavours, and that’s not something you’re sure you can handle. Suddenly marrying Travis is a lot scarier a concept.

You realize that these are ridiculous thoughts to be having. You got engaged less than three hours ago – there’s no reason for you to immediately start planning the event. For Christ’s sake, you don’t even have a ring yet. Regardless, your mind replays your fears on a constant loop. All you can do to quell the storm in your mind is sit and focus on the taut muscles of Travis’s shoulder blades.

“Now that we’re engaged you’re just going to ignore me?” Travis jokes, dropping the anchor and making his way over to you. He had pulled into a small bay, mostly out of view from the public and hard to find, so the two of you could swim and enjoy each other’s company in peace. 

You shoot him a pointed look, and he immediately understands there’s something lying beneath the surface.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s stupid to be stressing over thing so soon, but you can’t stop. You wonder if you’re even going to be able to go through with the wedding seeing you’re already so worked up about it. Travis kneels in front of you, hand on your knee as his eyes meet yours through two pairs of sunglasses. “No judgement here sweetheart. Say whatever’s on your mind.”

You know he’s being sincere. There’s never any judgement from Travis. No matter how dumb a statement or how terrible a fashion choice he never thinks any less of you. “I was just thinking, well overthinking, about the wedding,” you mumble. “And I know it’s stupid because we have nothing planned and don’t have rings but I can’t stop myself from stressing over it. I legitimately don’t know if I can plan a wedding.”

“That’s quite possibly the farthest thing from stupid,” he insists. “It’s a valid thing to be worried about. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to take the heat for not doing things the way others think they should be done. But we have so much time to figure everything out.” Travis pushes himself off the ground and slides into the seat beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and places a peck to the crown of your head. 

“I think that’s part of the issue Trav. We won’t get married until next summer, which is fine, but I’m going to have so much time to overthink every single decision.”

Travis doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he grasps your left hand in his and raises it to his lips. The kiss he presses to your ring finger, where the engagement ring would be if you had one, sends shivers down your spine. It’s a simple gesture, sweet and to the point, but it grounds you. No matter what happens, the two of you will face it together hand in hand. 

The water is cold when you eventually get in, but it’s refreshing and allows you to relax. You do more floating than serious swimming, watching as Travis swims laps around the small area you’ve claimed as your own. “Can’t even take a break from training now that we’re engaged?” you ask, throwing him the same jab he gave hours ago. 

“Gotta stay fit for the big day,” he pants, obviously tired from trying to up his endurance level. “Holy fuck, I’ve swam nearly three kilometres since we got in.”

You’re wickedly impressed and have half a mind to challenge him to keep going, to see how far he can go, but you can tell his energy is fading. Pretty soon he’ll be ready to fall asleep and you can’t drive the boat. Not wanting to be stuck on the lake overnight, you speak. “Let’s get you home there cowboy. I’ll drive once you park this damn boat.”

The rest of the night is quiet. Once back on dry land, you take control of the reins, jumping into the driver’s seat before Travis can protest. You stop to pick up dinner from a small pizzeria on the main street before continuing to the modest cottage you call home in the summer months. It’s all Travis can do to keep his eyes open on the ride home, and as soon as he finishes his pizza he’s asleep on the couch, head resting heavy in your lap. 

You card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at the scalp as you read your book. While you were in school you didn’t have much time to read for pleasure, so since graduating you’ve been trying to catch up. You graduated nearly two years ago and still haven’t made it through your to be read shelf, but it isn’t for lack of trying. It seems that new books constantly find a home there and the three books a months you average isn’t cutting it. Maybe one day when you retire you’ll be able to make a serious dent. 

It’s silent while Travis sleeps, but you find it comforting. There’s nothing to distract you from the fictional world playing out on the pages, and you lose the anxieties you’ve felt simmering since thinking about your very distant wedding. When Travis wakes up an hour later you’ve finished your book and are staring at the ceiling. 

“You could have gotten up to grab another,” Travis murmurs, voice laced with sleep. 

You shrug. “Didn’t want to wake you. Plus I just wanted to think about some things, how I want to tackle the next year.”

Travis frowns, and you can tell he’s regretting asking the question because you’re so obviously worked up. 

“I know what you’re thinking, babe,” you say to comfort him. “And you’re wrong. There’s nothing I want more in the world than to marry you. I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to do things without pissing off half the people we want to invite.”

You slowly peel away from him, holding out a hand and smiling when he takes it. The two of you retire to your bedroom, and get ready in silence. You know Travis is still mulling things over, and quite honestly, you are too. Preparing to get married, no matter how far away the day might be, is a lot. After brushing your teeth and washing your face you settle into Travis’s open arms, tracing over the tattoos that call his bicep home. Travis unwinds in his own way, twirling a lock of your hair around his index finger. 

“What if we eloped?”

This question is as sudden as when he asked you to marry him in the first place. Your hand halts its actions immediately, moving to his chest so you can push yourself up to look at him. “You’re serious?”

He nods enthusiastically, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Dead serious. I know you’ve never wanted a big wedding,” he says. That much is true. You’ve never enjoyed being the center of attention, and the idea of more than twenty people watching your every move has you freaking out. “You’re so stressed already about pleasing everyone that I’m worried you won’t be able to enjoy it when the day actually comes. And to be quite frank, I could give less of a shit about the ceremony or reception. All I want to do is marry you because I love you. So let’s get rid of the things we think we have to do and just do it our own way.”

A single tear slides down your cheek. You can’t help it – you’re so relieved he’s willing to do whatever would make you the most comfortable, even if it means sacrificing something as important as a proper wedding. “That would be perfect.” 

Travis kisses you for what might be the millionth time today but you do not care. His lips are soft against yours and make you feel safe and warm. Nothing goes too far as you’re both just enjoying the thought of such a special moment being between just the two of you.

“I was also thinking we could do it this week,” he says casually, as if no work has to go into this because you’re eloping.

You sit up immediately. “Pardon?” you ask shocked. “Trav, just because we aren’t going to have a wedding doesn’t mean we can just do it whenever we please. We need to get a marriage license and make an appointment at the courthouse.”

“It’s the middle of summer and we live in an area where the youngest people other than us are like fifty, I think things will come together pretty quickly.” 

It’s hard for you to argue with his logic. Travis has a point – the chances of other people trying to get married in the next few days is very slim. The idea doesn’t sound horrible either, getting to marry the love of your life as soon as possible. You agree to look into things in the morning and fall asleep curled into Travis’s chest, his arms secure around you.

Wanting to get married within the week turns out not to be a problem. After Travis completes his morning workout the two of you travel the short distance to the courthouse to get a marriage license. It’s incredibly easy, each of you only needing to provide two pieces of identification, and while you’re there you pick a time slot for your civil service. You’ll be back at the building in two days, next time walking out as a married couple. 

“See, it was so easy,” Travis says, bumping your hip with his own on the way back to the truck. 

“Fuck off,” you grumble. No matter how hard you try you can’t find it within yourself to be mad at him. You’re incredibly excited, and are actually glad you don’t have to wait very long. It would have been a pain to wait a whole twelve months. 

The next order of business in ‘planning’ your wedding is finding two witnesses. You would have had no problem asking Travis’s parents, but they’re currently on a vacation to the east coast. The idea of phoning your mother and asking her to book a flight to attend a wedding she didn’t get a say in makes you nauseous, so it’s completely out of the question. Port Stanley might be small, but you and Travis are only there a few months out of the year and don’t know anyone besides your next door neighbours. Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson are an adorable eldery couple you invite over for dinner every week. 

Travis agrees that you should include them, and as soon as you get home the two of you are knocking on their door, pitcher of lemonade in hand. 

“Oh hello dears,” Mrs. Stevenson coos. “This is such a nice surprise. Richard is out on the back patio, come join us.”

You smile at the older lady and follow her through the modest cottage. The walls are covered in photos from family trips and graduations – you hope one day you and Travis’s will look the same. Once in the backyard the four of you settle into comfortable conversation, sipping lemonade and enjoying the sunshine. Ever the hockey fan, Mr. Stevenson asks Travis about the upcoming season, and they chat while you rise to help bring snacks to the small table. 

After a while, the conversations lull and Travis is able to bring up what you came over for. “Do you guys have any plans for Friday morning?” he asks casually, popping a slice of red pepper into his mouth. 

“Not that I can think of,” Mr. Stevenson says. “Can you think of anything Dottie?”

His wife shakes her head. “Nothing comes to mind. What’s the matter?”

Suddenly you’re nervous, and entwine your fingers with Travis’s to ground yourself. He squeezes gently, a gesture of encouragement that has you able to find your voice. “We were wondering if you could do us a favour,” you begin, “And be the witnesses at our wedding? We have an appointment at the courthouse at eleven-thirty.”

It’s silent, and you’re petrified they’re going to say no. You turn to look at Travis, who looks just as apprehensive as you. His grip on your hand tightens and all you can do is wait for a response. 

“We would be honoured,” they exclaim at the same time, and you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. It’s settled – you have all the components for the paperwork, which means you can legitimately and legally get married. You’re absolutely giddy. 

The questions come then – when did Travis ask you, how are you going to tell your families, what does your ring look like – and when you quietly say that you don’t have one Mrs. Stevenson jumps out of her seat. 

“Oh child, that simply won’t do!”

You’re quick to your own defence. “It’s truly fine Mrs. Stevenson –”

“You can just call me Dottie dear.”

“Dottie,” you say, her first name rolling uncomfortably off your tongue. It will definitely take some getting used to. “I told Trav I didn’t need a ring. Being married to him is enough.” You smile in his direction and Travis returns the look with ease. 

Not caring, the elderly lady heads into the small cottage, saying she has something that would work perfectly. Mr. Stevenson rolls his eyes and apologizes for his wife’s antics, but you insist it’s okay. She returns a minute later with quite possibly the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen. Attached to a thin gold band is a deep green emerald. The stone isn’t obnoxiously large, possibly even on the smaller side, and is completely your style. No other gems accompany it, letting the emerald take center stage. 

“Wow,” you breathe. “It’s stunning.” 

Travis leans over your shoulder to get a look and lets out a short whistle. “Totally you babe,” he chimes in.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mr. Steveson shouts in encouragement. “Put it on her young man!”

You let loose a laugh, and soon the others join in. Travis takes it at Dottie’s insistence and places it gingerly on your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you can’t help but let a few tears escape. Your eyes meet Travis’s and you see he’s trying to hold back tears, but is failing miserably. Overcome with emotion, you lean forward and press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet, but still all-consuming. Travis’s hands reach up to cup your face, continuing the exchange for probably longer than appropriate in public. The Stevensons coo gently in the background, having a conversation between themselves about how adorable you both are. You don’t hear them though, too wrapped up in Travis and the fact that everything feels like it has fallen into place. 

After having a small argument about whether or not you can actually accept the ring, at which both Stevensons insist you should keep it, you help set the table for dinner. The meal is quite enjoyable, and you clean up despite the protests from Dottie. Once everything is squared away you and Travis go to make your exit. You hadn’t meant to intrude on their night, but you’re glad you did. On your way out the door, Mr. Stevenson, who followed his wife in demanding you call him by his first name, slips a small bag into Travis’s hand. 

“Found these in our jewelry box. I think you might want them,” he winks, smiling softly before shooing you off with a loving tone with a promise to see you on Friday. 

Peaking inside the bag once inside the safety of your own home, you pull out two delicate gold bands, one that looks about your size and one that matches Travis’s. It’s clear they’re meant to be your wedding bands, and you’re once again overcome with emotion. What did you do to deserve such kind neighbours?

Your night, and the day that follows are quiet. For the most part you go about your normal routine, puttering around while waiting for Travis to finish his workout and a meeting he has with the Flyers front office. He packs a lunch while you answer a call from your boss, who has a question about when you’ll be returning to Philadelphia. She chats with you for a while, catching up on all your summer adventures. You make sure to conceal your enagement, not wanting all of Philly to fin out before your families. Though you love your boss, she’s not well known for keeping secrets. Once all your affairs are finished, the two of you lock the front door and head to the lake. 

“Where you taking me today cowboy?” you giggle as Travis steers the boat out of the marina. 

He tips his hat at the nickname and speaks slowly, trying to mimic a southern accent a la John Wayne. “Gotta keep it a surprise darlin’,” he drawls. A laugh punctuates his sentence, and Travis can’t keep the charade up any longer. “I actually don’t have a destination. Thought we could just cruise around.”

It’s a good enough plan for you, and you sit close by while the pair of you travel the coast. The sun glistens off the top of the calm water while you float and your eyes grow heavy for the warmth. You indulge them, allowing them to flutter shut. 

“You’re literally the worst company ever,” Travis grumbles as soon as he notices your resting figure. 

Not bothering to open your eyes you shoot him the finger. “Fuck off, you’re the one who wants to marry me.”

“Damn straight.”

Despite being ‘terrible company’, Travis doesn’t try too hard to get away from you. Eventually he anchors the boat in a small cove and the pair of you spend a few hours swimming and soaking up the sun’s rays. Just existing like this, with Travis, is enough to calm any nerves you might have about tomorrow. Though it will be a low-key affair and no one will be in attendance, getting married is a huge deal. You would be more alarmed if you didn’t have any anxieties. 

It’s dusk when you secure the boat in its slip and hop in the truck to return home. The wind coming off the water sends shivers down your spine, though you do your best to hide it. Travis notices, however, and slips the hoodie he was sporting over shoulders. 

“Thanks,” you murmur appreciatively. He doesn’t respond, just shoots you a wide grin. 

The many hours spent in the sun have tired you out, and as soon as you’re inside you bolt towards the bed. You don’t even bother to change before slipping under the covers. When Travis appears in the room a few minutes later, he laughs at the sight of you with the duvet pulled up to your chin. 

He lies directly on top of you, and you shift slightly to accommodate the added weight. The room is silent save for your breathing, and it’s peaceful. You’re looking forward to spending the rest of your life like this. 

“We have to go brush our teeth,” Travis murmurs into the crook of your neck, punctuating his words with sweet kisses.

The noise that leaves your throat is one of strangled protest. “But I’m really comfy,” you groan. “Besides I can’t get up with you on top of me.”

“Touché.” He slowly separates his form from yours and extends a hand to help you up. “You still have to get up. I don’t want to marry someone with bad breath.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, but grab his hand and allow him to drag you to the bathroom. What unfolds next is straight out of Bring It On. The two of you brush your teeth in silence, occasionally making faces at each other in the mirror. Travis grins at you, mouth full of toothpaste, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Stop laughing!” he shouts after spitting into the sink. Nimble fingers find your sides, and before you can process what’s happening he’s digging them into you. 

In an attempt to squirm out of his grasp and run away, you miss the sink rather ungracefully. Toothpaste dots the bathroom counter, but it’s the least of your worries. It will take two seconds to clean up once Travis isn’t hellbent on tickling you to death. You break free of his hold and dart down the hall away from him. 

Travis rolls his eyes before grabbing a cloth to wipe away the remains of your desperate getway. When he enters the bedroom again you’re grabbing a faded 67’s tshirt to pull over head. He waits until you’re finished before wrapping his arms around your middle, no intentions of acting childish this time. You lean into his touch and he rests his chin comfortably on your shoulder. The two of you stand there for a while, swaying gently and thinking about the morning. Eventually Travis breaks away, leaving you to finish getting ready for bed, but not before placing a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to be married by lunchtime tomorrow,” you sigh as Travis climbs into bed beside you and flicks off the lamp on his bedside table. 

“It’s fucking insane, eh?”

Your lips turn into a smile, because it is in fact insane. Two days ago you were content just being with Travis and now in less than fourteen hours you’ll be his wife. Although the change is sudden, it feels right – to no other person would you want to get married. Travis is it. 

He shuffles closer to close the gap between you. His hand travels to your hair, twirling it around his finger, and you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes flutter shut but you make no attempt to keep them open. A long night of rest will be useful in helping to quell your nerves in the morning. 

“Sweet dreams Trav,” you mumble into the darkness. 

You swear you can hear the smile in his voice when he responds, “Night sweetheart.”

When you awake the next morning Travis’s arms are still tightly wrapped around you. You had assumed he’d be up earlier than normal, making sure to get a good run in before returning to get ready. Instead, his head is buried in your hair and he’s snoring softly. A quick glance at your alarm clock tells you it’s time to get up unless you want to run the risk of running late to your own wedding.

“Trav,” you whisper softly, rolling over in his grasp. “We’ve gotta get up.” When you don’t get a response, you lightly trace the outline of his nose and speak a little louder. “Babe, we’re going to be late if we don’t get our asses in gear.”

Travis shoots up at the mention of your wedding, clearly excited. “Good morning soon-to-be Mrs. Konecny,” he says before making a disgusted face. “Forget I ever said that. Totally not our style.”

You can’t help but giggle and agree. Cheesy gestures of affection have never really been your thing, and it feels strange to try it out now. You peck Travis’s cheek quickly before pushing off the covers and heading to the bathroom. After grabbing a towel from the small linen rack in the corner you turn the water on and undress. Travis walks by the open door and whistles, so you laugh and flip him off before letting yourself be enveloped by the water.

The steam helps to relieve the tension in your shoulders you didn’t know was there. You suppose it’s just natural for you to be slightly anxious – even though practically nothing can go wrong a thousand what-ifs float around your mind. Going about your typical shower routine helps calm you down and take your mind off things, and when you step out of the bathroom most of your nerves have been replaced with sheer excitement. 

Not wanting to get into the white sundress you decided to wear until you’re practically out the door, you slip into lounge clothes and go to join Travis in the kitchen. He’s munching away on a bowl of cereal but slides a cup of coffee across the counter for you. It’s made just the way you like it, of course, and you offer a quick thanks. When you move around to the other side of the island to make a bagel, you bump your hip against his. It’s quiet in the room, both of you in your heads as you picture what it will be like to say ‘I do’, but it’s nice. You eat in silence, and then it’s Travis’s turn to shower while you clean up the few dishes that were dirtied during breakfast. 

After everything is squared away you go to finish getting ready. It’s warm, over twenty-five degrees, so you decide to pull your hair into a simple updo to keep it out of your face. Though no one will be there to judge you, you still want to look the tiniest bit put together. Your makeup consists of sunscreen and lip balm, knowing that Travis wants to spend the afternoon on the water. Besides, it’s so hot you’d be uncomfortable in anything else. With nothing to do but sit and wait for Travis to be ready, you turn your attention to the ring on your left hand, soon to be accompanied by another. 

The emerald glistens as you twist the ring from side to side and you make a mental note to once again thank Mrs. Stevenson for giving it to you. Your thoughts are disrupted by Travis asking you a question. 

“Are you going to kill me if I wear shorts?”

“As long as they aren’t track shorts you’re fine,” you shrug. “It’s fucking hot out.”

He arches his brow. “So I can wear the camo ones?”

“If you really want to Trav.”

Travis does not, in fact, wear the camo ones, but a respectable khaki pair. He also rolls the sleeves of his button down up to try and combat the heat. It’s a good look, and you make sure to tell him so. The compliments return ten-fold and you can’t help but blush. Even after so many years together Travis still knows how to give you butterflies. 

“Zip me up?” you ask, spinning around so your back is to him. 

He nods and carefully tugs the zipper along your spine to secure the fabric. Once finished, Tavis rests his hands on your hips and turns you to face him. He rests his forehead against yours and looks at you with the most love filled expression you’ve ever seen. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

You smile and press closer to him, mumbling against his lips. “I love you too.”

The kiss you share is soft and warm. Like so many others you’ve shared, it makes you feel whole. Kissing Travis is the one time you feel like you’re right where you’re supposed to be. Time seems to slow down, and truthfully you don’t know how long you spend kissing Travis in the middle of your bedroom. It’s long enough that you have to rush out the door, almost forgetting the rings in the shuffle. 

Even though you insisted you had no problem driving the four of you to the courthouse, the Stevensons insist on taking their own vehicle. “We having some shopping to do,” Mr. Stevenson explains, “And you won’t want to hang two old folks just after getting married! It’s the time to be young and in love.”

You can’t convince them to join you in Travis’s truck no matter how hard you try. The two of you eventually let them have their way and wave as you back out of the driveway with them to follow you shortly. The drive is quiet, like so many other moments this morning, and the closer the clock gets to your appointment time, the antsier you get. You just want to get it over with and finally be married to Travis. 

“Babe, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floorboard from bouncing your foot so much,” Travis laughs. His hand leaves the steering wheel to rest just above your knee, effectively stopping your movement. 

“Just excited,” you say honestly. “And nervous.”

Travis’s thumb rubs comforting circles on your bare skin as he speaks. “Me too. But I know that no matter what everything will be perfect because I love you and you love me and that’s all that matters.”

Before you know it you’re pulling into a parking spot and waiting for your witnesses to arrive. They must have got caught at a red light because they join you a few minutes later. There’s still a bit of time until you’re set to face the judge, but the four of you head inside anyways. Your fingers are laced tightly with Travis’s and you practically cling to him but no one says anything. After alerting reception to your presence you pace the hallway outside the courtroom. 

Nothing about this is traditional, but Dottie still ushers you away from your husband-to-be in order to give you a little pep talk. As you’re being ushered around the corner you see Mr. Stevenson doing something similar with Travis. 

“Don’t worry about him dear, Richard will make sure he doesn’t flee. Though I know he’d never think about it,” she says. “He’s good for you, and you’re good for him.”

You smile at her statement. The two of you really are meant for each other. Dottie talks a bit more, hyping you up and giving you some advice for married life. You rejoin the boys just before the group is called. 

“The Konecnys? Judge Holloway is ready for you.” 

Butterflies flutter in your stomach upon hearing the name that will be yours in a matter of minutes. You all follow the official into the chamber and wait for further instruction. 

“I do believe congratulations are in order,” the judge says. Applause comes from the Stevensons, and you press your face into Travis’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m Judge Holloway, and I’ll be performing the ceremony today. Before we get started, are there any objections?”

Both you and Travis shake your head. “No,” you enunciate in unison. 

“Perfect. I just need the marriage license and then we’ll be good to go.”

Travis hands the official document over, and the judge does some preliminary signing to make the aftermath a bit easier. While you wait you can’t stop smiling at Travis – not that you’d rather be doing anything else. Since this is a justice of the peace ceremony no religious elements are included, which you’re thankful for. Neither you nor Travis had time to write your own vows but had agreed to share them privately at a later date. Everything happening in the present was strictly legal and made the process quite speedy. 

“Alright, now that the technicalities are out of the way we can get to the fun stuff.”

The comment makes you laugh. Though hearing the legalities of marriage was slightly mind-numbing, you’d call everything that’s happened so far fun. Perhaps that’s only because you’re the one getting married. 

“Y/N,” the judge says. “Do you accept Travis as your lawfully wedded spouse?”

“I do.” You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life.

Then it’s Travis’s turn, and he’s spitting the words out before the officiant can finish the sentence. “I do.”

Laughter bounces off the walls at his eagerness. You shake your head and remember to tease him about it later. He just shoots you a wink.

Judge Holloway looks into your small crowd. “I imagine one of you has the rings?”

Travis fishes around in his pocket and pulls out the drawstring back they’re being held in. The judge nods in approval. “Place the ring on the third finger of your partner’s left hand and repeat after me. This ring signifies my devotion to you, and shall serve as a reminder that I will cherish you forever.”

Both of you repeat the words, and both tear up when placing the rings. They flow freely down your cheeks, and Travis wipes them away with his thumb. 

“I think I know what comes next,” he whispers to you. 

Taking the opportunity to tease him a little bit, you nudge his shoulder. “Oh yeah? Think you’ve had enough practice?”

“Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

You turn your attention back to the judge, who speaks once again. “By the power vested in me by the Marriage Act, I do hereby pronounce Travis and Y/N to be married.” 

Once again, applause rings out, and you can’t help but giggle against Travis’s lips as he pulls you in for a kiss to ‘seal the deal’. It’s earth-shattering, your first kiss as husband and wife, and you can’t help but deepen it by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. When you break apart neither of you can stop smiling. 

Your party signs along the dotted line of the marriage certificate and you accept the well wishes of the judge before exiting the room. In the hallway the Stevensons envelope you both in a giant hug. “Thank you both for being here,” you say, voice watery. You haven’t stopped crying since you got to sign your last name as Konecny for the first time. 

“We’re incredibly honoured you chose us,” Dottie exclaims, grasping your hands to let you know just how much it meant to her. Her husband nods in agreeance, and you say your goodbyes, promising to have them over for dinner in a few days. You watch their figures retreat out the courthouse doors, and then you’re alone with Travis. 

He looks ethereal – the post wedding glow is something you know won’t go away any time soon. Though the whole thing was quite unconventional you wouldn’t change it for the world. Something about it is so distinctly you and Travis: the spontaneity of it all, how it happened on your own accord. You know you’ll receive an earful when you call your families to let them know of the change, but you don’t care. At no time will you ever be as happy as you are now. 

Your fingers find his for possibly the hundredth time today but neither of you complain, so in love with each other you’re sure if any of his teammates were here Travis would be getting chirped into oblivion. 

“What do you say Konecny? Want to get out of here?” he asks, punctuating the end of his statement with a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

You’ve never heard him have a better suggestion. “Lead the way lover boy.”

 ❥❥❥

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

An Unlikely Reunion

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 3.6k

summary: Having been separated from Mammon for the last several months, you head to the council room to meet the new exchange student. You probably should have expected this outcome.

a/n: sorry this update took so long. my sister was in town visiting for the holidays and just recently left. here’s the third part of the human!mammon & demon!mc series :)

part one | part two

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen Mammon. You were unsure if he had even noticed your swift disappearance, given you’d only ran into each other on three separate occasions. You’d be lying to yourself if you said the entire situation hadn’t bothered you. You were practically under house arrest for the last two or three months. Had it been longer than that? You stopped counting. 

You were still expected to do your chores and duties, but you were forbidden from traveling to other realms. Not that you had an urge to pop into the Celestial Realm, but even that was off-limits now too (you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed there in the first place). In other events, Lord Diavolo had recently approved of a new exchange program that would take place within the next few days. The Devildom would be hosting two human students, as well as two angels. You found it interesting, though you knew Lucifer was more than likely against it from the start. Still, you had found the idea of it ridiculous at first; humans were allowed to visit the Devildom and yet you were still in trouble for running off to the human realm? 

Belphegor did not take the news well when it first broke. Beelzebub had to pick the demon up and carry him back to their shared room before he destroyed the entire living room. He had been screaming and shouting until the door of their room quietly clicked shut. He kept it up, too, despite Lucifer warning him to drop the act. He made sure to remind Diavolo whenever he got the chance that he’d regret this decision and that nothing good ever came from the human race. You were honestly surprised that Lucifer never punished him, and you were even more surprised when it was revealed that Belphegor would be the demon traveling to the human realm as an exchange student. If you were being honest, you didn’t believe it at first. How did Lord Diavolo and Lucifer get him to agree to such a thing? Besides the youngest born holding a deep hatred for humans, he’d never been away from his twin, Beelzebub, for too long either. 

He was gone now; he left two days ago. You were hurt when you found out he left without a goodbye, and you knew Beelzebub shared your thoughts when you caught the expression on his face when Lucifer broke the news. Other than that, not much has happened since you last saw Mammon. 

With Belphegor taking his leave early, only two days remained before the exchange program would begin. Servants and demons alike had been bustling around the Devildom to make everything ready for the new students. This was a matter of war or not, as this could potentially bring peace between the three realms. You weren’t complaining; you liked the idea of not having war constantly looming over your head. 

“I wonder what kind of human Lord Diavolo ended up selecting for the program.” Asmodeus was painting his nails from where he lounged on the couch. You were sitting on the other end, scrolling through your D.D.D while listening to your brother gossip for the last several minutes. Since Belphegor left, Asmodeus had been insistent that the two of you spend more time together. You weren’t sure why he wanted the sudden attention from you, but if you had to guess you’d say he missed his baby brother. You thought it was cute. 

But of course, hanging out with Asmodeus doesn’t come without a price. For you, it was listening to endless gossip for hours on end. “Hopefully one that doesn’t start trouble wherever they go.” 

“That would make it interesting though, don’t you think? It’d be boring if they were like Lucifer or Satan, always following the rules.” 

“Satan doesn’t always follow the rules.” You commented and glanced over at the other. “At least when it comes to Lucifer, anyway.” 

“He might egg on the human if they cause trouble. Anything to annoy Lucifer.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he thinks over the endless possibilities. “I hope they’re cute. I haven’t slept with a human in a while.”

“Gross.” 

“What? I thought you of all demons would appreciate that statement.” You quirked an eyebrow at his comment, though you opted not to say anything. Sometimes it was better to let Asmodeus think he was in the right. You looked up from your spot on the couch upon hearing someone enter the room. A smile graced your lips when seeing that it was Beelzebub. 

“Did you come to keep us company?” To say the sixth born had been lonely since Belphegor left would be an understatement. He had trouble sleeping, keeping himself invested in conversations, and he even had some trouble eating. It made your chest feel lighter to see the demon out and about instead of sulking in his room. Had he spent another day locked away in his room, you would have dragged him out. Perhaps this was for the best that he was coming out willingly. 

“I did.” Was all the redhead commented. Asmodeus sat up to give him room, the larger demon sitting between the two of you. He brought snacks with him, settling them down on the coffee table. “Feel free to have some.” You and Asmodeus exchange looks with one another. It was unlike Beelzebub to share his food with anyone other than Belphegor. He must still be feeling the effects of the younger being away. “He hasn’t answered my texts yet.” There was a frown on his lips, almost resembling a child’s pout. 

“Remember what Lucifer said? It might take a couple of days for Belphie to get settled down. Plus, I’m sure he’s going through a lot emotionally right now. I’m sure he’ll answer once he’s feeling more comfortable.” You reassuringly rubbed the side of his arm and Asmodeus nodded in agreement. 

“Belphie would never ignore you. I think he’s physically incapable of it.” Asmodeus’ comment seemed to put him more at ease, his shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“And you know he’d never approve of you locking yourself away in your room. You’re not a hermit.” You gently chided your younger brother. 

“Your name isn’t Leviathan,” Asmodeus said with a grin and you leaned over to gently swat at his knee. 

“Be nice.” You warned lightly. 

You found yourself standing in the council room with Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and the rest of your brothers excluding Belphegor. Today would be the day the exchange students were revealed. Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you were curious to see who the human would be and what they’d act like. There was a lot of secrecy surrounding the human, Lord Diavolo unwilling to spare any details, even with Lucifer. You had wondered why, but Lord Diavolo was a hard man to read. Whether it had any significant meaning or not, you didn’t know. You looked around the large room, trying to see if you could pick out an unfamiliar face. When you couldn’t, your eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. “Where--”

Before you could finish your question, a flash of bright light filled the room, nearly blinding you and your brothers in the process. Over the next couple of seconds, the light’s intensity dwindled until the light was no longer there. Slowly blinking the light from your eyes, you see a human standing in the middle of the room, their back facing you. A snicker left Satan who stood behind you. 

“Welcome to the Devildom- oh.” There was a falter in Diavolo’s speech. “It seems we caught you at a bad time.” Laughter budded within your chest when seeing that the human was only dressed in a bath towel. Did they seriously give the human no warning before summoning them to the Devildom? Talk about unlucky. 

“What the- where the hell am I?” All the color drained from your face upon hearing that all too familiar voice. Oh no. Talk about unlucky. 

“Welcome to the Devildom, Mammon.” There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he spoke. You were sure he regretted his lack of proper planning now. You were secretly glad something finally came back to bite him in the ass. Of course, having said that, this was also coming back to bite you in the ass. “You look a little disorientated, but there’s no need to worry. You’ll adjust to the Devildom soon enough.”

“Or, hear me out, maybe I look disorientated because I was just steppin’ out of the damn shower, gettin’ ready for work, and then I found myself in some strange ass room surrounded by a group of men. I don’t know about ya, but that’s not the kinda work I do.” You silently put a hand to your mouth, fighting back laughter. Oh, this was most definitely not good. Of all humans to select, of course, Lord Diavolo picked Mammon, because why wouldn’t he? He did not know who he was speaking to, and even if he had, you weren’t sure that would have changed anything. 

Glancing behind you, you could tell Satan was already keen on the human. Mammon was doing a good job of flustering Lord Diavolo, and therefore getting underneath Lucifer’s skin. Looking to your left, you could tell Asmodeus was also keen on him, though that could simply be because he was only dressed in a towel. The strangest things always seemed to excite your brother. The rest of your brothers looked amused but other than that you couldn’t get a read on them. 

“Right, well I believe an introduction is in order, don’t you think?” Of course, he gave no time for Mammon to answer. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway. “My name is Lord Diavolo and I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me. And now, you do too.” There’s a smile on his face as he greeted Mammon. Although you couldn’t see his face yourself, you doubt he’s impressed. “And someday soon, I will be crowned the King of the Devildom.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” 

“We’re currently in the council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, but we call it RAD for short,” he didn’t answer him, which was probably the smart thing to do, “this is the building where you’ll be taking all of your classes.” 

“Why am I here?” There’s an exhausted tone to Mammon’s voice. 

“I will be more than willing to explain everything to you.” Lucifer stepped in, a chilling smile on his face and Mammon instinctively took a step back. “My name is Lucifer and I’m the Avatar of Pride.” 

“He’s also the vice president of the council and my right-hand man! I’d even go as far as saying that we’re best friends.” You watched as Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at Diavolo’s interjection. “We tell each other everything.” Satan snickered again and you have a hard time keeping the grin off your face. 

“Lord Diavolo, please.” There’s an exasperated look on his face before addressing Mammon once again. 

“What the actual fuck is goin’ on?” Mammon’s rubbing at his temples in frustration. “Lucifer? Like, the devil? Oh god, I must have slipped while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my skull open or somethin’. I bet I’m bleedin’ out on my floor as we speak.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out for almost the entirety of Lucifer’s speech as he caught Mammon up with everything. You were too distracted by the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears. You were staring at Mammon’s back, with such an intensity that Asmodeus cleared his throat from beside you. You didn’t mind; you were too busy trying to think of a way out of this. What would Mammon do the moment he turns around and sees you? Would he make a scene? Call you out by name? Lucifer wanted the human you spent your time with dead; what would he do if he found out that human was Mammon? 

Your attention was quickly brought back to reality when you realized Lucifer was introducing everyone. Unfortunately for you, you had never been a great actor, and lying was not your strong suit. You watched in silent horror as Lucifer began to introduce your brothers in no particular order, before landing on you. You felt the sweat beading on your forehead as you locked eyes with Mammon from across the room. His eyes widened dramatically, and you suddenly found yourself praying that he would not make a fool of himself in front of everyone. Your mouth ran dry as you could only stare in return. You were speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Thankfully you didn’t need to, as Lucifer was speaking once again. “You can pick which one of us you’d like to watch over you during your stay here. You should feel honored, usually, we would just assign you to someone without you even getting a say in the matter. I would recommend myself or even--”

“You.” Mammon’s pointing at you before Lucifer could finish his sentence. “I want you to watch over me.” The room grew silent during the exchange between the two of you. You were sure everyone was suspicious now; why wouldn’t they be? What human is so eager to pick from a batch of demons he’s never met before? If he never met you, he wouldn’t have chosen so quickly, and he wouldn’t have cut off Lucifer to do so, and he most certainly wouldn’t have--

“Very well then.” Lord Diavolo was smiling as he looked over the room. “Mammon, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in good hands. An excellent pick of a demon, second only to Lucifer. While they can stir up a bit of trouble from time to time, I think you’ll find yourself relatively safe by their side for the most part.” Relatively safe? And for the most part? Gee, thanks, you think to yourself with narrowed eyes. 

As soon as Lord Diavolo called the meeting to a close, you darted out of there with Mammon. He struggled to keep up with your pace, though he managed for the most part. Most of the brothers assumed your odd behavior was simply because you didn’t want to bother looking out for a human and you were secretly glad that’s what they thought. “You need to be more careful when speaking to Lord Diavolo.” You said as the two of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon was stomping around in only a towel. It was almost comical if you weren’t so terrified of the outcome of the exchange program. “Lucifer will wring your neck if you disrespect him.” Mammon only huffed in response. 

“Ya have some explainin’ to do, demon.” 

“I know.” A sigh left you as your head started to throb from the conversation that had yet to begin. 

“Like why ya just upped and disappeared and shit, then I turn around and find ya in some weird shady place.” 

“The council room is hardly a shady place.” 

“Are ya bein’ for real?” He gave you an unconvinced look. “Although I guess now it makes sense how you were able to scare those thugs off. Some demonic shit or somethin’.” 

“You have to stop swearing so much. Lucifer will get annoyed.” You ran a hand over your face to smoothen out your features. Oh, this would be a long, long year. 

“Lucifer this, Lucifer that. Is all ya ever think about Lucifer?”

“The man who can and will rip my head off for misbehaving? Yes. And I’m already on thin ice with him. He got super pissed when he found out I snuck off to the human realm again. I’m surprised I’m not wearing a house arrest bracelet right now.” You make a point of keeping Mammon by your side, lest he wanders off and gets eaten by a demon. 

“So that’s the reason ya didn’t come back?” You glanced back at him, confused as to why he was asking.

“Yeah. I wasn’t allowed to. He even went as far as going to Lord Diavolo to make sure I don’t travel anywhere.” You didn’t feel too comfortable airing out all your problems with Lucifer to Mammon. Call yourself crazy, but he didn’t exactly give you vibes that he was great with secrets. Lucifer finding out you were unhappy with him through a human? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a fun day for any of you. 

“I still think I’m dreamin’ this all up. That, or I really did fall while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my head wide open.” 

“I can assure you that you are neither dreaming nor bleeding out in your shitty apartment bathroom.” There was a grin on your lips as you spoke. “Now, walk faster. We need to get back to my house before a demon sweeps you up and runs away. You’re literally parading around in a towel; you might as well be serving yourself on a silver platter.”

“It’s not like it was in my control.” 

“Still, we should hurry. Your soul is practically glowing.” 

“Ya still have explainin’ to do.”

“Are you serious?” You grabbed him by the arm to quicken his pace. “I already told you. I snuck to the human realm, met you on accident, ran into you on the street, then again at the cafe, and then a third time at night.”

“Makes ya sound like a stalker.” There’s a sly grin on his lips and you feel your eye twitch.

“I’m not a stalker. They were all coincidences. Like I’d go out of my way to find you. Don’t get cocky, you’re only a human after all.” A chill settles over you. Okay, maybe you had gone out of your way once or twice, but he didn’t need to know that. “Besides, it happens all the time. I’ve lived hundreds and hundreds of years. You think you’re the only human I’ve ever bumped into on the street?”

“No,” there’s a thoughtful look on his face as he gripped his towel with his free hand to keep it from falling, “but I bet I’m the only human you’ve ever gone out of your way to save.” Your eyes narrowed and you huff quietly. 

“Hey, don’t go spreading that around. You’ll ruin my reputation, you know.” To this, you only hear a quiet chuckle from Mammon. 

With the two of you standing outside the House of Lamentation, you dug for your keys in your pocket. Mammon shifted uncomfortably behind you. “Would ya mind hurryin’ it up? Some of us are practically naked out here.” 

“Announce it louder; maybe another demon will take you off my hands.” You chuckled to yourself when hearing an annoyed sigh from behind you. “Be patient.” You scolded lightly as you went to unlock the door. With the turn of the key, the door opens to reveal the inside of the house. Mammon shuffles in nervously behind you, his eyes anxiously taking everything in.

“Sure is, uh, roomy.” 

“You’re back.” Mammon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Lucifer. He quickly moved behind you, anxiously peering over your shoulder. 

“Yes, well, it turns out Mammon is quite the slow walker.” You ignored the look on Lucifer’s face and gave Mammon a reassuring smile. “Well? Let’s go; you want to see your room, don’t you? You’ll be given a change of clothes there.” 

“Say no more.” Mammon’s hurrying down the hall before you can say anything else, leaving you and Lucifer alone for the moment. 

“It seems friendly with you.” His tone is accusatory, and while you have an idea of what he’s implying, you try not to let it show on your face. Sometimes, playing dumb when around Lucifer was the best action to take. 

“I suppose.” You played it off. “I think the human is just nervous to be in the Devildom. Can you blame it?” You flinch at the usage of your own words. You didn’t like referring to Mammon that way, but it might make Lucifer less suspicious of you the more detached you sound. “Humans aren’t exactly meant for the Devildom, and it doesn’t help that Lord Diavolo summoned it in just a towel. Might as well stuff an apple in it’s mouth and put it on a plate.” Lucifer seemed to take your words into consideration before a sigh escaped his lips. 

“You may have a point.” You felt the tension begin to leave your body. “The human was quick to select you. You don’t find that odd?”

“I think you’re just intimidating.” 

“And you aren’t? You’re no less intimidating than the others. It could have picked anyone, yet it settled for you. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before you were selected. There also,” there’s a pause in Lucifer’s speech, as if he’s carefully forming a sentence in his mind, “never mind that. Just do your job and make sure a demon doesn’t pluck the human like a fruit hanging from a tree. We’ll be meeting the rest of the exchange students tomorrow, as well as attending classes, so make sure the two of you get enough rest tonight. I will not tolerate anyone skipping the first day of classes, nor will I excuse any tardiness.” 

And with that he’s gone, making his way back toward his office. A sigh of relief left you before you snapped out of your daze. “Shit,” you swore silently. Mammon didn’t know where his room was.

burned. (zuko x reader request)

hi!! thank you all for being very patient with me :) this is something that’s been requested a lot!! 

Hello! I recently read Rotations AND FELL IN LOVE! IT'S A MASTERPIECE! Could I request a zuko x reader where zuko and y/n get into an argument and Zuko burns y/n since he couldn't control himself, and leaves y/n hurt for weeks, but then she suddenly forgives him instead of yelling at him? Kind of like the scene where Zuko and Iroh reunite, I guess!! Ty so much, I love your work! (I hope this isn't too much of a burden 😢❤️) have a nice day and stay inside!! (*´ω｀*)

Hey!! Could i request an imagine where Zuko accidentally burns and seriously injures his SO by his own hand? I feel his reaction would be interesting when he realizes what he’d done!

(Y/N) and Zuko had come from very different lives. He was Fire Nation royalty, someone who had been honored and revered almost his entire life. She was an earth bender from outside of Omashu. Her father had been a farmer, as had her grandfather, and her great-grandfather, and so on. She had been dirt poor and, until recently, Zuko’s feet had never even set foot on dirt. Still, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. He was funny, even if he wasn’t always trying to be, and she enjoyed his company. He was honest, and (Y/N) admired honesty. It wasn’t bad that he was pretty cute, either. 

Their day had been surprisingly lazy. Ember Island seemed to have that effect on people. The chill, beachy vibes of the island made you want to kick your feet back and enjoy some watermelon juice on the beach, and (Y/N) and her friends felt no different. She lay on the beach beside Suki as Katara and Aang swam and Sokka and Toph made sand sculptures. She held her hand over her eyes as she scanned the area for Zuko. He was probably inside brooding somewhere. 

She closed her eyes to return to sunbathing, but then heard the harsh blasts of fire that were engrained in her brain since she was a child. She jumped to her feet immediately to find the source of the blasts, and was sadly unsurprised to see Zuko firing at Aang. It had been hard to retrain herself to trust him and it shocked her to find how easily she was willing to accept that he had turned on him. 

(Y/N) ran toward Aang, putting herself in between him and Zuko’s fire. She quickly tried to make a shield from the rock wall that surrounded the beach, but just as the shield came up, she felt a searing pain in her left leg. She cried out, falling to the ground, and the shield fell as well. 

“(Y/N)!” Aang shouted as he dropped to his knees. “Are you alright?” 

She shut her eyes tightly as she shook her head, shaky fingers pointing to her leg. (Y/N) opened her eyes to see that half her calf was red and raw. Burned, and there was only one thing that could have done it. 

Zuko fell to her side. “(Y/N), I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was just testing Aang and I didn’t see you, I’m so sorry-”

“Sokka, help me get her inside,” Katara ordered. (Y/N) felt herself being lifted into Sokka’s arms. Her eyes welled with tears from the pain. She watched Sokka’s face as he carried her inside to her room and laid her on the bed. Katara came in soon after, water floating around her hands. 

“This might hurt a bit,” Katara said softly and (Y/N) nodded as she began healing. 

Zuko watched from the door frame as Katara healed (Y/N). He felt horrible. The pit in his stomach was large and heavy. He knew how dangerous fire could be. He had grown up being taught that burns to someone you were fighting were supposed to be deliberate. If you burned someone, it was because you meant to. He wasn’t trying to burn Aang and he certainly hadn’t meant to burn (Y/N) in the crossfire. But now he had to watch her suffer from the pain that he caused.

“She’ll be okay,” Toph said from beside him. Zuko jumped as he looked down. He hadn’t heard her approach. “She’s tough.”

(Y/N) spent a few days on bedrest in her room. At first, only Katara was allowed to enter for their healing sessions. Slowly, their other friends started to visit. Everyone stopped by her bedside to say spend time with her, except Zuko. He felt much too guilty to even consider going into her room. It wasn’t until (Y/N) hobbled downstairs one day that he knew the conversation he had been dreading would be unavoidable. 

She wobbled on her leg as she made her way to the kitchen, where Zuko sat at the table. (Y/N) sat in the chair directly across from him and Zuko could feel her stare boring into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but was surprised to see hers open at the same time. 

“Sorry,” They said simultaneously. They both blushed. 

“You go first,” (Y/N) said. 

“I am so, so sorry for burning you. I never meant to. I was just trying to test Aang but I should have let everyone know that I was going to do it, and I feel so horrible for even causing you pain that I haven’t been able to sleep at night and--” 

“Zuko,” (Y/N) interrupted him. “There’s nothing to forgive.” The boy paused and stared at her, confused. 

“There’s not?” She shook her head. 

“It was an accident. I know you never meant to hurt me.” She looked down at her leg. “Plus, I think I’ll have a pretty cool scar to match yours!” 

Zuko sat there, positively dumbfounded, before breaking into a smile. “You’re crazy.” 

(Y/N) grinned back. “It’s why you love me.” 

Zuko kept smiling down at his hands. She was right, after all. 

---

Tag List!!

@beifongsss , @musicalkeys , @harryisthesunshine , @aroyaldarknessblr 

14 (bodyguard AU) and 46 (blind date) sounds fun,,, your choice of ship ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

14. Bodyguard AU || 46. Blind date

Random choice generator got me creativisleep!

~

roman's a semi-popular actor- he's never really been to an awards show, and he's not been in That much, but he had a small but strong role in a real popular film and plenty of leading ones in lesser known movies. he's got enough of a following to be satisfied with himself, even if it isn't That huge of one

because of this, roman didn't take the possible dangers of his fame seriously... until he got jumped by one fan at a play in his hometown. he came out fine (he's always fine ;p) but it made him reconsider his choice to not have some sort of protection

he ends up hiring remy to be his bodyguard, a choice he Slightly starts regretting when he realizes remy, despite having excellent marks out of bodyguard school, is about as professional as a golden retriever

they take roman's food out of his fridge Whenever, borrow Way too many of his shirts (and roman hasn't seen his BMC 'boyf riends' hoodie since they got their hands on it), and is never in typical bodyguard wear (they wore a suit for the interview and never again)

but they also bring roman coffee (when did they get his regular figured out...?), talk to him like he's just a Person and not a celeb, and have yet to try and kill him themself so. roman's alright with them staying

(plus, is it so wrong if roman enjoys how they look? he deserves for a bit of an eye-candy sorta bodyguard, damnit, they're with him all the time after all)

remy's been with roman as his bodyguard for a few months when roman decides he cant just keep Lookin at a pretty person, he deserves to have a pretty person to kiss and cuddle with too!! so he pokes around for a bit, finds a non-homophobic service (he's pan, so he could Technically use a plain ol' straight service, but he refuses on gay principle), and uses it

idk how datin apps work but this one that im makin up is a blind match up app, which takes ur information and uses it to randomly pair u up with random accounts. the app keeps account info privated until After the first date has been gone on, to really maintain the 'blind match' aspect. the matched up people play a mini guessing game through the app about places they can go for a date until location and time is determined

roman likes the idea of the app mostly to keep his own identity secret as long as possible- he doesnt want people pickin his account Just bc he's a celeb, y'know?

the first couple of blind dates dont go well tho... most are nice people who roman just isn't compatible with, one was a straight woman who spent the entire date being Very homophobic despite roman's rainbow heart + pan flag pins, and someone who was clearly Too Much Of A Fan (remy had to physically pull them off of roman and help him escape the park before they could latch back on)

oh, did roman not mention? remy's been coming on all his dates with him

because of course they are! they need to protect roman! whether that's by eating dinner in the booth over or sitting two rows back at the cinema or awkwardly half-stalkin roman and his date while they walk about

so they're always there, to bring roman there and take him home, and listen when he complains about the bad matches and lament the almost-winners, and convince him he is a catch that needs to try again because eventually Someone will realize he really is too good to pass up

(remy always says that line in a weird way)

so he keeps trying... until roman has possibly the worst date ever

because he gets stood up. it's fifteen minutes past the scheduled date time, he's gotten no text explainin where they are, but he's sittin at the restaurant alone and starting to become rather upset by the pitying look the server gives him when he says he's still waitin on someone else before he orders

remy slides into the seat across from him at the 20 minute mark. shoots roman an apologetic smile that an outsider would mistake as a 'sorry im late' one when roman knows it's a 'sorry they didnt show' one

roman appreciates the gesture to save him, but he almost just wants to go home at this point. he's tired and bein stood up feels like Shit, actually, and he's about ready to call off the whole dating thing really, dramatic as that may be (like it's not his middle name)

but remy says smth about this place having really good sandwiches, and it's clear they're tryin so hard to help roman out here, even a little, and roman can't just dismiss that effort, so he picks up his menu again and orders smth and tries to ignore the way his face heats up just the slightest at the relieved smile remy flashes next

lunch with remy is great, actually, better than it would've been with whoever couldnt be bothered to show or apologize or Anything. remy even knows the way to an ice cream shop on the way home, sayin it's for roman's 'broken heart' as they pay for it

except, well... roman's heart isn't feelin so broken anymore

it's actually feeling pretty put together. really functional. functioning really fast. especially when roman's looking at remy. or when remy's lookin at roman. or when they smile. or when they laugh. or when they speak. or when they-

roman doesn't fall asleep until 2am that night, heart still racing a bit, screaming into his pillow a bit as he acknowledges he is wholly and totally head-over-heels for his bodyguard

he tells remy the next day he's done with dating for a bit, saying he's still upset over being stood up. he doesn't mention that it's also bc remy's ruined all other people for him

things try to fall back in routine from there, but it's a bit harder when roman's trying to not be so in love with someone who just works for him. and remy's definitely started pickin up on it too- they had asked him just last if he was okay, that he didn't seem as upset by remy takin his clothes anymore, and that didn't seem like him, was he getting sick?

the opposite, actually, absolutely nothing makes me feel better then seeing you walk around in my shirt or jacket or whatever else, please never stop and also kiss me?

roman just said he was tired

eventually... roman decides this can't keep going on. remy's giving him more weird looks these days, and roman is pretty sure being around remy so much without Any kisses is starting to cause brain decay (it's not, it's really not, remy always bein on his mind is just a side effect of.... pretti........). so, he takes matters into his own hands

admittedly, maybe firing remy wasn't the best way to go, given remy immediately demands to know why, what they did wrong, even asking if roman's being blackmailed into this

"blink once for yes, twice for no" remy asks, lowering the sunglasses they always have on to look directly at roman's eyes

roman doesn't blink for a full minute. he might not be breathing for that minute either. has he ever seen remy's eyes this close? has he ever seen them at all? they're such a brilliant shade of brown. roman could drown in them. he might be already

roman's pretty sure he started this conversation standing up, but maybe not, because when he finally blinks and remembers things outside of remy's eyes exist he's sitting down and remy looks extremely concerned

"okay... what's wrong, hun?" they ask, and oh no, they look so sad, and worried, and that's not good, roman should fix that right now, regardless of whatever he was doing before (he's forgotten)

"im gay" he responds intelligently. this will fix everything

remy, however, just looks confused. "yes?"

"for you" roman adds, helpfully, sure that Now remy will understand they're just really very pretty and nothing's wrong and if they feel bad still they should look in a mirror because then they'll be good again

now it's remy's turn to sit in silence, expression frozen in one of shock. they still havent put their sunglasses back on, so roman doesnt mind, bc this gives him more time to stare at remy's eyes

"you're having a breakdown because you're gay for me???" remy finally asks, expression unfreezing to look incredulous and a little hurt

roman returns a similar look. "im not having a breakdown!"

remy scoffs. "yeah, sure, right, that's why you suddenly froze and completely stopped breathing and minorly collapsed after i... look off my shades to look at you..." they suddenly break out in a smirk. "oh my gods, you're a gay disaster"

roman doesn't try to deny it, especially with the knowledge he apparently did stop breathing to admire remy's eyes. they have a point

"how long?"

"since that date you hijacked after i got stood up" roman admits. he finds it extraordinarily rude when remy starts laughing

...until they're pulling out their phone, hurriedly opening up the exact same dating app roman had been using, showing a log of all the dates they had planned- there's only one marked as having actually been attended

same date time and place of the one where roman had assumed he had been stood up

"you broke my heart!" roman says as remy puts away their phone, over-dramatically, not actually giving a damn, just feeling gay and a bit giddy at the thought remy hadnt gone to any of the other dates, just theirs

no longer worried quite as much about roman for the moment, remy's smirk just grows, smoothly moving from being crouched in front of roman to being set firmly in his lap, lazily brushing hair out of his eyes and wow was remy always this warm? and stunning? and perfect?

"i dunno babe... sounds more like i stole it" remy teases, movin from playing with roman's hair to cuppin his cheek, leaning in close and not even bothering to pretend to be looking at anything other than roman's lips. "which, yeah, bad bodyguard etiquette... i hope you can forgive me..."

roman doesn't need his words to answer that tease

Mun will you pretty pleeeeeease write a nsfw scenario of kai's s/o domming him in bed?? I just think sub Kai is neat😩💦💦

~Impulse~

-Kai Chisaki smut-

(Warnings: pegging, dirty talk, edging, cumshots, bound sex (bdsm?)

Impulse: sudden spontaneous inclination or incitement to some usually unpremeditated action

Wake up, eat, shower, work, sleep. Wake up, eat, shower, work, sleep. Wake up eat, shower...it was a brutal repetitive, and far too tedious schedule lately. Pops was away on a vacation of sorts and he left work for Kai to do that the man had never even seen before. Nevertheless, Kai agreed because if he were to fully take over for Pops then he would need to know how to do everything by now at the least. The down side to this was more work meant less time with you. Now on your end, you were more patient with the situation. Besides, Pops would return tomorrow. The old man had only been gone for 5 days prior and you knew Kai was under a lot of pressure so you didn’t complain. Being with Chisaki required a certain level of independence all in its own. But on his end, he was going to go insane without you. He was only a man of course, and he still had his needs. Right now he badly needed to hold you (which wasn’t as rare as you would think). On top of this, he missed just relaxing with you, talking, and even sliding a few scandalous make-out sessions in as well. On the same subject of scandals, Kai was at his wits ends sexually as well. 5 days plus the 4 days beforehand, all of which spent outside of that delicious body of yours...it was his personal hell not being able to make love to you at the moment. In frustration and exhaustion he had fallen asleep with you in his arms. 

He could’ve slept the entire night had it not been for his urges. His dreams about you were less than pure right now. In short, his resolve was crumbling and the once gathered Kai Chisaki was reduced to that of a horny teenager or a dog in heat. His eyes popped open and he shuddered at the disgusting sweat on his forehead. His hard-on was particularly painful, and his mouth was dry. Most of all, he was absolutely desperate to feel any sort of relief so he began grinding up against you in the hope that you’d wake up soon enough for him to fuck you into the mattress. It wasn’t long before your eyes gingerly opened as well. You were still a little sleepy, but it didn’t take much to assess the current situation at hand. The way Kai ground himself against you so firmly, and those heavy breaths of his in your ears told you everything you needed to know...

Kai Chisaki was in the mood.

With such an aversion to touch most people would assume at first thought that this particular activity might be rare for you, but it was the opposite. Kai wad a fairly sexually active man when it came to you. Lately with his tight schedule you couldn’t deny that you missed him too, but he wasn’t getting off the chain so easily this time. No no no...he would have to pay the price for not even attempting to touch you. Your patience for his job could only go so far, you still had needs too after all. “Mmmmm, Chisaki~ What exactly do you think you’re up to at this hour, hmm?” You teased him as he shifted to grope you as well. “Angel, I think you should already know what I’m doing. Now why don’t you be good for your master and roll over to your knees. I need you~” He growled the last part and nipped at your ear. You smirked and rolled away for him to the far edge of the bed. Then you turned to look at his shocked/annoyed expression. He was now determined to wipe that damned smirk off your face. “So you wish to play rough tonight, huh? Don’t make me get my tie from the closet and bind you before I fuck you into submission. I can promise you won’t be able to walk after wards. This is your last warning, Angel.” He mirrored your smirk with his own. You smiled in false innocence before standing from the bed. “Lay on your back and close your eyes, Kai~” He was skeptical at first, squinting at you in speculation but he couldn’t root through your innocent expression. Kai simple did as told because he figured you must be planning to taste him. Being a bit cocky he began to speak on it while his eyes were tightly shut to prevent peeking. “Come now Angel, do you really think I don’t know what you’re up to? I know you by now my love. If you want to have my cock in your mouth then you don’t have to write it off as some sort of grand surprise.” 

While he was busy talking his shit, you had already made your way to and from his closet. This would take some speed and effort, but you could pull it off if you continued letting him think this was simple an appetizer blow job before the full meal fucking. 

“Angel...what are you doing?” You simply silenced him with a deep kiss while your hand worked above you to tie him to the headboard posts flawlessly. When you were sure of your work you pulled away and looked at it with pride. Even if he wanted to use his quirk to break down the binding, he couldn’t move to do so because of the way you tied his wrists up. “Relax because you’re under my control for once tonight.” You kissed his cheek and moved to sit beside him on the bed. He seemed annoyed but that wouldn’t stop you just yet. “Y/N cut it out. I can only tolerate this so much but you know I like to be the one setting the pace. Untie me right now.” You fake gasped at his words and shook your head in shame. “Wow Kai, I thought you knew better than to try and call shots with me taking over like this. The more of a brat you are, the more needy I’ll leave you.” You shrugged as if it were no big deal. He suddenly jerked his arms down in a feeble attempt to get loose but it was all in vain of course. “Damn you...” He hissed in annoyance. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll have a little taste of that cock of yours. C’mon Kai, I know you must be in pain by now by how hard it is. Why don’t you just ask me, hmm?” You smiled innocently at him and he just glared back at you. “Fuck off.” You gasped in fake shock. “Chisaki, such cruel language!” You knew he wasn’t mean to you, but he was simply just so horny and never has he been put in this situation before. However, after watching you begin to settle into bed beside him and leave him like this, realization set in that you weren’t bluffing. “A...angel wait.” He quietly whispered and you stopped your motions. “Oh?” You tilted your head and waited. He sighed and turned his head away from you. “I said...please. Please suck my cock, Angel.” He huffed and you could clearly see the red that adorned itself on his face and even the tips of his ears. He was admitting his defeat reluctantly, and that was all you needed for now. 

You dipped your head down without warning and immediately began putting in just the right amount of pressure and tongue work that made his head spin with pleasure. He was putty in your hands and you knew it. He certainly wouldn’t last long with the way you were doing what you were doing. Just as quickly as you started you suddenly stopped and pulled away just to revel in the way he looked at this moment. “Wow Kai, who knew you could pull off the fucked out slut look so well.” He would’ve told you to watch your tongue had it not been for the fact his words wouldn’t form out loud. He was a sweaty and sticky mess, face burning red, gasping and groaning at the the way you so quickly brought him to the edge before pulling him away once more. This carried on 3 more times until he could barely take anymore of it. “Pleeeassse Angeelllll...” He drawled out in a long groan/whine. He was desperate to cross the line, and was finally willing to beg you if that was what it took. “Aw Kai! You look a disgusting mess right now. Isn’t this normally the time that I look like that? Right before you fuck me right? Let’s go ahead and put a spin on this too, shall we?” You stood up to search through your closet for something you were too scared to introduce to him 3 months ago when you impulse bought it. Meanwhile he was taking the time to recover from your assault, silently praying to God that you’d let him finish. You smiled and returned, carefully tightening the straps around your hips. He was too weak to lift his head and peek, but curiosity was driving him insane until he felt a smooth and cool silicone firmness at his entrance. “Angel...what the hell is that?” He gulped in fear. 

This was a subject you talked about in the past but he had forgotten the stance on it because it was buried in the piles of ‘maybe’ for sex. Now it was coming back to haunt him at this very moment. 

“That’s not what I thi-UGHHHH f-fuck! Angel!?” He gasped and nearly choked back on his own saliva. You shushed him gently as you stroked the side of his sweat soaked face and gently guided the strap on into him until it was buried as deeply as possible. “Dear God...” He gasped once more, but there was no denial in his tone so you took it as an invitation to continue. As you laid firm strokes into him he was silent at first and you almost wondered if you were bothering him more than turning him on, until you looked up at him and saw the expression he held. Kai was biting on his hand for dear life, and his eyes were screwed tightly shut, with a single tear threatening to leave his eyes. You picked up pace just a bit and finally he couldn't help himself, giving you the reaction you hoped to receive. “Uggghhhhh, more...please ANGEL! More~more, more, more...fuck...ugh~” You smirked in triumph and picked up pace, enjoying fucking him for once. It had gotten to point where he was vocal than he’d ever been during sex. 

And it was rewarding as Hell.

Between the gasping, moaning, groaning, and borderline whining, he had reached a point where he reached down and started to jerk himself off while you fucked him. That was too much apparently because he came hard shortly afterwards, painting his own stomach with his cum, and letting it run off the sides of his body onto the blankets, effectively staining it with your sins. He was barely able to gain his breath but once he did, he was exhausted and oh so satisfied. For once, you were the one bring him the towel to clean himself up with instead of the other way around. Once that was all finished, and Kai helped you take care of yourself as well, the two of your were sent off into a sex induced slumber that would prove this impulse sex to be the best you’ve ever had so far.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH]  [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.”  Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly.   Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father’s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running.  He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

I know DC won’t do a good job addressing Dick’s issues post-amnesia arc, sooo I decided to go ahead and write a lil fix-it fic where Dick talks to Clark about how the batfam treated him as Ric. 

Read on AO3

Summary:

“Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone.

Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it.

“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly.

Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern.

Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true… why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”

Dick finds himself sitting on the ledge of a building in Metropolis one Tuesday night in July.

He’s in the midtown district that’s a halfway point between the downtown and suburb area. It’s always been Dick’s favorite part of Metropolis other than Clark’s apartment.

Most of the businesses in this area are family-owned. They’re decorated with fresh coats of white paint, green plants, pretty lights, and handpicked decor that gives each place it’s own unique feel. It’s the type of place where the owners know you by name and bend over backwards to get you what you’re looking for.

It’s that personal connection that Dick loves the most. It gives the whole place a very welcoming and homey vibe that reminds him a lot of the circus. It’s nothing at all like the fake illusion of community that holds Bludhaven together like an overused piece of scotch tape.

The only downside is that it’s a little too humid for his liking, but the warm breeze that keeps ghosting through his hair makes it bearable. Plus, the fairy lights that are strewn between a lot of the restaurants across from where he’s sitting are mesmerizing to look at. They make it easy to forget about things like the weather.

Dick wishes the restaurants were still open at this time of night. The longer he eyes the Mexican restaurant down the street, the more his stomach starts to rumble insistently. He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch and he’s starving. A few tacos and some salsa would really do wonders for his mood.

Dick crosses his arms over his increasingly loud stomach.

“Sh!” he hisses at it in the same way he hisses at his teammates when they’re being too rowdy.

He clenches his fingers in the fabric of his shirt and lets out a shaky breath, chest feeling too tight for comfort.

Teammates. Friends. Right. He had those once.

He doesn’t want to think about that. About his friends. Or what’s left of them, anyways.

He came here to forget about that stuff. To forget about everything that happened to him in Bludhaven. The destruction of Gotham and his family. The loss of...

“Shit.”

Dick forces the image of Alfred’s smiling face out of his mind. He already cried about Alfred this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that. And a lot of days before that.

He’s tired of crying. Tired of feeling like he’s a stupid piece of Swiss cheese that’s got too many holes in it. Too many pieces missing. He’s just…

So tired.

Dick threads his fingers through his hair and pulls it back out of his face. The more he soaks in the tranquil atmosphere of the street, the more he feels like disrupting it by screaming into the night. He won’t do it, though. It may be Troy Bolton’s style, but it sure isn’t his.

“Thought I recognized your voice.”

Dick looks up, not all that surprised to see Clark gliding down towards him in his Superman gear. Clark’s eyes are warm and friendly, just like how they always are whenever it’s just the two of them. Dick’s glad that at least that hasn’t changed.

“Supes,” he says, sporting a genuine smile. “Long time no see.”

Clark returns the smile easily and floats closer until they’re face to face. He holds out his blue-clad arms in invitation.

Dick feels himself hesitate for a split second. He’s never been hurt by those hands. By a lot of other hands, sure. But never Clark’s.

He dives forward and wraps both his arms around Clark’s shoulders, pressing his cheek into the crook of Clark’s warm neck. Clark hums in happiness and returns the embrace, leaning his head against Dick’s.

Clark is bigger than Dick. Always has been. Getting hugs from him feels like being engulfed by an impenetrable teddy bear. It’s… nice. Feels safe.

Dick likes feeling safe.

It takes a long, long time before either of them pulls away. And even when Clark moves to sit on the ledge, he stills keeps his arm around Dick’s shoulders, pulling Dick close into his side.

Dick lets Clark take all of his weight, and he sighs in relief, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“I don’t mean to get all mushy on you,” Clark says through a laugh that sounds a little too wet. A little too fake. “But I’ve really missed you.”

And just like that, Dick suddenly feels cold inside. Detached. Like he has to shut his emotions off before he explodes.

He’s heard that same sentence uttered by his family ever since he got his memories back. Part of him understands what they mean. They were emotionally attached to Dick Grayson, not the person he became after he got his brains scrambled. Obviously, they would miss who he used to be.

The other part of him, the more fragile part, feels rejected by them. Because for a period of time, Ric was all he ever was. The only thing he ever knew. The only thing he could be. And his family rejected that part of him. They didn’t want him around unless he was the person they knew.

Even Babs, who had been there when he was learning how to walk again, only showed up in Bludhaven to try and get him to remember who he was before the accident. She didn’t want to support him as Ric. She wanted what was best for her, not what was best for him.

Dick still remembers every detail from those days. It’s not easy for him to forget how his family tried to make him step back into his old life rather than help him move forward into a new one.

Even though he’s had his memories back for a few weeks now, he’s still not over it. He’s not sure he’ll be over it for a long time, if ever.

Clark’s arm suddenly tightens around Dick even more. Shit. Dick must have spaced out. He does that a lot more now these days. That, and he gets really intense headaches a few times a week. Side effects from brain damage and all that.

“Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone.

Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it.

“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly.

Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern.

Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true…why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”

Dick knows it’s not fair to ask that to Superman of all people. Clark can’t save everybody. He can’t be everywhere at once taking care of other people’s problems, especially when things have been so crazy lately with his own son and all the hero deaths...

Fuck. He’s got tears burning in the corners of his eyes now. He refuses to let them fall. Refuses to let himself crumble when he’s spent weeks trying to put himself back together.

“I visited you once while you were in the hospital,” Clark admits with a color of remorse. “Bruce didn’t think it was a good idea for anyone to come see you once you woke up.”

Bruce. Typical.

“He told us you were having a hard time adjusting. Said you didn’t want to be around your family and friends.” Clark eyes him closely. “I’m guessing it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it?”

Dick’s laugh falls flat. “Isn’t it always when it involves Bruce?”

“Touché.”

Dick pulls part of Clark’s cape into his lap and rubs the fabric between his fingers. He’s been sitting up here for way too long. He can’t help but fidget under Clark’s arm.

“You know what he did the first day I got home from the hospital?” Dick asks, focusing on the cape instead of Clark’s gaze. “I didn’t even have time to change out of my hospital gown before Alf—they shuffled me down to the batcave.”

He remembers how confused he’d been at that time. How awestruck he was at the very idea that he apparently grew up in a mansion with a butler. It didn’t make sense to him back then. Not when he only had a few select memories from the circus days and nothing else.

“Imagine my surprise when a man in a bat costume greeted me by jumping down from the goddamn rafters.”

He feels Clark’s stare burning into the side of his head.

“He did not,” Clark says in a tone that’s part disbelief and part oh my fucking god my best friend is a moron.

“Yup,” Dick says with a pop. “Right after that, I was treated to a video of me getting my brains blown out.”

Clark’s mouth drops open in shock. “What the hell?”

“My thoughts exactly. I booked it out of there and never went back.”

“He can’t just… why would he…?”

“Listen, I’m just happy to know that you’re acting like this isn’t normal. Everyone else was perfectly fine with it, and I thought there was something wrong with me for thinking it was insane to watch one of the most traumatic experiences of my life fresh out of the hospital.”

Clark groans and rubs his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ. There’s nothing wrong with you . Bruce on the other hand…”

“A real piece of work,” Dick nods in agreement. “He wanted me to be the same as I was before a bullet snatched my entire life away from me. Everyone did. That’s why they showed me that video, and that’s why I didn’t want to be around anyone I knew. They were only interested in getting me to remember stuff I had no chance of remembering. Shit sucked.”

And it still does. It really, really sucks.  

Clark takes a second to process all that. “I can’t even imagine… I’m really sorry, Dick. Really, I am.”

Dick finally raises his head to lock eyes with Clark. He almost does a double-take when he realizes how upset Clark looks with his furrowed brows and deep frown.

“I didn’t know all that was going on. If I had, I would’ve checked on you even if Bruce didn’t want me to. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with me at that point, I still should have tried. I could’ve at least pestered Bruce into helping you more. I never was very good at trying to fix things between you two, though.”

Dick smiles sadly. “No, I guess not. That’s not part of your job description anyways.”

Clark squeezes the back of Dick’s neck. “It’s my job as your friend to give him a kick in the ass for you. How about that?”

“I think I could get behind that. Just… go easy on him, alright? He’s been dealing with a lot of shit lately.”

Clark gives him a pointed look. “You’re his kid. Your health and safety should have been his priority. Not getting your memories back. He needs to know that.”

“I know, I know,” Dick grumbles and crosses his arms. “I just think that with everything that’s happened recently, he’s not going to give you an explanation you’ll be satisfied with. There’s a lot of things he’s lost control of, and honestly, catching the third degree from you probably won’t register with him in a good way right now.”

Clark whistles short and low. “Even when he’s the one in the wrong, you’re still looking out for him. You amaze me Dick Grayson. Always have. You mind if I start sending Jon your way? I think he could learn a thing or two from you. ”

Dick feels his cheeks get hot at the praise. When he was younger, he always felt like a million bucks whenever Clark complimented him. Brain damage or no, that still hasn’t changed.

“From me? I’ve got nothing on you.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my favorite hero like that,” Clark says, booping Dick on the nose.

Even though Clark is probably just teasing him, Dick can’t help but soak in the happiness at the very idea of it.

“And don’t worry about Bruce’s problems right now,” Clark says, voice taking on a concerned tone once again. “If he needs help… I’ll do my best to help him. But I’m still going to talk to him about all of this because he needs to hear it.” Clark’s blue eyes are so intense that Dick almost looks away from him. “You just focus on yourself, alright?”

Dick wants to laugh at that because he’s so tired of thinking about himself. He spent practically an entire year having an identity crisis as Ric, and now that he has all of his memories back, he feels lost all over again. It’s like a rollercoaster he can’t get off of.

“Thanks,” he says anyway, because what the hell else is he supposed to say?

Clark claps him on the back, and just like that, the atmosphere suddenly feels lighter.

Dick feels lighter too. Kind of. Maybe it’s just the humidity making him feel a certain way.

“You know,” Clark says as he peels himself off the ledge and starts floating, “Lois cooked up a mean lasagna earlier. We still have half a pan left. Think you’d be interested in finishing it off with me?”

Dick’s stomach growls at the mention of food. He’s had hunger pain for hours now, and he can feel it reaching a peak. Even if Clark had just asked him to eat a seasoned rat, his answer still would’ve been the same.  

“Hell yeah.”

He pulls himself to his feet and jumps forward, knowing that even if he’s uncertain about everything else in his life, the one thing he can rely on is that Clark will catch him.

And he does.

Hell[L]ing || 04

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 3,416 § — Rating: M § — Warnings: None. Kookie being the sweet helpful bun that he is.

§ — A/N: So, banged this entire chapter out in a day and a half because, well, QUARANTINE. I should have been working on my commissions or my Webtoon contest entry, but I had an itch to get the next chapter of this out because it’s about to get GOOD. Oh, and there’s a decent amount of Jungkookie in this chapter~ Enjoy!

 Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

Today, it was raining. If you had the ability to have the sky open up and rain on you every day, you would do it in a heartbeat— you loved the rain. It was the only time where you felt fractionally normal around other people. The constant interference of energy caused by rainfall created something like a static that made it easier to drown out invasive outside emotions. You could have a conversation with someone and not get barreled over by wave after wave of their feelings. Plus, you couldn’t resist opening the windows of your home to let the sweet, clean air left behind a recent rain shower wash away any stagnant atmosphere that may have accumulated within its walls.

Beyond that it was raining, it was also, suddenly, surprisingly, pleasantly, Friday. After the short, but no less exhausting, encounter with your neighbor, Seokjin, and his sickly roommate, Taehyung, the rest of the week passed by with little excitement. Namjoon had given you the look—one you were expecting to get, but nerve-wracking nonetheless— once he found out that you had yet to write basically the first 75 pages of your novel, though at this point he was not surprised if the lack of spike in his aura suggested anything. He had given you until Thursday to write at least an outline of events so he could have a better understanding of how the heroine falls into the unfortunate situation she finds herself in. Thankfully, you had been able to accomplish this task, and was even able to send in dialog samples. Namjoon, for now, had been placated.

The other thing about Friday, or this Friday in particular, was that it was the third Friday of the month signaling your bi-weekly visit from your favorite grocery delivery boy, Jungkook. He would be arriving a little after 4pm, as he kept your delivery to the end of his route. Good thing too; the two of you have recently gotten close and your chattering would often cause tardiness to Jungkook’s other appointments. Not to mention you lived fairly far out of the way for your delivery boy who drove nearly 45 minutes just to drop off six measly bags of filled with the food items you had texted him the previous day.

Honestly the boy was too helpful for his own good. There was one Friday where he had popped by with your things when you off-handedly mentioned how the ice-maker in your freezer wasn’t working properly and making too much ice. The angel that is your delivery boy spent the next 20 minutes with your irritating ice-maker, chipping away at the ice that had frozen over the rotator and fixing the setting all so you wouldn’t have to go with your original plan which involved defrosting your freezer, losing your frozen goods, and cleaning up a cold, wet mess afterwards. He had not complained once. Not about the ice, not about having to use a screwdriver as a pick, not even when his fingers had become so cold that you could feel the pain— literally.

This was one of many examples of his unbridled kindness, and one of the many reasons you were always excited to see the boy. As you straightened your house and rearranged your pantry to fit the incoming foodstuff, the rain continued to strike the outside of your house, mixing in well with the low-fi hip-hop you had playing in the background on your stereo system. It almost made you sleepy, but your relaxed state wasn’t enough to deter the building anticipation towards your future visitor.

When you were pleased with your pantry, you backed away and closed the door, just in time it seemed, as there was a quiet knock at your door. You sighed happily— you hadn’t felt the boy coming at all, bless the rain and its emotion-jamming effects. Ah, wait, the rain…

You zipped over to the door, realizing a bit sluggishly that Jungkook would be standing outside in the rain with all of your groceries until you opened it for him, as he was always the model citizen and wouldn’t enter without your knowledge. Clad in only socks, you slide across the hardwood flooring and straight into the door, hitting it against your shoulder with a slight ‘thud’, before regaining your footing and flinging open the front door. On the other side was a wet, mop-headed delivery boy, looking rather shocked at the speed in which you had approached the door and more than likely hearing the impact your body made with it.

“Sorry, sorry!” You said, picking up the reusable bags that he had lugged from his car and sat on your front step. Before you could grab a third bag, his hands shot out to stop you, fingers grazing your arm and allowing you to finally get a clear read on his emotions— he was like the air after the rain: sweet, clean, and refreshing.

“Noona, you don’t have to do that, I got those.” He said, picking up the other four bags, two in each hand, before following you into the house and, albeit with some trouble, kicked off his boots. Jungkook really had no wicked bone in his body, not one. He never had a second agenda, never said something he didn’t mean, never held a grudge; and his emotions reinforced all of these facts regularly. It was no wonder you liked being around him— you never needed your abilities to tell you what he was really feeling or thinking. He was an open book for you, and he did so with the knowledge of what you were capable of.

“Thanks for coming all the way out here for me, I really appreciate it.” You chimed, setting the bags down on the counter, Jungkook following suit. He gave a light-hearted shrug before ruffling some of the water out of his own hair.

“It’s okay, you are paying me after all,” A small huff escaped your lips at his comment as you placed your new gallon of milk into the refrigerator. Humor spilled into the air as you became accustomed to his energy despite the rain and he stifled a laugh at your reaction. “I’m only joking— well, no, you are paying me— you know I like hanging out with you!” You cracked a smile, not even able to continue to pretend to be mad at him.

“Yeah, yeah… took you long enough to talk to me though!” Teasing him had quickly become one of your favorite past-times. He was so easily embarrassed, and the way he always touched his ears when he was especially bashful entered dangerous territories for your heart. Precious boy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not, I didn’t, UGH. You know what I’m trying to say!” You sputtered out a laugh, not even the least surprised that you did, in fact, know what he was trying to say. He had confided in you shortly after communication had been established that he got nervous around new people, most specifically women. You weren’t sure why, he was a kind, bright, good-looking young man, and he had never produced much of a reason for it either. That’s just how he was. Perhaps he didn’t want to overstep any barriers and make people uncomfortable? Though now that you knew him, being uncomfortable with Jungkook was entirely impossible. And at his pink cheeks and pout, you caved, throwing a grape at him just to make him flinch.

“Alright punk, I forgive you.” You said before popping a different grape into your mouth. The dark-locked boy rubbed his chest where the grape had bounced off, feigning offence, the continuous stream of humor flowing off of him enough for you to know that he was enjoying your banter.

“Thanks, noona, really appreciate it, almost a year later!” He crinkled his nose at you as if he were irritated before tumbling into a fit of laughter, where you joined him merrily. Precious boy.

“So, what have you been up to? How’s school?” Routine questions, but you honestly wanted to know. He looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly trying to think of any recent changes in his life. You raised an eyebrow as you closed the door to your fridge once you finished putting away the chilled goods. As expected, he shrugged.

“The usual.” He began helping you by unloading the canned goods onto the counter top. “My film class is getting pretty interesting though.” Folding the tote bag the groceries were in, he placed it on one of your bar stools and then looked at you. “What about you? Anything interesting happen lately? Any more birds fly into your window?” You rolled your eyes at his teasing— living out here by yourself, you rarely had anything substantial to share with your friend. This time, however…

“Well, I’ve got new neighbors…” You revealed, picking up a few of the canned goods. Jungkook raised his eyebrow, following your lead and collecting a couple of cans to help you on your way to the pantry.

“Oh yeah?” You hummed, nodding your head as you placed your cans on the shelf.

“Mmhm. A tall guy with purple hair and his roommate that’s apparently always sick.” You elaborated, not mentioning names for now. “They’re… nice.” At your hesitation, you felt a slight buzz of uneasiness from the man beside you. You looked at him, knowing he was aware that you felt his change. “What?”

“Just nice?” His brows furrowed slightly as he looked at you like he was trying to read your energy, which you believed with little doubt he could. You spent too much time by yourself anymore and you long had forgotten how to properly dress your expressions for social interactions. You let out a breathy chuckle at his concern.

“Yes, nice.” You reiterated, plucking the cans from his arms. He gave you an unimpressed look that was garnished with a pout. With a sigh, you indulged him. “I can’t get a good read on either of them…” Your confession only left him more confused.

“You mean your empath stuff, right?” A nod of affirmation. “Why can’t you read them? I thought you didn’t know how to turn it off?” You hummed thoughtfully, taking the last can from him.

“It’s not that I can’t read them, it’s just that…” You turned from the pantry after placing the last can on the shelf and ran a hand through your hair. “The one dude is always freaking out— panic, panic, panic— all the time! I’m afraid that he’s going to give himself a heart attack! But beyond that, I have a gut feeling telling me that he’s a good person, even when he deliberately lies to me.” Arms crossed, Jungkook looked at you pointedly.

“So… a good liar?” He asked, trying to understand your instincts. You shrugged with a groan.

“Maybe? I don’t know, I really do think he’s… good.” You stepped back over to the counter to grab your new paper towel rolls and plastic wrap to be set in their proper locations. Jungkook slid onto a bar stool and leaned against the counter.

“Okay, not really sure what that means, but…” You glared at him, and he grinned at you, obviously trying to hold back laughter. “What about the other one?” At that, you paused. How were you supposed to explain ‘the other one’? Caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t bother putting way the items in your hand, rather opting to just set them on the counter again.

“Well, uh…” You trailed off, not entirely sure if he would believe you seeing as the last time you tried to explain something improbable with Yoongi didn’t go as you had hoped. However, looking at the wide-eyed boy in front of you, everything about his aura was open and trusting and you knew that if you told him, he would believe you. “His emotions come in ‘blips’.”

“’Blips’?” He repeated— not in a condescending way, but rather as if he were trying to place the definition of the word. You nodded, less than prepared to explain yourself.”

“Yeah, I can’t feel his emotions all the time, they go away and reappear like radar blips. But they’re always super intense.” Resting your forearms on the counter, you let the edge press into your ribs a bit as you leaned forward. Even without your abilities, you could tell that Jungkook was trying to think of an answer, anything that could be the cause. You almost smiled at his thoughtfulness— there was nothing to suggest he didn’t believe you.

“Well,” he started, breaking you out of your trance. “You said he was sick all the time, right? Maybe that could affect your readings?” You had thought about that possibility as well— you had never been knowingly near a significantly ill person, so you couldn’t say that it wasn’t conceivable; though saying that was the only issue would be erroneous. Still, seeing as this was the only reasonable explanation you had come up with, you chose to put your faith in it.

“Maybe,” You agreed, nodding. You didn’t bring up the midnight visitor or the crawly feeling of being watched the last week or so, knowing the kind boy in your kitchen would likely throw a fit trying to figure out a way to help you. To be honest, you kind of wish he would, though that was only in your own selfish interests. Since you hadn’t had any real incidents besides that one, you decided not to worry the boy.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s visit this time around had to be cut short, as he had other responsibilities to attend to in the evening. You gave him sass of course, stating that you couldn’t believe that he had something more important to do than keeping you company. He laughed and apologized, though a small twinge of guilt in the air made you realize that he knew the hidden meaning in your friendly repartee.

You were lonely.

You were also aware that he knew you’d be able to feel the minute change in his emotional state even with the rain, but neither of you commented on it before you ushered him out the door so he could drive home while it was still light out. He bid farewell before sprinting to his car to avoid getting completely drenched and you waved from inside the doorway, flinching when he peels out of your driveway like he was Brian O'Conner from the ‘Fast & Furious’ franchise.

Sighing, you stood in your doorway for a bit longer, listening to the rain and watching the reflections in the puddles dance. This was the part you hated most— the emptiness that follows the end of social interaction. You were used to being alone, and the longer you were alone the more used to it you became. However, the small instances when you were able to talk to another person, be near them, smile and laugh with them… they reminded you that humans were codependent on each other. You needed other people. As much as you were physically pained to be near them, you needed them. As you spent more time in isolation from the world, the more you yearned to be normal.

The sound of a blunt object hitting the glass of your window wall had you spinning on you heel out of reflex. As Jungkook had teased you earlier, it was common for birds to fly into the large window panes. More often than not, they were fine and they flew off. But every once in a while, they injured themselves, and you took it upon yourself to assess their injuries and making them comfortable if need be.

So, imagine your surprise when there wasn’t a small, winged creature on your back patio, but rather a tall, soaked, handsome boy with his palm pressed against your French doors. You blinked a few times for good measure, hoping this was just an illusion and that you weren’t currently looking at your sickly neighbor with the weird readings standing in the rain outside your house. When you realized he was just going to continue to stand there looking into your house until you greeted him, you quickly shut your front door and hastily made your way over to let him in.

As you got close, you realized there was a buzzing in the air, like it was vibrating, again in blips like radar. You recognized this as anxiety or nervousness and quickly deduced that it was coming from your neighbor. You paused before opening the door— you didn’t know this man; you’d barely met him more than once and only heard him speak a single time, and it wasn’t even to you. Plus, you still couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling you got whenever he was within your range; there was too much similar between how you felt about the boy in front of you and the thing you saw that night. Were you really about to let him into your house?

Almost like he could feel your hesitation, his hand slipped from the door and he looked at the ground dejectedly. A hole appeared in you doubt at this innocent act, and a quick, shooting pain pierced your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was your own guilt setting in or his emotions afflicting you, but you opened the door without another lingering moment to think about how bad of an idea this was.

‘He’s sick and shouldn’t be in the rain,’ You told yourself as you now stood in front of this near-stranger without the protective barrier of your glass door. You swallowed, your own nerves now wreaking havoc on your body, though the dark-haired boy in front of you look more shocked and more nervous than you did. In fact, if you didn’t get him to calm down soon, his nerves would probably cause you to throw up. And the fact that his emotions only appeared like explosions in the atmosphere around you wasn’t helping. Still, the way he looked down at his feet rather than at you, just…

“H-hello…?” You greeted; your uncertainty evident in your shaken speech. He made the smallest movement, like he was flinching at the sound of your voice and you almost wanted to backtrack. Good lord he was skittish. “What, uh, what are you doing here? I-I mean, can I help you?” Fumbling over your words wasn’t new for you, but for some reason you were especially aware of your tongue’s missteps at the moment.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating you surmised, before peeking up at you through his wet bangs. You made eye contact and— sweet heavens— you forgot about the alluring abyss that was his gaze. It only lasted for a moment before he looked at his feet again, which, you finally noticed, were completely bare.

“You said…” Now it was your turn to be startled; only now remembering how deep and velvet-like his voice was, even with how soft-spoken he currently was. “…that I could come….” He shifted, his nervousness beating around you like drums as you let his words sink in. You said he could come… you said he could come? When did you—

“Oh, um, well my house isn’t too far from yours…He’s welcome to stop by from time-to-time if he’s able… It’d be no problem… It’d be nice to have company every once-in-a-while.”

You suddenly remembered that, yes, you had invited him to visit you during your interaction Monday afternoon. At the time, you had your reasons, reasons that you couldn’t remember for the life of you at the moment. What on earth possessed you to tell a stranger it was fine to wander over to your house just because you were neighbors?!

And yet, the way his large body looked so small in front of you, like he was pleading with you to let him in…

“I-I did…” You relaxed your face enough to smile at him, your nerves still eating at you and a headache starting to set in from the intensity of his. You stepped aside to let him in, to which his head shot up and his eyes widened— you suppose he didn’t think you would actually let him in, but the sudden, yet agreeable change in his emotional blips was enough to tell you that he was relieved, pleased even, as he stepped in from the rain. “I should probably get you a towel, huh?”

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Double Trouble

Arthur Curry x Plus Size/Chubby Reader x Mera 

Imagine: You agree to go out with Mera and Arthur but they can’t seem to keep their hands off you. 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, heavy touching, implied smut

- requested -

Masterlist

It had been the hardest moment of you life when Arthur and Mera had announced their relationship to you but it was the best day ever when they told you that they wanted you to be an equal part of it. You’d grown up with Arthur pretty much all your life and you had been inseparable. Even into adulthood, you two could be found together wherever you went and you had probably loved him the entire time. But when Arthur went to Atlantis and came back with Mera, you had been confused and jealous. You’d been jealous of her beauty and the way Arthur was completely taken with her after knowing her less than a week. But you were confused because you had found yourself as attracted to her as you were with Arthur. 

They literally looked like the ultimate power couple and you had backed off from them, avoiding their efforts to talk to you. When you finally got cornered by the both of them, that's when they hit you with their big news. You could remember it like it was yesterday. 

You grunted a little as you carried a heavy box of vegetables from the back of your truck into the back entrance into the kitchen of your small restaurant. Yeah, your job wasn't quite as glamorous as you'd hoped it to be. You turned around to get another box when you jumped back from the sight of Mera and Arthur standing in front of you, “Jesus Christ! Don’t sneak up on people like that, god damn.” Arthur outright laughed at your reaction while Mera only held a small smile of amusement on her face.

You sighed and looked at them, “Well spit it out then, what do you want?” “Don’t be like that, you’re the one that has been avoiding us.” You rolled your eyes at Arthur before walking between them to pick up the next box of stock. Arthur moved to the side to be out of your way and crossed him arms over his chest. “Mera and I are together and-” “You came all the way here just to tell me that, don’t you have better things to do than to boast about your relationship status?” 

Arthur groaned out of frustration, “If you’d just let me finish, then maybe I can get to the point.” This time, Mera stepped forward and placed her hand onto your shoulder to get you to turn to her. You wanted to hate her, but you couldn’t. She didn’t do anything wrong, none of them did. Trying not to let your emotions get the best of you, you stood and crossed your arms over your chest, the position being a little uncomfortable due to the puffy coat you were wearing. Your eyes flickered between the two before looking down at the ground. 

“We know how you feel about us and we want you to know that we both feel the same way. So, if you’ll have us, we’d like you to join us.” You furrowed your eyebrows, an angry expression on your face, were they playing some kind of prank on you? Instead of making a big scene, you scoffed, pushing past them both to get to your truck, “Yeah right, nice one guys but you’ll have to try harder than that to fool me.” 

Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You were turned to face him and Mera was quick to step close to your other side. Almost ironically, you’d never felt as small as you did right now. Arthur leaned down and kissed you gently, while you felt a delicate hand running fingers through your hair. You panted softly when Arthur pulled away, “You’re crazy.” Arthur chuckled, “Yeah, ain’t we all?” 

That was three months ago and you’ve been slowly warming up to the idea that maybe it was going to work out just like they said it would. Because of your work and the fact that Arthur was an actual king now, there wasn't much time to spend with Mera and Arthur. Until now, you’d never been on a proper date with them. But now Arthur and Mera were spending a couple weeks on land and they wanted to spoil you as much as possible before they had to return back to Atlantis for their royal duties. 

Arthur told you that he was going to pick you up with Mera at about seven and told you that you should dress comfortable. For the past hour or so, you’ve just been sat on your bed in your towel, staring at your closet as if the perfect outfit was just going to fly out of it. You finally got up and started raiding through your closet. The weather was a little warm so you didn't have to worry about covering up too much. It was so difficult to pick an outfit that looked like you hadn't spent hours thinking if it was too much, except that was exactly what you were doing. You sighed before giving up and going with your trust jeans and a low cut, long sleeved grey shirt. It was one of your favourite shirts, because even though it was kind of plain, it showed off just the right amount of cleavage for you. You put on your black, heeled ankle boots and put on your black leather jacket. 

When it came to make up, you had never been very adventurous with it so you just put on some eyeshadow, mascara and a little bit of lipgloss. You styled your hair just how you liked it and went downstairs to wait for the knock on your door. You didn't have to wait very long before you heard a couple sets of footprints on your porch and a familiar heavy knock on your door. You got up and walked to the door, opening it to see how they looked although you knew that they would look good. They always did, you found it the tiniest bit unfair at times.

Arthur let out a low whistle at the sight of you, “ Damn, mami, I’ve missed that ass.” Mera nudged Arthur aside so she could step forward and wrap her arms around your waist and place a soft kiss on your lips, “I missed you as well, though not just your ass.” You laughed and let them lead you out of your house and into Arthur’s car. You and Mera sat in the back, Mera didn't like having one of you in the back so she sat with you in the back, having no problem with leaving Arthur by himself in the front. 

Mera held your hand on her lap while Arthur was driving and she traced patterns into the back of your hand, “I’m glad we have you all to ourselves for these next two weeks, my love.” You smiled, “Well, it’s not like you have any competition to be worried about.” Mera smirked, “Of course not, because everyone knows you’re ours.” She leaned over and cupped your cheek with her other hand, pulling you close for a passionate kiss. Arthur glanced up at the driver’s mirror and grinned, “You girls starting without me? That’s not very fair.” Mera pulled away and licked her bottom lip that had your lipgloss on it, “I just couldn't help myself.” 

When the car stopped, you got out of the car and recognised the place as a bar you and Arthur used to visit frequently but you hadn't really had the time to visit lately. You’d missed the place. Arthur wrapped his arm around your waist and Mera intertwined your fingers with the hand on your other side, the three of you walking inside. The owner knew you and Arthur pretty well so he didn't really ask any questions about the three of you, just glad to see you both happy. You told Mera to go get a table for you three while you and Arthur got the drinks. 

Arthur stood with his arm around your waist still but you could feel his arm dropping lower and lower until his hand was openly groping your ass. You nudged him with your shoulder but he only smirked, “Hey, you cant expect me to keep my hands to myself when you wear those jeans.” Rolling your eyes, you pulled away from him to take yours and Mera’s drinks to your table, sitting next to Mera on one side and Arthur sat on the other side of Mera. That was, until Mera needed to go to the bathroom so you shifted and moved to sit next to Arthur and Mera sat on the other side of you when she came back. 

The three of you talked about random things, but mostly Mera wanted to know what each of you were like when you were younger. “Arthur was a little shit in all honesty. I don't know how I put up with you.” Arthur pretended to be offended but you felt his hand on your thigh, “Maybe that’s true, but if I wasn't a little shit, then I wouldn't be very good at scaring your boyfriends away.” You swatted at his hand but the smirk on his face told you that he had very little intentions of letting go. 

Mera smiled at the two of you and moved her chair closer to you, her hand going onto your other thigh. You bit your lip and looked down under the table where your saw both their hands slowly moving back and forth on your thighs, inching their way higher each time. “I really don't think this is the place to do this, you guys.” Arthur grinned, “That mean you have another place in mind?” Mera moved closer to press her chest against your arm, her other hand twirling a strand of your hair around her finger, “Forgive us for being a tad too excited, it’s been too long since we've seen you.” “It was only a few weeks,” Mera smiled, “Exactly.” 

You kept your attention on Mera, watching her bite her lip as she looked you up and down and you cleared your throat. You held both of their wrists before they could move their hands any higher, “Lets go then, my place.” You don't think you’ve seen Arthur willingly leave a place that serves alcohol so quickly but in this situation, you weren't complaining. The three of you go into Arthur’s car and as soon as the engine started, Mera was on you. She leaned in close to you and kissed you deeply until you broke away for air and she trailed kisses all over your neck. Your head was tilted back and you bit your bottom lip as you made eye contact with Arthur through the mirror, “That’s hot. Never thought I’d live this fantasy so soon.” Mera rolled her eyes, “Shut up Arthur. Drive quicker and you’ll get your turn.” 

You closed your eyes as you felt Mera’s hand slide under your shirt and cup your breast over your bra. Arthur cleared his throat, “Don't touch her ass, I get first dibs on that.” Mera mumbled against your neck, “No promises, she looks too irresistible right now.” You had just started to feel another hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans when you felt the car stop. You realised that you were outside your house so you were quick to get out and you were eagerly followed by Arthur and Mera. 

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you felt two strong hands at your waist and you were turned around and picked up. Arthur wrapped your legs around his hips as his hands went to grab your ass through your jeans, “Mm, you have no idea how long I've waited to get my hands on this ass.” “I got a pretty good idea, we going to the bedroom or what?” Arthur grinned as he carried you upstairs, Mera close behind, taking her clothes off on the way, “I thought you’d never ask.”

A/N: Comment if you want a part two with smut

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Part 1)

[ my masterlist ] Part 2

Warnings: angst, few mentions of death

Word count: 5, 105

Summary: You are Karasuno's volleyball manager, and when you tag along to their first match against Aoba Johsai, you reconnect with your childhood friend, Oikawa Tooru. A relationship soon develops, along with feelings that weren't present before. Problems soon arise though, because of his reputation, and your troubled past that he didn't know about. 

Everything happens for a reason.

That's what you always told yourself, realizing that one choice you made could lead to endless possibilities and situations you never thought you would find yourself in. It was far too easy to slip up, and let the world you had spent years creating turn to dust and fall between your finger tips.

You learned that the hard way, yet you were strong enough to pick yourself back up.

Joining the Karasuno Volleyball club as their manager came out of desperation on your end. In truth, it was a favor for your friend Kiyoko, who knew you were going through a tough time. When she explained the challenges, but emphasized that she couldn't do it all herself, you decided it was a good way to take your mind off things, while also helping others. Kiyoko was quiet, but it was her way of showing you she cared, by sharing her world with you and providing an outlet.

You needed something to do. Something that you could focus your energy on to forget your ex-boyfriend, the boy that had broken your heart. Along with that emotional trauma, you also had to deal with a devastating death in your family, your younger brother. Within the blink of an eye, those two events had changed you as a person. For two months, you had locked yourself away in your room to deal with it. And those who cared for you had started to grow worried.

That's why you were beyond relieved when you first walked into that gym, bombarded by underclassmen that soon became your friends. They were so happy, they were so passionate. Their optimistic nature began to inspire you in other aspects of your life.

Knowing you had a rambunctious group of boys to take care of, all the while alongside your friend, the massive hole in your heart began to repair itself.

As the weeks passed, the bond between you and the Karasuno volleyball club grew stronger, and you found yourself falling back into your healthy habits. You were smiling again, you were laughing again.

"What are you thinking about Y/N?" Hinata surprised you suddenly with a question. He had practically teleported to your side so quickly that you jumped.

"Oh!" You laughed, looking down at him with a smile to mask the once nostalgic expression that had graced your face. "I'm just really proud of you guys for making it this far."

The two of you stared down at the polished wood floors, the rows of stands, and the many, many schools that were preparing their fan sections for their upcoming games. It was the fall tournament, and the boys had won their first couple games—but now they were going to face an strong opponent- Aoba Johsai.

"Not you guys, it's us." Hinata said, conviction heavy within his tone. "We couldn't have done this without you."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you nudged him. "You're laying it on thick today."

Grinning, the orange-haired first year gave you a thumbs up. "I just want our Senpai to know that she's appreciated."

"-you have done a lot for us." Nishinoya joined in as the rest of the group caught up with you and Hinata.

All the boys had heard about your brother's accident. The trauma of it all was still looming over your head, threatening to take over your conscious at any moment. Perhaps the boys knew that being able to help and take care of them was a replacement for the family member you had lost. It felt good to be apart of a group again, with people who appreciated your time and efforts.

"Then I hope we win today." You made sure to use the inclusive pronouns. "So you didn't waste my time!"

"There she is!" Tanaka laughed a little too loudly. "Stop looking so nervous and keep making those jokes."

"I'm not nervous." You puffed your lip out, realizing the entire team had now surrounded you.

"You look really nervous." Kageyama finally spoke in monotone, seeming to deal with his own nerves in a completely different way.

"Okay fine." You grumbled. "I'm nervous."

The boys laughed.

"Why?" Kiyoko joined the huddle, looking concerned as she gazed at your face. You were trying really hard to remain calm.

Awkwardly twirling your hair between your finger tips, you tried to avoid locking eyes with anyone. "I don't want to put pressure on any of you-"

"Just tell us, it's okay Y/N." Suga's calm and reassuring voice whispered from behind you. The look in his eyes conveyed that he already knew what you were thinking, because that was also what was on his mind. This was your last year. Your last tournament. If you lost; it would be over.

"I really need you guys to win." You said. "Because I don't want this to be our last game."

It was true, when you thought about it for long enough, the threat of your time in the Karasuno volleyball club could be over in an instant.

Kiyoko gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, knowing you had grown to love the sport, and it's players, as much as she had. This moment was bittersweet.

"We will try our best, Y/N." Hinata said without his usual smile. Whenever that happened, you knew he was serious.

A brief moment of silence hung over the group, as if their situation had finally sank in.

You finally lifted your head to meet everyone's gaze. "Thank you all, really. Being apart of this team has helped me more than I can explain."

All of the boys replied instantly, more than happy that you were there with them. You could tell you meant a lot to them. Well, except with Tsukishima— but you knew you would eventually get there.

"Alright everyone, let's get to work." Coach Ukai encouraged as the tender moment faded. "We can't disappoint our managers."

He nodded at you, and you smiled back. When you really wanted to, you were a great pep talker.

"Now, Use your looks to distract our opponents!" Tanaka teased as he walked past you. Teasingly, you stuck your foot out to try and trip him- but his fast reflexes allowed him to casually step over it.

"Nice try!" He boasted.

Giggling from the interaction, you and Kiyoko crossed the volleyball court and to the coaching staff benches.

"Third years now have the ability to participate in the spring tournaments." Kiyoko said as the guys wandered off to begin warm-ups. "So if you want to, we can come back next semester."

"Really?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"I could tell you were getting sentimental."

Feigning discomfort, you slumped next to her dramatically. "Knowing that beforehand would have been nice. I just embarrassed myself in front of the team."

"I think they needed to hear that from you." She said with honesty.

The genuine expression she wore warmed your heart. You and Kiyoko were incredibly different, yet incredibly similar. You always appreciated the time you spent with her, she was an important friend.

Your eyes drifted to the opposite side of the net. The team still hadn't arrived for warm-ups.

"We're playing Aoba Johsai right?" You asked, eyes searching the gym for their supposed school colors.

"Yes." Kiyoko had already immersed herself with writing down notes on her clipboard.

The name Aoba Johsai felt so familiar, as if you knew someone who attended that high school. Yet, you couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Though you were well-known at Karasuno, you were unsure about other high schools in the area. You weren't the type of girl to care about people you didn't interact with on a daily basis, even if you were considered popular.

You just went about your days trying to be kind, and trying to make a name for yourself. The last thing you wanted to be known for was what happened earlier in the year. You didn't want to be pitied.

But sometimes, the people from your past are the only ones that can heal you. Sometimes, it's better to reflect and appreciate everything that happened, even if it hurts.

Everything happens for a reason. Even if that reason doesn't seem clear at first glance.

The gym doors squeaked open, and in waltzed Karasuno's opponent- Aoba Johsai.

Though only a portion of the fan section had arrived, excited cheers sounded from the stands. You scowled, wishing your classmates had come to support your team. It definitely would have had an effect on the players, since half of them loved praise and affection.

Starting from the bottom already put you at a disadvantage. Unlike your opponents, Karasuno had a reputation to build back up. Every game counted. Every game mattered.

With that thought in mind, you had lost focus through all the noise. You could feel your nerves creeping back, threatening to overtake your smile, one that was needed as a morale booster for your players.

"Look pretty." Kiyoko teased, mocking Tanaka's ridiculous suggestion. Not every boy got worked up about girl managers with good looks like him and Nishinoya.

But still, out of habit, you ran a hand through your hair and flipped it behind your shoulders. Though you weren't the star of the show, you could still feel eyes on your back.

You needed to keep your composure. Because of her extended time as the volleyball club manager, Kiyoko has perfected her posture.

"I'm going to get some water." You whispered, standing up from the bench. That would definitely be the best option since your throat was starting to tighten.

Walking quickly, you reached the shared water table that was provided to both teams. A great plus when participating in tournaments.

Out of curiosity, as you grabbed a water bottle and took a sip, your eyes drifted to the other side of the net, where you were met with a striking, familiar, set of deep brown eyes.

For a moment that seemed to stretch past time limitations, you stood frozen in place.

"Tooru?" You whispered, voice drowned out by the cheering and movements of the players on court.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. It had been years since you parted ways.

Oikawa had been staring at you before you realized it was him. His look of astonishment quickly switched to one of wonder once he realized your lips had formed his name. "Y/N?" He mouthed back, flashing his notoriously handsome smile.

Without thinking, you crossed the threshold to the other side of the court.

"Oh my god-" You managed to choke, stopping abruptly in front of his towering figure. "I never thought..."

His expression wavered, as if it was begging you to follow through with the natural actions that filled your mind.

As if you had done it the day before, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, you didn't care what anyone else thought about your actions.

"Hi again." He chuckled at how rash you had become, knowing you must have been overwhelmed to see him with how openly you were showing your emotions. Curling his arms around your torso, Oikawa chuckled in your ear. "You look great."

You pulled away, studying the changes he had made to his appearance. He had grown into his stalking height, one that he used to get teased for. His hair was silkier, his eyes wiser.  "So do you!"

The boy's touch lingered. "Wow." He breathed, short on words. "I never thought I'd see you again, but I really hoped."

You met his piercing gaze, one that seemed to flicker across parts of your body that a normal friend would restrict themselves from staring.  "Me too."

Your excitement passed though, as soon as you realized that the eyes of both teams were on you. Darting your eyes away in embarrassment from your rash actions, you recognized another familiar face. The regret that had built up inside of you dissipated within an instant.

"Haijime!" You waved, beckoning him to come closer.

"Hi, Y/N." He smiled, also bending down to give you a friendly hug. A hug that was much different than Oikawa's.

Teasingly, you continued the conversation. "I see that you two are the same. Still obsessed with volleyball."

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Duh, of course. But what's more surprising is that you're a volleyball manager?"

"Yeah, I never thought that would happen." Iwaizumi added. "We inspired you, didn't we?"

Grinning from ear to ear, you nodded, reflecting on the hours that you had practiced with them. Before you had moved, the three of you would spend hours at the gym. Joining the Karasuno volleyball club had rekindled your love for the sport. And the boys were surprised that you had so much previous knowledge, which was now obvious that it had come from Oikawa.

Though what saddened you was that you had forgotten all about that. Your wholesome memories had been replaced with something far more grim.

"Hey!" The Aoba Johsai coach yelled from the opposite side. "Get back to business, all of you!"

The three of you turned and noticed that the rest of the team had stopped what they were doing, and seemed to be gossiping about your relationship to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You immediately blushed, your contempt flooding right back in.

"Oi! don't look at her like that! She's not a piece of meat!" Oikawa pointed aggressively at his teammates, causing them to scatter and pretend they had been invested in their warm up practices the entire time.

"You're just mad that everyone is staring at her, and not you." Iwaizumi gave him a slap on the back for good measure. "Focus now."

Iwaizumi wandered off, leaving you one more brief moment with Oikawa. He glanced behind him, then back to you, looking somewhat regretful. It was most likely because the outcome of this game was going to be disappointing for one of you.

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" He asked, yet it came out more desperate. In a way that caused your heart to hammer in your chest. You really couldn't figure out if it was because of him, or if it was because of all the eyes you could still feel pointed towards you.

Throughout your younger years, Oikawa had boosted your confidence, and pushed you outside of your comfort zone. But things were slightly different now. Someone as outgoing as him could tell you had become timid, for reasons he didn't know yet, but hoped he would eventually figure out.

"Good luck, Tooru." You smiled. "You'll need it."

All he could do was flash you a devilish smile.

Oikawa had always been a flirt. It was somewhat comforting to know that his bubbly personality hadn't changed. At least on the surface. He had always commanded the attention of everyone in the room, which made your more reserved nature recoil in embarrassment.

But now, at least on the surface, you could handle it.

Because your parents moved all those years ago, you had never gained the opportunity to tell him how much he had meant to you. But as you watched his presence command the movements of his team, you realized that now was your chance.

Turning back to your teammates, who were all as equally surprised, you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry for interrupting." You apologized.

"Y/N, you know Oikawa?" Kageyama was the first one to ask.

"Y-yeah... we were friends in middle school, before I moved here."

"Interesting." Hinata dramatically set his chin in his hand, stroking it as if he had a goatee. "Y/N-chan knows both the kings!"

Kageyama immediately smacked the back of Hinata's head. "Shut up dumbass!" He scolded.

You stifled a laugh, encouraging them to continue on practicing, reassuring them that you were still crossing your fingers for Karasuno to win.

"Y/N took my suggestion a little too seriously." Tanaka sighed, watching you shyly make your way back over to the coaching bench.

"She's so popular and beautiful." Nishinoya added. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really wish I was Oikawa right now."

Feeling more pumped up than you had before, you shouted a cheer from the sideline. "Don't disappoint me boys!"

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Knowing that volleyball meant the world to Oikawa, you were somewhat relived that Aoba Johsai had won the match.

You would be there for your team in the end, but in this moment, you couldn't be there for Oikawa. You hadn't been for years. That's why you were relived, knowing you couldn't stand to see him upset.

"Don't look at me like that." He teased.

"Like what?" You deadpanned, trying hard to remain upset with him, since he had just ruined Karasuno's chance at participating in the fall nationals.

"Like you're trying to hate me. Because I know you can't."

Finally cracking a smile, you averted your gaze with embarrassment. "You're right."

Oikawa instinctively stepped closer. The proximity caused your heart to pound in your chest, surprisingly because you had never felt like this with him before.

"Even if we lost, I still would have felt that I won." The boy didn't need to explain what he was referring to, because you knew it was about you. It was because you were in his life again.

Trying to remain calm, you scrunched your nose. "Now you're laying it on thick."

Seeming to accept the challenge, Oikawa continued with his flirtations. "I find it strange that I usually get everything I want, but I somehow never got you." The third year laughed sadly, staring up at the pale blue sky. He had always hoped to see you again, but he had never expected it to be in this way.

"You don't even know me anymore." You said, not intending for your words to come out so harshly.

You were right. Oikawa hated it, but you were. And for some reason it made you that much more attractive. Personality wise, and looks wise. Your maturated appearance didn't help his thoughts from wandering.

He had missed your presence more than he had realized. Knowing that you were going to be in his life again gave him a strange sense of hope. It seemed that he had been holding onto them at dream since you parted ways at the end of junior high.

Your parents moved away, taking you along with them. Since your childhood friend was no longer your neighbor and you didn't go to the same high school, your friendship prematurely ended.

Oikawa wish he had tried harder to keep contact, but something told him you might be better off without him. He was going through his own troubles, and needed to focus on himself.

"I should have called you, or something... I don't know." Oikawa admitted. Though it had been years, he still felt comfortable enough around you to speak his mind.

You were the only girl he could ever do that with. He had searched far and wide to replace you, but he always ended up empty handed. Perhaps he should have searched for you instead.

"It's okay." You assured, knowing that life had moved fast for the both of you. You would never hold a grudge against him for that, being young and naive, trying desperately to fit into your new environments. It also didn't help that neither if you had cellphones when you moved away, therefore making it practically impossible to keep in contact. "We were both busy."

Oikawa knew you were putting on an act, but it also seemed genuine. To him, you had always been confusing, your thoughts and emotions so complex that it frightened him. Girls like you had always been hard to find. Ones that were able to explain their resonating so well that it caused them to reflect on their own actions and behaviors. You had always kept Oikawa in check.

But right now, the spirit that he had grown to love was barely visible. He could tell you were happy to see him, but something inside you had been wounded. Whatever it was, Oikawa could tell you were hurting. And every fiber in his being wanted to fix it.

"What happened to you, Y/N?" He asked suddenly, the look in his eyes convincing you that you had done a terrible job concealing your emotions.

Averting your gaze, you shifted awkwardly on your toes. "A lot has happened, Tooru. Too much to explain now."

You could hear the boys loading into the bus, some of them shouting your name in reminder to hurry up your conversation. You glanced back and saw that Kiyoko was waiting outside the vehicle for your return.

Smiling to dispel the haunting memories, you continued. "I would rather hear about you for now. You must be really happy that you won."

"I worked hard...I worked my ass off for years to get where I am today." He kicked a rock across the cement sidewalk. "Watching Kageyama play so well helped me realize that I had been slacking. I guess I forgot what that feels like."

"But?" You pushed him to continue.

Oikawa grimaced, and for a moment, you wished you hadn't asked that question. "Our next opponent will be harder."

It was true. Oikawa had worked hard all his life. He hadn't been blessed with raw talent like his underclassmen Kageyama, but he followed his dream, he had followed his heart.

For some reason though, as he stared at your glowering expression, he began to second guess himself. Maybe he had been doing it wrong.

"Don't give up then." You said, voice wavering with conviction that surprised him. "Whether you were born with it or not, you still have talent. There's still ways to utilize that after High-school. If you really love volleyball then you will continue."

Oikawa's eyes widened.

"This is strange coming from you, who's been rubbing off on you?"

You chuckled. "Nobody. I just know what to say to you."

You were right again. You encouraged him in the most perfect way, but you never praised him like the others. Oikawa's mother always told him to never accept too much praise, and to never get too full of himself.

You were real. You weren't fake like the other girls who only fawned over him for his looks. He would have preferred you to watch him from the stands with genuine interest for the sport, unlike the other girls who were only there for him.

Why?

Because it was the truth. And it was normal. People who work hard to get to a certain point, stop once they reach it. But that's not what he had done. He kept trying. The boy tried harder than he needed to become the best.

No matter what anyone said, Oikawa knew he had to keep trying. He couldn't let his pride get the best of him like it had in the match against Karasuno.

Just by looking his way, he knew what you were thinking. Only a girl as special as you could make him realize that. A girl that had known him from the beginning.

He laughed at first, causing your eyes to drift towards him. You didn't seem surprised, instead, you were calm. "Well, I'm glad that hasn't changed."

You smiled as your hair rippled to the side from a gust of wind. "I missed you, Tooru." The tone of your voice was filled with hope, directly asking him to make the first move, and to not let you leave without a promise to see you again.

"I think it's finally time that you gave me your number." Oikawa held his phone out for you. You tried desperately to hide the blush that was creeping along your face. Everything he did was flirtatious, yet in a way that was childish and made you remember how you used to play with him back in primary school.

After typing in your number, you handed him back his phone. The entire time, you could feel his eyes on you, studying, lingering.

"Well," you apologized, gesturing behind you. "I can't keep them waiting."

"Go ahead, Y/N. I'll text you."

"I'll be waiting." You whispered, barely audible enough for him to hear. Turning on your heels and jogging towards the bus, you glanced behind your shoulder one last time, as if you were afraid to let him escape your gaze. Times were different now, you would see him again. You were sure of it.

You flashed him a smile.

Oikawa shoved his hands in his pockets. You would never know that you had already won over his heart. You had all those years ago, and your presence within him had remained.

Then you left, hoping and praying that he would keep his promise. Hoping and praying that nobody had taken your place.

True love wasn't real, you knew that well enough from your past experiences. Yet deep down, your heart claimed differently. You could anticipate what was going to happen.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Four months ago

Your hands trembled.

Your thoughts raced as you swung your legs over the railing of your balcony, gazing at the stars that twinkled brightly in the sky.

Your bare feet brushed the plants underneath you, fresh dew gathering in their crevices.

You managed to smile.

It was a quiet and beautiful night. The moon illuminated the oak trees so mysteriously, it would have intrigued you on any other night.

But right now...

All you wanted to do was forget him.

It had been almost a month since the breakup, but you couldn't seem to forgive his iniquitous mistake.

You were a relatively calm and understanding person. But his betrayal had left you in shambles. Haruki was his name, and he had cheated on you with a girl in a different class- who knew that he was your boyfriend. A girl that hated you for no reason, only because you had something that she did not.

You had never been in a situation like this. Nobody had ever taught you how to handle the feelings that came along after heartbreak.

Your supposed first love had cheated on you, yet you didn't know how to respond. How could love just... disappear? Did he ever even love you? Had you wasted the last two years of your life on him?

You were bitter, angry, and confused. Time was supposed to heal wounds, and it did, but only to an extent.

You were a completely different person now. Some would say stronger, but some would say weaker. You had been out of touch for quite some time. And now you were finally sinking back into reality.

But what made you the most addled, was that you couldn't remember his face. It made you so angry to realize that you could forget a face you had studied for so long. Your stomach felt sick as you tried to remember the color of eyes, the taste of his lips, his smile, anything... But you were blank. You had already started to forget about the man you loved, but with good reason.

You had been so lost. And that's why it hurt so bad. You had been vulnerable, you had been taken advantage of. You felt sick knowing you didn't break from his spell on your own.

You winced, partly from the nighttime breeze, and partly from the cold hard truth. Haruki was the liar. But somehow you felt like it was your fault. How could you ever trust someone like that again? You had fallen head over heels for someone who was way under your league, pouring all of your love into the relationship.

You had tried your best to make it work, you had given him everything. All of your time, all your emotions, and all of your body.

But it was never enough. Why were you not enough?

You had made a fool of yourself. You had begged him to stay, because you felt guilty about letting him take your virginity. Haruki had cheated on you, thrown your love away like it was nothing, and left without seeming to care. But the thing was, you still cared.

You could only hold yourself together around your family and friends. But when you were alone like this, your mind drifted away.

You regretted the decisions you'd made with him. You really did. You had blindly followed a boy into a destructive relationship, thinking that he could be a man. Thinking you could fix him, and thinking you could make him better.

But if someone doesn't want to change, they won't. It hurt like hell. Because that's when you realized that people always lie.

Your love was wasted on a boy who didn't deserve it.

Guilt crept into your subconscious. Though you didn't want to admit it, you felt that you had disappointed whoever you were going to end up with in the future.

You leaned against the metallic railing, ears perking up at the undertone of cicadas. They sang mindlessly into the night, like you once had.

It wasn't meant to be, and that was alright. Yet it was still painful, the memories causing tears to prick at your eyelids. You felt helpless at times like this. Why couldn't you just forget about everything and move on?

You desperately wanted to, but deep inside, something was urging for you to never forget this pain. You had spent countless nights in this very position, staring up at the stars, cloudy sky or clear.

And it finally spelled out for you. You were never meant to brush these emotions aside. Instead, you urged to hold them close to your heart. You would never forget your mistake, so you would never make it again.

You had learned, you were stronger. You were different.

You had to put on a show for far too long, masking the pain Haruki had caused you until it was too late.

Now your broken heart was already healing.

Looking up into the black sky once again, you smiled for the first time in days. Tomorrow you would be looking at the same stars through a different lens.

You were changing, while he would stay the same. That was the greatest revenge of all. You would live on without him.

That was what you had convinced yourself until your mother called you the next day, and relayed the devastating news that your brother had died in an accident.

And just like that, two of the most important people in your life were gone.

And back into the spiral you fell.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Tag list!! lmk if you want to be added for the next part <33

@ardorwrites-hq-mha​ @cuddlyasahi​ @vventure @writeiolite​ @allywritesimagines​ @benewol​

Five times Alex surprised Forrest and one time he didn’t

Fourth Chapter! I can't believe it!

This chapter is all about Buffy. It took me longer because writing pet-human dynamic is just sooooo hard.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Sometimes Forrest thought he should just rename Buffy Long to Buffy Manes and call it a day. Other times he was convinced that Alex only stuck around for the dog. He hadn’t know it was possible to feel jealous for both parties while simultaneously feeling love towards them when he saw two people (in this case a person and a dog) together, but Alex had stirred up so many raw and new feelings in him that it really shouldn’t come as a surprise.

So there he was, stood in his doorway, coming home from an exhausting work meeting, and was entirely engulfed in this swamp of feelings in his chest he almost stopped breathing for a minute.

Alex, wearing a white sweater and some yoga pants that seemed to be made of the softest material in the whole world, hair a mess, face relaxed and lying down on his stomach; half under Alex’s body, being held loosely but securely by his right arm, was a soft snoring Buffy.

They were not even lying together on the sofa, but at the foot of the sofa, on the floor, Buffy’s favorite chew toy next to them. Like they had played together for a really long time, both so happy they hadn’t wanted to stop, until they were too tired to even get on the sofa, they had to just lie down right there and fall to sleep, while cuddling.

And to think: Alex never wanted to sleep anywhere other than in the bed because the bed would be nicer to his leg; and Buffy never wanted to sleep next to anyone other than Forrest because she was a PRINCESS like that.

Safe to say it was the most beautiful thing Forrest had ever seen in his whole life.

——————————

More often than not, Forrest woke up to some (one-sided) conversation like this one.

“No, Buffy, you can’t eat that.”

“Don’t give that look, girl. You know I’m just looking out for you. You need healthier diet.”

Forrest smiled. Alex was so gonna lose that battle, again.

“Stop it. I know it always works on your papa, but it’s not gonna work on me.”

Well that’s a lie.

A fond sigh.

“OK, you win. But you have to walk with me a LOT longer today if we’re gonna burn all the extra calories. And this is non-negotiable.”

Yeah, bring out the captain voice. It would do absolutely nothing to the dog except maybe receiving some halfhearted tail wiggling.

And also getting Forrest hot and bothered.

He walked out to the kitchen, stood behind Alex, threw a glance over his shoulder to Buffy, and yep, she was happily eating her treats and totally ignoring Alex’s pretend glares. He hid his smile in between Alex’s shoulder blades, hands reaching around to sneak under his shirt so he could roam his bare stomach, and said in a husky voice:

“Stop fat-shaming my dog and come back to bed. She’s already gotten her treats. Now it’s my turn.”

Alex turned around in his embrace, pulled him even closer so they were only a breath away and looking into each other’s eyes. Then, and only then he rolled his eyes, deliberately and dramatically, he even shook his head a little for extra effect: “Her puppy eyes, your cheeky lines. You both only have ONE move. It’s getting old real fast.”

Well, since Buffy and he both got their treats even before breakfast, he’d have to respectfully disagree.

———————————

One time he walked in on them, snuggled up in bed, and Alex was telling her about his Lizard while SHOWING HER SOME PICTURES too.

“I think you and Willow would have made great friends.” He said, a little wistful, but mostly happy, smile evident in his voice.

Buffy made a low grunting sound in her throat as if she agreed.

———————————

They went to the fair thing regularly now, like some old couple. Forrest secretly liked it. But the catch was, whenever they went there, Alex ended up buying Buffy way too many toys, clothes or little hats. It was getting ridiculous.

“Alex, this is like, the third chew bone in this month alone. She really doesn’t need it.” Forrest whined, knowing perfectly well he was fighting a losing battle.

To his surprise though, Alex dropped the bone (Buffy turned to Forrest to give him the stink eye but he ignored her like a champ), and picked a fluffy teddy instead, which, ok, slightly better, but SO NOT THE POINT.

But Alex showed it to Buffy, she gave a happy wiggling, and next thing he knew, Alex was already paying for it.

Forrest shook his head. “You don’t ever get to say I’m spoiling her again. You are like, the most doting dad ever.”

They both froze at that.

Then Alex looked down at Buffy, smiled softly, and said, “I just like seeing her happy”. He looked up again, still all soft, reached out and held Forrest’s hand. “If that makes me a doting dad, so be it.”

—————————

He changed his screensaver on his phone to a picture of Buffy hugging the teddy that night.

—————————

Alex’s ex (the ex from his military days, not the one still didn’t show up in Forrest’s presence) came to Roswell one day, he called Alex, so the three of them were having a slightly uncomfortable but overall pleasant get-together.

The ex (Bill or something) was charming, funny and friendly. He obviously didn’t hang up on Alex like some other ex so that was a plus, but he sometimes still had heat in his eyes when Alex was smiling beautifully so Forrest decided to dislike him just in principle.

The dislike quickly turned to annoyance when Bill (or something) brought up his dog.

“By the way, Charlie whined when I told him I was gonna see you and I couldn’t bring him along. I guess he still misses you.”

Alex smiled politely, “I miss him too.”

“Please”, the ex snorted, “You never really warmed up to him. You were nice to him, sure, he loved you for it. But you were just not that fond of him. I always assume maybe you’re not a dog person or something.”

OK so the ex was apparently a clueless douche. Alex was the definition of a dog person in Forrest’s opinion. He opened his mouth to just say that when a hand on his knee squeezed to stop him.

“Yeah, maybe.” Alex replied, polite smile firmly in place.

The topic didn’t come up again until B-something left.

“So you wanna explain yourself, Mr Clearly-You-Are-A-Dog-Person?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just accept that Buffy is an exception to my not-loving-dogs rule?”

Forrest pretended to consider for a second.

“Though it is a fact that Buffy is the cutest girl on earth and she can pretty much win anybody over, I know it’s not the case. So spill. Was Charlie like, secretly hating you but pretended to like you in front of his dad?”

Alex choked on his milkshake. “What terrible world do you live in? With this level of dog conspiracy?”

It was a deflecting move if he’d ever seen one. So he just waited.

After a minute, Alex caved.

“It was not Charlie. It was Blake.” OK, not Bill then.

“Me and Blake, we had this on and off relationship. At first it was just some fun, blowing off steam, some actions in the shadow, that kind of things. But it got somewhat more serious as the time passed. He was local based, so when we had leaves, we would sometimes go to his house to spend time together.”

“Charlie was usually with his sister, but Blake would bring him home during his leaves. So whenever I spent time there, Charlie was always with us.”

He paused, a fond smile for the dog, and continued, “He liked me instantly, and I liked him too. Like you said, I am a dog person, I like dogs, dogs like me.”

Forrest was confused. “So why...?”

Alex sighed. “I liked Charlie, but I couldn’t let myself get attached to him. Because I didn’t see myself stay in the relationship with Blake for a long time. So if I got too attached, and the breakup inevitably happened, it would be too hard for me to handle.”

OK, that was understandable. But meanwhile, that would mean...

The realization hit Forrest like a train he was totally dumbstruck.

Alex seemed to sense his surprise, and blushed. But he didn’t stop talking.

“I opened myself completely to Buffy, because I feel completely safe and steady when I’m with you. I don’t worry about losing her, because I don’t worry about losing you.”

Forrest swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, kissed Alex, and touched their forehead together.

“Do you think we should just rename her to Buffy Long-Manes?”

Alex laughed. “That is such a terrible name.”

He kissed back. “But I like it.”

What I thought about “Young Blood, Old Souls” from The Owl House

Salutations random people of the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. Today, I am reviewing the season one finale of The Owl House. And by the way, there are zero dislikes that I have for this episode. Any issues I could have are either petty nitpicks, or just not worth talking about. So, for the first time ever, I'm going to share my thoughts unfiltered. No likes. No dislikes. Just my thoughts on why I think this episode turned out as great as it did. And in case you couldn't guess, there are going to be enormous spoilers for the finale itself, and The Owl House in general. So consider this your last warning as we dive in!

The opening narration: I'm a sucker for fairytale esque opening narrations in stories, and that's the feeling I got when watching this scene. Sure, you could say that it's an exposition dump that tells us stuff we already know, but I don't see it that way. I see it as a technique to set the mood of the episode, while also reminding us how much of a threat the Belos can be.

And again, let's ask ourselves: How much is accurate in this small history lesson, and which parts are made up by Belos? Because who's to say that he isn't the one who wrote the book that King is reading?

No intro: This. Was a shock.

Usually shows shorten the intro to it’s first and last portions, or at the very least, flash the opening logo. Never, to my knowledge, has a series straight-up drop both the intro and the logo. To me, that is a good sign of a great episode. Because no intro tells me that the writers had so much to put in, that they didn't want to waste a single second to even flash a logo.

Not that many jokes: The jokes were another appreciated, albeit well missed, absence within the episode. Because this is the season finale. An event that, depending on what show you make, needs to be taken seriously. And while I say that The Owl House is a comedy show with drama on the side, that doesn't mean it shouldn't focus on the drama if an episode calls for it. And an adventure where Luz has to save her mentor from an emperor who turns people to stone? Yeah. That's an experience where drama has to take center stage for the time being.

Luz is serious and angry: Don't get me wrong. I love Luz for her endless optimism and her ability to find fun in whatever situation she's in. But this is not the type of episode that requires that personality. If anything, I was happier to see Luz act more seriously rather than stick to her quirky personality. Because this proves that Luz isn't some oblivious goofball who can't see the darkness in the world. It shows that she understands when to be serious if the situation calls for it. This also reveals that not only can Luz get angry, but she can get downright vengeful. Her desire to make Lilith pay is not only understandable, but it's absolutely justified. Say what you want about her now, but what Lilith did to Luz in the last episode was awful. So I can't really blame her for getting angry at the mere sight of Lilith.

Now, if Luz were to remain with this angsty personality, then I would be less than ecstatic. But it seems pretty clear to me that angry Luz is a situation-dependent side of her personality that will only come out in the more dramatic episodes. This is evident with the fact that Luz's optimism returns after Eda comes back safe and sound. So while I came to enjoy angry Luz, I'm still going to prefer happy Luz any day.

Owl Beast Eda sticks her tongue out: I love the idea that this was a part of the real Eda shining through, just because the thought of Eda fighting a curse to get under Lilith's skin is just funny to me. And Lilith sticking her tongue out too was just icing on the cake.

Belos’ is still terrifying: That's it. That's all I have to say. We get even more of a glimpse of Belos' power, and it just cements how he's the most terrifying villain that Disney has made in years. Because I saw his fight with Luz (more on that later) as Belos holding back. Which makes me wonder: WHAT THE F**K IS IT GOING TO LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S ALLOWED TO LET LOOSE?!

And if I'm being honest with you guys, I'm a little scared to find out the answer to that question.

Eda is partially the Owl Beast: This was a cheat, but an effective one. It gives Eda a chance to have actual speaking roles, while also nerfing her, so she doesn't escape. Would it have been more tragic if Eda spent the entire episode as an unintelligent monster? Maybe. But it also means Eda couldn't give Luz the portal (the most important thing in the finale) and not get to say goodbye to Luz (the most gut-wrenching scene in the finale). Say what you want about Eda being partially cursed, but I think it was a smart decision.

We meet Gus’ dad!: This might not seem like a big deal, but I certainly enjoyed it. Hell, I always appreciate it when I get to know more about the lives of characters in my favorite media. And finding out that Gus' dad is a news reporter? That's a nice reveal, even if it's not the most important thing to happen in the show.

Petrification: Sooooo, this is basically the death penalty. Let that sink in for a second. Because the world of this show, that's aimed for children, actually has a death penalty. Sure, the writers don't actually use the d-word. But turning people into stone with no way to turn them back? They might as well be dead at that point. And I actually like that The Owl House is allowed to go this dark. It raises the stakes much higher than any episode once we find out that Eda could die if Luz fails. And that's a thought I'm sure no one appreciates. Especially Luz.

Luz and King stepping on the grass: Hey, there may not be that many jokes in this episode, but that doesn't mean it isn't allowed to be hilarious. And, yeah, this got a huge laugh out of me. Both from how King and Luz look as they commit their "crime," and because of the guard's over-the-top reaction to it. It gets me everytime.

Warden Wrath’s high-pitched scream: Not much to say here other than I just thought it was funny. Because what also gets to me is when a "big scary character" does something pathetic like what Wrath did. And if you didn't hear his scream, go back to play this scene again. It's well worth it.

“Draw me a map!”: I don't know why I love this line so much. Maybe it's because Sarah-Nicole Robles' delivery made me laugh, or because it preemptively shuts up nitpickers who would ask how Luz knew where the detention center is. Either way, this was a great line.

Willow and Gus help...sort of: In the grand scheme of things, Willow and Gus didn't really do that much when helping Luz and Eda. Sure they got a crowd to chant about letting Eda go, but that effort didn't do anything to stop the petrification. Even that brief moment of standing up to the Emperor came to an end the second he showed up. Which means that it's an issue that Willow and Gus didn’t really help Luz, right? 

That would true if it wasn't for the fact that Willow and Gus didn't immediately jump at the idea of backing Luz up if she needs them. That makes these two the perfect best friends that Luz could ask for, solely on that loyalty alone. Would it have been better to see them fight alongside Luz? Maybe, but I doubt Luz would actually want her friends risking everything for her vendetta. Besides, I doubt Willow and Gus would really be that much help compared to how quickly Lilith dismissed both of them in the last episode. So while they get a C for contribution and efficiency, they get an A+ for loyalty in my book.

Eda’s goodbye to Luz: Oh, man. And I thought Eda's goodbye in "Agony of a Witch" was painful. This? This actually got me misty-eyed. And I think the reason why it's more heartbreaking this time around is that Eda is fully showing her emotions in this scene. In my "Agony of a Witch" review, I said that Eda was trying to hide how dire the situation from Luz by smiling and playing the thing off as no big deal. She fails because her eyes and her voice cracks give away all of her feelings, but she still tried nonetheless. This time, however, Eda makes it clear how serious the situation is with both her expressions and tone of voice. Probably because the last time she tried to be gentle with Luz, her apprentice threw herself into the lion's den. So as a result, it comes off as more heartbreaking, given the fact that Eda makes it clear how serious their predicament is. And the fact that she not only says a real goodbye to Luz but practically pushes her away?! Add that with the fact that they share "I love you's" to each other, and you got a scene that just tears at the heartstrings.

Luz crying again: NnnnnnnOPE!!!

I already said that the single image of Luz crying was enough to break me. So seeing her just break down and sob her eyes out is more than enough to hurt the soul, man!

IT HURTS DA SOUL!

“Talk to the glyph, WITCH!”: You know for a FACT that if Luz was allowed to swear, she would use a very similar sounding word to describe Lilith. And I love that implication!

Luz can’t do magic in the human realm: Woah boy! It was one thing when we all predicted it. But to now have visual confirmation that Luz cannot, in fact, do magic in the human realm? Let's just say that adds a whole new level of heartbreak for when Luz has to go home. As well as an overflowing amount of angsty fanfics that plays with that idea.

Lilith’s backstory: ...

*DEEP INHALE*

I will hold off Fredrick Ulisinsburg for now. For. NOW. Because while Lilith's actions are nowhere near justified...it is clear that she does regret her actions. Lilith said it herself. She thought the curse would last for at least a day, and in no way intended for it to be permanent. It's still crappy of her to willingly curse Eda at all, but at least she didn't want her sister to live a life of torture. Plus, there's a sense of tragedy given the fact that Eda wasn't going to fight Lilith anyway. Lilith underestimating how much Eda truly cares must have made the guilt set in even more. And I hope that the show explores that in season two. Because while I think Lilith is on the right track towards redemption, what she did was awful, and I want her to actually earn her forgiveness. Not just hand it out because of a few acts of kindness (more on that later).

(Also bonus points for that foreshadowing with the sharing-the-pain spell. I did not think it would come up again in the way that it did.)

Baby Eda: Must. Protect. Baby. Eda.

Amity’s parents(?): It's yet to be officially confirmed (to my knowledge) that those students in the bleachers are Amity's parents. But if they are, then it's awesome that The Owl House crew snuck this reveal in the finale. They didn't need to do that, but the fact that they did just make schmucks like me happy.

Luz briefly looking out into the forest: So much is said about Luz with just these few short seconds. The fact that she hesitates going back to the Isles tells me that she's wondering if she should. Because right now, Luz has an out. She could say goodbye to her problems and run home to mami, especially given the fact that that's what Eda wants her to do. Except Luz would never do that. Because Luz has proven time and time again that she will not back down when it comes to helping the people she loves. Eda, Willow, Amity. These are all characters that Luz would do anything and everything for if it meant they would be safe. But that doesn't mean she won't briefly get tempted to escape. So while this moment of hesitation shows that Luz can have times of selfishness, her almost immediately running back proves that she will always choose the path of selflessness.

Lilith willing to be a double agent: This was the first sign of Lilith working her way towards redemption. Her willingness to still work for the Emperor's Coven, and to change it from the inside, is pretty admirable. It's almost a shame that she gets caught almost immediately. Because I would have loved to have seen Lilith's attempts to work against the Emperor to protect Luz and Eda from getting arrested. Not only for character growth reasons but because it would actually strengthen her redemption by having Lilith willingly risk everything for the right people.

Luz vs Emperor Belos: I could have never expected this. At least, not so soon. I always assumed Luz would fight Belos at some point, most likely in the series finale. Never would I have expected this confrontation to happen in the first season. And man, oh, man, what a fight! I'm sure some people are gonna complain how easy it was for Luz to fight back, but to those people: I have a few things to point out.

First off, Belos' line of, "I'll play," tells me that he's going easy on Luz. Nothing he does really looks like it would hurt Luz too badly-at least by his standard. And to me, it seems like Belos is treating the fight in a similar way a teenager lets a toddler "challenge" them. Because when you compare Luz's frantic movements to Belos' calm and calculated ones, it is clear who's the better fighter in this battle.

Second, Luz doesn't do that much. Sure she chips his mask with an ice spell. But that's the equivalent of how Iron Man's finishing move on Thanos only resulted in "a drop of blood." Every other glyph Luz uses during this fight was to protect herself rather than fighting back. And the fact that she barely got a chance to fight back, when the Emperor was going easy on her? Let's just say that it makes me even more terrified for Luz's safety when round two inevitably happens.

Lastly, Luz is someone who has what I like to call: Percy-Jackson-Syndrome. A character who's a bumbling idiot seventy-five percent of the time, a surprisingly good strategist for fifteen percent, and terrifying when angry in the last ten. And Luz has shown in the past that she has a sense of quick wit and strategy when fighting powerful foes. Her plan to beat Willow's inner-self, as well as Luz's plan of escape from Otabin, are two examples that come to mind that prove this. So it's not too much of a stretch that Luz is still alive after fighting Belos, because the one time she got the upper hand was by outsmarting him.

So again, good fight, and I'm terrified for round two.

Luz destroys the portal: This was a heroic sacrifice I didn't see coming, even though I really should have. If you've been paying attention to the episode titles, you'll notice that the first letter of each title spells out the phrase, "A witch loses a true way." A lot of people have been speculating what this phrase could mean. Even I dipped my toe in theorizing the right answer. It turns out the people who thought Luz would lose a "true way" back home were correct. But I don't think anybody could have thought that it would be Luz who would take away her only way back home. Not only is Luz being the one to destroy the portal tragic, but this sacrifice shows how much Luz cares about Eda. Luz is willing to say goodbye to everything she knows, for who knows how long, just so Eda can be safe. Plus, it's another moment of Luz defeating her enemy by outsmarting him. Which teaches kids that you don't need to fight harder. You just need to fight smarter.

Lilith shares the curse: This is another sign that Lilith is on the right path. While I still wouldn't say that I forgive Lilith, I will say this sacrifice makes me want to at least consider it.

Belos is fixing the portal: You want to know what makes a villain even more terrifying? The fact that every victory our hero has is more of a minor inconvenience towards the villain. Which is what this scene is. Because while Luz definitely won the battle, it looks Belos is planning on winning the war.

Eda looks different in the outro: I like this. You know why? Because it tells me that Eda being half cursed is not going to be fixed any time soon. Case in point: Willow was wearing her Abomination Track uniform during the intro and the credits, so as not to spoil the ending of episode three. For every episode after, Willow remained in her Plant Track uniform, and it looks like that's not going to change. So the fact that the crew is committing to Eda's design change, to the point where they change the credits as well, shows a great attention to detail. That also hints at a dynamic shift that will remain for the foreseeable future.

The finale makes me want more: To me, the best finales are the ones that resolve most stories but still opens up more for the next season. Because every narrative and conflict season one opened up has been closed. Lilith wanting to arrest Eda? Closed. Who cursed Eda? Closed. Amity's redemption? Please. That got closed, like, three episodes ago. And yet, this finale left me with more questions that I can't wait to get answered in season two.

How will the dynamic change now that Lilith is added into the main crew? What's the day of unity? Why does Emperor Belos want the portal to the human world? Who's that hooded figure that Belos sends to spy on the Owl House? How is being half-cursed going to affect Eda and Lilith? Can Eda still turn into the Owl Beast? Is Lilith going to turn into an Owl Beast now? Are we going to have an episode where Luz and King are going to deal with TWO Owl Beasts? And most importantly: WHEN THE HOLY F**K ARE LUZ AND AMITY GOING TO KISS ALREADY?!?! DO I SERIOUSLY HAVE TO WAIT DURING ANOTHER SEASON-which I'm totally fine with-TO SEE THESE TWO IDIOTS GET TOGETHER?!

I doubt I’ll ever know the answer to all of these questions, but it sure makes me more excited to see what happens next.

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

So, yeah. "Young Blood, Old Souls" is a definite A+ of an episode. It had excellent drama, astonishing character moments, some closure to several stories, and even a few well-timed jokes on occasion. However, I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's the best episode of the season. It's definitely in the top five, for sure, but not the best. I'm more than willing to give that title to "Enchanted Grom Fright" just for the importance of it alone. Hell, I'd say that I enjoyed "Agony of a Witch" a lot more than "Young Blood, Old Souls." But, I'm willing to blame that on the same reason why Avengers: Infinity War is seen as the better movie than Avengers: Endgame. Whereas the first part did a great job at lifting up the stakes and tension, that part two pales in comparison from doing its job of giving closure. But that doesn't change the fact that "Young Blood, Old Souls" is a damn-near perfect episode that both hurts and heals the soul.

(And that’s it! It’s going to be another few months ‘til season two hits, and in turn, months until I’ll have to review episodes again...Unless I want to do something crazy like review the episodes I didn’t talk about. But that’ll never happen!)

(...)

(...Alright fine. I’ll review them. But not until The Owl House comes onto Disney+!)

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.5

Lance dragged his carcass to his bed way too late in the night that it had to be nearly sunrise. Blue annoyed she had to share “her” bed with such a pathetic excuse of a human, further annoyed as Lance wrapped his arms around her. Letting Pidge have sugar had been a terrible mistake for everyone involved. She’d talked through every second of every video, rewinding and pausing frequently to review anything that caught her eyes. Hunk screaming at both jump scares had been captured in the videos, Pidge thinking she was onto some kind of wailing banshee, until Lance had to point out it was Hunk. His poor bestie doing his best to melt into the blue couch cushions as his face burned. Shiro let Pidge talk as much as she liked, Keith sat there and glared when he finally came out the shower to join them. The idiot hadn’t even dried his hair off, throwing himself down next to brother where he shot Lance a look of what seemed to be pure disgust. The dude was a little ball of anger muffin, actually, Pidge was the anger muffin of the group, meaning Keith had to be... the anger loaf? The vampire was like 90% sure that wasn’t a thing, but with Keith being taller and more grizzled than his twig arse, Lance couldn’t do the brain to work out what he was, other than annoying. God, he was going to be dead in the morning.

The storm howled all night long, the latch on Lance’s window deciding to break, Blue sent flying under the bed after jumping squarely on Lance’s face, claws out as she did. A quick glance to his alarm clock confirmed the power had already gone out, meaning no lights, meaning not much point trying to fix the damn window until the sun came up. Except a normal damn person wouldn’t be sleeping away in rapidly cooling room. They’d be scared and all that... Pidge had said karma was coming their way, yet she’d failed to mention it was bad karma.

Pulling on his robe, Lance left Blue under the bed to make her own way out. A scared Blue meant the claws were out. That was a job for a Lance who didn’t feel every bit dead as he’d been for the last 3 plus decades. Heading down the hall, he let himself into the room Hunk and Pidge were sharing. The lamp between the beds off, Pidge snoring away on her side, the side effect of having no power. She must have left her phone bank at home, or she’d probably still be working on her theories from the hospital. In his bed, Hunk was clutching his phone in his sleep. He’d left his fucking glasses in his room, and now it felt like too much effort to go back. Lance didn’t particularly want to crawl into bed with Hunk, but what did normal people do? Would Shiro and Keith think him weird? Fuck... he couldn’t sleep next to either of his friends. He didn’t want to do anything that wouldn’t be considered normal... a normal person... would sleep on the couch. He couldn’t very well magic himself up into a bat and sleep in the attic for the night. Ugh. He was over this. Thoroughly over this.

*

The couch was cold and uncomfortable. There was a spot on the ceiling above it that’d started mocking him something after his third roll over as he tried to go the fuck to sleep. One spot led to two, then three... mocking his entire existence with their round unwanted circleness. The ceiling could probably use a fresh recoat. If he was going to redo the ceiling, he might as well update the rug under the coffee table... and then there was the latch to fix, how many other latched needed fixing... maybe he could put some fresh roses in the garden, the candy striped ones his Mami loved were already backed by white sprawling roses... he had abracadabras in for his papi... aaaaaand now his brain wouldn’t shut up. Maybe it was true about old people and their love for gardening. He really should spend the day tidying everything back up... He had the land and space, but everything other than the roses seemed to be neglected... maybe he could plant out his death soil? Put a nice little fountain there? Some violas and petunias? So much for sleeping. Pidge was going to love this.

Lance gave it what must have been an hour, by his time, after the first rays of sun started to dye the sky in light. The weather drizzly, overcast, and cold. A bit like his mood. Annoyed to find the coffee machine relied on power, now on top of his craptastic night, he was going to have to deal with a caffeine deprived Pidge in the morning. Sure, he was already going about boiling water in a metal kettle on the gas stove top, but Pidge insisted she needed two large coffees each morning before she was ready to face the world. He’d only invested in a coffee maker for the sake of her and Hunk. He’d missed the boat on the human race’s race towards coffee addiction.

Cracking a dozen eggs, Lance hoped he’d was making enough as he whipped up potato fritters and bacon... Then decided he wasn’t being a good enough host, adding fried tomatoes, fried eggs, a bowl of baked beans from a can he didn’t know he had, the finally fried bread thanks to the fact his damn toaster was electric too and he supposed people would want bread. There went his food for the week. Leaving the oven door down, Lance turned the oven on, sliding the plates and bowls in to keep them warm. Now he just needed his visitors to wake the fuck up and get the fuck out...

Lured by the scent of breakfast, Blue came running in ahead of Shiro. Making straight for the kitchen counter, Blue let out a demanding squeaked meow, yes, he knew, she wanted her morning wet food

“Good morning, my love. Breakfast will be ready in a tick”

“Thanks, darling?”

Obviously Shiro knew he was talking to Blue. Seriously, couldn’t a man talk to his damn cat without being attacked?

“Shiro, you’re not fucking funny”

Keith shuffled around the doorway, Lance feeling it’s should be criminal for house guests not to loudly declared where they were and which rooms they were entering, because damn, with his shirt hiked up that strip of smooth taunt belly between the hem and his jeans just wasn’t fair

“You tell me that every day”

“Because all you do is get older and less fucking funny. Where’s the coffee?”

“The power’s off, you’ll have to make do without. Sorry, Lance, he’s barely human until he has his coffee”

Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. Big fake smile, he wasn’t as dead as he was body was, all smiles

“That’s alright, Shiro. Pidge is the same. If she doesn’t have her two coffees she’s purely demonic. She’s been known to bite, scratch and kick. I used the kettle on the stove, not exactly cafe quality but as my mother would say, “if it’s good enough for your grandmother, it’s good enough for you””

“I’m pretty impressed, not many people would think about boiling water on the stove top”

“My family used to go camping quite a bit when I was a kid. As long as you’ve got a gas stove, you’re pretty much prepared for times the power goes out. Do you two want to eat first, or shall I go get Hunk and Pidge?”

“Oh... we don’t want to intrude...”

“You’re not. Everything’s already done, we’ll eat then I’ll run you into town. Sorry the power went out, your probably dying to know how your car’s going. Hunk’s dad always wakes up at the crack of dawn, so by the time we’re done, he should have some kind of update for you”

“I’m that case, sure. Thanks so much for all of this. I know you weren’t terribly keen on us crashing for the night”

“Well, you didn’t murder me in my sleep, and as far as I can see you haven’t killed Pidge and Hunk, so you pass with flying colours. I’ll be right back”

Lance fled as politely as he could, hitting his shoulder on the doorframe as he did. God, could he be more embarrassing? Who makes another murder joke when the time’s passed and it was now like he was flogging a dead horse. Pidge was right, he was lame as fuck... old age finally setting in... next thing came death... ugh, he really needed to stop with the mental joking. Insanity was a very real risk that came with living for too long. If he kept talking to himself like a crazy person, he was going to have to throw himself at the mercy of Coran with the hopes of a quick death. And fuck, he’d forgotten Blue’s food again...

Pidge didn’t want to wake up, a fist coming flying as Lance shook her shoulder. Hunk had spent the whole night with his hand on his phone, but was accepting of it being time to wake up. Pidge was not

“Fuck off... I’m sleeping”

“I have coffee”

“Gimme the coffee, then fuck off”

Lance snorted, too tired for anything other than a quick huff out his nose

“You have to come to the kitchen for coffee. We have to drop Shiro and Keith off in town, remember?”

“Let’em walk”

“After everything you put me through, you don’t get to go back to sleep”

“My house, my rules, fucker”

“That’s Mister Fucker, especially seeing you’re in my guest bedroom. Hunk, help me out here?”

“Nope. You poked the Gremlin. Do I smell food?”

“I cooked. I channeled my inner Hunk and made us all breakfast. Eggs, bacon, full nine yards, and coffee”

Climbing out of bed, Hunk wrapped his arms around him

“Best friend ever. Dude, you’re like frozen”

“The latch broke on my window last night, tried crashing out on the couch but you know what it’s like when your brain won’t shut up”

Hunk groaned at him

“You should have come crawled into bed here, man”

“I thought about it, but that seemed like effort. Didn’t wanna wake you up”

“You’re frozen. Go take a hot shower, I’ll make sure we save you breakfast”

“No, I’ll take a shower once we’ve dropped Shiro and Keith back in town. I’m dreading the state of my room, have to get my glasses out, but I’m scared it’s going to be a total mess”

“That’s rough, man. Still, you probably should get out of your pyjamas before giving us a ride home”

“I’ll have you know there’s no shame in wearing pyjamas shopping. I think they’re quite manly”

“Lance, bud, light of life and best bud a man could ask for, you can’t wear your pyjamas”

Lance had no issue with wearing his pyjamas in public. Somewhere along the line he was pretty sure there was a good six month period in his life where he’d worn nothing but his pyjamas. He loved the deep blue satin with gold trim and a little lion up on his breast pocket. Plus he had the matching robe and slippers. He loved them so much he had three more pairs in blue, one in red which looked horrible against his skin tone, and another set in black on the off chance something happened to the other four pairs.

“But they’re comfy”

“And you have to pretend to be an adult”

Lance blew a raspberry, pushing Hunk away

“Adulting is overrated. Back in my day you weren’t an adult unless you had two cars under your name”

“Dude, you have a car and a mortgage. What else would you call that?”

“An oversized kid with a commitment issue?”

Hunk face palmed, taking a long breath, he released it slowly

“Please, for me, will you at least change into something warmer?”

Dammit. Hunk knew he was weak to his bestie asking for a favour

“Fine. But know I do so under protest”

“Noted. Are Keith and Shiro already awake?”

“Yep, already in the kitchen”

Hunk scrambled to straighten up his bed, for no obvious reason Lance could hear how fast Hunk’s heart was racing. What did he have to be so worried about?

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me? They better not have eaten everything”

Food? He’d cooked enough food to cook a small army

“I’d be surprised if they had”

“I don’t know, man. Oh my god, what if they have allergies?”

“Then I’ll have two dead bodies and all my karma would have gone up in flames. Relax, there’s a spread, I’m sure they’ll find something edible down there”

“I better go make sure...”

“Hunk, you’re making me sad. I promise I haven’t intentionally poisoned anyone in the last fifty years”

“There’s always that chance... So many people have allergies these days”

“And so many people now understand allergies better. Come on, man. They’re adults. Probably have two cars each and everything. Have some faith, man”

Lance’s words meant nothing, Hunk was off worrying himself sick over two grown men. He wouldn’t be Hunk if he wasn’t, but he didn’t have to attempt to take care of everyone they met... no matter how much of a teddy bear, people pleasing, free lover, he was.

*

Lance’s room had been torn apart by the storm. His window now broken, to match the broken latch. His bed was soaked, his floor was soaked, a stray branch had found its way onto his bed, and his damn glasses were cracked. The worst part was his blue slippers getting damp as he cross his room, stepping from “dry patch” to “dry patch”. More like “less wet patch” to “less wet patch”. Fucking storms, and fucking karma. He’d tried to be nice... he’d faked it as nicely as he could, that had to earn him brownie points. Now he’d be scrubbing the floors with vinegar to kill anything even remotely mould like that had the idea it was going set up residency in his house. They never warned you of the less fun things that came with being a homeowner. Had he know how much things would cost, he would have been campaigning for his mother start saving while he was still just an egg. Bring rural, someone had to come up from Platt. There was travel time, replacement time, having a stranger in his house, then there was the cleanup from their dirty boots.

Changing reluctantly into casual jeans, Lance piled on his thickest of jackets, with a scarf and beanie. Hunk had been suspicious of how cold he’d been, and with the weather still dreary, he needed to look the part, including forcing his feet into boots he hadn’t worn for at least two years. He hoped he’d looked okay, seeing he didn’t have an intact mirror to check. Lance also double checking he didn’t have any underwear hanging out his jeans, because he’d done that before today. Going to fuel up, he’d gone to double check his pockets for his wallet only to find a pair of black boxer briefs hanging from the back of his jeans. Thankfully no one had noticed as quickly stuffed them in his jacket pocket, before avoiding any and all eye contact when he’d gone in to pay. He most certainly wasn’t worried about his appearance due to the two handsome strangers in his kitchen... Nope. Not at all.

Heading down, Lance tripped on the stairs, then bumped into the banister. Every morning his eyes seemed to need an adjustment period thanks to his damn cracked glasses. They were only a cheap pair, but that wasn’t the point, it was something else he needed to replace on top of everything else going on. Back in the day he’d made some very dubious choices over his frames, thanks to the hipster rival he was now having the chance to rock the same shades as a much cooler person in a less judgmental time. Making his way down to the kitchen, Lance could hear Pidge prattling on about the paranormal, Hunk must have poured into a chair then poured coffee down her throat to keep her calm. She was honestly as bad as a starving vampire, Lance wouldn’t say he famished, but he would say his daily routine was out of whack. He would have been into his first blood pack by now, yet thanks to his guests and the lack of power the fridge needed to remain cold since he didn’t have a backup power system for the fridge alone.

Feigning casualness, Lance wandered into his kitchen, happy to see everyone except Keith was either. If Keith didn’t want to eat, then he could go goddamn hungry for all Lance cared

“Whoa, man. What’s with the glasses?”

Trust Hunk to notice right off the bat

“You know how I told you the latch snapped in the storm, the whole window ended up shattering. Room’s a mess, and I need to call a glassier out from Platt”

Trudging to his seat, he couldn’t take it thanks to Sir Mopesalot, his routine thrown off yet again as he was to sit between Pidge and Keith

“That’s rough man, covered by insurance?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather get a private quote too. If it’s less than $500 then it’s easier not to pay the excess”

“Ah, good thinking. What do you want for breakfast?”

There wasn’t that much left. Evidently he’d miscalculated everyone’s hunger levels

“I’ll finish off the potato fritters. Everyone okay with that?”

No one said no, so Lance helped himself to the last two. He was an excellent cook, if he did say so himself.

“So, Shiro. What’ll you do when your car’s fixed?

Shiro washed down the last of his fried egg with a large gulp of coffee, before leaning his elbows on the table as he nursed the mug with both hands

“Head back up to Platt. This was only going to be a day trip”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. Lance is always telling me I ask too many questions”

Lance brought his hand up, ruffling Pidge’s hair

“That’s because you do. I’m sure Shiro is anxious enough over his car as it is”

“He was talking just fine until you showed up. Plus, you forgot to feed Blue. My poor baby was screaming her head off for her food”

“Ah, fuuu-... Thanks, Pidge. I remembered before, but forgot again”

“I did it for Blue, not for you”

“I know. Her and her toe beans appreciate it”

“Glad to know someone appreciates me”

Lance gave a shake of his head

“I always appreciate you, and you know it. Like I appreciate the way you’re going to rinse the dishes for me after you’ve had your second cup of coffee. You’re still in your “Gremlin Mode””

“If you’d just brought the coffee up, I wouldn’t have to be”

“And if you just went to bed at a normal hour, like a normal person, you wouldn’t be so sleepy and cranky. Maybe I should call your mum so she can put you down for a nap when you get home”

“And maybe I should hack back into your home security and set your speakers to play “Psycho” every time you get in the shower”

“You couldn’t pick something I could sing to, could you?”

Pidge kicked the back of his foot under the table, she was on fire this morning

“Watch it. I’m not above motivation speeches for when you’re on the toilet”

“I’m down for that”

“You’re so goddamn weird”

Shiro started laughing, his right hand coming off his coffee cup as he shook it to say “ignore him”. Taking a moment to compose himself, he smiled over the rim of the cup

“You three really get along well, don’t you?”

“Yep. No offence man, I don’t know your friends or anything, but I feel like I’ve got the two best friends in the world”

Lance felt a surge of pride over his friends. Had Shiro dared to challenge him, he’d be having some serious daydreams over what he could do to the man and where to dump the body when he was done. Not that he ever would, and not that he really let himself think that way too often. He was just way too overprotective of the ones he loved

“It’s nice. To have friends as close as family, I mean. Do you have family in the area?”

“He has a grandmother in Pla-“

Lance elbowed Pidge, the question directed at him given Shiro was looking at him

“Yeah. My grandmother lives in Platt. You know what that’s like, she always has all the goss about what’s up. I had wanted her to come live with me so I could take care of her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Apparently I need to get out and live my own life, but that’s hard when most people suck”

Shiro nodded

“What would she say if she knew you picked up two strangers in the middle of a stormy night?”

“She’d say I did the right thing. She’s been my number one supporter through everything. I could be murdered and she’d still want to hound my ghost over if it was a good host or not. “Lance, did you remember to feed them”. “Lance, I hope you didn’t have your feet on the coffee table in front of them”. “Lance, did you use the good silverware and china?”. Lance, I hope you showed them where everything was”. We’ve got like this massive family, so things were always chaotic. Church every Sunday, family dinners, that kind of thing”

Lance was being nice, but blurting out his life was taking it to the next level. Shiro continued to nod and smile politely as Lance spoke

“Do you still attend church?”

“Sometimes, but I always make sure to go for Easter and Christmas. I light a candle every year for my pop who died. I believe in god, but I also believe in evolution. Maybe because I spent so many days at Sunday school, it’s rubbed off on me”

“That’s sounds nice”

Lance hummed

“Yeah. I like to take my grandmother too. Most of the family is catholic. The way I look at it, as long as your not a dick to me, I won’t be a dick to you, nothing else matters. People can believe in who or whatever they like, and that’s their own business”

“Lance, shut up. You’re doing the too many words”

Lance agreed with Pidge, from life he knew sometimes people talked far too much when they were nervous. Shiro left him nervous, but as not nervous as his little brother. Keith hadn’t eaten a thing, even the mug of coffee in his hands had hardly been touched. But he hadn’t really been babbling, had he? He had a tendency to do that when he was sleepy, so always tried to keep a set schedule and sleep routine

“And you’re doing the “not enough coffee in your caffeine system”, Pidgeon”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Yep, as much as I hate you”

“Fuck... You don’t hate me”

“I love you, which means you love me”

Pidge mumbled about being tricked, flipping him off as she rose her coffee cup to her lips.

Shiro smiled at their antics, Lance wishing he didn’t look like such a loser with cracked glasses

“Well it’s lucky for us that you did. Breakfast was delicious”

“I’m glad you liked it. I can’t cook like Hunk, but my grandmother would have killed me if I didn’t pick up a thing or two cooking with her”

“You can let her know you did her proud. Is she...”

Is she what? Ooooh...

“Oh, she still alive. Yep, she’s in Platt and try to visit her when I can. Garrisons like the perfect distance away. I don’t have to live in the city, but I can visit when I want. I’m talking way too much. I must be boring you by now. We can head our when your done, and Keith’s finished with his coffee”

“Oh, um, yeah. Right. Keith, you better drink up”

After all the worry over the car, how could Shiro possibly forget? Oh god... what if he was one of those annoying types that were seriously bad at taking a hint? Sure, he’d let them stay one night, but that wasn’t happening again. This was his house and the sooner they left the better it was for everyone. Keith cast Shiro a sullen look as he finally sipped at his coffee, Pidge was bad in the morning, but Keith took it to a whole other nonfunctional level. Lance was definitely not going to miss him leaving in the slightest. Seriously, he’d cooked his arse off and the arsehole hadn’t eaten a single thing, even treating the coffee as if it were poisoned. What a douche.

Changes

So, I know I made you a promise that the next short would be NSFW, but this idea popped into my head this afternoon, and I was literally not capable of putting a single other word to my screen until I had gotten this out of my system. The NEXT story will be the NSFW one, it’s about 3/4 written at this point and its a pretty fun read so fun.

Anyway, this story is about 18′s reaction to Krillin telling her he wants to become a cop, and move to the city. I smashed this one out in about 2 hours, so it’s not as long as the others in the collection, but I hope you’ll enjoy it none-the-less.

Read more below the cut, and lemme know what you thought!

_____

Changes _____

“You want to do what?!”

“Hear me out, babe.” Krillin gingerly reached across to her side of the bed and rested his hand on 18’s thigh, hoping against hope that she was in a reasonable mood. “Please?”

She wasn’t.

“What’s there to hear, Krillin?” 18 huffed, and turned away from him. She swung her legs out of their bed, resting her feet on the cool floorboards below, and did her best to ignore the feeling of Krillin’s sad eyes boring into her soul from behind. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Krillin, never one to give up, stood and gently padded around the bed, much to 18’s disdain. She hated it when he was kind and patient when she was trying to be annoyed at him. “Why not?” he asked, “seems to make a lot of sense to me.”

“Oh,” 18 moaned. “So I can see you’ve already put a lot of thought into this. It would have been nice if you could have consulted your wife before you went ahead and made plans that effect your entire family.” She mumbled something under her breath before again turning her head away from Krillin and staring directly at the wall.

“Babe…” Krillin faltered, this was going much worse than he had expected. “I haven’t made any plans. I promise you, if you really and truly think this is a bad idea, then it’s over.” Again he gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze before walking back to his side of the bed. “Forget I ever mentioned it.”

A thick and uncomfortable silence hung between the pair for a painfully long few minutes. 18 stood up and opened the window, letting the cool ocean breeze into their bedroom. She hoped the salty air would help to clear her head. Eventually, she turned back to face her husband, and Krillin was surprised to see the torment on her face. “A police officer?” she asked, with a long sigh, and her hands on her hips. “Really?”

“Sure,” Krillin patted the empty spot beside him, hoping to coax his wife back to his side. It worked, and 18 slid back into the warm bed. “Why not?”

“Why not?” 18 turned to look at her husband, totally baffled by his words. “Why not?!” she repeated, trying her best to keep her voice down, so as not to wake Marron, who was sleeping in the next room. “Because it’s dangerous, Krillin! That’s why not!”

Again, silence fell between them. While 18 brooded, Krillin tried desperately to come up with the correct words to say next. He had not expected this, of all things, to be the catalyst of his wife’s concern.

“Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, recently. We both know we can’t live here on the island forever. Marron is meant to start school next year, and how’s that gonna work?” He paused for a moment to give 18 the opportunity to weigh in, but when she remained silent, he pushed on. “We need to be where ever we can give her the best future, and to do that, I’ll need a job, a real job, not just the odd handyman gig or tournament win. I want to be able to provide for you both, to give you the life you deserve. Joining the Police Force really feels like the logical next step for me. I have the right skillset, and it would be a great way for me to be able to help the people of our community.”

18 sighed, and pushed her hair back behind her ear as she thought. Why did she have to pick Krillin, the most giving, and noble man in the universe, as her husband? Why did he have to have an altruistic, non-selfish answer for every question she ever posed to him?

“Marron,” she began, looking for any reason that might convince Krillin this was a bad idea, “She loves it here. The island is the only home she’s ever known.”

“I know, I get that,” Krillin responded. “Kame Island has been my home too, for pretty much all of my life. It’s certainly the only place that’s ever felt like home, at the very least, and believe me, any decision we made to leave, would not be made lightly. But I’m thinking about her. This island is a great place to be a kid, but I lived here as a teenager and I can tell you, being out here in the middle of nowhere, no friends, nothing to do, no one to talk to, it was lonely. I don’t want that for her, and I don’t think you do either, right?”

“Right,” 18 nodded, hoping that her reluctance to admit Krillin was right wasn’t as evident in her voice as it felt in her chest. He was right, of course. This was a topic that 18 had been burying her head in the sand about for a long time. She knew, deep down, that Krillin was speaking the truth, that they couldn’t stymie their child by keeping her locked up out here, in the middle of nowhere, forever. But the fact of the matter was, the world was a scary, dangerous place, and 18 was able to keep Marron safe from all the bad things the world had to offer when they were safely tucked away on this little pile of sand.

“I know the thought of her growing up is scary,” Krillin wrapped an arm around 18’s shoulders and pulled her in close against him as she spoke. “Believe me, I don’t want her out of my sight for a second any more than you do. But, she needs to go to a real school, and have real friends. She needs to go to birthday parties, and sleepovers, and take ballet and pony riding lessons. She’s growing up, babe. Imagine all the things she could grow up to be, if she’s given the right opportunities now, while she’s young. All the good she might add to the world.”

Marron, just by way of her mere existence, added good to the world. She was perfection in blonde pigtails. But 18 understood where Krillin was coming from. This was the part of being a parent that 18 had not been prepared for – having to make decisions that you didn’t like, that weren’t in your best interest, for the good of your child. It never, ever, got any easier. “Mmm,” she reluctantly agreed.

“Plus,” Krillin leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his wife’s cheek. “Think of all the things we could do while she was at school, if we didn’t have to worry about Roshi and Oolong being around every corner.” He waggled an eyebrow, “and all the places we could do those thing. The bedroom. With the door open,” he kissed 18’s cheek again. “The shower,” he reached up and tilted her chin towards him. “The kitchen,” his lips found 18’s in a slow, lingering kiss.

18 was unable to stop herself from falling for Krillin’s charms, and she kissed him back. The thought of not having to worry about someone spying on her through the lock every time she hopped in or out of the shower was enticing, she admitted. Feeling Krillin’s hand slip down her shoulder, towards her waist, 18 reluctantly pulled away from him, breaking their kiss before she lost her train of thought all together. She wasn’t done with this conversation yet. “Slow down, hot shot,” she smiled, and smoothed back Krillin’s unruly hair with her hand. “Can’t you be an accountant or something? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with the idea of you being a police officer…” she trailed off. Even after five years of marriage, 18 still sometimes shied away from expressing her true emotions to Krillin. “If something happened to you,” she forced the words over her lips, “I’d never recover.”

“Babe…” Words failed Krillin at that moment. Sure, he knew that 18 loved him, but she was not the type of person too just come right out and say it like that. Krillin felt his heart swell, and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He had spent his whole life, from the time he was a small boy, wondering if anyone would ever truly love him, and now, to have someone who he loved and cared for so deeply, to have her reciprocate that feeling? Krillin knew he truly was the luckiest guy in the world.

“Babe,” he tried again. “You know I would be okay. You every day, run of the mill bank-robber’s got nothing on me,” he elbowed 18 in the ribs in an effort to lighten the mood, but it didn’t seem to work.

“All it would take is one stray bullet, Krillin. Or one badly timed car and it could be over. Don’t you care about that? About what that would mean for Marron and me?”

“18,” Krillin’s voice took on a darker tone at the suggestion that he might not be thinking about his family. 18 noticed the change and turned to face him. For the first time since this conversation started, she really paid attention to her husband’s face, and she could see how seriously he was taking this. “I could get shot walking home from being an accountant too. Or hit by a car. Being a cop wouldn’t change that. But y’know, I really think I could make a difference to people lives, like I’ve always wanted to, and we both know I can’t do math, I’d be a rubbish accountant.”

“You already make a difference to people’s lives.”

“Whose?” Krillin asked.

“Mine. And Marron’s. You make our lives better every day.”

Krillin felt the love swelling up and overfilling his heart, and again, he wondered how the hell he ever managed to get this lucky.

“Plus,” 18 continued, “You’ve already helped so many people. You’ve saved the world so many times.”

“That’s not true,” Krillin’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “Sure, I’ve been in the nearby vicinity while Goku and Gohan and Vegeta saved the world, but we both know I’ve never truly made a difference when it comes to those apocalyptic bad guys. I’ve mostly just gotten in the way, really,”

18 furrowed her brow, displeased with what she was hearing. She really hated it when Krillin spoke badly of himself like that. “Nonsense,” she laced her fingers with Krillin’s and smiled at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not though,” Krillin perked up again. “And I’m not even saying that in a bad way, really. I’m not a Sayian and I never will be. My opportunity to be anything other than moral support in world-ending fights passed by long ago, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It is what it is and I’ve made my peace with that. What I am saying though, is that I’m still a hell of a lot stronger than all the run-of-the-mill thugs roaming the streets and I really could make a difference there.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Krillin replied with a nod. “I know it would be a huge change for us all though. And I really meant it when I said that if you’re not okay with it, the entire idea dies in this room, right now. You, and Marron, you’re the only things in this entire world that matter to me, and I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life doing every single thing I can to make you happy.”

Silently, 18 rested her head on Krillin’s shoulder. She closed her eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of her husband idly running his finger up and down her bicep. “You could always follow in Gohan’s footsteps and become a masked superhero.” She eventually said, as a wide grin spread across her face.

The boisterous laughter that exploded from Krillin at that suggestion was almost enough to wake everyone else in the house. “Are you kidding me?” Tears streamed down his cheeks. With the mood suddenly 10 times lighter, Krillin wrapped his arms around 18 and pulled them both down the bed, until her head was resting on the pillow and he was propped up on his elbows beside her. “Have you seen how ridiculous he looks in that ‘costume’ of his? I want you to be proud of me babe, not mortified by my very existence!”

“I’m always proud of you.” 18 smiled. She reached up and snaked her arm around Krillin’s neck, pulling him down for a long, passionate kiss. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips as they parted

“Okay?” Krillin’s eyes sparkled with hope.

“Okay,” 18 nodded, and kissed Krillin’s forehead. “You’ll make an excellent Police Officer, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Babe…” Unsure how to complete that sentence, Krillin instead opted to lean back in for another kiss. 18 didn’t object and wrapped both her arms around his neck, keeping him close. “I love you, and I promise you, only good things are going to happen for us from here on out.”

“Just promise me one thing, officer” 18 reached over and flicked off the lamp on her bedside table, plunging the room into almost total darkness. She found his mouth again in the dark and pried his lips open with her tongue. There was no question where this night was headed.

“What’s that?” Krillin’s hand slipped below 18’s pyjama shorts.

“You’ll remember to bring home your handcuffs.”

_____

Another story done! Hope you liked it! Sorry it’s not the Adults Only story so many of you are waiting for, but when an idea needs to be worked out, and idea needs to be worked out. I’m at the mercy of my imagination.

Likes, reblogs and all that jazz are always apricated, and I love hearing from you all. So feel free to hit me a message any time!

When the Ink Dries Part VIII

<Thank you @icedteainthebag for giving me the tough love on the first draft of this.  And to all of you for waiting.  Rated Explicit.>

Chapter 19

Scully waited in the parlor room armchair wearing borrowed clothes, winding a chunk of overgrown split ends around her finger like late autumn weeds, the fur hem of Stella’s wool pencil skirt prickling her thighs.  She picked at her nails until one cuticle bed split open and bled.  Stella was still getting ready - had spent almost the entire day getting ready - for the fallen officers’ memorial event, but Scully’s impatience was levelled squarely at herself.

First thing this morning, Scully had promised herself she would get it over with.  In retrospect, she could see that her plans were doomed the moment she sunk against the bathroom door jamb and set her eyes on Stella.  Stella had been studying herself in the mirror, squinting, shoulder blades knitted together under her t-shirt, weight back on her heels.  Holding herself as she held everyone - at a distance.  Scully crossed her arms over her chest and cleared her throat in an effort to be acknowledged.  Her secret was an accidental one, born as a simple piece of information, an unshaped piece of wet clay.  Using nothing but time and cowardice, Scully had shaped that harmless blob into a weapon with a shortening fuse.  She had never considered herself an artist, except in the field of avoidance.

“My first work event since I’ve been out of commission,” Stella said with a self-mocking smile.  She looked down at a jar of cream and she swiped a glob across her forehead.  Scully hesitated - she’d get to the secret in just a minute - and reached for Stella’s hand, caught two of her fingers.  Stella’s shoulders swiveled and her hand swung with Scully’s like a trapeze act without a net, eyes flickering and then meeting her partner’s in the mirror.  Traveling forty feet in an instant of eye contact.

“Will they find me… as I was before?” Stella asked, a forced comedic lilt to her voice that reminded Scully of when she had to resort to asking Mulder how some skirt made her butt look.  She was embarrassed that she cared.  

“A couple months older, maybe,” Scully teased, then re-capitulated.  “Yes, they will.  Better, even.”

The secret began to smolder the minute Scully decided to put it off until later, foolishly leaving it to eat the silence like a fire eats oxygen.  Now it was hours-stronger, solid as cement, an extra story of the flat inserted between the two existing levels that they occupied.

Scully looked up from the armchair and felt her chin drop when she heard the typewriter click of Stella’s shoes on the staircase.  Stella descended slowly, dangling pauses like pronouncements, each patent leather heel hovering over its next step like she expected it to rise up and meet her rather than the other way around.  Blouse nipped at the sides pinned by seams to her body like a cloud to the sky.  Blacks so deep the gold seemed to swim in it, whites so new they shaded her face pink.  On her, a police uniform was a fantasy of authority and sex so pure that it seemed more like a costume than a mandate.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Scully said, forgetting both her secret and sucking of her bleeding nail a moment.

“Bring that finger over here and let me do that for you.”

If they’d had more time, it would have been a good idea, actually, a way of getting through it...  Run her fingers over Stella’s body between sentences, feel her out like a bit of Braille on smooth, sure stone, fingers placed here and there along her pulse, her spine, her hips, and yes one in her mouth.  Stella had an aptitude for nuance in physical contact that she lacked in conversation.  Would it have been exploitative to talk to her that way?  Or an act of kindness?

“That’s your real uniform?”

“I can’t tell if you’re judging or leering,” Stella said.  “If it’s the latter, please make that clear and let’s skip the party.”

“You keep calling it that. Party.”

“Because it is a party, darling.  We’re having alcohol and we put on high heels.”

“You partake of both those things every day.”

“You don’t.”

Scully smiled despite herself.  Stella was square-shouldered in the foyer mirror now, one lazy eye on Scully in the reflection as she fastened the little black tie around her neck and tossed her hair. As she did so, the blonde picked up the shine of the embroidery on her collar, a crystal casting the sun for a rainbow.

“Are they all going to look like this?  Your colleagues?  Underlings?”

“Why?” Stella teased.  “Looking for a replacement?”

“No, of course not.”  

Had that come off as overly serious? Defensive?  Later, in a childish game of what-if, woulda-coulda-shoulda, Scully would wonder how much sooner Stella would have read her, caught her out, had she not been in an unusual state of self-surveillance, so vigilant of her own vulnerability with the “party” that she could miss something to obvious.

“I have them tailored,” Stella said with a sheepish so-what of a smile.  

She slow-stalked the kitchen like a jungle cat, stroked the cylinder of a water glass and placed long, inexplicable glances on various inanimate objects in the room, as though deciding whether to consume or spare each thing.  Then she sipped her water, made tiger stripes on the rim with her lipstick.   There was silence to fill here, but Scully’s mouth had gone dry.

Finally, Stella reached for her jacket and slipped into it as though she’d been recently painted and was trying not to smudge herself.  

“How should I introduce you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“People are likely to assume we’re fucking no matter what I say.”

“Only you assume that about everyone.”

Stella grinned into her last gulp of water and murmured, letting it echo and bubble as she slurped, pausing to swallow in the middle of her phrase.

“This is for your benefit.  I’m making sure you’re prepared.  People will whisper.”

“I’ve been whispered about that way at work my whole life.”

“There are worse things to have whispered by colleagues.”

“I know.  I’ve had those whispered too.”

Stella was unsatisfied.  She didn’t want jokes, she wanted confirmation that this evening would come off without a hitch.  It was not for Scully’s benefit, not really, and that was okay.  Scully spoke as though by rote, repeating her lessons.

“I am prepared for them to assume we’re a couple.”

Stella circled her and collected a small clutch purse she’d left open on the barstool, nudged Scully’s jeweled earlobe with her nose.  She tucked her phone into the bag, a bed of tissues and lip gloss, and then held it under her armpit as she put both arms around Scully’s waist.  Her face now rested on Scully’s shoulder, the carefully-applied layer of cosmetics wafting like spring flowers sealed in wax, a semi-edible decoration atop a birthday cake.  For a moment it seemed unlikely that anything else scheduled for this evening could hold as much weight as that shoulder did.

“I didn’t say couple.  I said fucking.”  Her jaw had dug itself a permanent residence in the posterior delta of Scully’s clavicle.  Scully worried for a moment that the makeup would come off on the sweater, but it was Stella’s sweater after all.  “Be a lamb and say it for me.”

“Fucking,” Scully murmured.

“Mm.”

Scully turned to face her.  Her neck spasmed where Stella’s chin had left a dent.

“You look nice in my things,” Stella said.  

Scully nodded, the guilt traveling like a heart attack up her arm from where Stella held her wrist.  She’d always been shit at accepting compliments, so Stella didn’t notice.

“You look perfect,” she countered.

“Thank you,” Stella said with the quiet, simple grace Scully could never seem to muster.

Scully braced herself.  She had Stella’s attention, the intimacy of a couple’s last moment alone before a party.  She battled the sickening rush of temptation as she considered what to do with it, whether to speak or keep Stella close, to stay here on the safe side of things a little bit longer.

“Come, darling.”

She took Stella’s arm and followed her out.

*

It had been a long time since Scully had observed Stella in a professional setting and she was mesmerized during the ceremony by her focus.  Hands and limbs kept to herself throughout the ceremony, occasionally lifting her chin, a sort of reverse nod of approval at something a speaker said or did.  Scully wondered if Stella’s mind was wandering, if she let herself think of the fact that she could have been one of these names, if she felt guilty or lucky or strange for having narrowly escaped a place among these unfortunate honorees.  

At the end, everyone was directed to the back of the room where tea lights sprouted on pale blue cloths tossed over coin-sized tables.  The room let out a collective sigh of relief, moving en masse toward the promise of small talk and wine.  Cocktail waiters emerged from swinging doors like crumple-vested spiders, drawing invisible webs around arbitrary clusters of people.  The mourners took part at once, moving easily between grief and relief.  Everyone knew their ghosts would be holding their coats for them at the door.  It was a party, like Stella said.

And for Stella, it was turning out to be a pretty good one.  Her posture was already soft with victory.  She’d appeared here in one piece, as herself, had reclaimed her reputation as reliable and invincible.  Scully’s ankles wobbled in her shoes as she thought of the car ride home, the living room where they’d step out of their shoes and wiggle sore toes, of how she’d begin to spoil a perfect night.  She wondered how many drinks Stella would have in her by the time Scully finally said what she needed to say.  One or two and it wouldn’t make a difference, three-plus meant a sloppier tongue and quicker wrists, the sum-total effect of which was generally more auspicious at the end of a night together.

Stella took two glasses of white from one of the passing trays and handed one to her date.

“Chardonnay,” she grumbled with the pout of an adult equally well-versed in self-abuse and self-care. “I spoke to them about this last year.”

Scully laughed.  

“People are grieving for Christ’s sake,” Stella went on.

Scully sucked her stomach in on a deep breath and Stella noticed, misread it as self-consciousness.  Scully let her, sins of omission multiplying like the empty plastic cups on the tables.   Stella leaned in, put her lips against Scully’s ear and Scully wondered if there would be marks on her skin like the water glass, little bands of metallic pink across the cartilage.

“Do you want to go?  We can go,” Stella prompted.  She fiddled with the knot of the bow on Scully’s wrap sweater and freshened it in a shorter amount of time than it had taken Scully to do in the first place.

“No, no.  I just… think I should have worn my own clothes,” Scully said because she needed something true to complain about.  “Or borrowed a uniform.”

“No one would have known the difference, two thirds of these people are idiots.”

“They seem nice.”

“That’s the third I’m willing to talk to.  You could have had mine.  Uniform, I mean.  I hate wearing it,” Stella said, righting herself beside Scully.

“You do?  Even after all that nipping and tucking?”

Stella’s face darkened as it often did when her memory retraced certain steps.  Scully felt obtuse for needing time to understand the tailoring – it was an act of control, not vanity.  

“It reminds me of school.”

This was always how getting to know Stella had been, like picking up items on a scavenger hunt: school names here, siblings there.  There had been times she was tempted to sit Stella down and ask questions for three hours, take notes and turn on a journalist’s tape recorder to get it all down.  It had never much bothered her much; she’d told herself she knew all she needed to know.  How to read Stella’s temperature from across the room, hear the switch flip from silent-at-peace to silent-in-turmoil with music blaring and a bar full of people.  That Stella likes to be touched, but only by people she trusts, that she likes innocent-faced men and women with purpose, that she brushes her teeth in the shower and leaves cabinet doors slightly ajar, that she likes to dance but only when she asks, that she washes her face wearing a red polka dotted headband sometimes.  She knew she could call her for any reason, at any time, and not be judged or turned away, and that when Stella didn’t answer a question, it meant Scully would find it out eventually, out of nowhere, in some other empty space between two moments, when Stella was finally ready to share it, and then Scully might wish she’d never asked it at all.  But she didn’t know how Stella was going to react to what she had to tell her tonight, and that made her feel like all that knowledge was for nought.

They were moving now, Stella in front and Scully in tow, sailing the crowd shoulder to shoulder, Stella billowing in and out of conversations with impressive ease.  Her fingers trailed behind when she walked, or at her side when she stopped, left an infrared wake for Scully to follow.  Scully felt freer than she was used to feeling as someone’s date.  And feeling good while she deceived Stella was unsettling.  Stella’s trust was a limited fund, one she was using up with every moment she held her tongue.

Stella had stopped now, but the crowd continued to move, and Scully had the sensation of standing still on a boat.  She felt her temperature rise and pushed up the sleeves of the sweater.  Her forearms turned pink from the friction.   She couldn’t do it anymore.

“Stella, I have to-”

Stella turned, pinched a crepey pastry off on hors d’oeuvre tray and supported it with a cocktail napkin on its way to Scully’s mouth. Scully lowered her eyes but obediently nibbled, licked the flakes off her lips.

“Stella-”

But she needed time to swallow and in that time...

“Oh.  You remember Ferrington?”

Of course.  The girl who had “door-stepped” Stella with the soup.  She’d had to twist Stella’s arm into a thank-you phone call, but Dani hadn’t picked up anyway and the voicemail got it.  Dani had a date tonight, presumably a girlfriend and Scully wondered whether Dani had assumed the same about her - presumably girlfriend.

“Hello again,” Dani said with a gracious first nod to Scully.  “Dana, right?”

“Hi there.  How are you?” Scully said, trying not to sound angry.  None of her worries was Dani’s fault.  “I don’t know if Stella told you but I loved your soup.”

Dani beamed and the conversation split, Stella taking on small-talk with the girlfriend and Scully entertaining Dani.

“Still here in town?” Dani asked.

“Yes, still here,” Scully said and tucked her hair behind her ear.  

A warm hand on her lower back, one of Stella’s fingers segregating two lines of cashmere ribbon around her waist, a gesture of concern, of care, of – Scully put her hands to her cheeks to cool them - possession.

“Warm in here, is it?” Dani said to Scully, head cocked in empathy.  Her face must be the color of an apple.  “So, how long before you go back?”

“May only be a few more days,” Scully said under her breath, wiping her brow.  She didn’t think Stella would hear and she didn’t want to lie - had not actively lied yet about it.

But of course, the room went silent the minute she mumbled it and her voice seemed so loud it was as though someone had inadvertently passed a microphone under her lips.  Stella dropped her hand from Scully’s back, turned with such eerie cool that for a second Scully wondered if Stella had known all along, had eavesdropped on the phone call last week.  She searched Stella’s face for some emotion - forgiveness or fury, anything other than the punishing granite wall of indifference suddenly being erected inches from her nose, limiting her view of all else.

Scully glanced at Dani, swallowed, squeezed her lips together before she spoke.

“I - I got a call from my work and I can’t extend the leave any longer so--”

“Always… hard to see a... friend go after a long visit,” Dani said, turning to Stella, unsure what exactly was going on but perceptive enough to know she should take Stella’s side.

“Mm.  Excuse me, this wine is abominable,” Stella said.  “I’m going to talk them into coughing up some liquor.  Anyone?”

And Scully had no choice but to let her go.

*

Scully found Stella ten minutes later in a screen-porch-faded bathroom with chipping yellow paint.  Familiar in the manner of a fever dream, more unwanted and disorienting for each recognizable reference point - a pallid iteration of the psych ward restroom in which Stella’s consolation had begun their friendship.  Stella leaned on the sink with fighters’ fists, blister red with white spots at the bones, staring with chilling remove into the ceramic basin.  Scully’s instinctive relief at not finding Stella in hysterics quickly transformed into the panic of finding this instead.  She glanced uneasily at the walls, as though to make sure they wouldn’t close in on her.

“Stella -”

How many times had she said her name like that tonight, trying to get to more?  So many it was starting to seem detached from Stella the person.  A word became meaningless and foreign if you said it enough.

Stella held a hand up and caught her eye in the mirror a moment and then a toilet flushed.  A waitress emerged from one of the stalls and embarrassed, fumbled through the hand-washing process.  Stella’s stare was unforgiving and lasted the duration, and Scully waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, trying to absorb the awkwardness with micro movements.  

“Lock the door,” Stella said when they were finally alone.

“What if someone has to --”

“I said lock it.”

“I’m sorry,” Scully said as she flipped the bolt.  It was heavy and hard to push, left a line in the middle of the pad of her finger.  The irritation she was beginning to feel in reaction to Stella’s behavior was something of a relief.  Anything to avoid the self-reproach she’d been bearing up under all day.  “It’s not like I want to leave you.  But I have to unless I’m going to, I don’t know, move here.”

Stella’s glare set into her like a machete, cleaved her right between the eyes.

“You think I care if you go?  I care that you just made me look like an idiot.”

“You don’t care if I go?”

“Don’t be a cliché.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t want to stay but you don’t want me to let you go either.”

“I just… I didn’t know where this was going… and my life…”

“It’s not going anywhere,” Stella snapped.  

Scully licked her lower lip and swallowed, trying not to cry.

“Well, that’s what I assumed.”

“I sound angry but I don’t mean to.  I don’t like surprises.”

Observing Stella’s process of calming herself was one of the more disconcerting experiences Scully could summon to mind, on par with the mid-ride plateau of a rollercoaster, helpless between two loops, listening to the engine click and collect the momentum it needed to throw you off the next drop.

“I don’t want anything to go anywhere,” Stella said, gaze softening but not warming, falling like sleet into the sink.  Scully followed it, gripped the drain with her eyes before it could swallow her.

“You haven’t been happy having me here?”

“That’s the present.  You’re talking about the future.”

“You know, this is a version of the same conversation we had fifteen years ago after the first night we spent alone together,” Scully said.

“Maybe we’re fools for needing to have it again.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have had it in the first place.”

Stella scoffed.

“Come on, Dana.  What?  And just been together?”  She looked at Scully.  “You wouldn’t have had any of your life with Mulder, your child.”

“I lost them anyway.”

One of Stella’s eyes flinched and she licked her bottom lip, swallowed whatever bit of gloss she’d picked up there.  She turned back to the sink.

“Well, I guess I make for a decent consolation prize.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Scully said, “and you know it.”  She hated the way her voice sounded, wounded and will-less.

“You speak to Mulder recently?” Stella asked and ran her tongue in front of her teeth.

“Yes.  Why?”

Stella tossed off a look that landed like a punch in the chest.

“Don’t you dare,” Stella said and her voice rattled like a stick.

“Dare what?” Scully finally asked.  But Stella didn’t answer because she knew Scully knew.  Don’t you dare pretend he’s beside the point.

Cold air suddenly puffed from the vent overhead.  Scully crossed her arms and shivered with the recognition that she was taking part in an overreaction.  She had made many fights in her life worse this way, by trying to manufacture the end before it had lived its natural course, diminishing a drama before it had played out its denouement.

“Listen.  I don’t know what you want from me,” she said.  “What was my alternative here?”

“Bring it up sooner.”

“And then what?  You would’ve said stay, quit your job, move to England, and we’ll go to a party next week?  You’ve had this thing on your mind for days.  It would’ve ruined it.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Scully took a step closer and Stella stepped back.

“Let’s talk about this later when we’re calm,” Scully said, reaching for her.  Stella swatted her arms back out of reach.

“Let me be,” she said.  

Scully looked at her feet as Stella edged past her, avoiding her like the pit of a natural disaster.  The thought of staying in this bathroom one second longer than necessary was unbearable.  The thought of not following Stella out made her feel lost and scared and alone in a foreign country in a way she had not felt switching trains on complicated tube lines, not felt getting lost on runs around ungridded alleyways of gory murderers.  

She spent the hour rationalizing and emerged hungry and thirsty and calm, her tailbone sore from the plastic toilet bowl cover seat.  This would blow over quickly.  She and Stella had been through too much.  There were advantages to spending most of your life arguing every day with someone you loved.  You knew what to do with an hour alone in the bathroom.  (Not that Mulder had ever given her an hour alone in her life.)

The lights had gone darker, the crowd had grown louder and there was music she didn’t recall noticing before.  She searched the room for Stella’s golden head, eager to make things right.  The bar came into view as the crowd parted and Scully stopped short, felt a few bodies stiffen and pile behind her.  A couple drops of something cold splashed her calves.  People doled apologies or sought them but she didn’t care.  

There was Stella on a high stool with an arched back and a strategically crossed leg, talking to, or rather, listening to, or rather, pretending to listen to a male officer in his thirties.  Bored and sloping as the moon, leaning on one elbow over the bar, forearm waving its half empty glass of Scotch like a loose clock hand.  The shoe on her crossed foot clucked on and off her heel and she was absent behind the eyes, already living in an event to come within hours, the furthest future she was capable of embracing.

Scully threw a sharp glance down at the floor, then moved forward, thinking of the courage of crime scenes past.  She tried to imagine the comfort of a flashlight in hand, a gun in its holster, a walkie promising backup.  

Stella looked at her as though she were one of the cocktail waitresses carrying substandard table wine and she might as well have murdered her.

“Hi there,” the idiot man said, chipper, swingy, a lucky guy having a lucky night, and Scully allowed herself to hate him deeply and irrationally as she waited for Stella to introduce her.  Nothing.

“I’m going to head back to the flat,” Scully said at last.

“I’ll be there eventually.  Few more things I want to do here.”

He beamed with pride, the man did, in the periphery of Scully’s view; he was that thing she meant to do!  But Stella ignored him for the time being, fixed Scully with a hunter’s stare, eyes empty as the viewfinder of a rifle, Scully filling in the space between the crosshairs, fur up on the back of her neck under a string of pearls.  She felt Stella’s focus sharpen, watched her trigger finger wiggle around her glass.  And Scully turned while she could still get out alive, bolted through the human foliage of widows and revelers toward the exit.

*

There was comfort in the predictability of it: Stella going home with some random man to escape reality.  Scully managed mostly to put the details of it out of her mind and wondered instead what her role here was, what Stella would be expecting of her.   This, she thought, was as apt a description of love as any – wanting to give another person exactly what they expected of you, even when they weren’t looking, even when you were furious with them.

She’d left her shoes in two different spots on the staircase, clothes in three distinct heaps.  She’d hidden her phone from herself, hoped she’d had enough to drink on an empty stomach to fall for it, then cried and taken a shower and sipped wine from an open bottle.  Not knowing what else to do, she’d resorted to tackling the contents of two junk drawers and a spice rack on the kitchen floor.  She’d done this with Mulder sometimes too, reorganized his (overbearing, overwhelming) spaces in their home and office.  It made her feel closer to him then, and to Stella now, trying to safe-crack her logic from the inside out, determine why one thing was on the same shelf as the next, or why condoms were in the kitchen at all (though not wonder too hard).  It took a great deal of energy she would have otherwise used on self-pity to frame things the way Stella would, distinguish complex system from misplaced item; everything with Stella fell into one or the other of those categories.  

It wasn’t until she heard the thick poplin-gabardine swish of uniform sleeves in the foyer that she realized that Stella might view the innards of cabinets splayed across the hard grey floor as a provocation.  But it was too late to undo what she’d already undone, so she kept her eyes on the bottle of cardamom, weeded out a yellow potato chip clip, thought of Stella wiping her hands on a pair of overpriced sweatpants while closing a bag of kettle chips she’d stash in a corner behind the red wine.  

She slumped a little deeper, expecting any minute to hear strident stilettos making their way to the fridge, to feel Stella’s triumphant glare on the back of her head.  She braced herself for the smells, the sights, the evidence of spite-sex.  It was Stella’s right to go home with whomever she wanted, with or without the impetus of a fight.  Scully had never asked her for any sort of exclusivity.  She was good at not asking people for what they couldn’t give, but bad at accepting the fact that they didn’t offer it up.  

But there was something other than gloating triumph going on.  Stella stood still under the arc that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house.  A truce had arrived, or at least, it was within Scully’s power to provide one.  Scully picked up a plastic container of rainbow nonpareils and shook them weakly.

“What are these for?”

“Ice cream.  Fairy bread.”

A smile ached across Scully’s teeth.

“Fairy bread?  How am I supposed to keep arguing with you when you say stuff like that?”

“I’m sorry.  It was rude to send you off that way,” Stella said.  What she didn’t say was for fucking somebody else.

Scully put one hand on the floor and pressed herself up to stand.  The eye makeup hadn’t budged, of course, and the lips were red from rubbing rather than taupe from painting, but the cheeks were splotchy, and the bottom rims of her eyes sagged until the red part showed, as though they’d been stretched beyond repair.  She wondered where Stella could have cried.  Surely not in the presence of that strange man.  In his bathroom?  The cab ride home?  On some street corner between here and there, hiding in a shadow with her palms pressed into a row of brick?  Her heart sizzled like an antacid dropped into a glass - sadness competing with jealousy and anger.  Mulder had never tried or tested her in this particular way.  The first time they’d had sex, or maybe sooner, she got his undying faithfulness in return.  She’d only ever lost him to ideas, thoughts, to himself, never to another person.

The uniform skirt was wrinkled at the hips and the blouse sagged so that it was almost unrecognizable from this afternoon.  Scully felt a twinge of sadness remembering how the day had started; stiff fabric and affectionate glances, innuendo in a foyer mirror.  

“I didn’t expect you to be sorry,” Scully said.

“That’s two of us then.”

Scully rolled a row of unsharpened pencils that were waiting to be organized on the counter.  They seemed so clean and useful absent the frustrated chewing marks she was accustomed to finding in her and Mulder’s office.   Stella found other things to sink her teeth into.

“It’s your prerogative,” Scully said.

“I know that.  But you’re standing there looking at me like that and it makes me want to die.”

Something in the phrase or in Stella’s voice resembled a distant generic concept of couplehood.  This was how most people behaved.  They belonged somewhere at a certain time of night, they were sorry when they weren’t in that place, other people who expected them in that place got jealous, everyone felt guilty.  That was what a relationship was… wasn’t it?  How could she have gotten to this point in her life and not known?

“Maybe we could go to therapy,” she said and almost laughed at herself.  Somewhere she’d heard people talk like this.  “You know, figure it out.”

Stella looked at her with something like gentle reproach.  Or sympathy.  Or pity.  Or apology.  Whatever it was, it was not cruelty.  

“But you’ve come so far,” Scully said, turning her face away, giving in, letting it fold like a pile of shirts on her shoulder.

“Please don’t ask me to come any further.”

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22