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hostilecityshowdown · 1 year

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Shawn making chocolates to make up for a fight he started with Diesel, but it goes horribly wrong.

[ ao3 ]

It was pure coincidence that the next hotel boasted a small café-bakery as an offering of hospitality. Around thirty miles back, Shawn realised he had to do something to apologise to Diesel for the scene he caused. The trouble was deciding what to do.

Maybe it was their ongoing rise in popularity that convinced the boss to pre-book them one of the swankier hotels, something at least a full star above the typical motor lodge they could afford on their own dime. Maybe McMahon was just concerned about making a good impression on the new recruit, considering how swiftly Diesel had turned coat on WCW and jumped to the WWF only two months before. Or, perhaps, this was an attempt to dissuade Shawn, himself, from engaging in his usual illicit activities - whatever the reason, Diesel was down in the gym, taking full advantage of their accommodations. After their argument, the previous night had been rough, to say the least, with too much awkward shuffling around each other in the too-small room. Shawn was used to pushing the beds together, but Diesel didn't move the nightstand aside as he normally did. He showered, bedded down, and went to sleep, leaving Shawn standing in the ambient light of the hallway peeking under the door. Feeling like a lost puppy, he eventually crawled under his own bedspread and restless leg syndrome'd himself out of any real sleep until dawn. Diesel took off during one of the few hours his partner was unconscious, leaving a brochure opened to the gym's page on his bed to indicate where he'd gone.

Things were not good.

It was the first real fight they'd had, Shawn realised as he stared at the thick, day glow orange curtains, and he was doing a pretty bad job at making up, even though he resolved to do so en route to their current hotel. He bundled the comforter up against his chest and clutched it, sighing, racking his brain for a solution; he was determined not to let himself leave bed until a light bulb illuminated above his head. Metaphorically, at least, he thought to himself, already pacing from one end of the room to the next.

"So much for that," he grunted, tussling his hair furiously with both hands, leg bouncing every time he pivoted to pace another line. "It can't just be sincere, it's gotta look sincere. Believable, not like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar and the thing I'm sorry for is getting caught. I gotta apologise for popping open the cookie jar in the first place."

Shawn's stomach growled. He stopped pacing, looking down at his abdomen as if it had spoken to him.

"... Cookies, huh?" That was… Perfect. That was-

“-why I need to use your kitchen, capisce?” Shawn was leaning both elbows on the counter, chin propped in one hand, chewing his gum furiously and bouncing one leg so hard he kept knocking his knee against the pastry display case. He’d spent extra time on his hair, pulled out some of his more understated jewellery, touched up his nails, even applied a little bit of makeup. Just enough to make his eyelashes more noticeable when he fluttered them pleadingly and to cover up the bruise on his temple beneath his bangs, something Shawn earned in his latest match before Diesel could interfere. It was one of the things they’d fought over, but he omitted that part of the story when he explained his dire situation to the barista working the hotel café. He was young, probably college age, with enough piercings and processed hair to make Shawn suspicious of how he scored a job in the hospitality industry but, hey, whatever, who was he to judge? He was a jacked, 6’1” dude trying to coerce this kid into letting him use his employer’s kitchen to bake cookies for a man he nearly kicked in the jaw because he was angry at himself, after all. To drive his point home, Shawn bat his eyelashes up at him and clasped his hands together pleadingly.

“I don’t know, man….” The barista’s name tag read ‘Silas.’ “I can’t let you back here.”

“And I understand that,” Shawn responded immediately, spreading his hands out, palms pointed down and fingers splayed. He nodded sympathetically. “This is really important, my livelihood- our friendship could depend on this. How ‘bout you give me the stuff and I’ll, uh, I’ll mix the batter, and you can… Cook it for me?”

After a few moments of silence that lasted an eternity for Shawn, Silas sighed, shoulder’s slumping. He shook his head and resumed cleaning the whipped cream canister tips. Poor kid, he was probably only holding this job down because he desperately needed the cash and would move onto the next shitty gig in the next shitty town as soon as he had the gas money. Shawn pulled out his wallet, licked a finger, and leafed through a few bills. “I can comp ya for it.”

“No, that’s, uh,” Silas mumbled, searching for the least offensive words. “Unprofessional. Can you wait here a sec?”

All too happy to tuck his wallet away, Shawn nodded vigorously and resumed his leaning on the countertop, practically dancing foot to foot. Silas’s eyes were dark and soft, warm, his sympathy genuine - he wasn’t just taking pity on Shawn, and he held up a single finger with chipped black nail polish before he disappeared into the kitchen behind him. When he returned, he was carrying a plastic mold and a few transparent bags. He laid them all on the counter and nudged them towards Shawn. “Here, you can use these. Bring back the molds and whatever you don’t use, please?”

“Uh, thanks?” Shawn replied, dumbfounded. He picked up the mold and turned it over in his hands, realising the shapes were… Little teddy bears holding hearts. The bags contained paper lollipop sticks, cellophane wrappers, and satin ribbons. “Hey, Silas, pal? What am I supposed to do with these?”

Silas winced before getting his face under control. A little too under control, unfortunately, his tone deadpan. “Chocolate lollipops.”

“...Chocolate lollipops.” Silas nodded. Shawn exhaled slowly and laid the mold down on the counter gently, as if fragile glass. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

Looking taken aback, the teen shrugged a shoulder a first before catching himself. He held up his finger again, ducked back into the kitchen, and returned with a cookbook and notepad, the kind one would tear pages out of and clip to a turn style for a chef to snatch orders from. Placing the book on the countertop, he flipped to the index, trailing down the list until he found what he was looking for and tapped it, mumbling the page number to himself. After turning to it, he laid the notepad on the open page and leaned down so far over it Shawn thought he was going to put his head down and go to sleep. Shawn sort of wanted to do that, honestly, but instead he watched Silas copy the recipe down for him and accepted the paper when it was handed to him. Silas’s writing wasn’t sloppy, but it was sharp, with a flare that reminded Shawn of calligraphy and those moody goth albums Diesel liked. “I adjusted the recipe for you. If you follow these measurements, you won’t need another mold. Do you… Want some measuring spoons and stuff?”

–

Silas sent Shawn back to his room with a full box of stuff, including a hot plate, pot, silicone spatula, and all the ingredients. Initially, he’d tried to convince Shawn to buy the foodstuffs himself, but the fifty dollar bill Shawn somehow coerced him to accept changed his mind. Triumphant, Shawn fumbled with his key until he managed to open the door and tumble into the room, setting up his workspace on the window sill and nightstand in a near-frenzy. The analogue clock clattered to the floor, hotel notepad dropped behind the nightstand, the curtains haphazardly shoved aside. He’d left the do-not-disturb sign on the doorknob and hoped Diesel would heed the warning. Standing back with his hands on his hips, Shawn tapped his foot and assessed his battle station.

It looked perfect. He had already greased the mold and laid the sticks in their little slots, tossing the rest of the cooking spray and sticks on the bed. Beside the mold was powdered sugar, four cellophane wrappers, and four strips of ribbon. To the left were measuring cups, red, off-white, and dark melting chocolates, three metal pots, three piping bags, a pair of scissors, and a jug of water, all lined up on the windowsill. Against the wall left of the window, taking the place of the bedside clock was the plugged in hotplate, pot, three spatulas, and a chocolate thermometer. He couldn’t find any Fun-Tac, so he stuck the recipe to the wood paneling above the hotplate with his chewed gum. Shawn felt pretty damn proud of himself for laying everything out in a mildly coherent order. It took him a really long time, and he had to tie his hair back away from his neck. He almost broke a sweat there.

Pouring water into the pot and a bowl over it, then flipping the hotplate’s switch to ‘on,’ Shawn measured out somewhere around how much of the red melting chocolate was necessary and stood in front of the double boiler, staring. He shuffled from foot to foot. It was too quiet in the room, actually, and he crouched in front of the television set to fiddle with the dials, one hand carefully balancing the metal measuring cup. It was only when he heard the hotplate hissing that he remembered he was boiling water.

“Uh-oh-” Shawn bolted upright, lunging across the room to turn the heat off. It was a miracle he didn’t spill any of the chocolate discs. Without checking the temperature, he poured the chocolate in. It instantly melted into a dark red mess and he snatched up one of the spatulas, stirring furiously, but it kept clumping. “C’mon. What the hell?”

He tried to pick up the bowl but jerked his hand away, shaking his fingers furiously, the spatula dropped in the bowl. He didn’t have any oven mitts. “Ow. Damn, what was that for?” Shawn was almost whining as he carefully lifted the spatula, half the red chocolate stuck to it. It looked sort of… Melty, the silicone bending, looking soft. When he tried to give the muddy chocolate a stir, some of the spatula swirled into it. He was going to have to give Silas way more than a fifty to make up for this, he realised, jogging to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels. He emptied the whole affair into the trash bin and tried again, this time reading the recipe closely and actually measuring the temperature of the bowl before adding the chocolate. The thermometer was held with one hand, the other stirring with a more solid spatula- it took him a few tries to figure out which hand should do what, and more than once he nearly checked the spatula and stirred with the thermometer. Behind him, the television was playing an episode of Family Feud, volume too low to make anything out.

“This is harder than it looks. That punk actually knows how to make these?” The Heartbreak Kid was muttering to himself, consulting the recipe again as he removed his earrings and threw them on the bed. “Looks like… I cool it down a little bit and put it in the piping bag next. That’s doable.”

By the time he looked down again, the chocolate was already starting to harden at the edges. He gave it a quick stir before pouring it into one of the piping bags, remembering his mother doing something similar when she’d make butter cookies on Saturday nights. Something about the memory made him miss Marty. Shaking the thought off, he snipped the bottom of the piping bag a little too wide, shuffled to the mold, and tried to be meticulous about filling the hearts the bears held. He overfilled the first one, nailed the second and third, and didn’t have enough chocolate for the fourth. Damn. “Big deal, Diesel wouldn’t eat four of these, anyway.”

He tossed the empty bag in the garbage, set the bowl aside, and realised how exhausting this whole process was when he looked at the dirty spatula. Next up was the white chocolate, so he’d use the clean spatula for that, but reuse the dirty one for the regular chocolate. The brown should cancel out the red, right? The process went more smoothly this time around, Shawn even getting the ratios right when filling in the little bows around the bears’ necks. Somehow everything went wrong the second he thought he had everything under control; Shawn forgot to check the temperature before adding the last batch of chocolate, which he suspected he measured wrong due to misreading the numbers, and he had to snatch the bowl up and stir like his life depended on it. The chocolate smoothed out thankfully and the spatula didn’t melt, but it was way too much, and when he glanced at the mold he realised he hadn’t let the white chocolate cool enough before pouring it. Only the last bear’s bow wasn’t deformed, and the first bear’s heart had expanded during hardening and oozed into other portions of the mold.

The chocolate in his hands started to harden before it was all melted and he got it back on the heat, trying to get into the rhythm of stirring and temperature checking again, but he kept forgetting the number and he was probably stirring too much and this was way, way too much chocolate and he was going to get Silas fired and-

A knock on the door made Shawn jump right as he was taking the chocolate off the heat. Luckily, he was able to make it tumble out of his hand towards the window sill, and somehow the bowl landed upright with a loud clang.

“Shawn?” Diesel’s voice came from the other side of the door. Shit. Shit, shit- “I’m coming in.”

“Wait-” Diesel didn’t wait, unlocking the door even before he spoke, and froze when he saw Shawn’s makeshift kitchen. Initially, his expression was vacant. Even with his sunglasses, Shawn could tell he was trying to process this, and Shawn didn’t know what else to do but stand there clutching the red-and-brown chocolate covered spatula, staring at Diesel helplessly. He was vaguely aware that the chocolate might harden before he could get it into the mold but wasn’t sure what to do about that. Diesel blinked. Shawn cleared his throat, voice strained, a little higher than he would’ve liked. “I’m, uh, sorry.”

“For… What? Are you making d-”

“No! God, no,” Shawn barked out a forced laugh and ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels. He felt sweat run down his forehead and his face flush. His face couldn’t decide if it wanted to smile or grimace. “No. I’m making chocolate suckers.”

“...Okay?” Diesel inched into the room almost cautiously and closed the door behind him, moving like Shawn’s delicious confectionery concoctions were wild animals that would leap out of the mold and maul him. Maybe there was something to that, with how bad Shawn screwed them up. “And you’re sorry for making chocolate lollipops?”

“Yeah- no- hold on-” Suddenly remembering the chocolate again, Shawn almost dropped the spatula and whirled around, snatching up the bowl and furiously shoveling the swiftly hardening chocolate into the cavities, foregoing the piping bag altogether. More accurately, he dumped the contents of the bowl onto the mold, positive he didn’t measure correctly as he watched the chocolate cover the entire surface even after filling out the rest of the bears. Some of the chocolate had hardened, creating little lumps here and there. Defeated, Shawn heaved a frustrated sigh and tossed the bowl and spatula on the windowsill. “Fuck.”

“Shawn,” his partner’s voice came from right behind him, fingers grazing his arm. Diesel spoke so softly Shawn almost cried, stomping his foot before pivoting on it, hands fluttering up Diesel’s arms, over his chest and up, hands settling on his neck. He felt jittery. He was so tired. He could run a marathon and sleep for a week at the same time, and he wanted nothing more than to twist Diesel’s arm until his elbow dislocated, except maybe drag Diesel into bed- “Shawn.”

“Whuh?” Shawn blinked, hard. His nose felt runny, his throat tight, face hot. He sniffed, blinking back tears and inhaling sharply. His chest felt like an airplane cabin that forgot to depressurise. At some point Diesel had pushed his shades into his hair and was looking at him with concern, hands hovering just under Shawn’s elbows. He was trying not to cringe at how hard Shawn was rubbing his thumbs against the sides of his neck, but when Shawn jerked his hands away, Diesel quickly clapped them back against his skin with his own hands. The leather of his gloves was so soft. It made Shawn want to cry. “Yeah?”

“You’re okay. Tell me what’s going on?”

“I screwed it up,” Shawn laughed. It sounded wet. Gross. “I screwed up, okay? I’m sorry, I’m an impulsive asshole and I never should’ve kicked you or got in your face and you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just an asshole, and I’m supposed to be making it up to you and apologising but I’m fucking stupid and can’t read and-”

“Whoa,” Diesel squeezed Shawn’s hands, fingers pressing into his knuckles. He slid his grip down Shawn’s arms slowly, hovering over the junction of his arm and torso only briefly before grasping him more firmly, hands coming to rest over Shawn’s waist. He squeezed again and Shawn shuffled closer involuntarily. He was learning he loved when Diesel held him more than almost anything else in the world, maybe even more than rhinestones and gold camera flashes and- “Pump the breaks, Heartbreak. Let me get this straight: You’re making chocolate lollipops to apologise to me?”

Feeling a pathetic wave of shame, Shawn nodded. He couldn’t look at Diesel’s face anymore, laser focused on his Adam's apple. Diesel didn’t acknowledge it if he noticed.

“Okay. Thanks. I forgive you.” What? Shawn frowned, trying to process that. No, that wasn’t right. What? Diesel kept talking though, not giving him any time to parse what he was saying out. “And you’re making these lollipops, but it’s not going well.”

“Silas wrote the whole recipe for me and he gave me all this crap and I really, really should’ve just- just bought my own, because he’s not supposed to, but his handwriting is so stupid and fancy and-”

“Who the hell is Silas?”

“The barista, Diese!” Shawn stomped a foot and pat Diesel’s neck firmly, glaring, suddenly indigent. He could feel a tension headache forming as his eyebrows furrowed and a scowl threatened to twist his face. “Downstairs, in the- the bakery- thing! I bribed him to give me his shit and he copied the recipe for me and I fucked it up and now what am I supposed to do, huh?”

“Okay,” Diesel mumbled, squeezing Shawn’s waist again. Shawn’s leg was jittering, a staccato much unlike his stomps when tuning up the band. He didn’t like that but didn’t have time to dwell on it, thoughts coming to an abrupt halt when Diesel wrapped his big arms around him and squeezed. Shawn’s arms wrapped around his neck, Diesel’s stubble scratching against his cheek. Diesel huffed, the sound muffled by Shawn’s shoulder. “Alright. Let the chocolate cool and we’ll pry the lollipops out, okay?”

‘Kay,” Shawn whispered, voice cracking. He leaned all his weight against Diesel and played with the ends of his hair. He hadn’t gelled it back, his bangs parted in the middle, and the back was wavy but flipping up and out. It was soft, maybe a little frizzy from excessive flat iron use. That was Shawn’s fault, though. They stayed like that for a while, Shawn gradually gaining awareness of the Family Feud audio still quietly playing in the background. He muttered without realising he was even doing it until it was too late to stop himself. “Cowboys.”

“What?” Baffled, Diesel drew back from their extended hug, mindfully shifting Shawn’s weight back onto his feet. Shawn pointed at the television behind Diesel’s back as the speakers dinged, the word ‘COWBOYS’ displaying on the board. Forty-seven people had responded to the survey with ‘cowboys’, Diesel noticed as he turned around. He hadn’t even realised the game show was on. “Cowboys.”

“Cowboys,” Shawn echoed, nodding sagely. “‘Name something that Texas is famous for.’ Cowboys.”

“...Cowboys,” Diesel said again. He snapped out of his trance and turned back to Shawn with a raised eyebrow, patting his shoulder. “Why don’t we pop those suckers out?”

“You wanna help?” A grin threatened to split Shawn’s face, his mood deftly swinging upwards. Energy coursed through him again and he didn’t notice how tired Diesel looked as he spun, picking up the filled mold and holding it out to Diesel. Some of the chocolate had dripped over the edge during hardening, creating a single slab of chocolate with four sticks embedded in it. Shawn beamed despite this. ”I made them myself. D’you have a knife? We can carve them out.”

“I’ll get a knife,” his bodyguard assured him, examining the chocolate. “Wait here.”

While Diesel meticulously carved the chocolate bears out, Shawn laid on the bed, kicking his legs and flipping through the SkyMall catalogue he’d stolen from the flight he took to meet Diesel the first time. He hadn’t gotten the chance to look at it before then, and he tossed it onto the opposite bed when Diesel held up the four misshapen, heart-clutching bears at Shawn, freed from their chocolatey prison. Shawn rolled off the bed and landed on his feet, knees bent, springing to Diesel’s side in a motion akin to a leap. “Mission success.”

“These look great, big daddy.” He whistled, plucking only the best bear from Diesel’s hand and spinning it around. “Wrap ‘em.”

Diesel snorted and handed Shawn a second lollipop, along with two of the wrappers. Diesel was significantly more graceful when fitting his wrappers over his pops, Shawn struggling to hold both of them at once and muscling through it. He followed Diesel’s lead and twisted the ends around the sticks, apprehensively looking at the ribbons Diesel held out to him but not making any move to take them. After a few seconds, his partner took back the bear he handed Shawn, trading it for a singular, pink satin ribbon. Shawn beamed, leaned over the lollipops to give Diesel’s cheek an almost comical smooch, and went to work. He ended up having to sit down and wedge the stick between his thighs to tie the ribbon on prettily enough. By the time it was ready to present to Diesel, the big man had already tied off his three ribbons, sticks clutched between the fingers of his left hand. Oh.

Uncertain, Shawn held the lollipop out, brought it back towards himself, then fully extended his arm towards Diesel. The bottom of the stick was pointing at him. “Sorry. For being such a jerk.”

“Eh, you’re my jerk.” Accepting the lollipop, Diesel laid all four of them on the windowsill and opened his arms instead. Shawn didn’t hesitate, barreling into Diesel so hard he nearly toppled his chair backwards. “Oof. Launch a torpedo at me next time, why dontcha?”

Shawn laughed and covered Diesel’s face in obnoxious kisses, ignoring his protests.

“Fired?” Silas repeated, taking the notice from the hotel owner. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him sternly, body language saying ‘I knew hiring you was a bad idea’ despite her silence. He scratched the back of his head, shrugged, and figured this would give him more time to focus on his band, at least. “That’s fair. Do I get comped for my PTO?”

#[ colour commentary ]#big daddy cool diesel #the heartbreak kid #[ voyager ]#:3c #[ seven ]#[ slater ]#mango provided the prompt but this one is for u guys. enjoy some of the only non-horror content i've been able to write for these two #featuring a special guy that i won't tag because i want it to be a surprise for mango #123kid #[ mango madness ]#[ requests ]#long post

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rome5683 · 3 years

Text

A 'Sociopath's Touch

Chapter Ten : Dearly Departed

Words: 6193

Summary: It's the storm after the fluff. You and Kai go to help Damon get his mom back, and everything goes wrong. Again.

Kai’s hands moved the hangers quickly down the rack, cursing when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. “Am I even in the right section- I mean, what is this?”

“This is Walmart. You get what you buy.” Damon scowled as he leaned against a wooden platform that had folded clothes against it, furring his brow at Kai.

“And it’s not exactly snowing here, either.” Jacob said from the other side of the rack, “So yeah, their selections for parkas aren’t exactly bussin’.”

Damon stood, looking at Jacob with annoyance, “What did you just say?”

“Uh…” Jacob hesitated, face filled with both anger and fear. The man who killed him was asking rudely what he just said.

“Bussin’.” Kai smirked at Jacob’s relieved expression, relief to be free from any type of confrontation, and looked to Damon with a raised brow. “What’s wrong, old man? Can’t get with the times?”

Damon scoffed, “Do you even know how to use anything that plugs in?”

Kai smiled sarcastically, “Do you even know how to speak to anyone younger than you?”

Damon was about to speak when Jacob interceded with a laugh, “Does he even know anyone older than him?”

Damon raised a brow towards your brother, “I will kill you, again.”

Kai smirked and chanted under his breath, causing Damon to groan and clutch his forehead before the spell went away. He glared at Kai, who smirked wider. “Do that, and I will kill you. Capisce?”

Damon frowned, walking away to look for his own parka.

You were indecisive at the moment- the black one looked more chic, but the white one looked so classy. You looked at Elena, who sat nearby with a bored expression. You held them both up to her, “Which one do you think I should get?”

She sighed, “I don’t know, (Y/N). Can you just hurry up?”

“God…” You rolled your eyes, deciding to go with the white parka instead of the black one. It was easier to get dirty, sure, but hell of a lot cuter. Especially with those dark jeans you would wear… and those white snow boots you spotted in the other section. You hung the black parka where it belonged, grumbling with annoyance, “You’re such a killjoy.”

“It’s not like you’re a breeze to get along with- and I don’t usually get along with people who try to threaten me, so-“

You looked at her with a raised brow as you folded the white parka over your arm, “I did what I had to do, okay? I needed a break- my family needed a break.”

She raised a brow back, crossing her arms, “So Kai’s your family now?”

You let out a soft exhale, not even thinking twice about that fact. You and Kai… you had more than just a connection. More than attraction- you had a bond. A deep and real bond. You shrugged, a hint of a smile on your lips, “Pretty much.”

Elena softened slightly, “Look, I get what you mean. At first, when I was still human- I took a break from all this for a bit.”

You nodded, remembering when she told you about the first break she had with Stefan.

“And we need it sometimes, we really do. And… I understand that you threatened me for a good reason.” She furrowed her brows in confusion, a smile on her face.

You laughed at that, causing Elena to chuckle as well. “I’m… a little sorry about that.”

Elena smiled widely, “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s all fine.”

You smiled back, until a sudden wave of nausea overcame you. You felt confused, swallowing the lump in your dry throat all of a sudden, and shoved the white parka in Elena’s hands. You ran towards the nearest restroom, running to the nearest stall. You couldn’t help it as vomit came out, and the taste of it made your face cringe.

Elena followed you, holding your back and patting your back soothingly, and looking on in confusion. “What’s happening to you?”

You flushed the toilet, gasping as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. You shook your head, standing and going to the sink to wash your hand and rinse out your mouth.

Elena gently grasped your shoulder when you were done, “Are you okay?”

You exhaled shakily, “Is it possible for vampires to get food poisoning?”

Elena spoke soft and low, “I’ve been a vampire for about two and half years now, and I’ve never-“

“It isn’t possible.” You murmured at first, then looked at Elena as you grasped her shoulders. “Tell me this isn’t possible.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes saying everything she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. Then, she nodded with a sudden determination in her eyes. “Only one way to find out.”

You shrieked, throwing the fifth pregnancy test against the bathroom wall with frustration. A woman walked out of the nearby stall, barely glancing at you two with a frightened expression as she washed her hands and scurried out of the store’s restroom.

Elena grasped her forehead, stressing herself out, “There’s no way.”

“Obviously, there is!” You exasperated, grabbing the first four you took and showing them to her in a dramatic way. “They’re all positive, aren’t they?!”

“I mean, this is literally impossible.” She scoffed in disbelief, taking one of them and shaking her head at the positive results.

You scoffed with frustration, “We live in a world where witches, vampires, doppelgängers, wolves, and even hybrids between all those things exist. This is definitely up there on the list as possible…”

“Not to mention the other type of creatures you’ve left out…” She looked away, before looking back at you with a slightly confused expression.

You raised a brow, “What is it?”

“I mean… how much sex have you and Kai been having?” Elena let out a nervous laugh.

Your lips widened with a grin, and you looked away as you tried to wipe it off your face. You shook your head as your cheeks reddened, failing to come up with a good answer, or even estimate.

“I’m guessing it was a lot.” Elena smirked at your pink-tinted cheeks, “Anyhow, you cannot come with us today.”

You frowned, “The hell I can’t.”

“What happens if something goes wrong?” Elena stressed her words, raising her voice, “What happens if Kai and Bonnie fight, and you get hurt in the process? You can’t take that risk- you can’t leave Jacob alone-“

“Don’t you think I know that?!” You snapped, and slightly faltered at Elena’s hurt expression. You clasped your hands together in front of your face, sighing and trying to keep your composure. You looked back up at her as you spoke, “As much as Jacob matters to me, and as much as I am determined to make it back to him… I cannot risk Damon, or Bonnie, or even you leaving Kai there. I can’t let him be abandoned again. Not after everything we’ve built together...” You winced slightly, “Not after everything he’s been through.”

Elena sighed, coming closer and embracing you. You hugged her back, sighing with relief. Hopefully she would understand…

You pulled away, looking at Elena with slightly teary eyes, “Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t tell him.”

She faltered slightly, “What do you mean?”

“If everything goes right today, I want to be the one to tell him.” You half-smiled, before going back to your serious expression. “But if it doesn’t, and something happens to me… I don’t want that extra weight on his mind.”

“But-“ Her voice slightly broke, but you shook your head.

“Elena.” You spoke sharply, making her stay silent with widened eyes. “You can never tell anyone. Please…” You pleaded with her, “Please do this for me.”

She swallowed, and nodded as she squeezed your hands reassuringly, and walked out of the restroom. You let out a shaky sigh, your hand subconsciously drifting to your abdomen… you couldn’t believe it. A part of you was elated, glad that this was even possible and that you two could practically have a future together. Another part of you was frightened to death. You were still in college, you still had a lot of plans and none of them had ever involved this… but here you were. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And as much as you weren’t exactly prepared for a kid to be in your life, you knew Kai would be there a hundred percent of the way for your guys’ child, and you knew that no matter what, you wanted this.

You looked to the mirror, straightening your posture before inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly, and walking out of the store’s restroom.

Your eyes widened to see Elena at her lover’s side, looking at him with a pleading look. Damon looked over with a raised brow, and you felt cold at that knowing look in his eye.

Elena scowled, softly hitting his abdomen. “Promise me, Damon.”

“Fine.” He scoffed, his eyes glancing to your belly before looking at your uneasy expression with a slight smirk. “Your secret is safe with me.”

You nodded with relief, about to thank him before you were interrupted.

“Who’s secret is safe with who?” Kai popped up from behind Damon and Elena, a grin on his face. Jacob followed, wearing an amused expression.

“It’s a secret.” Damon winked at Kai, causing Elena to groan.

Jacob scoffed, “Can I at least know?”

Elena chuckled, “It’s not a secret if everyone knows.

Kai walked over to you with a slight pout, his hand drifting your waist absentmindedly. “Why are you keeping secrets from me?”

You laughed as he pecked your cheek, “It’s more of a surprise, really. I’ll tell you later.”

He grinned again, his eyes smiling as his blue eyes sparkled with delight. “Promise?”

You smirked up at him, “I promise.”

You could hear Damon scoff from the living room as you took your time getting ready in the restroom. He shouted, “Uh? Tick tock, woman! How long does it take to change?”

Elena shushed him, and Kai spoke up next. “I mean, she doesn’t take that long-“

You exited the restroom, your black skinny jeans, white boots, and white parka complimenting each other as you let your hair down. You also put on a little bit of makeup, because why not? You gave Damon a raised brow and gestured to your appearance, “You think all this magic just happens?”

Kai grinned, his winter outfit, slightly messy hair, and beard making him look scrumptious, “Looks like magic to me.”

Damon and Jacob groaned simultaneously, while Elena grinned. You blushed, smiling widely and walking into Kai’s arms as he hugged you close to him and he pecked your forehead. You looked at Jacob and sighed, “I’ll be back, okay?”

Jacob nodded, getting up and giving you a hug. “Be safe.”

“I will.” He squeezed you close, and patted your shoulder as he sat onto your guys’ couch. Damon rolled his eyes.

“Okay. Let’s get this prison world train going.” The old vampire went to open the door, letting Elena pass before he went. Kai caught the door before it closed, holding it open for you as well. You waved goodbye to Jacob through the door, and followed Damon and Elena to Damon’s car.

Elena held open the passenger seat, and you climbed in happily with Kai in tow. He grunted as he sat next to you, shifting into a comfortable position with his arm around you. You leaned into him, enjoying the feel of him against you as you closed your eyes. You woke up pretty early to go to the store for all your clothes, and Kai stayed up late to get the ascendant for the 1903 prison world which of course you waited up for him, so you were a little tired- especially considering the fact you and Kai had a little romp in the shower this morning. Again- you barely had any sleep.

You slipped into a light sleep, feeling yourself sigh as you finally slipped into the pleasing darkness that was sleep. Kai shifted a little, and you moaned with slight annoyance before getting comfortable again.

Damon grunted as he started pulling out of the parking lot, “If I hear kissing, groaning, or any other moan- I will kill you both.”

“Damon,” Elena scolded.

Kai smirked, looking down at your sleeping form. Just looking at you was enough to make him melt inside. He ran his hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear as you sighed happily in your sleep.

“What?” Damon exasperated, clearly annoyed with your guys’ affection.

Elena shook her head with a laugh, amused at the way Damon was so bothered.

“Where are they…” Bonnie grumbled to herself, nervous as hell. Nervous, because she has been planning to kill Kai. And she was a little scared, but of course- who would admit that? Not only that- but she knew Jo could die… but a part of her didn’t care. She wanted Kai gone- or at least abandoned in the prison world like he had abandoned her. Stabbed, and left to die on her own.

As soon as the door opened, she stood. Her nerves were on end, watching them come through the door one by one. Finally, Kai and (Y/N) came through the door.

You barely glanced at Bonnie, clutching Kai’s hand with an intense hold which only made him squeeze back in reassurance. Elena went upstairs for a second, and you wondered briefly why. You weren’t scared of Bonnie, but still were tense around her.

Damon sighed, standing next to Bonnie. “Let’s get this show on the road. Kai, ascendant?”

Kai reluctantly let go of your hand, and went to take the ascendant out of his pocket. He approached Bonnie, conflicted whether to try to be nice or hold the grudge of hurting you again. However conflicted he was, he wasn’t exactly good with poker faces. His face was obviously annoyed and perplexed as he stood there with the ascendant in hand.

Bonnie pulled out a knife, cutting her hand and letting the blood trickle onto the ascendant. Kai huffed, “Damn. Crocodile Dundee called, he wants his knife back.”

You smirked to yourself, you’ve always loved Kai’s snarky comments.

“You know, he’s no longer a thing, and neither is that joke.” Bonnie quipped back, sheathing her hunting knife.

Kai raised a brow and let out a slight hiss, “Ouch.”

Elena huffed, coming back with a parka of her own and standing next to Bonnie. “Is this acceptable attire by 1903 standards?”

You shrugged, about to speak up when Damon interrupted, “Whoa, who said you’re coming?”

“To meet the woman who gave birth to the two epic loves of my life? Me.”

You grinned, “Plus I’m going, so it isn’t fair not to let Elena, out of all people, go.”

Damon scoffed, looking at Kai and Bonnie. “Isn’t there a limit?”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, “Right, which is why there’s two of us. So shall we?”

“Fine. Let’s go get Mom.” Damon huffed, and Elena grasped Bonnie’s shoulder while holding Damon’s. In turn, you grasped Kai’s shoulder and smiled encouragingly when he glanced at you with a somewhat worried expression.

“Sangiema meam et nos mundo carcerema.” Kai chanted, and you couldn’t help but look at him in awe with the way he spoke. He really was a powerful witch. “Sangiema meam et nos mundo carcerema.”

A bright light flashed, changing your surroundings while you were blinded- and before you knew it, you could feel the snow falling onto your hair and cheeks. You let out an amazed laugh, looking around to see you were in a snowy Mystic Falls, but in the woods. This was really amazing, and for a second- you forgot how gruesome real life magic was- and remembered how magical and awe-inspiring it was. Kai grinned at your reaction as you looked up at the snow falling.

“Well, isn’t this a picturesque slice of hell?” Damon spoke, and Bonnie let out a small sigh.

“You guys go ahead. Kai and I will start the locator spell on the ascendant.”

Elena frowned in confusion, “But Kai just has the ascendant. Why do we have to find another one?”

Kai shrugged, “The ascendant can’t travel between worlds, which means we gotta find its mirror image here in 1903.”

“Page 10 on the world-jumping rule-book. Shall we?” Damon went to walk away, not even looking back as Elena stayed behind hesitantly.

Kai wandered away, his head tilting up to stick his tongue out at the snowflakes. You smiled at his childish antics, and Elena pulled you and Bonnie aside.

“I don’t… I don’t want to leave you guys alone with him.”

You felt confused at Elena, wondering why she was so concerned when she knew how much Kai cared about you, “Elena, we’ll be fine.”

“He’s good now, remember? New leaf.” Bonnie stated, making you frown in further confusion. Bonnie wasn’t one to believe in Kai so easily.

“It’s-It’s not that.” Elena stammered, “I just…” She sighed, defeated. “Just play nice, the both of you.”

She turned, following after Damon as you and Bonnie exchanged a look of suspicion towards one another.

“New leaf.” You both turned to see Kai approaching you both, his head cocked to the side as he analyzed Bonnie. “You believe me.”

“Hell no.” Bonnie’s voice rang out with an edge, and you bristled with annoyance. “But Damon and Elena need to meet his mom alone. So shut up and help me find the ascendant.”

Bonnie held out her hand, and Kai sighed as he took off a glove and pricked his finger. As he let the blood sleep onto the other witch’s hand, he sighed somewhat awkwardly before speaking up, “You have really nice palms.”

You looked at him with a raised brow, both confused and annoyed. Kai shrugged with an awkward smile, and Bonnie scoffed under her breath.

“Phasmatos Tribum, Nas Ex Veras, Sequitas Sanguinem.”

Kai stayed quiet as she changed, before blurting words out. “I really have changed, you know?”

Bonnie ignored him, continuing to chant. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb back and forth. Kai looked at you, and grabbed your other hand, placing it on his cheek for comfort as he closed his eyes. You placed your other hand on his other cheek, and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “I believe you.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but when he heard it- he believed it. God, he loved you. He loved the way you loved him. He leaned into your hand, softly pressing his lips against your wrist with a gentle peck.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You both turned to see Bonnie’s disgusted expression, and Kai rolled his eyes as Bonnie walked past you both. “The ascendant is this way.”

As Bonnie walked away, Kai quickly and discreetly gave you a peck on the lips. You smiled, kissing him back before he took your hand and started to follow Bonnie through the woods.

After a couple minutes, Bonnie spoke up. “The spell feels stronger. The ascendant must be around here somewhere.”

Kai scoffed, “Why would the ascendant be here?”

Bonnie turned and frowned at him, “I don’t know. I didn’t put it here.”

Kai rolled his eyes, letting go of your hand and looking around the snow. You did the same, walking a couple paces away to look for the ascendant.

“If you don’t think I’m capable of change, why spend an entire day with me? Why bring me out in the middle of nowhere?”

You hummed in thought, wondering about what Kai was saying as you glanced around the snow for the ascendant.

“I mean… I could gut you all over again. Your friends would never even hear you scream.”

Bonnie sighed, “Because maybe you’re right. Maybe, deep down, there’s a part of me that believes there’s a sliver of good in you.”

“And you’d be right!” Kai laughed, almost disbelievingly. “Looking, looking, and… nope, they didn’t hide the ascendant in a pile of snow over here or over-“

You groaned, feeling a sharp pain as a stake went into your throat. You keeled over, grasping for it desperately. You looked behind you, seeing Bonnie raise a brow behind Kai, and you realized she must’ve thrown it with her magic.

Kai looked over, confused before sharply gasping as he was stabbed in the back by Bonnie’s large hunting knife. He fell onto the floor, attempting to crawl away when Bonnie stabbed his thigh from behind.

“Bonnie!” You heard Kai groan, and the drive to help overpowered.

You grunted, taking the stake out of your throat. You gasped, being able to breathe once more. You looked over, seeing Bonnie’s back to you as she leaned over Kai with her knife in hand.

“What are you doing?!” You screamed, making her glare back at you.

“Gaining his trust, and then stabbing him in the back? Sound familiar?!” She turned back to Kai, and your boyfriend winced in pain.

“Please, don’t, Bonnie-”

“Don’t what? Don’t-Don’t leave you here? All alone?!” She shouted, justifiably enraged. “Don’t abandon you and make you feel hopeless?!”

“Please, Bonnie! He’s changed-” You interceded.

“I have! Bonnie, please, please believe me. I’ve changed.” Kai whimpered, desperately.

“And I have to.” Bonnie spoke, her voice unwavering as she raised the knife above Kai.

You used her focus on him to speed towards her, pushing her and yourself yards away from where Kai lay on the ground. You stood using your super-speed about a foot away from Bonnie, seeing her get up with her knife, and she was suddenly charging towards you now. You held your hands out, “Wait, Bonnie! Wait!”

Bonnie didn’t stop, gritting her teeth as she used her other to cast a spell. You were suddenly immobilized, and you had to spit it out. You had to tell her.

“Bonnie, don’t! Please, I’m pregnant!”

Silence. She stopped midway, panting and looking at you in disbelief. You let out a grunt of relief, her magic releasing you now. She shook her head, “That’s-That’s not possible.”

“Bonnie…” You started, and she suddenly placed her hand on your stomach. The words died in your throat, and you looked at her confused while she closed her eyes in concentration. She gasped, eyes widened and looked at you with an unfathomable expression.

She backed away, dropping her knife with widened eyes. “You… How… You and Kai… pregnant.”

“Bonnie, he’s the father of my child, and the man I’m in love with.” You let out, somewhat disbelieving the words that came out of your own mouth. Despite that, you continued. “I know he’s hurt you, I know he’s manipulated you. I know-”

“What do you know of what I’ve been through?! What do you know of what HE put me through?!”

“Because not too long ago, he did the same to me!” You shrieked, suddenly feeling emotional when you recalled the incident with Elena. “When we kidnapped Elena, he made me bleed… he siphoned her almost to the point of desiccation. And she was hungry- and she chased me-”

Bonnie furrowed her brows with a shake of her head, “That’s literally horrible.”

“And then I ended up being killed… by you.” You finished, scoffing with humor at the whole situation. “As horrible as all of it was, here I am. With Kai, with his baby in my stomach, and begging for your forgiveness.”

“I’m not going to forgive him, (Y/N)-”

“Not for him. For me, Bonnie.” You let out another laugh, a stray tear releasing from your left eye from all the emotions you’re going through. “I don’t want this. I don’t want these fights. I want a normal life. As normal as I can get with a siphon boyfriend and a werewolf brother…”

Bonnie bit her bottom lip, suddenly perplexed with the whole situation.

“And as much as you hate Kai… Just… Please, don’t kill him. When we leave here, we’ll move away and you’ll never have to see us ever again. If that’s what it’ll take, I genuinely don’t care… Just, please, forgive me. And if not, the very least you can do is let my child have a father.”

Bonnie shook her head, turning away from you.

“Bonnie, I’m sorry. For everything that he and I have put you through, I am genuinely so sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt you.” You sighed heavily, “I understand if you don’t accept my apology, or don’t forgive me. I get it. But I can’t let you kill Kai. I won’t.”

Bonnie huffed, turning to face you with a guilty expression. She spoke swiftly, “I never want to see either of you again.”

You let out an exhale of relief, watching Bonnie walk in the opposite direction of where she had been leading you and Kai. Oh my god, Kai!

You sped over to where you could hear his groans, and knelt by his grunting form.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Kai.” You gasped at the sight of the blood pooling around his thigh, and could feel yourself start to panic as Kai looked at you with a desperate and pained look. All the blood, it was… you could feel your face transform at the smell of it. Your heart was beating, but his was beating louder- and you were suddenly so hungry.

“(Y/N)-” Kai’s hand grasped your thigh, and you suddenly focused back into reality.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” You bit your wrist roughly, barely even wincing at the pain. You grasped the back of Kai’s neck, helping him lean upwards and pressed your wrist against his mouth. He drank your blood greedily, and you breathed deeply, in and out, desperately trying to curb your appetite. It wasn’t like you were starving- you had dranken blood just this morning after the morning sickness incident with Elena. You were okay, you were okay…

Kai groaned into you, brows furrowed as he drank for only seconds more before pulling away. He gasped, sitting up and hissing in discomfort as his wounds started to heal. “Agh… God, that hurts like a bitch.”

You rubbed his back soothingly, still kneeling next to his sitting position, staying silent as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. He leaned his head onto your chest suddenly, and you were a little startled when he was silent, but you didn’t mind. You ran your hand through his hair, softly raking your nails against his scalp in the way Kai loved. Both of you stayed there for god knows how long in the snow, and you were brought out of your silence when Kai shivered. You gently grasped his head, moving him from your chest, and looked at his face.

He had a pensive expression, still silent and refraining from glancing at you. You purse your lips in slight annoyance, but merely let out a sigh as you gently grasped his face in your palms. “Kai… Are you okay? Are you cold? How can I help?”

“You…” The words died on his lips, but then his face went from pensive, to forlorn, to determined. “You need to leave.”

You stilled, and slightly shook your head with confusion. “What… What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it?” Kai suddenly pulled away from your grasp, standing and raising his voice as he spoke. “As long as I live, people will want to kill me.”

You stood, furrowing your eyebrows as he continued.

“We can’t just have a life together.”

You frowned, “Why… Why not?”

“Did you not just hear me?” He spoke harshly, his face angry and glaring. You tensed, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “People will want to kill me- to hurt me.”

“And what about it?” You scoffed, “I don’t see how that should stop us from being together.”

“To hurt you, to hurt Jacob, is to hurt me, (Y/N)! Bonnie could’ve killed you!”

“Who cares?! That doesn’t mean we-”

“That’s exactly what it means! I have a whole coven of enemies! I have a whole family of them!”

“So?! That doesn’t matter as long as we’re together!” You could feel yourself start to get emotional, and you hated how you couldn’t control them. “As long as we’re together, we can protect each other! I’m not some fragile little-”

“I don’t care what you are, (Y/N)! I want you to leave!” He yelled sharply, making you still as he grit his teeth. “Now.”

You shook your head, “No.”

“Leave.” His voice spoke gravely, and you could feel your eyes start to tear up. You shook your head again.

“No.” You glared at him, huffing in annoyance when your voice broke. “No! I’m not going to leave you-”

“Leave, or so help me I will-”

“What?! What are you gonna do, Kai?” You stood closer, feeling your chest swell with unease and fear. Not of him, but at the loss of him. You… Kai was a part of you. You couldn’t… no.

“You’ll just stay if I do, won’t you?”

“Hell yeah I will.” You were more determined than him, more stubborn. Who did he think he was to be a martyr, out of all the times to be one? He chose when you were pregnant? This idiotic… little… hot bastard.

He stayed silent, looking away from you and at the floor as his breath hitched. You swallowed, clenching your jaw, and balling your hands into fists. What could he do?

“It’s over.” You looked up at him in alarm, his eyes dead serious as they stared down at you. You shook your head, feeling anger rise as he swallowed and nodded, confirming his own words. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to be near you, near Jake, I…”

“Kai, don’t-”

“I’m breaking up with you.” His own voice slightly broke, and you winced involuntarily. The snow never felt colder, and you withheld a sob. “When we get back, we go our own separate ways. Do you understand?”

You nodded, letting out a shaky exhale as he walked past you and back where you guys had come from. The cold pricked your cheeks, pricked your nose… but the emptiness you felt in your chest was far worse. You followed Kai from a couple feet away, walking in awkward silence, and your eyes widened when you heard it.

“Sangiema meam et nos mundo carcerema. Sangiema meam et nos mundo carcerema.”

“Damon! No-!” Elena’s voice cut off with a small crack, and you gasped in realization.

Bonnie had just started chanting. Elena wouldn’t leave you, of course, but Damon wouldn’t let that happen. Why would he?

Kai looked at you when he noticed you stopped in your tracks with your eyes wide as you processed what you just heard. He walked closer, “What is it?”

“Bonnie… She’s leaving us.”

You two exchanged a look before breaking into a sprint through the woods, which of course you kept at his pace, and stopped when you saw them a couple yards away. You shouted, voice weak, “Bonnie, don’t!”

Bonnie raised a brow at you, continuing to chant as an unconscious Elena rested against a standing Damon, who held hands with a woman you could only assume was Lily. How could she? Why would she? She knew only you could catch up, only you could make contact before the spell was done. She wanted you to leave Kai.

There was no time. The spell would be over soon.

You grit your teeth, grabbing onto Kai. Before he could register what you were about to do, you sped with all your might towards the group about to leave. It was like slow-motion.

You pushed Kai with all your strength towards them, a bright light just shining as you did so. Kai’s expression changed as he realized what was happening, his eyes pleading, his mouth open in a gasp as he held his hand out towards you while he himself fell backwards into the group. You jumped, closing your eyes at the blinding bright light as you reached for his hand.

You fell to the floor with a grunt. Only the floor wasn’t wood like you expected; it was snow. As soon as you opened your eyes, the cold breeze of winter seemed all the much clearer especially since you had expected warmth in the Salvatore lodging house. But no, you were still here. You let out the sob you were holding since earlier, looking around the woods as it snowed, hoping and praying you had been knocked out from the world-jump. That this was only a nightmare. Your hand went to the ascendant in front of you, running your fingers across the cold metal. God, please let this be a nightmare.

That wasn’t the case, though. You were in the 1903 prison world.

And you weren’t alone. You heard something behind you, and turned around as something tackled you onto your back. You shrieked, “Ah!”

Kai grunted as his back crashed against Damon’s front, and was immediately pushed off. As soon as his hands met the wood floor of the Salvatore house, his eyes widened. He let out a gasp, “No. No, no, no.”

He stood, bewildered and looking at a shocked Bonnie and Lily. “Bonnie! Why would you do that- What-”

Bonnie clenched her jaw, and raised her chin defiantly. “(Y/N) made her choice.”

Kai practically snarled, “We have to go back, Bonnie!”

“When we go for my family, I’m sure you could accompany us.” Lily spoke calmly, and Kai glanced at her with incredulity. He knew that Damon lied to her, of course.

“Bonnie, give me the ascendant. Now.” Kai had never been so enraged in his life. Okay, maybe he had- but nothing ever felt like this. Nothing ever hurt him like this.

Bonnie grit her teeth, “No.”

Kai moved forward, only to have a hand on his chest hold him back. Damon. Kai glared up at the vampire, who only raised a brow.

“So you lost your baby mama- get over it.” Damon spoke as if you didn’t matter. As if you were some side-piece who- how- what did he even mean by that?!

“I. Lost. EVERYTHING!” Kai shouted, his voice full of vigor, the fire in the fireplace blazing wildly as he used his magic to throw Damon against the wall and onto the floor. Lily and Bonnie gasped, and in this moment- Bonnie was reminded of Klaus’ tantrums. Kai glared at the witch who had stabbed him earlier, his rage knowing no bounds. “GIVE ME THE ASCENDANT!”

“You want your ascendant?!” Bonnie screamed, taking the one from this world out of her pocket, “Here it is!”

Kai stepped towards her when she held it up, and threw it onto the floor with all her force. Both Kai and Lily screamed, “NO!”

The ascendant fell to the floor, smashing into a million pieces. Lily sped to it, whimpering to herself as she tried to collect all the pieces. “No, no no-”

“Incendia.” Bonnie spoke, lighting it on fire with a smirk. She looked at Kai, satisfied to see his suffering. Maybe it wasn’t justice, but it tasted just as sweet. Lily gasped away from the fire, her eyes tearing up with the loss of her family. Kai’s blue eyes darkened with fury.

Bonnie went to hold her hand out, wanting to fight against Kai, but whimpered when Kai flicked her against the wall only to immobilize her against it. Kai stomped past Lily, approaching Bonnie and grabbing the sides of her head. Bonnie’s eyes widened, realizing that he’d do something just as someone else had done once before. She shook her head, frantic, but powerless. “No, Kai!”

Kai chanted, his brows furrowed and his expression cruel. He didn’t care anymore- he couldn’t. Bonnie gasped, falling to the floor with a sob when Kai pulled away.

Kai huffed, “There. Now you can’t hurt anyone.”

Bonnie shook her head, still sobbing. She couldn’t form the words. Did she feel bad? Yes. Did she feel bad about Kai feeling bad? No. But now- her magic was gone. Kai took it, just like Dr. Martin had all those years again. She felt like a little girl all of a sudden- powerless, and human.

Damon groaned on his side, looking from Bonnie to Kai. “What did you do? Kai? What did you do?”

Kai glanced back at the ascendant, barely even noticing Lily as she glared at Bonnie, and walked towards it. Slowly, he picked up every little piece, no matter how burnt.

“Kai!” Damon stood, enraged at the sight of his best friend’s sobs. “Kai, what did you do?!”

“YOU!” Lily suddenly screamed, lunging for Bonnie.

Damon cursed, speeding to stop his mom. As Damon and his mom argued over Bonnie, Kai silently walked out of the Salvatore house with all the burnt ascendant pieces. Kai didn’t care how long it would take. Kai would fix it- and Kai would get you back.

No matter what.

----

Well, that's all folks. I will continue this series in another work of fiction, starting right from where we left off after a short break. So it's like, gonna be about ten chapters, but be a different name... basically a sequel. Truth be told, I procrastinated so hard on this chapter because the angst was killing me. Oh, what a long time it's been. Anywho- see you in a week or two to continue this angsty and loving fic!!

@fandom-strumpet @fangirlforever2412 @1-800-khaleesii @big-boobi

#kai x reader #tvd kai #kai x you #kai parker fanfic #kai parker gifs #tvd fanfiction #tvdversegifs #tvd fandom #tvdforever #kai parker #hot fanfiction #tvd angst #tvd x reader #tvd au

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hitchell-mope · 3 years

Text

(Third film. After “losing your memory”. Devie are back in their room and Evie looks beyond haunted. Doug is trying to calm her down but it’s not working)

Evie: why didn’t it work?

Doug: I really couldn’t tell you

Evie: of course I know why it didn’t work. I mean it should’ve worked and it didn’t. I still feel the same. I’m still angry. Why am I still angry? You saw me. I was bawling my eyes out.

Doug: the best I can tell you is that your feelings of abandonment aren’t rooted in unknowing. Perhaps. It’s not him you’re sad for. Maybe you’re just sad about what could’ve been. What you could’ve had. With him and Hadie

Evie: they’re going to be wanting an answer

Doug: so you tell them the truth

(In the kitchen)

Mal: you realise you have meat pulp around your face and on your nose right?

Ben: do I? Hm. (He wipes his mouth and nose with the back on his hand, sniffs it, shrugs and licks off). Better? What’s wrong?

Mal (eyes wide as dinner plates): absolutely nothing wrong at all.

Ben (giggling dorkily): ok

Evie (walking hurriedly into the kitchen): I watched the memory. And I have something to say. (Her father and brother look at her hopefully). I’m not ready to forgive you. I might never be ready. But I am willing to takes very small steps into letting you be apart of my life. You just have to let me set the tone. Alright? If not. Then I want nothing to do with either of you and Mal can keep keep you both. Capisce?

Hades: that sounds more then fair.

Hadie: yes. Much more then either of us deserve. Could I have the hat back now?

Evie: take it. Oh! By the way. I might have interfered with the memory a little bit.

Hades: OH! So that was you then. Your spell work is very impressive Evie

Evie: thank you. I think

(Gil is watching from the doorway. Happy to see his family is somewhat getting along, he goes to the living room and flops down next to Lonnie who’s being used as a human pillow by Jane)

Lonnie: you ok?

Gil: yeah. I like it when they’re happy.

Lonnie: you like it when everyone’s happy

Gil: yah cause it’s the greatest emotion evah (Lonnie quietly snorts). It makes a change from when I first got here though. Remember that. Everyone was so sweet to me. But I could tell I got on their nerves

Lonnie: you could never get on anyone’s nerves. It was just a...really weird time for everyone. Belle was trying to get Adam to agree to the divorce. Ben was ordering Uma’s statue. The memorial was being planned. But you always took precedent. You know that. Right?

Gil: yeah. I just don’t like that I made everyone feel they needed to devote all that time to me. I was really difficult to teach. And I cried a lot

Lonnie: never be ashamed of crying. It’s perfectly healthy.

Gil: I know that now. But remember who my birth father is. One misty eye and it was a punch in the face. But at least mom helped me unlearn all of that.

Lonnie: yeah. (Chuckling). Remember, remember that one time after your first month here

Gil (joining her in chuckling): oh god the car. Doug was so sweet. I can tell what Evie sees in him. Whew. That was. That was a good day.

Lonnie: yeah, yeah it was.

(Flashback time. One month after Gil arrives in Auradon. He’s been officially adopted by Belle. And now Doug is trying to teach him to drive. Belle watches out the window of her quarters as Doug and Gil swaps seats. This is when “strange sight” happens. A few weeks after tne song. Belle trudges back into her office. Elsa’s there at her desk, waiting for her)

Belle (wearily): please get out of my chair.

Elsa: only one in this office I can sit in without fixing it. Chocolate liqueur?

Belle: please. (She takes twenty). You will not believe the day I just had

Elsa: Mal filled me in. Some people just can’t take the hint

Belle: I don’t want money, Ben’ll be eighteen soon so I don’t need custody, I just want him out.

Elsa: about that. I, uhm, got bored, and I rifled through the papers you so carelessly left out on the desk and I found something that might be of interest to you. Here you go (she hands Belle a piece of paper) you own the school.

Belle: I know that. I had to twist his arm to let me sign it in my name

Belle: yes. And while you may not need custody or money, you still need to protect what’s yours.

Belle: he could come after the school.

Elsa: precisely.

(Belle flops down onto a couch. Elsa goes to the wet bar)

Belle: he wasn’t always like this you know. He used to be good. But being elected. It warped him. And I can’t

Elsa: it’s not your fault, here, drink. You changed him from beast to man. But he’s still a selfish brat deep down. Nothing you or anyone could’ve done would’ve changed that.

Belle: I know. It’s just

Elsa: irritating? Yah. I got that. You need to take you’re mind off of all this

Belle: what do you suggest?

Elsa: what did carlos make for you’re birthday last week?

Belle: immersive karaoke machine. Why?

Elsa (proofing the machine into the room): pick the song. Unwind. Then wring your ex’s neck

Belle: anything by Beyoncé. Mal got my interest piqued

Elsa: she was a very impressive entertainer

(Elsa clicks the numbers in and everything gets set up. This is when “if I were a boy” happens. After the song. Mal pops her head around the door)

Mal: asset dividing went well I see? Good song choice

Elsa: thank you dear.

Belle: anything wrong Mal?

Mal: nope. Just enjoying the show. Oh. And the WI Dinner. Scorpio room alright?

Belle: should be more then adequate. Is that all?

Mal: no I don’t think so. Just. Don’t worry about Auradon Prep. You’ll think of something. You always do.

Belle: thank you dear. I like the fringe by the way.

Mal: you would be the fourth

Belle: beg pardon?

Mal: well Ben, mom, Gil, and now you. Four. Jay and Carlos tease. Evie’s threatening to shave me bald in my sleep. Doug has no opinion. Dizzy thinks it’d look better on her. And Lonnie and Jane think it makes me look like a soccer mom

Elsa: well then...uh...

Mal: nah don’t worry. I said I’d have it for a month. And it’s been two days. Hopefully my sisters brain will melt from annoyance

Belle: g-good to know

Mal: aces. I’ll leave you to it then. See ya

(She walks down the hall. Artfully dodging the palace staff. Soon though she reaches the main staircase as well as Ben and Adam who’re are in the middle of an argument)

Adam:...if you had just listened to me then none of this ever would’ve happened!

Ben: yes it would’ve dad! Wether you want to face the truth or not, what happened at cotillion could’ve happened at literally any other time. I’m just thankful it happened when the cameras were on us. Cause at least then everyone could see that it’s people like you that drove Uma to it

Adam: of course, I forgot, I’m the bad man for thinking of the kingdom and you’re the alruist for putting up statues of our aggressors!

Mal (having heard enough from Adam): Uma was not an aggressor. The raccoon, yes, but Uma, no. (Adam starts to growl). Oh don’t look at me like that. What are you going to do? Throw a chair at me? (Her eyes glow emerald green). Go on then. Do it! I can more then assure you that it shan’t be me that it makes contact with. (Her eyes return to normal). Give the word Ben and I’ll turn him into something easily burned with a magnifying glass. If not I’ll be in your room

Ben: nah. He’s not worth it. Besides. He’d just start raving again. And nobody needs that. Please dad, just leave.

Adam: you need me son, you need me, Ben. The half dwarf has no idea how to assist you in running this kingdom

Ben: DOUG, knows a right sight more about the inner workings of the kingdom than you do. There’s a reason he’s my major-domo. And I know what you’re thinking. “He’s gonna be crawling back and asking for my help sooner or later. He’ll feel so stupid. Oh how he should’ve listened to me” (he laughs mockingly). Yeah remember I can read minds now. And I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna come crawling back. I’m good, we don’t need you, we’re good, I feel good

(This is when “feeling good” happens. Ben leaves his father twitching on the grass, rubs his face in frustration and poofs to his room. Mal’s in the kitchenette looking at a bottle of her medication)

Mal: I’ve got enough to last until the end of the week. But I’ll go into town and get some more later today. Just to be on the safe side

Ben (distractedly): sounds good

Mal: you ok?

Ben: mhmm...no. It’s just. He gets to me. You know. He knows how to push my buttons

Mal: oooh I’ve been there. You know you can always make an appointment with Milo, right?

Ben: yeah. Just not right now. M’not ready

Mal: that’s ok too. If you’re in the mood for it. We could fit in a quick “flight session” before dinner?

Ben: flight session or “flight session”?

Mal: second one

Ben: mmmm...no. Not in the right headspace. But we can fly properly later if ya like

Mal (understandingly): sounds perfect. But we should really do something to take your mind off your father. So how about we practice for the showcase?

Ben: fairy godmother said our song choice wasn’t viable for a school environment. And then paired you up with Evie.

Mal: well. How about we prevtice your one. You know. The one you’re doing with Lonnie

Ben (smiling): that sounds good

(Mal sets up the automatic piano. This is when “changes” happens. After the song Ben notices something)

Ben: hey mom! Hold up! (He pods down to the front of the palace to greet his mother). Watcha doing?

Belle: I’m off to the library

Ben: I thought we had one inside.

Belle: yes. Yea we do. But it’s not been updated apart from legal documents for 22 years. Therefore. I thought I’d take on the duty of updating it. Like it should be

Ben (cracking a wide grin): pick out some for me. You know what ones I like

Belle: will do

Ben: what brought all this on though. I’ve never seen you this happy. I like it.

Belle: getting a divorce can do wonders for a woman’s confidence. See you later tonight.

(She starts to head off)

Ben: hey mom!

Belle: yes?

Ben: Phillipe II’s been looking a little lonely

Belle (realising what Ben means): of course. Now I really must be going. Bye bye

Ben: byeee

(This is when “float” happens. A few weeks later Gil’s at the ROAR arena watching Lonnie lead the team in training)

Carlos: you know, you’re not gonna get anywhere with her just by staring

Gil: I-I am not-staring, puh hoohaa, ehhhh, is it that obvious?

Carlos: only from space

Gil: ah. (Whimpering) help meee. Please?

Carlos: you know what she likes. ROAR. Gossip. And weapons in general. You’ll be fine.

Gil: ok. Ok. I can do this. I’ll be fine

(After practice he approaches her as she’s packing to leave)

Gil: teach me

Lonnie (slightly surprised): hm?

Gil: I know how to fight like a pirate. And I know how to wrestle a grown man until his tendons snap beneath my fingers. But I don’t know ROAR. So I was wandering. Could you teach me?

Lonnie: of course. Only if you agree to do exactly what I say when I say it without argument

Gil: no arguments from me. So when do we start?

Lonnie: hmmmmm. For safety’s sake, considering this this your first time at ROAR, how about now?

Gil: works for me.

Lonnie: alrighty then. Grab that spare sword and we’ll get started

Gil: as you wish captain

(He takes the spare sword and they start practicing. This is when “strangers like me” happens. Well after the song Gil’s whooping down the corridor past Jay and Carlos)

Jay: somebody’s happy

Carlos: yeah I might have given him the final push he needed to ask Lonnie out

Jay: impressive. I’m proud of you. Ya big softie

Carlos: you would’ve done the same. Except you’d have added more beer

Jay: this is true. But still. You did a good thing dear.

Carlos: yeah. At least they get to move on together next year

Jay: ahhhh...wait, what? Whadya mean next year?

Carlos: oh nothing, you’re graduating this year, next year I’ll have a new roommate, and long distance hardly ever works

Jay (turning Carlos around to face him): C, look at me, long distance is gonna work. You know me. I’m lazy as sin.

Carlos: yeah, that’s probably true. But still. It’s gonna be difficult. Like really, really, really, difficult

Jay: what makes you say that?

Carlos: I mean look at you, you’re a freaking genie for gods sake. More to the point, you’re a free genie. People are gonna eat you up my friend.

Jay: ohhhh. You’re jealous.

Carlos: I’m not jealous. I’m insecure. There’s a difference

Jay: riiiight. I know how to deal with jealousy. But not insecurity

Carlos: I don’t expect you to. It’s my problem. And I’m the one who’s gotta deal with it. Not you. And oh Christ there’s the kingdom to consider

Jay: oho kay. I think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill right now

Carlos: it’s fine. I don’t expect you to get it. But please just let me vent.

Jay: sure. Vent away

(This is when “the last of the real ones” happens. That night in the family library, Ben finds Belle at the main table. She’s crying quietly)

Ben: hey, Mal and I are going out for dinner. I just wanted to let you know. Are you alright?

Belle: yeah. Just. I dunno. Feeling sorry for myself I suppose. I uh, I found something that brought back memories

Ben: good or bad memories?

Belle: oh good, very good, that’s what made me sad

Ben (reading the book title): “William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet: First Edition Illustrated”. Ohhhh. Oh you taught him to read with that didn’t you?

Belle: retaught him. He was cursed for almost ten years by then. He’d forgotten. (She abruptly stands up, sending the chair flying). Oh god why am I crying about him. It’s stupid. I’m divorcing him. He’s out of my life

Ben: I hate to play the devils advocate but he isn’t. Because of me you won’t be rid of him until his funeral procession. Which can’t come soon enough in my opinion.

Belle: it’s a stupid memory

Ben: no it’s not, cause it meant something to you.

Belle: I taught you too well

Ben: well it was either you teach me manners or Lumiere teach me flirting. Frankly we’re lucky the only thing I can play on piano is the assorted hits of David Bowie

Belle: you do play a good Starman. What are you doing?

Ben (pulling out his phone): calling Mal. Hey. Yeah it’s me. Mom’s got something going on. But you, Doug and Evie can go on without me. Oooh yes! Jane loves that restaurant. She’d love to go. See you tomorrow morning. Love you. Bye. And now you’re stuck with me for the night Maman

Belle: you don’t have to do this. You’re young. You should be having fun. Not stuck here with your elderly mother

Ben: I’ve got whiskey

Belle: so Downton Abbey, yes?

(Five hours and six bottles later they’re cry-laughing at the season one finale when Ben looks at his phone)

Ben: oh Christ. Is that the time. I should really be getting to bed

Belle: goodnight dear. I’ll keep watching

(Ben heads for the door. Then stops and turns back around to face her. This is when “strange sight reprise” happens. After the song, he leaves and the scene melts away back to the present. Gil and Lonnie are still on the couch looking very confused)

Lonnie: that was, uh, a weird flashback

Gil: I wasn’t there for half of that stuff

(They see something next to the mantelpiece)

Gilonnie: Camelot incense

Lonnie: Mal must have lit them

Gil: serves Evie right for buying in bulk.

Uma: what the fuck are you two on about

Gil: oh. Hey Uma. Didn’t see you there. We were, um, we were remembering what I was like when I first got here.

Uma: like I care. I don’t wanna hear about your perfect little life.

Lonnie: that’s my cue to leave. Or I’ll put your head through a wall.

Uma: ohhhh you could try. You wouldn’t be successful. But you could try

Lonnie: I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me Gil. As you you, you tricorn wearing whiny ass little loser. If you upset him. You answer to me. Capisce?

Uma: I don’t eat anything the bitch cooks. I’d rather die

Lonnie: keep acting the way your acting, that could very well happen

(Lonnie leaves. Gil looks disapprovingly at Uma)

Gil: she’s right you know

Uma: what?

Gil: eventually, everyone will stop trying to understand you. And they will leave you. Again. And you’ll be alone. Again. Is that really what you want?

Uma: I don’t need friends to know I’m right

Gil: BUT YOU’RE NOT! NEITHER OF YOU ARE RIGHT! She did one shitty thing to you ten years ago and what did you do? You let it consume you. You sent Harry after Carlos, the one she sees as her son, then last year you kidnapped and hypnotised the love of her life. And now. When both she and Ben are trying to give you leeway you keep pushing back. Because you are so fucking terrified of showing some much needed weakness that you’d rather push away anyone who gives somewhat of a damn about you wether it’s me or Harry or Ben or Morg

Uma: SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ME! NONE OF YOU DO! YOU NEVER DID! AND YOU NEVER WILL!

Gil: yeah, cause you won’t let us. And that’s where you fail Uma. You never let anyone in

(Gil leaves the room passing Doug and Celia on the way)

Doug: Ben would like everyone back in the kitchen please. Hades and Mal have something they want to say

Uma: later.

Doug: no, now. Trust me. You’ll wanna here this

Uma: you’re not the boss of me. No matter how good looking you are

Doug: this is my house. Captain Facillier.

Celia: give us a minute.

Doug: you get ten.

(They watch Doug leave. Celia grabs Uma’s arm and practically throws her onto the couch)

Uma: what the hell was that for?

Celia: shut up. Just sit back and pay attention.

Uma: what are you doing?

Celia: relighting the Camelot incense.

Uma: why?

Celia: because dad cares. Just remember. These operate on Merlin’s magic. Which is rather unreliable. So we’ll probably see more then we need to

Uma: what?

Celia: just shut up and let me work. Alright?

(Once she lights the incense then she mutters a quick spell in french and once again the scene gives way to a flashback. This time to Facillier’s arcade on the island. The news is on the tv. Ben looks apologetic. He’s talking about a statue. Facillier’s watching and he looks broken)

Uma: why are we here?

Celia: this is six months ago. Aka; six months after you disappeared and Ben’s just declared you legally dead, highly reluctantly might I add. See Uma, you were missed. Even if you don’t think so. It practically broke our dad. Ah crap.

Uma: what?

Celia: I forgot.

Uma: forgot. WHAT?

Celia: ah, heh heh. Yuh see errrr

Ursula: 🎶OH ANTOINE!!!!🎶

Uma: no.

Celia: I am so sorry

(The door is blasted open and in slithers Ursula in all her slithery cephalopodic “glory”)

Ursula (slurring her words a little): I came as soon as I heard.

Facillier: what? To rub it in?

Ursula: why ever would I do that? I’ve lost my only daughter and only wish to seek >hic< comfort in the arms of the only man I’ve ever >belch< loved

Facillier: my god, you’re drunk aren’t you?

Ursula (giggling and belching simultaneously): muhbe a lil bit?

Facillier: oh Christ I should’ve known. You’re only here to gloat about how I can never see Uma again. Only you can’t be blamed for it

Ursula: oh don’t beat yourself up honey. Who knows. One day she may yet reappear. After (brap) all, every soul lost to the depths makes its way to me. It’s the law of the ocean. I’m like that fiery gent you sleaze around with. Only I’m more important

Facillier: get out

Ursula (stammering): what?

Facillier: get out! Go on! GET OUT! GET YOUR DRUNKEN BLUBBERY ASS OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!!!!

Ursula (turning on the, very, very, false, waterworks): but, but, but-

Facillier (having flat out lost his patience by now): BUT NOTHING! I don’t want you here. Not near me. Not near Celia. Get out. Sober your ass up. Or never contact me again

Ursula (actually starting to get nervous now): but this is how we work. I show up here drunk, you join me, then we end up in bed and

Facillier: not this time. If you want to talk to me, then stop downing the sixteen bottles of fermented grog you filch at the pier. And don’t, don’t do that

Ursula: don’t do what?

Facillier: oh god do I have to spell it out for you?

(This is when “call me when you’re sober” happens. After the song he wafts Ursula away in a plume of magenta smoke)

Facillier: you can come in now

Anastasia (sheepish smile): I uh, I saw Ursula headed for you and I thought you might need someone in your corner. How’re you doing?

Facillier: about as good as can be expected. But at least punches weren’t thrown

Anastasia: yeah. It’s just a shame there’s nothing they can do

Facillier: well they already went over the legal requirements and I know enough about the king to know he didn’t make the call off lightly. But it’s still disheartening. She might still be out there. Alone. With no one to help OH SHIT

Anastasia: what is it. What’s wrong?

Facillier (putting his jacket on as he heads for the door): Celia! I’ve got to go somewhere. I might be gone for so time. Ana’s going to stay here to look after you. Be good, behave and please try not to fleece anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

Flashback!Celia (from upstairs): will do. See ya later. Bye

Anastasia: what’s. Wrong?

Facillier: the boy. Uma wasn’t alone. He was with her

Anastasia: fuck. Do you think hades knows?

Facillier: I don’t know. If he does. He’s probably drinking himself into a stupor. Either way. He needs someone

Anastasia: then fly you fool

Facillier: I really shouldn’t have found that disc for you

Anastasia: oh you wouldn’t changed it for the world

Facillier: yeah you’re right

(He poofs away in a cloud of fuchsia smoke. In the shadows Celia turns to Uma who has a pained look on her face)

Celia: this was all I know. Well. What he told me. What happens next will be a complete surprise to both of us. So. Do you continue?

Uma: yes. Fine. I need to know. Just get on with it

(Celia nods her head and the scene melts away into smoke the reappears in a brightly lit, well cared for but still run down bar. The signage says “Kronk’s Tavern”. Facillier approaches Hades (Eva Green) who’s sitting on a barstool and drowning her sorrows in tequila and gin. End of this part of the Facillier flashback)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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just-jordie-things · 5 years

Text

Plus One - Peter Parker (part three)

word count: 5067 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) and Peter are really good at selling their relationship. Maybe too good... Alina can tell that there’s something up with the way (y/n) and Peter interact song: Drive - Halsey

PART THREE: Brunches and Duck Ponds + part one + part two

[ all we do is drive // all we do is think about the feelings that we hide // all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign ]

The following morning (y/n) woke up to a quiet rapid knocking on the door, and despite her attempts to ignore it until it went away, it didn’t go away.

Finally, she opened her eyes, and was about to move to get out of bed, when she realized she wasn’t sleeping on her pillow. Instead, her face was pressed between Peter’s shoulder blades, and she must’ve wrapped her arm around his middle. Her face suddenly got hot as she shuffled backwards as hastily as she could, and rushed on her tiptoes to the door.

She peeked through it just a little bit, not surprised to see Alina on the other side.

For a girl that definitely got wasted last night, she seemed awfully chipper this morning.

“(y/n)!” She squealed, bursting through the door and wrapping her little sister in a tight hug. (y/n) silently cursed hearing Peter moving around in bed, knowing that Alina’s outburst had woken him up.

“Al- Ali, you’re gonna wake up Peter,” (y/n) warned softly, but still smiled at Alina. “We got in really late-”

“Ohmygod that’s your boyfriend?” Alina peeked over to where Peter was surprisingly still sound asleep in bed. “Shit, (y/n), he’s hot”

(y/n) giggled as she blushed and nodded enthusiastically.

“I know” She replied, and Alina laughed with her.

“You have to tell me everything as soon as you guys come downstairs, I want to talk to both of you, capisce?” (y/n) nodded in agreement. Alina’s eyes wandered curiously back over to Peter, and (y/n) smacked her arm.

“Back off, you’re getting married tomorrow”

“I know!” Alina squealed, slapping a hand over her mouth in a delayed reaction. ‘Sorry’ She mouthed.

“How about we get ready and we’ll meet you downstairs before we head out for brunch?” (y/n) suggested. “I don’t need you waking him up and making him cranky”

“Fine, fine,” Alina rolled her eyes. “Sorry for missing you and wanting to catch up with my little sister”

“See you later, Alina” (y/n) spoke sarcastically, and closed the door behind her sister as she left.

Just as she was gathering her clothes from her suitcase, Peter propped his head up on the mattress, and glanced down at her questioningly.

“I’m sorry,” (y/n) muttered. “Did we wake you up?”

“Yes, but it was worth it,” Peter said with a teasing tone, and (y/n) could tell he’d heard the whole conversation. “Flattered to know you think I’m hot”

She rolled her eyes at him, and didn’t say anything about it. She knew it would go straight to his ego.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” She changed the subject. “Brunch is in two hours, and it’s a really big deal to my family-”

“Understood,” Peter nodded before she could start to freak out. “I’m about to the politest, brunchiest person you’ve ever seen”

(y/n) giggled and shook her head at him before taking her clothes into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting up the shower.

Peter searched through his luggage for the outfit he had specifically packed for today, unable to wipe the giddy smile off of his face.

He’d woken up last night when (y/n) had rolled over and laid against him. He’d thought that she’d just miscalculated the amount of space in the bed and had run into him, but instead of backing off, she’d nuzzled her face into his back and curled her arm around his torso, pressing closer to him.

Peter was starting to think that this fake dating thing might just bring them closer together.

He could hear her humming a tune in the bathroom.

She opened the door to let out the steam when she’d finished her shower and put on her outfit for the day, which also allowed Peter to enjoy the view while she did her hair and makeup.

“It’s going to be my Mom, Dad, Alina, and Jonathan today,” (y/n) filled him in while applying a light colored eyeshadow. “I’m actually excited for you to meet Jon, he’s amazing, he fits right in with the family. However, Alina is definitely gonna give you the third degree so I hope you’re up for being as romantic as you possibly can,” She stopped her actions to glance at Peter in the reflection of the mirror. “I mean really dial it up”

“You want to sit on my lap while we’re there?” Peter said, and (y/n) spun around, just in time to see him burst into laughter. “Kidding. Obviously”

She sighed before turning back to the mirror to put her makeup on.

“It’s a really nice restaurant, you’ll like it, and sometimes my family is overbearing but-”

“Deep breaths,” Peter said before she could ramble anymore. “It’s gonna be fine, don’t worry”

“Worrying is what I do best” She mumbled.

Peter rolled his eyes at the comment, knowing that it wasn’t true. (y/n) did best at engineering, problem solving, tinkering, and currently he was learning she did best at applying makeup.

“Your stress is just a side effect of being good at everything” Peter mused.

She glanced at his reflection again, watching him while he was messing with the buttons of his short sleeved button up. The comment made her blush, and she was glad he couldn’t see her looking at him. He looked really good, in khakis and a dark blue button up with a faint print over it.

“Thanks” She mumbled softly, and quickly went back to putting her makeup on when he caught her eyes.

Peter just smiled to himself and messed around on his phone while waiting for her to finish up.

“Okay, I’m finished” She finally turned around, and smoothed out the wrinkles in the pants of her jumpsuit.

Peter grinned up at her, admiring how pretty she looked. Of course, she always looked pretty, in the jeans and the casual blouses she’d wear at the compound. But she was extra cute with the extra effort. She parted her hair and let it fall naturally with loose curls, and even just the small amount of eyeliner and mascara made her eyes pop even more than they did already.

“Look at you” Peter praised, the stupid grin still on his face. (y/n) smiled back bashfully, her cheeks a rosy color. He did a chef’s kiss and made her giggle, walking over to smack his arm gently.

“Come on idiot, lets go” She said playfully, and grabbed his hand to pull her with him down the stairs. ___

(y/n) was glad that her parents were fine with her and Peter having a glass of wine with brunch even though they were nineteen, because she had a feeling they’d need it.

They were all sat around a table, with glasses of wine, small bread baskets being passed around, and smiles on their faces as they recalled the most embarrassing stories they could of one another. The restaurant that Alina and Jonathan had chosen was nothing short of elegant.

As soon as they’d gotten to the table, (y/n) had made it a point to pull her seat closer to Peter’s. They had their hands intertwined on the table, and were constantly throwing each other loving glances. They were more than selling it.

“Alright (y/n), you’ve got to tell us the most embarrassing story about Peter,” Alina demanded, an eager look on her face as she stared at them from over her glass. “There’s got to be something juicy”

(y/n) looked to Peter with a suggestive smile, and he already knew the story she was going to tell.

“No no no don’t-”

“I dared Peter to flick Sc- Ant-Man-” She caught herself quickly before she could give away Scott’s identity. “- off from where he was perched on a work table. He had shrunk down to help me out with a gadget, and was sitting right there on the edge of the table-”

“I hate how much you love this story” Peter teased, taking a smug sip of his wine.

“- and Peter did it!”

“You’ve got him that whipped already, babe?” Alina asked, a smirk tugging on her lips as her eyes flickered between her sister and her boyfriend.

Peter’s brows furrowed, and he let go of (y/n’s) hand, opting to set it on the back of her chair.

“I wouldn’t say I’m whipped” He said, giving (y/n) a slight pout. She quirked a brow at him and patted his cheek lovingly.

“Of course not,” She said with a mock pout, and Peter rolled his eyes. “Now hush and let me finish,” (y/n) turned back to Alina. “Anyways, Ant-Man gets pissed right? Because Peter just flicked him like a paper football across the room. And he decides that he’s going to get revenge on Peter. He comes up with this grand scheme about using these- let’s just call them growth disks- on a doll’s dress”

“Oh no,” Alina was already giggling, seeing where the story was going. “Tell me he didn’t-”

“Peter’s asleep on the couch, just begging to be pranked by somebody-” (y/n) had to stop for a moment to stifle her giggles, particularly enjoying Peter’s red cheeks in this moment. “And Scott puts the dress on him- we had a whole photoshoot that day, I did his makeup. I have pictures-”

“Sweetheart we don’t have to show them the pictures-” Peter started, but (y/n) had already pulled out her phone to display the adorable pictures of Peter sleeping on the sofa in the common room.

Everyone was giggling at the bright pink lipstick on his lips and the messy thick eyeliner wings, which complimented the pink and yellow frill dress he wore.

“I just want everyone to know that you’re the prettiest princess, Peter” (y/n) said innocently.

“Maybe I should’ve let you be the maid of honor,” Alina joked. “So, Peter, you date a lot of Avengers?”

The poor boy choked, and (y/n) reached her hand up to where he had casually been resting his on her shoulder, squeezing his fingers gently, reassuringly.

“Yeah, no,” He answered awkwardly. “Actually I didn’t really date at all. It’s kind of hard, since I’m always so busy with work and all but…” He glanced over to (y/n), who was listening intently, before going back to her sister. “I met (y/n) and just… had to make the time”

(y/n) smiled at his sweet words. He was good at being romantic on the spot. It wasn’t too far from the truth, after getting to know one another they’d both always made the time to hang out outside of work.

“That’s sweet,” Alina replied, and Peter let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding in. “I have to say, I’m surprised (y/n) brought you”

(y/n) shot Alina a look, who just shrugged her shoulders innocently before taking a sip of her wine.

“She doesn’t really open up about boyfriends, I have to practically pry it out of her-”

“Alina” (y/n) hissed, hoping to play it off as playful sister teasing, but Alina kept talking anyways.

“But she’s told me lots about you”

“She has?” Peter asked out of genuine surprise, turning to (y/n) with a raised brow.

“This is the Peter that was an intern with you a few years ago, right?” Alina checked, and (y/n) nervously nodded her head, praying to Odin that her sister wouldn’t catch on that this wasn’t the guy she’d been dating at Christmas. “Yeah,” Alina grinned at Peter. “She called me that first day-”

“I was excited to have somebody my age be living at the compound,” (y/n) cut in, turning to Peter and smiling bashfully, and then giving her sister a secret death glare. “Everyone else there is either a billionaire or a God”

Her comment got a laugh from the table, and the conversation moved on to Jonathan complaining about his side of the family.

When their food came, (y/n) realized that Peter was more of a genius and an actor than she’d originally played him for.

He shared his food with her, and she shared some of hers as well. And when she had sauce on her lip, he’d adorably picked up his napkin and wiped it off. She swore that she was maybe too convincing staring into his eyes the way she did in that moment, but a little extra flutter of the heart couldn’t hurt, could it?

Peter fit right in with her family, and got along well with Jonathan who was soon to be her family, and it couldn’t have made it happier. Maybe he wasn’t really her boyfriend, but knowing that she had everyone’s approval of him still made her happy.

“What?” Peter murmured to her while (y/d/n) had the rest of the table occupied with a story about Alina’s first boyfriend (spoiler alert, he was a loser).

“Hm?” (y/n) hummed back, unsure of what he meant.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckled. She’d been staring at him so intensely he could feel it when he wasn’t looking.

“You’re my boyfriend, I’m not allowed to look at you just cause I love you?” (y/n) said, speaking at a regular volume now so their conversation wasn’t so private.

No one commented on it, but it was clear she’d been heard. Peter just played along and chuckled, kissing her temple nonchalantly before eating some of his food.

(y/n) held Peter’s hand and leaned into him as they left the restaurant, giggling while he teased her about messing up her hair if she kept resting her head on him the way she was.

Alina got her mother’s attention, and nodded towards the pair as they laughed quietly and shared whispers that no one else could hear.

“They’re more in love than they realize,” Alina said quietly, trying not to get her sister’s attention. “Don’t you see it?”

(y/m/n) nodded, smiling between both of her daughters.

“I might have to give away my other daughter soon as well”

Alina chuckled softly, watching as Peter let go of (y/n’s) hand to wrap his arm around the small of her back, and pull her closer to him. In turn, she kissed his cheek and leaned her head against his shoulder.

The older sister smiled to herself, and didn’t say anything else about it the whole way home. ___

“They love you!” (y/n) squealed quietly when her and Peter were back in the safety of their bedroom. “And they totally believe we’re an item too! This is going even better than I thought!”

“What, you thought it wouldn’t go well?” Peter joked.

“Well, I thought you’d either blow our cover, or I’d get too nervous and blow it, but we’re doing great!” She high fived him, giggling with excitement. “I’m going to change into normal clothes, and then I’m taking you on a special tour” (y/n) told him mischievously, getting a pair of jeans and a tee shirt from her luggage.

“Special tour?” Peter grinned, and waited on the bed while (y/n) changed in the bathroom.

“I have a list of all the important places of my childhood that I need to take you to” She called through the door.

Peter chuckled and shook her head at her antics, but was happy nonetheless to let her drag him all over the Bronx.

“(y/n)! Peter!” Alina called from downstairs, practically screaming up the staircase.

(y/n) dashed out of the bathroom, jeans on and halfway through tugging her shirt down. Peter tried to hide his blush, knowing it was stupid to blush over her torso being exposed for half a second. He’d seen (y/n) in a swimsuit, handfuls of times.

But it felt different now.

“Yeah?” (y/n) yelled back when she opened the bedroom door.

“Jon and I are gonna chill out for a bit and watch a movie, wanna make it a double Netflix and Chill date?”

“First of all, gross!”

(y/n) turned to Peter, visibly weighing their options.

“We can stay for a movie and do the tour after,” Peter suggested. “I don’t mind”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course, we’re here for you to be with your family,” Peter said, and she thanked him as they headed downstairs. “And this means we get to cuddle now, right?” He added in a quieter voice, making (y/n) giggle nervously.

There were two sofas in front of the tv set, and Alina and Jonathan already occupied one. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders while they searched for a movie on Netflix.

(y/n) and Peter sat on the other couch, and they were lucky that Alina and Jon were preoccupied, because they were awkward as hell about what to do now. Calmly, (y/n) sat sideways on the cushion, her back against the armrest as she pulled her legs up, resting them in Peter’s lap.

‘Is this okay?’ She mouthed, and he nodded, wrapping his arm around her back to pull her a little more towards him, thus giving her easy access to lay her head on his shoulder. He didn’t know what to do with his free hand, and ended up stiffly placing it on her knee.

“How about a horror flick?” Jonathan suggested, earning a chorus of shrugs and sures. He picked one and the opening title sequence began.

“Do you guys get to be like this at the compound?” Alina asked, gesturing to (y/n) and Peter’s position.

“Not usually,” (y/n) said, and relaxed against Peter’s body, trying to calm her racing heart. “In the common room anyways, unless it’s late, there’s always someone around”

“What do the others think of you guys dating?”

“They mostly don’t mind,” Peter shrugged. “We’re about responsible about it as we can be”

“Except for Thor,” (y/n) chimed in, giggling into Peter’s shoulder. He looked down at her, smiling softly, but was a bit confused by the comment. “He likes to meddle in my love life just as much as you do Ali”

Alina smirked and turned to watch the movie.

“I had a feeling I’d get along with that guy,” She said. “The muscles don’t hurt either” She added, making Jon nudge her playfully.

“Does he really?” Peter murmured into her ear, sending a shiver down (y/n’s) spine that didn’t go unnoticed. Her eyes met his for a moment before darting to the screen.

“Just watch the movie” She hummed.

He figured he’d ask her about it later, just cause he was curious as to what Thor would possibly do to ‘meddle in her lovelife’. It was common knowledge at the compound that Thor loved juicy gossip, Peter just hadn’t known (y/n) had the gossip that would feed his appetite.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering if she’d told the God of Thunder things about Seth, or if there had been other guys. The idea of it rubbed him the wrong way, so much so he grimaced. (y/n) hadn’t told him about those sorts of things, nothing juicy other than the few kisses that she’d shared with Seth when they’d been together for that short period of time.

And now Peter’s mind was spiralling down the rabbit hole of what ifs. What if it had been more than that? More than kissing? What if there had been other guys? (y/n) was the full package of brains and beauty, not to mention she worked with the Avengers, and Peter wasn’t dumb, he knew any guy would be lucky to have her. He just didn’t want them to have her… that way.

(y/n) could feel Peter go stiff, and her brows drew together as she looked at him in concern. His jaw was set and eyes trained on the tv, but she could tell he wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to it.

She reached her hand up to his face, fingers skimming his cheek softly and making him look down at her.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, almost under her breath to avoid getting her sister’s attention.

Peter had to smile at how worried she looked, brows furrowed and eyes concerned as they flickered over his face.

“Nothing,” He brushed it off, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her fingertips, the action making her heart skip a beat and heat rise to her cheeks.

It was probably the sweetest thing he’d ever done, scratch that, the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done.

“Just watch the movie” He copied her words back to her, making her roll her eyes affectionately. Peter tugged her in closer, cradling the back of her head against his shoulder and embracing her comfortably.

If Peter kept holding her like this she would fall asleep in his arms again.

They stayed like this throughout the whole movie, and cuddling with one another had been nothing short of bliss. Peter was so warm, and (y/n) just wanted to wrap herself around his body and stay there forever. And in turn, Peter loved the way she’d cling against him, somehow always shuffling a little closer to him. He knew that jumpscares didn’t bother her one bit, but when something rather gory would happen in the film, her hand would reach for his chest, or his arm or his hand. Partially just for show.

And halfway into the movie, she’d made the bold move of taking his awkward hand from her knee, and sliding it up to rest on her thigh. Peter glanced down at her when she’d done so, but she hadn’t even flickered her eyes towards his, still totally focused on watching the movie. So he tightened his grip just a little bit, and continued watching with her.

By the end of the movie, Alina and Jonathan had put whatever show they’d been three seasons deep into, and (y/n) was too drowsy and cozied up with Peter to want to move.

She shifted in his arms, nose pressing into his collarbone and taking in a deep breath.

“You smell really good” She hummed, and the chuckle Peter let out she could feel against her cheek.

“Thanks babe” He’d responded, and ran his fingers through her hair.

Babe. (y/n) repeated in her head, and sighed as Peter’s fingers massaged her scalp. If there was a way to be on sensory overload, but full of warmth and softness, that’s where she’d say she was right now.

Peter kissed her forehead softly, his lips lingered for a moment, and (y/n’s) eyes fluttered shut, mentally crossing her fingers that he’d never pull away.

It wasn’t until halfway through Alina and Jonathan’s episode that Peter spoke up.

“Are you still wanting to give me that tour?” Peter asked her quietly, and realized that she’d shut her eyes while resting against him.

“Hm? Oh,”She yawned and nodded her head. “Yeah, we should probably get going soon so that we’re back in time for dinner”

She seemed a little dazed as she crawled out of Peter’s lap and excused herself to go get her things. Normally Peter would’ve followed right after her, but she’d only be a minute.

“You two are too cute,” Alina told him once her sister was out of earshot. “You’ve got a real chemistry between you”

Peter’s face was pink at the commentary, but he managed a nod of his head.

“Y-yeah I guess we’ve… always been like that” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s like you’re soulmates” Jon said, and Alina nodded in agreement.

“Right?”

“And I’ve never seen (y/n/n) this happy since she got that letter from Tony Stark saying she’d gotten accepted into the program” Jonathan said, and again, Alina nodded in agreement.

Before Peter could think of what to say, (y/n) came back down the stairs, wearing a jacket and a purse, and holding a pair of shoes in her hands. She smiled at Peter and squeezed his hand before sitting on the couch to put her shoes on.

“Where are you off to?” Alina asked.

“I’m taking him to all the best places here,” (y/n) said proudly. “I have a list”

“Please don’t tell me you’re bringing him to the stupid pond-”

“Sh!” (y/n) cut off her sister’s whine. “No spoilers”

Alina rolled her eyes, but pretended to zip her lips.

“Ready?” (y/n) asked Peter, who nodded and took her hand. “I can take your car, right?” (y/n) asked Alina, already rushing over to the stand by the front door where everyone’s keys were kept.

“Actually-”

“Thanks Ali!” (y/n) said, snatching the keys and dragging Peter out of the house before her sister could protest. ___

Peter liked The Bronx more than he’d thought he would, but that might’ve been due to (y/n) being there. She made mundane everyday things way more fun.

She’d taken him to a cheap coffee shop that she claimed she went to every day before school in highschool, and to the public gardens to see the Hudson River. Now they were driving to the third location, that (y/n) would not disclose.

“Hey, so,” (y/n) turned down the radio to talk to Peter easier. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Fine,” Peter shrugged. “Why?”

“Just curious, I didn’t know if you’d be like… worried or anything”

“Should I be worried?” He asked teasingly, looking over at her with raised brows. “As long as you don’t catch the bouquet and make me fake marry you too, I think I’ve got nothing to worry about”

She laughed softly at his teasing, and shook her head.

“I was just checking, that’s all” She shrugged.

“I’ve never been to a wedding before” Peter told her, and she gasped quietly.

“Really?”

“Nope,” He shook his head. “I guess I would’ve gone to Pepper and Tony’s, but they had a private wedding in the Bahamas, so… yeah, I’ve never been to a wedding”

“Well then I’m glad to be the one to bring you to your first” She said sweetly.

Finally, she pulled over to the side of the road. Peter looked around to see where they’d stopped, but there wasn’t really anything around.

“Uh, (y/n/n)?” He spoke, confused as she parked the car and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Where are we?”

“The best place in the world” She told him, her eyes lighting up as she reached into the backseat and held up a bag with a full loaf of bread.

Peter went along with it, and followed her out of the car and through a grassy field.

The sun was starting to set, and they didn’t have much time left before they had to go back for dinner, but (y/n) was set on showing Peter her favorite place in The Bronx.

They came across a decent sized pond, where ducks were swimming and waddling around. (y/n) opened her bag, and as she began to rip up a piece of bread, they seemed to flock to her. It was like they remembered her, quacking eagerly and their little tails fluttering about.

Peter watched contentedly while (y/n) grinned and talked to the ducks, making sure they were sharing with one another, and every duck that wanted bread got a piece.

“Come here!” (y/n) called to Peter, but he shook his head stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“That’s alright-” He started to tell her that this was her thing, but she just walked over to him stepping over birds to get to him.

“Here,” She thrust a few slices of bread into his hands, and soon enough the group of docks were waddling over to surround the both of them, quacking impatiently for more scraps. “Just rip it up into a few pieces so it’s easy for them to eat” (y/n) told Peter, and smiling as he got just as excited as she did when the first duck at a piece right out of his hand.

They both continued to feed the ducks, even getting to pet a few that trusted them enough.

“I used to come here all the time, as soon as I got my license I found this place and just… I wanted to stay here forever” (y/n) told Peter while a pretty brown duck was nibbling at her last piece of bread in her hand.

“Your sister doesn’t like this place?” Peter asked, recalling her bored comment from back at the house.

“She wouldn’t know, she’s never been,” (y/n) said dryly. “The outdoors were never her thing. Or wildlife really. But I like ducks, and I like this place,” She pet the brown duck when it had finished the bread, and it quacked before waddling off to socialize with the others. “You’re the first person to get to be here with me,” She told Peter with a shy smile on her face. “Congratulations”

“I’m honored,” Peter said, taking her hand and squeezing it. As he was about to pull away, (y/n) secured her grip and held onto his hand. “This seems like the calmest place in all of The Bronx” He mused, glancing over the water and the setting sun.

It was almost romantic, being with her here, right now.

“It is,” (y/n) hummed, following his line of sight and enjoying the view. “Being here reminds me more of home”

Peter cast her a confused look, and she corrected herself.

“Well- the compound” She clarified.

“It’s funny you consider it home,” Peter said. “Even though right now we’re fifteen minutes from the house you grew up in” (y/n) chuckled nervously and shrugged a shoulder, before pulling her hand out of his and stuffing her fists into her pockets.

“The compound feels more like a home,” She told him. “I didn’t fit in here, even though my family’s here and I love them, I do, I just… I wasn’t a city girl by any means,” Peter nodded his head, not knowing what else to say. “A part of me always dreads coming back” She added in a quieter voice.

“What about now?” Peter murmured, and she looked over at him with kind eyes and a warm smile.

“Not so much” She answered.

It was much easier being here with Peter by her side.

___

taglist: @writings-and-stuff @rofromtheashes @tomshufflepuff @steve-avengers-rogers @vibhati123 @dark-night-sky-99 @hollandhours @drakonwild @imofficiallyobsessed @snufflesashley @stiles-o-dylan24 @a-dream-of-tiny-escapes @wherdtonygo @mnk @deepfrz @genius2050 @kaylagetalife

xoxo ~ jordie

#spider-man #spider-man x reader #Peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker scenario #Peter Parker fanfiction #Peter Parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader

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hoothootmotherf-ckers · 5 years

Text

rushing in

(Warnings: angst, blood, major injury)

They’re on some boring, desolate dirt road, between towns that may have heard a friend say something maybe about a Relic. Usually, this is Seeker work - after all, there’s likely not anything in these towns to Reclaim. But Angus is working on a possibly real lead, and Taako was getting restless. Well, they all were, really - Merle started talking to the plants, and Magnus has been leaving piles of wooden animals in corners and tracking larger piles of wood shavings through the Bureau. Taako’s just the one who noticed that and started loudly complaining.

So now, here they are, scuffing their feet in the dust as they plod along through forests and fields, a warm sunset lighting their way. Or Taako is, anyway - Magnus looks positively delighted to be outdoors, and Merle is admiring the foliage. Taako doesn’t *do hiking, okay.

Neither does Merle, apparently, because he’s trailing behind. “Hey, big guy!” he shouts. “Dunno if you noticed, but your legs are as long as my entire Pan-damned body, so mind slowing it down a bit?”

Taako should’ve been paying closer attention, should’ve listened, his passive perception is too high for this, damn it. But instead, he turns back, ready to heckle Merle as he usually would. And as he takes a breath to yell, something shoves him.

Taako falls, skidding in the dirt. His indignance and outrage only lasts a moment, though, as Magnus’s frantic shout of “FUCK! Gnoll ambush!” has him scrabbling to his feet, Umbra Staff out.

They’re surrounded. Four gnolls, bloody teeth bared and crude blades drawn, stalk toward them from the hedges lining the road. One’s already hurt, limping - Taako assumes Magnus’s bloodied axe is the reason why. That push must have been Magnus, too; as a protection fighter, he tends to do that. Normally, Taako finds it annoying, but today, as he looks at the injured gnoll’s jagged and rusty shortsword, he’s okay with it.

But there’s no time left to think, as things escalate into an all-out brawl. Merle stands firm in the center, his Guardian of Faith knocking back any gnoll that gets too close, and Taako weaves in and out of the fray blasting Magic Missiles at any that pauses for even a second. But the real MVP of the fight, as always, is Magnus, barreling through the canine beasts with his battle-axe, blood spraying up in wild arcs.

It’s over in moments. Two gnolls lie dead, and the two surviving cut their losses and make a break for it, scrambling off into the underbrush. Taako sends a halfhearted Scorching Ray after them, and then sits down, yelling, “YEAH! That’s what you GET!”

He’s crouching down to loot the bodies when he hears a groan behind him. “Fucking… assholes… tryna… make me… hate… dogs,” Magnus mutters, and then he collapses to the ground, unconscious.

“Magnus? SHIT!” Taako rushes over to him, trying to see what’s wrong. He’d thought things had gone okay- one the fight started in earnest, Taako hadn’t seen the gnolls get in a single hit. But the dark, tacky blood oozing from Magnus’s side, sticking his ripped shirt to him, would say otherwise. “MERLE!”

Merle’s already there, muttering curses as his hands start to glow green and he starts pushing healing energy into the still seeping wound. Taako stands and paces. “What the fuck, when did he get hit, this is such bullshit, shit!” He kicks a rock, trying not to look at the red patches in the dust.

“Man, I don’t know!” Merle says. “I thought I saw it all, once he knocked you down and shit popped off nothing touched him!”

Taako freezes. “Once he- FUCK!” He drops down next to Magnus’s head. “Hey asshole! Wake up so I can yell at you!”

Surprisingly, Magnus does actually crack an eye open at that. “D’ I hav’ta?” he slurs. “M’side hurts.”

“Yeah, I bet it does, you absolute dipshit,” Taako says, voice shaking. “You asshole, you shoved me out of the way!”

Magnus looks confused. “Yeah? Th’t’s what… I do.”

“It shouldn’t be!” Taako shrieks. “The fuck! Protecting us should not mean getting yourself fucking STABBED!”

Merle’s glowing hands are starting to dim, and he looks tired. “Hey yeah, wait a sec,” he jokes, going for lighthearted and not quite making it. “Let’s go for solutions that involve no stabbing, ‘kay? Makes my job a lot easier.”

Magnus almost smiles. “N’t like I try to get hit,” he says. Taako doesn’t smile back.

“Sure, true, but like. My man,” he mutters. “You don’t exactly try hard to not get hit.”

Magnus shrugs, wincing as it pulls at his side. Merle, now wiping away the remaining blood, pokes him admonishingly. “Stop making my job harder!”

Merle looks up at Taako. “He’s fixed, but he’s not hiking further today. Let’s make camp.” Taako sighs.

“Hey, Magnus?” he says, unrolling a bedroll. Magnus squints at him.

“What?”

“Yeah, okay, you like, care about us. I get that, okay,” Taako says, voice cracking just a bit. “But like. Ugh, don’t make me say it,” he mutters. “We care about you too, capisce? We can take a few hits. Don’t… don’t take stupid risks, okay?”

There’s silence for a few moments, and Taako finishes setting up camp, Merle bedding down on one side of Magnus and Taako on the other. It seems like Magnus has nodded off already, the healing too much, so Taako curls up a little closer than he normally world. He’s cold, okay? That’s all this is.

But after a moment, Magnus rolls into him, bumping shoulders. “Okay,” he says, softly. Taako almost smiles, a little. It’s a start.

And with that, all three drift off into an exhausted sleep.

#taz #the adventure zone #taako #taako taaco #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #taz fic #fic #my fic #long post #this is self indulgent angst that has been done a million times but I don't care

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trustyourgutblog · 4 years

Text

The One With the Cookies

Since the holiday season is upon us, I thought it would be fitting to talk about one of the biggest themes of Christmas time – indulgence. ‘Tis the season of baked goods, chocolate, candy, and peppermint mocha lattes.

I wish I was over exaggerating in admitting that I’ve eaten at least 1 cookie every day for the last week and a half. You know you’ve found a new low in your life when you can relate to a blue, furry Sesame Street character who’s spitting cookie crumbs at everyone.

I’m literally eating a cookie while I type up this post. I am the actual Cookie Monster.

‘Tis the season of giving ourselves more permission to indulge on treats that we wouldn’t eat on a daily, or even weekly basis. I’m all for having a sweet bedtime snack, but the amount of sugar and gluten that I’ve consumed within the last week is not my normal and my body is definitely feeling it.

I wanted to give you guys some tips on how to survive the holidays while not completely losing sight of your health and fitness goals.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the holiday season and am not so aesthetically-driven that I’d deprive myself of enjoying a hot chocolate and some baked goods at a Christmas party. But, there’s a fine line between enjoying a few treats and eating so much garbage that you feel like garbage. Capisce?

Here’s some tips that help me keep my health and fitness goals in mind while still enjoying my favorite holiday treats.

Maintain your usual workout routine! Even though my diet hasn’t been as clean as it normally would be, I’m still remaining consistent with lifting, cardio, and yoga at least 5 days each week. Working out doesn’t give me permission to eat unhealthy, but it does help me to keep sight of my health and fitness goals without throwing everything out the window.

Try to eat as clean as possible outside of the celebrations. For example, we had a White Elephant pizza party at work earlier this week, so I tried to keep the rest of my meals as clean as possible. After my workout in the morning, I had protein oats and fruit for breakfast, I snacked on veggies and hummus in the late afternoon, and for dinner I had salmon and broccoli. Sure, indulged on pizza and cookies in between, but I did my best to get back on track for the rest of my meals.

Keep moderation in mind. I think a lot of people struggle with that “all or nothing thinking” where they’ll say to themselves, “Well, I already ate a piece of pizza today so I might as well forget eating healthy for the rest of the day.” Then, that thinking creeps into your brain the next day when you open the work fridge only to find that there’s leftover pizza from yesterday’s party. The next thing you know you’ve been eating pizza, cookies, or anything you can get your hands on for 2 weeks. Just because it’s the holiday season that doesn’t mean you have to eat like garbage and be sedentary until you set some New Year’s resolutions. Keep your goals in mind, while enjoying some of your favorite treats that you only have once in a while.

Stay hydrated! I am so much more likely to over-indulge when I’m hungry and thirsty. You know those times where you eat and an hour later you’re hungry again? I get that all of the time when I don’t drink enough water. Sometimes, feeling thirsty will feel like hunger at first. So, when you’re headed to your holiday party, bring a bottle of water to help keep you hydrated and decipher between actual hunger and dehydration. Also, it will keep you from indulging on the pop that will be served at the party so that you can just focus on the important stuff (yeah, I’m talking cookies again).

Save your indulgences for those special dishes that you can only get once a year! At a lot of holiday gatherings, there will be candy or chips sitting out before you eat Christmas dinner. Do you really want to fill up on a Reese’s that you could literally buy any day of the year or the chocolate crinkle cookies that you only get on Christmas? (AGAIN WITH THE COOKIES)

If there are healthy options served at the party, start filling your plate with those, then opt for whatever else you’ve been craving. For example, at said White Elephant party, I filled up half of my plate with salad and ate that first, but then enjoyed some pizza and cookies after. At least you’re providing your body with some nutrients and not just filling up on sugar and carbs. I know what you’re thinking. How many times has this bitch talked about cookies in this post? Don’t make me enter another Cookie Monster GIF. I wasn’t kidding when I said that he is me and I am him.

Digestive enzyme supplements can also be key. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring these with me to our most recent Christmas event and I really regretted it. Digestive enzymes really help me with not feeling as bloated when I eat gluten or other foods that I am more sensitive to. Typically, my strategy is to just avoid these foods, but digestive enzymes can help me to better digest foods that I’m more sensitive to when I do want to indulge. If you’re interested in where to get the digestive enzymes that I’m currently taking, comment below or send me a message!

With all of this being said, please enjoy your holiday parties! Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year. As long as you’re not giving a “screw it all” attitude and keeping your health and fitness lifestyle in mind, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying treats that you don’t typically eat.

Treat each day as a new day to make choices that positively impact your health. If you enjoyed one too many cookies at today’s party, tomorrow is a new opportunity to make a better choice! What can you do today to take better care of yourself?

Happy holidays everyone!

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survivingthejungle · 6 years

Text

never fade away; part vii

oh goodness. it’s been a hot minute since i wrote a new part to this. bear with me. i’m getting back into the swing of things.

_____________________________________

This was it.

The apocalypse.

Armageddon.

The End of Times.

You had been dragged inside of some abandoned warehouse, watched Jerome make a crazy speech about ‘what death was like’, and ‘how Gotham was going to be reborn into chaos’, and you watched him murder a man via explosives on live television. He grabbed you before running out of the building, pushing yourself in front of him to make you run fast enough to get out. (And also to act as a human shield in case the police were waiting for him outside.)

The city was pitch black. Never before had you been able to see more than 10 stars in the sky in Gotham; now you could easily see at least a million. Of course, the smog and air pollution was ever-present, but the city lights being cut off was quite effective in facilitating the visibility of the night sky.

You admired being able to see the natural brightness and decorations of the universe; you did not, however, appreciate the fact that it was caused by Jerome.

The boy who was seemingly determined to make your life a living hell.

To say that he was not intriguing as a concept would be lying. What’s not interesting about some 19-year-old killing his family, escaping from a prison for the criminally insane, going around a city he isn’t from and killing people every chance he gets, kidnapping 16-year-olds, and cutting off the whole power supply of said city?

You only wished you hadn’t been the poor, previously aforementioned 16-year-old. And why did he obsess over you, you wondered?

From the time you were forced to spend in the penthouse in Downtown Gotham, you could pick up on the fact that he liked your appearance and had even considered you pretty. You could also pick up on the fact that he very clearly enjoyed games. You were like a game to him. ‘Let’s see how many times I can kidnap (y/n), let’s see how long I can kidnap (y/n) this time, let’s see how many emotional scars I can leave (y/n) with this time around,’... the list went on.

“Be honest- how’s my face look?” he asked out of the blue, in the midst of a silent car ride towards what was begining to look like a suburb.

“Uh... not good.” “Hm.” He considered this. “Well, I did say ‘be honest’, so I’ll give ya that one, babe. Say- what game do you wanna play first?” “What?” you asked him.

“You know... dunk tank, balloon popping, ring tosses... name your pick, beautiful. This is your night as much as it is mine.” That confused you. “Why is that?”

“Well, because we’re finally together again! This is what people have been waiting for, isn’t it?” Theatrically, he made a sign with a free hand while steering. “Jerome and (y/n), the dynamic duo, back at it again! Hahahahaha!”

“Sure, that’s what all your cult freaks wanted. Sure isn’t what I wanted. And we aren’t a duo. And I don’t want to play carnival games. I want to go home. You can let me out here,” you tried, “I’ll walk?”

“Not gonna happen, hot stuff. You don’t get it, do you?”

“Don’t... Don’t get what?” you questioned.

“I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to lose you again. Death made me realize a lot of things, and I intend on keeping you with me from here on out. You’re gonna stick around with me from here on out!” The car was parked now, in the driveway of some bougie-looking mansion. “I’m not gonna let you go easy this time. No one’s gonna stab me in the neck and let you go this time. You’re staying with me now kid, we’re in this for the long haul!” You were disturbed by the serious tone of his voice now.

You had a worried look plastered on your face; a reasonable reaction. You refused to look at him, instead you chose to stare down at the floor and focus on not crying. Someone will find me, you promised yourself. They won’t let this happen to me again. Someone must be looking for me. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.

“Hey. Hey... look at me. Give me a smile, huh?” he nudged your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him. You did nothing, just tried to pull farther away from him. “Ah, you’ll get used to it after a while. It’ll be like last time, remember! You were fine eventually! We just gotta get you back in the swing of things.” “NO!” you yelled, tears beginning to fall freely now. “Don’t you understand? I was never fine! I was faking it so that you wouldn’t kill me! I was protecting myself! I never wanted to be with you! And I don’t want to be with you now! Why don’t you understand that?” You turned back from facing him and buried your face in your hands, trying to control your tears and make them stop.

Your breathing was cut short when a strong hand wrapped itself around your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as well as air flow to your lungs. Your head was pressed to the back of the seat of a car; you had no escape. In his eyes, you saw no emotions; well, nothing other than pure, unbridled rage. “I’m gonna let that go with a warning, babe, because I know you didn’t mean it. But if you act up like that again? Well... it’s not gonna be pretty. I can promise you that,” he spat, his face mere milimeters from yours. “Capisce?”

“Yes,” you managed to choke out, barely making a sound at all.

“Is this gonna happen again? Because you know, I’m not as patient as I used to be.” His grip loosened on your neck slightly. “No. It won’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me again.” You looked at him with pleading, glassy eyes, praying to God that your life would be spared for even just a day longer. He didn’t respond to this. He simply got out of the car, walked over to your side, and opened it expectantly.

“Well?” he goaded, gesturing for you to get out. As you hesitantly got out and stood up, he said, “Well, gee, (Y/N), you’re so welcome for opening the door and being so chivalrous. There’s not many gentlemen left these days.” “Thank you, Jerome,” you croaked out hoarsely. He mock bowed to you and laughed, the slits on the sides of his mouth widening grotesquely.

“Hands,” he demanded suddenly, “Put ‘em out.” You obliged carefully. He pulled a convenient rope out of his back pocket and began to tie it around your wrists. “I know you’re still not used to having me back yet. Can’t risk you tryin’ to run off, can we?” He smiled at you, like he had completely forgotten about everything else that had just happened. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” ______________

Eventually, after chaos was wreaked at Wayne Manor, you and Bruce Wayne were both thrown into the back of Jerome’s hijacked squad car. He hightailed it to a makeshift carnival in the middle of town; just about the only place with any working electric. Once there, Bruce turned to you quickly; in the short moment Jerome had stepped out of the car, he told you, “I promise I will get us out of here.” The sincerety in his voice gave you a sliver of hope for the rest of the night; you were basically both in the same boat, and you were both trying to get out of it together.

You tried to stay mostly silent throughout the whole debacle, afraid that if you let the wrong word slip out, you might end up dying like one of the people in the awful makeshift carnival games by which you were surrounded. Even when your newest friend was suddenly faced with death-by-canon, you made sure not to make a peep. If Jerome thought you two were starting to be pals, he’d surely kill Bruce in a split second. He was possesive that way, among many other ways.

But you dropped the façade in the house of mirrors. More specifically, once Bruce broke a mirror and ripped your bindings off, before nearly killing the ginger.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Brucie,” Jerome choked out, “Not in front of my girl, would ya please? Poor thing’ll be traumatized for the rest of her life if she sees me go again.” You knew in your heart he was probably joking, but he almost souned the slightest bit sincere every time you were a topic of conversation.

“She’s already traumatized by you, you clown,” Bruce spat at him. “(Y/N), run! Get out of here! I can handle myself!” he ordered you. You nodded and ran, making sure to not look back at the expression on the redhead’s face (or lack thereof) when you took off. Finding your way out, you were met face-to-face with Detective Gordon, as well as Bruce’s butler, Alfred, who you’d both assumed to be dead and gone by now.

“Christ, (Y/N), we need to get you out of here. We have no idea where Jerome could be right now,” Jim motioned for you to stand next to him in order for him to keep a closer eye on you.

“He’s in there, Detective Gordon, and so is Bruce Wayne. Jerome almost killed him but by the time I got free, Bruce had the upper hand. I don’t know what the status is right now, though-” and you didn’t have too, because Bruce was walking out of the same exit you had just been through, looking absolutely exhaused with his sad clown makeup still painted on. Jim, Alfred, and you all breathed a sigh of relief, before you saw the devil-boy come out with a vengeful look in his eye, and a loaded gun in his hand.

“BRUCE! Behind you!” you yelled, and Bruce managed to get out of the line of fire. Soon after this, Detective Gordon clocked Jerome in the face so hard that his... well, that is face flew off into a dirty puddle on the ground, and Jerome fell straight back as well.

______________

4 days later and, while you knew your life would never exactly be normal ever again, you had hoped that it wouldn’t get interrupted again for at least a while.

While walking Sadie downtown one day, you happened to pass by the GCPD at the same time that Detective Gordon was headed outside. “Oh, (Y/N)! Coincidence crossing paths with you right now; see, I’ve got a bit of bad news,” he told you.

“Oh gosh,” you responded, “What happened? Please tell me he didn’t get out again...” you pleaded to a higher power.

“No, no... but it is about him,” he informed you. “He’s been making threats, (Y/N), and he’s gone through with all of them, but he’s given us an ultimatum...” he trailed off.

“What happened, Detective?” you wondered.

“He’s been killing inmates and guards left and right. Now, there’s not much we can do, since he is already locked up, but he just offered us a deal. It’s... it’s about you.” “What about me? I’ll do it, Detective, I don’t want him to keep killing people. I’m so sick of people killing each other all of the time.” The detective sighed. “He said he’d stop, but only if you would come and see him at least once a week in Arkham. Now, before you say anything, if you agree, we’ll have plenty of armed personel with you during any visit, and a bulletproof barrier between you during every meeting. Are you okay with this?” he asked you, searching for a sign of reaction in your face.

You nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll be okay. I can do it,” you told him. “I can do it,” you said once more, this time to yourself.

_______________________________________________

hi friendos. it has been a long ass time (as i have already mentioned i know)

i have had this stuck in my drafts waiting to be finished for about a month. im the literal worst. i know. please accept this as my apology.

in other news?? the newest episode has got me FUCKED ALL THE WAY UP like damn. all my boys be lookin fine as hell on these thursday nights. god bless amen hallelujah i’m tired and i just got back from spring break so forgive me if this is bad i love u all.

u kno da drill. feedback is welcome, encouraged, and appreciated

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apparitionism · 7 years

Text

Streets 3

Hey, anon of a couple weeks ago, you asked about Streets, and whether I would continue it. First, yes! Evidence below! Second, though, I’ll say that while it may seem to outside observers that I have abandoned certain stories, believe me when I tell you that nothing is abandoned. I always finish what I start. It may take years, but as long as I manage to avoid being run over by a bus, in a literal or metaphorical sense, I will finish everything. Including this, which began its life, in part 1 and part 2, as a gift to @blackfoxreddog and continues that way, too. Previouslies: Myka and Regent!Helena were, surprisingly, on vacation. They were in San Francisco, where Pete and Claudia managed to rope them into refereeing a snag contest based on a mode-of-transportation disagreement. As part 2 ended, Myka and Pete were driving away from Myka and Helena’s hotel. Helena and Claudia were standing outside said hotel, waiting for their Uber to arrive. They are still waiting.

Streets 3

Helena determines that this non-moving while could be put to some real purpose: she extracts her Farnsworth from her too-small coat pocket. “Put this in your satchel,” she instructs Claudia.

“Okay...”

“And this,” Helena says, handing over her telephone as well.

“Do I look like your butler?”

“Not in the slightest. He was well over seventy, bald as a newborn, and had a pronounced stoop.”

Claudia twists her face. “It’s weird how that was almost a compliment. But I’m still not your butler.”

“And yet between us, there is only one satchel.”

Now Claudia sighs. “Do you want me to hold your Tesla too?”

“I am under strict instructions to keep my hands on my Tesla,” Helena says, doing that. “And I have additionally been instructed to not allow myself to be whammied.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d need to be instructed.”

“I don’t need to be instructed. Well, perhaps about the Tesla, because I would he happy to confer that into your care as well. And yet, regardless of need, I like to be.”

“Aw. Because it means she cares.”

“She does.” That that thought can even now, in an instant, warm Helena’s heart is both absurd and lovely. “And you might wish to bear that in mind, as you drag me into our misadventure, which is, I would like to note, taking its time to commence. Unlike Myka and Pete’s misadventure, which commenced some time ago.”

Claudia begins a scowl, but it transforms into a bright smile as she exclaims, “Hey, the car’s here!” A compact maroon automobile cuts toward the curb in a maneuver that Helena suspects has managed to anger an impressively large number of other motorists, particularly the one who is leaning on his or her horn to express his or her displeasure at currently being blocked by said compact maroon automobile.

“Uber driver!” shouts the motorist with the impressively earsplitting horn, leading Helena to believe that this displeasure is perhaps not an isolated occurrence.

“Your preferred mode of transport seems less than universally popular,” she says to Claudia.

“Dinosaurs. C’mon.”

A slight, young-ish man, whose dark skin is complemented by artfully disheveled hair even blacker and more glossy than Helena’s own, is piloting the compact maroon automobile. Its back seat is even more compact that it appeared it might be... “Smaller on the inside,” Claudia comments. “So, hey, you must be Ramon.”

“Yeah. And you’re Claudia.”

“Do you two know each other?” Helena asks. The young man has an accent of some sort, but she can’t place it.

“It’s how the app works,” Claudia says. “Ramon, my friend, take off. We’re heading for... hang on, I’ll text you the address in a sec. But let’s head north, okay? Go around the block, get on 3rd, and head up.” She is fiddling with her telephone, most likely because she believes that under the semi-public circumstances she should not fiddle with her Farnsworth. But Helena, when using her Farnsworth, has received compliments from several onlookers regarding her “phone,” so the distinction seems one without a significant difference. Then again Claudia can be as careless in public as Pete is, when it comes to making Warehouse business known. Helena supposes she should be glad of a small episode of discretion.

Ramon follows her instructions, angering several more drivers as he abruptly reenters the traffic. Helena resigns herself to the afternoon’s musical accompaniment being electric horns. “So you don’t seem like you’re from around here, man,” he offers to Claudia as he does so. “I mean not just this baking show lady, but you too.”

“Baking show lady?” Helena interjects.

They both ignore her. Claudia tells Ramon, “Maybe that’s because you picked me and H.G. here up outside a hotel. Just a guess.”

“No, you kinda got this weird vibe. Not so West Coast.”

“Vibes are totally cheating,” Claudia pronounces.

“In terms of unfair advantage,” Helena says, “may I remind you that you yourself are psychically connected to...” She raises her eyebrows to convey the significance.

“Yeah, to the Warehouse,” Claudia finishes for her. So much for discretion. “Except for no, not completely. Not yet. And hey, Ramon, if you could keep whatever weird stuff we say to yourself, that’d be great. Capisce?”

Ramon squints at her in the rear-view mirror. “I’m not a native speaker, man. What’d you said there at the end?”

“That would not help you,” Helena informs him. “It is Italian. Slightly bastardized.”

This elicits a “huh” from Claudia, who then says, “I thought it was just old-fashioned slang.”

Helena asks Ramon, “Of what language or languages are you a native speaker? If that is not too intrusive.”

Ramon smiles at her in the mirror. His smile is small—he does not show his teeth—but pleasant. “Thanks for asking. Most people jump to Spanish, ’cause Ramon, but it’s Tagalog. Little Spanish too, but that’s mostly Spagalog. Big Filipino family. Came here when I was seven.”

“Well done,” Helena says.

“Thanks. So when’d you?”

Helena tilts her head. “Ah. When did I come here. Like that. As an immigrant.”

“Unless you just visiting. The hotel and all.”

“No, I... live here.” How interesting, she thinks. She has no plans to live in England again—would Myka want to?—yet she has never once ideated herself as any sort of expatriate. From her original historical time period, yes, but not from her country of origin. “And I have lived her for five years. No, six. Technically I suppose I am a resident alien.”

“And H.G. brings it back to the subject. Smooth,” Claudia says. “You got the address, Ramon? Then step on it.’

Helena says, “I fail to see how we haven’t already lost. They had quite the head start.”

“Steve gave us different ping coordinates than he gave them.”

“That seems an unlevel playing field.”

“Since when did you get all righteous and rule-crazy?”

“Since I am ideally spending four more days with Myka in a hotel room, and hope to spend them with her not resenting me. And vice versa of course.”

“I bet you’d both get over it pretty fast,” says Claudia, with what she clearly believes is a leer. “Anyway, you can take it easy. The pings are supposedly almost exactly the same distance from your hotel.”

“In which I wish I were.”

“Quit complaining. No wonder Myka’s constantly annoyed with you.”

“That is not at all true. She was extremely pleased with me—and by me, I would like to add—before you and Pete so rudely inserted yourselves into our holiday.” Helena produces her own leer. It is far more lascivious than Claudia’s, she is certain.

Claudia waves a hand, apparently reluctant to acknowledge Helena’s superior ability in producing suggestive facial expressions. “In public she’s annoyed. Unavoidable eavesdropping aside, the other business is your business.”

“In public,” Helena repeats. But she considers that Claudia is not wrong: on the latter side of that private/public divide, Myka indeed takes on a veneer of what might be called annoyance... or exasperation... or irritation... “Do I provoke her so very terribly, do you think?” she asks Claudia.

Claudia shakes her head. “I’m not denying that you can be a pain. But my theory is she plays it up to keep her eyes from actually going all googly when she looks at you. Now your eyes, on the other hand... is there such a thing as a brown neon sign? Because those baby browns of yours do nothing but neon-sign ‘smitten,’ then ‘kitten,’ over and over and over.”

“What could that possibly mean,” Helena says. Because she wants to hear the answer. Wants to hear it said aloud.

“You already know, but I’ll say it anyway: either it’s that you can’t help yourself, or you just don’t care who sees how crazy you are about her.”

Now Helena is the one to make a slight noise of speculation. “I don’t suppose I do care,” she says.

“It’s sweet. Mostly. Except when you’re acting way too sensitive about itty-bitty vacation interruptions—and did you see how smooth I just brought us back to the subject? So did you ever get abducted by aliens, H.G.?”

“I feel as if I’m being abducted by an alien right now. Or possibly two—Ramon, have you achieved citizenship? If that is what you wished, of course.” Ramon nods, and Helena cheers him with another “well done.”

Claudia says, “Think, though. What would make someone believe they’d been abducted by aliens?”

“An inadequate grasp of reality. An inappropriate assessment of reality. An incorrect interpretation of reality.”

“Or it might actually be reality. Can’t completely rule that out, right, Pops?”

“They call that genre science fiction for a reason,” Helena points out.

“They call a lot of books ‘fiction,’ and all that happens in most of those is people do stuff and talk. I’ve seen people do stuff and talk, in actual reality. I’ve seen you do stuff and talk. I’ve done stuff and talked. Today.”

“Hence you find alien abduction plausible. Your logic, may I say, is somewhat suspect.”

“It’s more plausible, and way less suspect, than a lot of junk that supposedly really happens. Hence aliens, Daddy-o.”

From the front seat, Ramon contributes, “I saw a giant squid one time. It really looked like it might be a alien.”

Helena inhales with alarm. “You have heard us mention someone named Myka,” she says to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Should you meet the lady in question, please do me the very large courtesy of refraining from mentioning your squid encounter.” For if Myka is concerned about Helena being affected by an artifact—thus resulting in a negative effect on their remaining holiday—Helena would be similarly concerned about Myka experiencing some tentacle-related trauma, which would most likely result in a far more negative effect on their remaining holiday. For alas, Myka does not easily dismiss traumatic thoughts of tentacles. She in fact tends to recall such thoughts at times that most would consider inappropriate—i.e., at times that such thoughts interrupt activities.

Helena considers that she herself may have developed a mild anxiety disorder, one triggered by the mention of tentacles.

Claudia interrupts Helena’s mild anxiety with, “FYI, the lady in question stopped moving.”

“What?”

“They’ve been still for a little while now—well, still-ish—so they must’ve gotten there.” To Helena’s look of confusion, Claudia says, “I’m tracking Pete’s phone.”

“Is that not cheating?”

“How? He could do it back.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Don’t underestimate the guy who wired that whole Pete-cave,” Claudia cautions. “But Myka’s probably tracking you instead anyway.”

“If she is, it isn’t anything to do with me. It’s my telephone.”

“Well, right. But to keep track of you.”

“No, more likely for the telephone. She finds my misplacing it to be irksome. Genuinely irksome; I don’t believe that it is related to any attempt to control the behavior of her eyes.”

“You can’t tell me she isn’t playing ‘Where in the world is H.G.’ when you’re off getting all Regenty.”

Helena sees she will need to explain to Claudia how this all began. She says, “I left my telephone in Jakarta.”

Claudia blinks. Then she says, “I left my wallet in El Segundo.”

Helena hears a snicker from the front seat. Then she hears, also from there, “I gotta get it, I got-gotta get it.” Then she hears a snort-giggle from beside her. She sighs and says, “Be that as it may. She thought that I was stranded there, suffering an... item’s effects. Alternatively, that I was being held, ah, incommunicado. By sinister forces. As I understand it, she threatened one or more persons with physical damage based on their failure to reveal the terrible fate that had befallen me.”

“What had befallen you?”

“I was in Singapore. Lovely city. I sang its praises when next she and I spoke.”

Claudia snorts. “And I bet what happened then was something you don’t want me to call a little spatlet. And I also bet it wasn’t so little anyhow.”

“In any event, she has sworn never again to make any inferences about my own location based solely upon the location of my telephone. When I contact her, she informs me of that location and asks if the telephone and I are in fact together. She is far more calm about my answers than she once was.”

“See, so I was right, now you do have little spatlets. Or littler. Because it’s true, she’s getting more laid-back about... stuff. Some stuff. Which is a good, because it’s also true that if she freaked out every time you did something new and differently weird—because let’s face it, you do a lot of new and differently weird somethings—we’d have to medicate her.”

“Do not do that. I like Myka as she is, whatever ‘freaking out’ may come. But also I have made a concerted attempt to reduce the number of new and differently weird somethings with which I confront her.”

“Keep it simple, stupid,” Claudia says.

Helena nods. “Pete has used that locution on me, so I understand that you are not conveying the insult I assumed he was. Fortunately, he explained before I tried to retaliate.” Claudia gulps at the mention of retaliation, and Helena smiles. “I have also attempted to reduce my inclination to retaliate. But further, yes, I am learning, in many arenas, to keep it—whatever ‘it’ is, in the arena under review—simple.”

And the more intimate, the more simple: though that learning had at first seemed that it might take form of a hard landing. She and Myka had hardly been together, as a couple, a particularly substantial length of time—they had hardly been together, as a physically intimate couple, a particularly substantial number of times—when, in the middle of what Helena was working with diligence to make the best physically intimate time yet (better every time, different and better, that was her determined goal), Myka stilled Helena’s very busy hands and mouth. She moved a slight distance away, so that they lay very close, but markedly apart. And then Myka said, or rather implored, “Will you please stop trying so hard! I’m sorry, but I just don’t—look, I can’t keep up. It’s like you want to prove something to me every single time, and I don’t even know what it is. And whatever it is, you don’t have to. Unless—” She stopped talking.

Helena waited, but no more words emerged. She and Myka breathed across the distance, onto each other’s skin. When Helena felt her own skin begin to cool, she asked, “Unless what?”

“Unless—are you trying to keep yourself interested?”

“What? No! I mean, yes, of course, but no, I want to make sure that you. What I mean is, I thought you would want.” She cleared her throat. “Not rote.”

“You thought I would want not rote,” Myka repeated.

“Correct.”

“I think there’s a world of difference between ‘not rote’ and ‘now we have to turn to page 42 of the manual and do that one because it’s next on the list and we haven’t done it yet.’ Because that’s what it feels like.” Helena wondered if she was perhaps expected to laugh, but Myka went on, “Though I don’t know. I’ve never been with anybody long enough for anything to seem rote in the first place.”

“I would say ‘nor have I,’ for I understand what you mean, but that would be inaccurate. A relationship need not be of notably long duration for its physical aspect to become... tedious.”

“So why can’t we just do what feels right in any given moment?”

“That is, if you will forgive me, absurd. Physical intimacy is a most strategic undertaking. Any given moment generally involves preparation for the next moment.”

Myka said, in a tone that she usually reserved for public admonishments regarding nonsense, “I meant, as long as it feels right instead of tedious.”

“Oh. Well.” Helena cleared her throat again—uncharacteristic, she admonished herself, and why are you unsettled by this? she asked herself. “Also, I have read that for the average couple, any approach that has not been attempted in the early, intense phase of their relationship, they are unlikely ever to try.”

“I’m actually okay with it if our repertoire isn’t... vast. If it isn’t the most vast. And why can’t we be something other than average in terms of what we do when? I mean it’s not like we fall in the middle of the bell curve when it comes to anything else. Also: where did you read this? When did you read this?”

“On the Internet. Some weeks ago.”

“Okay. Why did you read this?”

“For research purposes.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but... what were you researching?”

“Relationships. How they might be ideally conducted.” The existence of a felt need for help in that matter was an admission Helena had never imagined she would volunteer, so she tried to make light of it: “Do you know, a veritable industry of advice surrounds that question.”

“I kind of do know that. I might have consulted some of it myself. Maybe even for the same reason you did.” And then Helena was very glad of that reason, for Myka moved closer, and they softened into a kiss.

But the discussion was not really over, so once the kiss ended—and its end indicated that the discussion should indeed continue—Helena asked, “And what did you learn?”

“That we both probably need a lot of therapy. Most of it for things that have nothing to do with.” Myka sighed. “Sex. I really hoped this could be the easy part.”

“It is not easy,” Helena said. “It is strategic,” She had not intended the words to emerge as such a petulant whine... or perhaps she had intended that after all. For if Myka was so very dissatisfied with everything, if she did not even respect that Helena cared to consider the next moment, then what could possibly be the reason to—

“Look,” Myka said, stopping Helena’s sulk. “I’m not telling you how to think... during. It. You want to strategize? Art-of-War your heart out. But you told me what you assumed I wanted, and I’m telling you that your assumption wasn’t valid.”

Helena crossed her arms over her chest. “It might have been.”

“It might have. But you would’ve known for certain if you’d thought about checking with me. You know, the person you were making the assumption about.”

“You were right,” Helena admitted, “when you said I wanted to prove something. Several somethings, in fact.”

“There’s nothing to prove. Rote or not rote, that doesn’t matter. I don’t care if it’s new every time; I don’t even care if it’s good every time. I care that it’s you.” She shrugged her shoulders—or, no, she began a shrug, but her shoulders stayed high and tense, near her ears. “Even if you’re a little confused about the difference between sex and three-dimensional chess.”

Helena laughed. “They are both three-dimensional,” she pointed out. “But I will concede that there may be salient dissimilarities.”

Myka exhaled, and her shoulders descended. “Then I think you should come over here and figure them out.” Now she laughed. “Or pretend they’re the same thing. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Helena began to move very near again to Myka.

She moved so near, in fact, that she felt Myka’s smile, when it began to curve, against her own mouth, and even more as Myka said, “I was going to tack on a ‘within reason’ to that, but you know what? Yeah. Whatever you want. Just don’t try so hard.”

“And yet what if that is what I want? To try very, very hard to please you in ways you have never been pleased before?” But those questions were nothing but braggadocious teases. Helena had known then, and she knows now, that regardless of what might appear on all the pages of that metaphorical manual, she would be just fine without all of it. She knows too that the younger versions of herself would find such a conclusion unexpected—those versions had wanted so much, so many—but what she wants now are only time, only peace, and only one lover, this lover, with whom to share these simpler, yet superior, things.

Myka had smiled yet again, and that smile said I know. Then she said, aloud, “You do please me in ways that I’ve never been pleased before. You. Just you.”

And since the reverse was also true... “I love you,” Helena had said. She had never said it like that, unadorned and unmistakable, to Myka. Nor, for such a very long time, to anyone at all.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Helena echoed. What would come next?

What came next was that Myka kissed her, hard and quick, then said, “That’s what I want. And you understand why, right?

“I have hopes,” Helena said, but as with the unmistakable three, unadorned. No carapace of conceit.

And then Myka said those unmistakable words back to her, fine and simple and true.

Keep it simple, stupid. Myka is, as far as Helena knows, the only person among the Warehouse family who would be unlikely to say those words directly to her. (Helena is surprised that Mrs. Frederic has not yet seen fit to say them.) And yet it is only for Myka that she would ever make such a genuine effort.

Now, however, she is making a genuine effort to refrain from tesla-ing Claudia, who is tugging on her arm, pointing out the window, and shouting, “That guy has a really flashy flashlight! And this is really close to where the ping was! Turn around, Ramon; we gotta find him! Got-gotta find him! H.G., are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That the torch will come in handy when night falls, as it will soon? Or if he should happen to find himself in a poorly lit, enclosed space?”

“Alien abduction, H.G. Put that together with a flashlight shining through the fog, and what comes to mind?”

“An illuminated alien abduction?” Helena guesses.

Claudia groans. “God, that’s right, you don’t know what X Files is. Because we haven’t gotten there yet in your pop-culture lessons.”

“Film? Television program? Or perhaps Broadway musical? The latter do seem all the rage.”

“It’s the first two. Not a Broadway musical, but I just might pay Hamilton money to see X Files: The Musical. I just might. I can practically hear its big first-act ender, ‘I Want to Believe’... yeah. And there’d be some big love duet that pretends like it’s not actually a love duet, like you and Myka and your whole ‘the price is too high’ deal.” She focuses her gaze out the window, yelps at Ramon to turn left, then continues, “Actually, I think that’s the song that ends the second act in our big Warehouse musical. And of course Jinksy and me, we kill it with our ‘Never Had a BFFWYLION Like Me’ number.”

“You’ve consumed a mind-altering substance, I’m certain,” Helena tells her. “Please let me know when its effects wane.”

Ramon says, “I wanna hear this BFFWY... whatever number.”

“You bet you do,” Claudia says.

“It is an initialism,” Helena informs him. “One that is as inane as all such are.”

Claudia says, “Isn’t it an acronym? Anyway, I think he gets that. Ramon’s down with O.P.P., am I right?”

Ramon snickers just as he did earlier. He says, “Yeah, you know me,” at which Claudia, for her part, snort-giggles again. “I get the BFF part,” he says, as he responds, quite calmly, to another shouted “turn here!” once the giggle subsides. “I guess I gotta hear the song to get the rest of it. That’s good, though, man; I like musicals. That’s from my mom. And big bro was a battle DJ. Musicals and rap taught me English—wasn’t saying it right, I thought, if it didn’t got a rhythm. Like that was proper English.”

“That should totally be true!” Claudia crows. “Ramon, you are my brother from another mother. Or father. Or maybe from the same mother or father; I don’t know all that much about my family history tbh.”

“Initialisms,” Helena mutters. “But also acronyms: that hideous ‘scuba’ word.”

“You can have a song about how they’re destroying the language. Wait, can you even sing? Never mind; Broadway-H.G.’ll be able to. We’ll get Idina Menzel.”

“Now you are uttering nonsense syllables,” Helena proclaims.

Claudia shakes her head: “No, ‘Adele Dazeem’ is nonsense syllables. I see that Steve and I are gonna have to dig in and really Broadway-school you.”

Prompted by the idea of digging, Helena paws through Claudia’s satchel for her Farnsworth. She calls Myka. “Please rescue me,” she says when she sees that blessed face smiling back at her from the screen. “I will owe you everything.”

Claudia scoffs, “You always already say you owe her everything.”

“My dear sweet love,” Helena tells the face that, its owner having heard Claudia’s comment, is now smiling even more widely, “I will owe you everything raised to a power of your choosing if you will get me out of this.”

Myka laughs. “Oh no. You got us into it.”

“How in the world did I get us into it?”

A tinny laugh once again emerges from the Farnsworth. “You didn’t. But I was hoping you might forget, since of course I won’t. And exactly how do you propose I get you out of it from here, anyway?”

“We will leap out of our respective vehicles,” Helena begins.

“That would probably hurt. Besides, I’m not in my vehicle.”

“I am,” Helena says. “And it would most likely hurt. However, here is my current proposal: I will leap and bravely bear the pain, you will make your escape however you wish, and then we will meet at the hotel. Then, perhaps, you could dress my wounds. Or undress them?”

Claudia takes her eyes off the street long enough to give Helena a look of great skepticism. “Are you trying to make the idea of flinging yourself from a moving car sound sexy?”

“Only the aftermath. And only if Myka agrees.”

Yet another Farnsworth-mediated laugh: their repeated incidence is making Helena think that Myka is not, in fact, fully in “agent” mode, hotel-room-exiting attitude aside. Myka says, in a voice that indeed does not sound official at all, “You might have a weird idea or two about what’s sexy. But I—”

Claudia shouts, alarmingly close to Helena’s ear, “Anyway we’re about to snagbagtag it, so it won’t matter!” She smacks Helena’s Farnsworth closed—before Helena even can say a brief goodbye—and entreats Ramon to pull over “and wait for us, because we’re gonna be heading out in just a second to lord it over some losers.”

Helena sighs and follows her from the car.

TBC

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