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#<- i have to use this tag as well. Mom Dad and Picket Fence my beloved :]
000marie198 · 1 month
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Literally blame @myymi for this /pos. Your Unbreakable Bond story did something to my brain chemistry
What is Love
Love is confusing, hard to define
So many versions, so many kinds
You don't know what it is but you hold it deep inside,
Greater and truer than the one seen passing by
Love is keeping up even if you tire n your body aches,
Love is stopping even if you crave speed and high stakes
Love is the faith you place in each other
Growing stronger as time passes further
It's in the thumbs ups and smiles,
The fist bumps and high fives
Its's the little things you share,
And the way that you care
Love is campfire meals and sleeping under stars
Love is funny stories, banters and late night talks
Love is falling asleep with no need to stay alert
Love is safety and shelter and deep rooted trust
Love is who you run to when storm gets loud
When sky flashes white and lights go out
It's in reassurance, the murmurs that make fear subside
It's in your presence, the comfort you always provide
Love is in soothing lullabies played on a guitar
Love is in the cheers that make you feel like a star
Love is when you jump off and don't fear the fall
Knowing you'll be caught, no need for a call
Love is waking up in bed, all tucked in
Your last memory a desk and tools tinkerin'
Love is a pounce attack to force you to nap
Getting you to sleep n rest, a never failing trap
Love is the hope in your eyes,
The pride in your voice
Love is the warmth in your hugs
The sweetness in mint tea mugs
Love is your protection, an armour, a shield
Love is your support, a sword that you wield
Love is what your heart screams when your voice fails
Love is what your soul knows when your mind derails
Love is when you glance up and see home, father and mother
Love is when you look down and find a child, a friend, a brother
......
Don't tag this as a ship or I will feed you to the piranhas :)
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blnk338 · 11 months
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RWYS creative notes :3 part 5????
In chapter 35, Reaper chooses to wear what she would have usually worn around her mom— she also continues to wear flannels, jeans (ripped and not ripped). She does this subconsciously because it’s what she used to wear in her youth, absentmindedly going to her roots as she’s back in Cincinnati
Some folks may also notice that she reverts to a lot of the Midwest humility/politeness/vocab.
There's a reference to Makarov in RWYS. But I'm not saying where ;)
I finished up Inside Job just before writing RWYS and I think that Reagan might've been a factor in how I wrote Reaper. Her as well as Ellie from TLOU and Vi from Arcane!
I partially based Reaper's dad off of Joel from TLOU
Chapter 8: Cutting Onions and Cutting Ties was almost "Putting a Bandaid Over a Bullet Hole."
In that same chapter, there's a moment where Reaper asks her mom if she really misses her dad. Of course, her mom is taken aback, because, of course, she misses her husband. While Reaper's mom misses her husband, there's a large part of her that misses the idea of a perfect family rather than the man himself. She was in denial that she neglected and abused her child; in her mind, they were the perfect picket fence family. So again, yes, she misses her husband, but she also misses the picturesque perfection that they had, or so she thought. That is what Reaper was pointing out in her question on whether or not her mom missed her dad. More along the lines of, "Do you miss him or do you miss the idea of him and what we could've been with him still around?"
...Again, chapter 8... Yeah, that was Ticci Toby. I honestly just felt like adding him in for the hell of it, plus a little memoir to an old fanbase, and I had a bunch of people go ":0000 IS THAT--" Yes, yes it was.
On top of that comment, I made Toby a bit of a light in the dark. Especially at the end of their interaction, Toby chooses goodness over judgment. He's surprised at Reaper's appearance, but he's not disgusted. There's a clear sudden disconnect within her and instead of getting weird, he wishes her well. I had Toby there as sort of a lighthouse for Reaper if that makes sense. In the fog of all the bad shit that happened to her in Cincinnati, there was Toby, giving her one last salvageable interaction before her ship sailed away.
"A gun to his head and a gun to his head" -- I had SO much fun writing that sentence, I thought I was so clever LMAO
Laswell and Tiffany's house was based roughly off of my grandmother's house :)
I hinted that Ayla, John's ex-wife, is a lesbian
To properly write Rigo's tongue getting stuck in Chapter 12: A Very Merry Garfield Christmas, which was one of my favorite named chapters so far, I actually held my tongue and read his lines out loud to make it as accurate as possible.
In Chapter 15: It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Warcrime, Reaper calls Graves a pig. This was not only mocking his initials (Phillip Isabella Graves) but it was also a reference to her blaming him for the cop murdering her father.
A little construction fact: American buildings and Eastern European buildings are quite different when it comes to their structural construction; looking back, I actually wrote the structures of Chapter 15 with American buildings in mind because I am so used to looking at them (I used to work construction)
Please also notice that Graves consistently demanded Reaper for the information and REFUSED to let her hold any of the documents/evidence they collected.
Reaper fought Price (incredibly briefly) in the same chapter to hide the dog tags. Again, Graves demanded all the information to be handed to him. She explains Graves would incinerate Tahoma's dog tags; it was later mentioned that Graves would do anything to get rid of any information on Tahoma. Keep this in mind constantly.
Chapter 15: It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Warcrime's title is based on the MCR song "It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Deathwish." It was also originally the title of the chapter, but I felt that Graves' actions were far too impactful to not be mentioned in the title.
Along with that, Graves actually broke the Geneva Convention in that chapter! "Article 36 of the 1949 Geneva Convention II provides that “medical and hospital personnel of hospital ships and their crews shall be respected and protected”" Graves deliberately endangered Reaper and put her in a situation where she would most likely die. As a medic, she has special protections (stated above) and therefore, adds another war crime onto Graves' list. Oh yeah, she's also an allied soldier that was endangered under the command of a higher-ranked officer, but that's not that important... (/S /SARCASTIC)
I actually have removed a lot of scenes involving Zhao due to the fear that people find/found her therapy sessions boring or lackluster. I actually find her addition to RWYS crucial, but much of it could be told from Reaper's POV (ex: her flashbacks to their sessions). Regardless, I am withholding a lot of Zhao scenes because I don't want things to be boring.
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mookymoon · 4 months
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.•°•.°☆( 𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖈𝖞)☆°.•°•.
𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚈𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙽
is your game lacking some drama && cuteness? do you struggle coming up with your storylines don't worry i got you . this legacy is perfect for those of you that take pleasure in the good and downright bad
be prepared the drama doesn't stop in this one
this is heavily inspired by the not so berry challenge and crybaby whims coupled with some of my favorite colors this is kind of like a berry challenge. but we are wielding dual colors. each gen has two colors that will bleed into the next gen.you can utilize dual colors in multiple ways. you can create berry sims or normal sims, you do have to color coordinate their clothes makeup, change up their hair colors doesn't matter just use the colors.
tw: this challenge may cover topics that some are sensitive to like cheating, death, neglected childhood.
。:.゚゚.:。+゚。:.゚゚.:。+゚。:.゚。:.゚ヽ゚.:。+゚。:.゚ヽ。゚.:。+゚
that said, this challenge only has one path pack friendly but if you don't have packs dm me and we will discuss what we can do. Btw you can mix up traits if needed
.•°•.°☆(ʀᴜʟᴇs)☆°.•°•.
-☆You must complete each life goal that is listed.
-☆ some cheats are allowed i will clarify in each gen
-☆ no money cheats that's not fun at all
-☆ life span can be kept on normal OR long short is not recommended.
-☆ you can take sims in cas.fulledit mode to change traits if needed or just to give them a makeover
-☆ if you play this challenge plz tag me at mookymoon
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
.°•°.•.☆( STRAWBERRY)☆.•.°•°.
(𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 1)
aspiration successful lineage
traits romantic, hot headed, self assured
career non at first but go into politician as an adult
Colors red && white
you grew up a perfect white picket fence life in a perfect home. perfect parents, perfect siblings, perfect grades. nothing was ever out of place. or was it? your memory is a little jaded, it seems. You were taught mothers cook clean && maintain the house while dads work make money and eat well you met your highschool sweetheart and guess what 1 month into the relationship he cheats on you with a cheerleader you were heartbroken and cried for months then he cheats again but this time with your sibling .
Where did it all go wrong
-☆ have a sweetheart that you hate
-☆ complete aspiration
-☆ have one kid but they were an affair
-☆ mary a wealthy man just for his money when your an adult leave him with your kid and mary your highschool sweetheart
-☆ master your career don't let your husband work he watches the kid
.°•°•.( Blueberry).•°•°.
( ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 2)
aspiration body builder
traits active family oriented paranoid
Career athlete
Colors blue && white
You always loved sporty things as a kid since your mom never had time for you so you grew up with your dad and your favorite sport was basketball
You always had a love for cats but could never get one because your mom was very strict and never did anything but work so you never got what you wanted & your mom didn't let your dad work because she said well i work you don't im the new man of this house & when you were in highschool your dad died so you had nobody not even a sibling to keep you company.
What happened to my family.
-☆ have two kids so your isnt lonley
-☆ accept every invite
-☆ say yes to anything your child asks for
-☆ complete aspiration
-☆ master cooking and baking skill
-☆ reach level ten of your career
-☆ never be mean to your kid or anybody
-☆ maintain a high relationship with your child
°•.°•.(BLACKBERRY).•°.•
( 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 3)
aspiration villainous valentime
Traits un flirty cringe goofball but when you fall in love you change to romantic
Career your to gorgeous to work
Colors black && purple
You were never into romantic relationships as a kid but when you were in your last year of highschool you found your romantic partner and you guys had a good relationship for a while and made good memories but he cheated on you with your sibling/twin by accident and over time you rekindle with your highschool sweetheart and stayed with him until he cheats on you with your twin but this time on purpose and you were so madly in love with him you decide to kill your twin and lock him in your basement till you die.
Why did i do this i hate love
-☆ have the worst relationship with your twin
-☆ never work a day in your life your parent send 1000 every week
-☆ complete aspiration
-☆ adopt a kid
-☆ have at least 10000 to your name before you die you get money from your parents don't work
-☆ at least have level five of charisma && cooking
.•°.•°( PINEAPPLE)°•. .°•
Generation 4
aspiration freelance botanist
Traits loves outdoors loyal ambitious
career non at first but as an adult go into the gardner career
colors yellow and black
When you were a kid you had a love for the outdoors and plants you always wanted to be a gardner when you grew up and that was for shure you never really liked your one parent you wished you had another one but you had your animal and that's all that mattered in your highschool years you figured out you were adopted WOW that was a surprise well you already kind of knew you looked nothing like your parent and you acted nothing like them and then if that wasn't enough you found out your parent was a KILLER oh no and they killed your aunt/uncle an then adopted you so you decide to move and cut off your parent and leave all that drama behind and have a new and fresh start and find you a partner and you did take your animal so at least you have someone and finally you find a partner and you guys get married and have 3 kids together but you have an affair with your boss and you get pregnant and your spouse finds out and your alone now with four kids.
What did i do i had a perfect relationship
-☆ live in a big house with your 4 kids
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What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie
Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. It’s all fun and games until someone’s holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess it’s just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff
Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)
A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.
Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00
TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!
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It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.
“Okay, this is our last scene for the day!” Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.
Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.
“I gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briar’s traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.” Robert explained, “Cas couldn’t find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executioner’s Song.”
Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.
“Action!”
Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Sam’s heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.
Dean’s mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.
“Briar.” Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Dean’s hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.
“I-I didn’t mean to do it.” The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briar’s knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Dean’s arms.
The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.
“Dad.” Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adult’s shoulders, craving the safety of her father.
Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didn’t want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his child’s dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.
Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.
“Sh.” Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, “I’ll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. We’ll heat some soup and toast.”
On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Sam’s side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.
“Dean. Sam.” Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.
“Cas what the hell happened?” Dean demanded, “Why the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?”
END FILMING SCENE
“Cut!” Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, “I’ll watch it back. See if we need more takes.”
Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wall—a pinched expression marring your young face.
“How are you feeling after that?” Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to have sharp objects.” You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.
 “Jensen, did you really stab another person.” Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.
The glare on Jensen’s face blistered the taller actor, “I didn’t stab you. You walked into the knife.”
The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Sam’s unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.
“We got a one-take winner!” Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.
The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as you’d love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.
“Someone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.” Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.
Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.
“Towels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.” Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.
A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasn’t overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.
“The knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,” Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.
“Might as well call me butter.” You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, “You aren’t allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.”
“Danneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.” The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didn’t hide the guilt in Jensen’s green eyes.
Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.
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Julie and the Phantoms Set
Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.
That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.
“Charlie! Did you know you’ve got missed calls?” Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlie’s eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.
Stepping back from the craft table’s supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.
His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, “Megs?”
“Finally! Where have you been?” Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.
“Filming? It’s the longest day of filming the show. It’s on the family schedule.” Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.
“Jesus. Mom called me when you didn’t pick up. Y/N’s in the hospital.” Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.
“What?!” Charlie didn’t mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.
“She got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I haven’t gotten a lot of info.” Meghan told her older brother, “I know she’s getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.”
Charlie couldn’t tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owen’s therapist for his anxiety.
His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlie’s painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.
“Just let me finish this one sentence.” The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, “How can I help you?”
“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.” Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadian’s eyes bright with panic and a deep fear
The nurse’s eyes softened, “I can’t give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.”
“I’m here-“
“Husband! He’s her husband, they eloped so she hasn’t changed her last name or updated her information.” Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadn’t even bothered changing into their street clothing.
The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.
“My name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and I’ll do my best to give you answers.” Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.
Owen’s long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”
“My girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I can’t wait for an elevator.” Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owen’s sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.
Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlie’s heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.
The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each other’s co-stars.
“What the hell?” Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, “Did you get mugged? Are you okay?”
“Char, take a breath, man.” Owen’s blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlie’s breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.
“Whoa! Charlie. I’m fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.” Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlie’s hand to comfort him, “I lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.”
“How do you get stabbed accidently?” Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.
“Well, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?” Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jared’s side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.
“I-“Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.
The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.
“Okay Miss Y/L/N.” Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, “I see your entourage grew. I’m Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/N’s husband.”
Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctor’s words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.
“Yeah, my husband.” You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.
“I can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesn’t have anything that shouldn’t be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, we’ll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.”
“Nurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. We’ll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.” Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.
Charlie’s lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.
“I’ll sing anything.” Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, “Oh!”
I’m booking myself a one-way flight
 I gotta see the color in your eyes
 And telling myself I’m gonna be alright
 Without you baby is a waste of time
The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said ‘oh’.
Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed
 It got washed away in a summer rain
 You can’t undo a fall like this
 ’Cause love don’t know what distance is
 Yeah, I know it’s crazy
Charlie’s hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.
“He loves her,” Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kid’s phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.
“I’ve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,” Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.
“As I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.” 
But I don’t want “good”, and I don’t want “good enough.”
 I want “can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love”
 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn’t make sense to anybody else
“Charlie.” You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd setting—his hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.
The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound. 
Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.
Who cares if you’re all I think about,
 I’ve searched the world and I know now,
 It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind.
 Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy
 Are you with me baby? Let’s be crazy
Charlie’s voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. That’s how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.
“Thank you.” You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.
Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.
“For what?” Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriend’s gaze.
“For dropping everything to be here.” The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.
“My girl-“
“Don’t you mean wife?” You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, you’d been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlie’s things had just accumulated there.
“It was the only way they’d let me in.” Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, “It’s a little early to call you, but I’m excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.”
The chuckle fell from your lips, “So, you want to marry me?”
“In front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.” Charlie spoke, “There’s no one else I’d like by my side for the rest of my life.”
A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.
“How did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?” Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadian’s heart.
“The same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.” Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.
“Seriously how do you get stabbed accidently?” Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.
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theodorecanaryhood · 3 years
Text
Family life
As requested by tagged user below: check them out 😉
Jason Todd and Bat family x female reader. Jason has a secret family that the batfam didn't know about. Then they meet them by accident.
Five years ago you met Jason when he the Red Hood, he saved you from a mugging in an alleyway in Gotham City.
He walked you home and eventually asked for your number, however Jason could never see himself as a settle down type. Bit he was smitten by you, you were sarcastic and tough. Plus you were hilarious which he liked a lot.
Him not settling down changed when you told him you were pregnant.
'What?' He asked in shock, as he stared at you with wide eyes from the hallway of your apartment.
'I'm pregnant' you repeated, holding up the pregnancy test which read...yup, positive.
'Holy shit y/n, this can't... I can't, I can't do this' he said welling up, you rushed over and hugged him.
'It's ok to be scared Jason, I'm scared too. But we will be fine, we got this' you reassured him, Jason placed a hand on your stomach and smiled.
'Marry me' Jason blurted out, now you stared at him with wide eyes.
'I'm sorry?'
'Now I'm serious, marry me' Jason repeated, smiling at you.
'Jason I... uh...yes' you said as you wrapped your arms around him. Kissing him deeply.
...
Now three years later, you were settled as a married couple. With your three year old daughter, Delilah. Who was a carbon copy of her Daddy.
You knew about Red Hood, but only because Jason had to tell you a year ago. Your Father got involved with Falcone and Victor Zsasz. When Black Mask and Moroni got involved your Dad fell in too deep, Red Hood had to save him. Then turn him into the GCPD.
One thing always bothered you, you'd never met Jason's family. You knew hardly anything about them.
Jason loved your mum however, she was his favourite person (after you and Delilah), and being an only child your mum, Melissa, was able to focus all her attention on you three.
'I'm taking Delilah to Play school tomorrow, is that OK y/n?' Melissa asked you, you smiled at her.
'Of course Mom, that's perfect thank you' you replied.
'Where are my favourite girls?' Jason called out, all three of you turning around smiling.
'Daddy' Delilah called out in excitement as she ran over to Jason, Jason leant down to pick her up.
'Hey princess' he smiled as he kissed his little girl sweetly.
'Jason' your mum smiled as she hugged him, 'I'd better go, I'll be back tomorrow for my little angel' she said as she gave Delilah a deep kiss in the head.
'Good day?' You asked as you kissed Jason, Delilah buried her face into her Dad's neck, getting comfortable.
'Yeah, was interesting. Was thinking we should have a movie night' Jason replied, you smiled.
'Sure, I'll do dinner first' you replied, Jason put Delilah on the floor to play with her toys.
'I'll run to the store and get some snacks. Be back in 10' Jason said as he kissed you both goodbye and left.
...
'Are you sure this is the right place?' Tim asked as he looked down at his phone, reading Google maps.
'I'm sure, this is one of his secret hide outs' Dick replied.
'Why is it so secret anyway?' Damian asked, Bruce shrugged.
'Who knows, we're here now anyway' Dick smiles as he points to the house in front of them.
'Whoa, picket fence and garden? Does that sound like Jason?' Tim asks as they all approach the front door.
Approaching the door Bruce knocks firmly on the oak door. Little footsteps approach as the door swings open.
'Hello?' Delilah speaks, Bruce and his sons look confused at the little girl.
'Uhm, hi?' Dick answers, a woman runs out into the hallway.
'Who are? Bruce Wayne?' You say confused, they all look at you and then at Delilah.
'Is it just me or does she look like...' Tim begins but is interrupted when Jason runs upto them.
'What the hell are you guys doing here?' Jason booms as he approaches them. You stand confused.
'Jason you know these guys?' You ask, holding Delilah in your arms.
'Y/n, these are my Brothers and Bruce, my Father' Jason replied, shyly.
'What?' You answer shocked,
'Guys this y/n my wife, and our Daughter Delilah'
'What?' The boys almost shout in unison. Jason just goes over to you and puts an arm around you and Delilah.
'Back to my first question, what are you guys doing here?' Jason asks again, they all just stare at the three of you. In shock, or atleast what you think shock looks like. Mostly because you can imagine that's what you look like now.
'You got married?' Dick asks,
'You have a child?' Tim asks,
'You never told us?' Damian asks,
'She never knew about us?' Bruce asks,
'People, one question at a time please' Jason rolls his eyes. Everyone just stares blankly at each other.
'Yes I'm married, yes I have a child. And no, I never told her about you guys because I didn't want y/n and Delilah to get involved in all this' Jason explained.
'Well...you' Bruce was gonna speak but was lost for words. Dick and Damian were in sync and were just confused, he found the time to get married and make a child and also be Red Hood. And no one was the wiser about anything.
'Jason, why didn't you tell them? Or me?' You asked shyly, Jason just stroked your hair.
'I would've given everything up for you, but I also would've died before letting you get involved in any of this' Jason said sweetly.
You loved your Husband, more than anything and not only that, he was the Father to your child. His family, they looked so sad they never knew.
'I think you all need to talk' you suggested as you took Delilah into the next room. Jason pleaded with his eyes, but you held strong and carried your Daughter out of the room.
...
It was a good hour before anyone showed signs of living, Dick, Tim and Bruce were first to come in. Followed by a reluctant Damian.
'Hi I'm Dick' Dick smiled as he held his hand out to you, you shook it with a smile. 'This is Tim, Bruce and Damian' he finished.
'Great to finally meet you guys, even under the circumstances. I'm sorry' you said, Bruce sat down next to you and Delilah who instantly went over to him.
'May I?' Bruce asked you shyly, you smiled and nodded at him. Bruce held his arms out and picked up your little girl, she looked very comfortable in his arms.
Jason walked in to see Delilah snuggled in Bruce's arms.
'Hey Jason' you smiled, Bruce stood up and walked over to Jason, Dick taking hold of Delilah.
'Son, I'm proud of you' Bruce spoke to Jason, Jason's eyes watered up and he instantly took hold of his Father.
You smiled as you watched Jason have a tender moment with his Father. Delilah looked up brightly at her Uncle Dick, he looked back at her with instant love.
The boys all sat round and chatted to you both, taking turns to play with Delilah.
'I would die for this child' Damian said as he looked in her eyes. He wasn't aware he said it out loud until he saw everyone's faces.
'I can babysit' Tim cracked as everyone started laughing.
'I love you' Jason whispers to you as he takes your hand.
'I love you too' you smile.
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I just really love this gif!! Hope you all enjoyed 😊
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@mkknrd22robinlover
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magniloquent-raven · 3 years
Text
more of my trans billy ficlets here 💕
--
thing is, billy never wanted kids.
he didn't even like playing with the stupid plastic babies that out of touch relatives thought made good christmas gifts. the dolls stayed in a sad creepy little pile in his closet—shoved in the corner behind the laundry hamper—til he was ten, and his father started really cracking down on his be grateful for what you have campaign.
billy still insists that using his mom's hairspray to set them on fire counts as playing with them. but that particular argument ended with billy icing a black eye, peeking through the bathroom window to watch his dad lug what was left of his dresser to the dumpster across the street.
point is, billy's never had any interest in being a parent, not even playing pretend at being one.
and that was never really a problem, no guy stuck around long enough for it to ever be a conversation they'd have to have.
until steve.
and steve...steve was fucking born to be a dad, and billy knows it. even without knowing all about the botched dream of a white picket fence happy ending with his high school sweetheart, without having seen that wistful look in his eye when he talks about how he was going to take a shitty job with his dad and live out his suburban i-peaked-in-high-school fantasy, even without all that, it's still obvious.
because he's happy mothering his rag-tag band of ducklings, even though they're too old to be babysat now. because he lights up with the most precious fucking goofy grin when random babies wave at him in public. because he knows all the ways his parents went wrong, and he's exactly the kind of person who'd do better just to spite them.
but billy doesn't know if he's that kind of person. and he's not sure if he'd ever forgive himself if it turns out he isn't.
he's not sure what he'll do about it if steve ever asks, so he's been doing the only logical thing. avoiding the subject entirely.
which, obviously doesn't last.
they've been together for three years. they share an apartment. marriage and kids and all that normal adult couple shit is what mature people talk about when they're in committed relationships, apparently.
it started with a favour for a friend.
some girl steve works with needed someone to watch her toddler for a couple hours, and of course steve volunteered. would've been fine if he hadn't forgotten something at home and called billy to ask him to drop it off.
and, see, it wasn't like he meant to stay, the kid was just so fucking clingy, and took a shying to billy of all people.
and billy saw the little soft-eyed smiles steve kept throwing his way whenever the kid latched onto his leg or babbled at him in toddler-speak that billy had to pretend to understand. he noticed. he's can't stop noticing. can't stop nervously glancing at steve, anxiety threading itself around his heart, his lungs, til he's all tangled up in it, tied up, stomach lurching when it pulls and tightens. he's tense, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
and it does. in the car on the way home.
"you ever think about having kids?" steve is trying so hard to be nonchalant that it's almost painful. he's tracing patterns on his jean-clad thigh, billy can see him out of the corner of his eye. he keeps his gaze locked on the road.
he should probably ease into it. maybe. he has no idea, actually, this is probably gonna be a shit-show either way. for one, brief, horrifying moment he wonders if steve would break up with him over this and he can't breathe for a second.
and when his lungs expand again what comes tumbling out of his mouth is—
"i'd be a shitty dad, steve."
he winces at his own tone.
"fuck off, you would not." steve's vehemence surprises him enough that he forgets not to look. steve's brow is furrowed, his jaw set in a stubborn pout.
billy chews his lip silently, fingers tight on the steering wheel. "what makes you so sure," he asks quietly.
"you're kidding, right?" steve huffs. there's a pause, and his palm lands on billy's bicep, warm and grounding. "i'm sure because i know you." he squeezes billy's arm, "and...max and i talk," he adds, voice soft.
"knew introducing you two was a bad idea," billy mumbles. "fucking gossiping behind my back"
steve snickers. "all good things, i promise."
"right."
"...mostly good things."
"hm."
"come on, she loves you and you know it."
billy sighs, a half-hearted grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "yeah."
"and so do i."
"...you better." his smile grows when steve slaps his shoulder. "yeah, yeah, love you too, jesus."
"you better," steve echoes sarcastically. after a quiet moment of slowly drawing circles up and down billy's arm he adds, "i doubt myself too, y'know. it's not like i have any idea how to parent, mine weren't around enough to help me figure that shit out." he snorts.
"oh come on, you parent the shit out of those dorky brats of yours."
"nah..." steve shrugs, his hand slipping from billy's shoulder. "i was just. there, i guess. not like they listened to me or anything. which was probably good, 'cause i gave shitty advice and swore too much."
"you must done something right, they're still around." he glances over at steve. he's not looking back, he's got his forearms folded across his stomach, fingers curled around his elbows, slouched in on himself. billy reaches over and slips his hand around one of steve's. "hey. every one of those kids looks up to you, and you fucking earned that."
the rest of the drive is spent in companionable silence. billy knows its not the end of the conversation, not even close. it's going to come up again later, but it feels less looming and terrifying now. it's hard to be too scared of what-ifs when steve is two feet away and fiddling with one of billy's rings with a soft smile on his face.
later turns out to be when they've settled into bed for the night.
when steve rolls over, tugging billy's arm until it's draped around his waist, and he wiggles around trying to get his pillow squished just right. and billy watches him with an amused smile. and steve grins back, for a second, before he bites his lip, and—
"so, i...do want kids. um. just to be clear."
billy sighs. "yeah, i figured."
"i know you'd be great at it, billy," steve says quietly, firm and gentle and so damn sure that billy almost wants to believe him. "and we'd make a real pretty kid"
"jesus, harrington."
"what? it's true."
billy huffs a laugh. "yeah." he shifts, sheets rustling around his legs. "i never wanted kids, you know. always fuckin...freaked me out. the idea of it." steve watches him quietly, a warm hand on his chest, waiting patiently as billy pauses. "still fuckin' freaks me out. but you...it's less terrifying when i think about doing it with you. maybe."
"yeah?" steve's grin is blinding, his whole fucking body curling into it.
"maybe. keep it in your pants, bambi."
steve kisses him, cupping his cheek and leaning in slow and careful. "it's okay if the answer is no. it's okay. i'm just..." he nuzzles a little, eyes falling shut and a soft, contented smile warming his face. "makes me feel all special that you'd even consider it. for me."
yeah it's starting to look like there isn't a whole lot billy wouldn't consider doing for steve.
he snorts, and kisses steve's nose. "yeah well, don't get used to it."
"mm," steve snuggles closer. "wouldn't dream of it."
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laheyyisaac · 4 years
Text
Overdue
chapter 1 — american legion
SUMMARY: Guinevere Bailey just moved to McKinney, TX in order to figure out her life. She meets Captain Hank Syverson at the local library, and she finds out she might have bitten off more than she can chew. PAIRING: Syverson x OFC WORD COUNT: 1299 A/N: hii! first fic here! just now starting. i’m going to be making a graphic for it if i can when i get back to my computer back home. inspired and encouraged by @promptandpros, so this first chapter’s for you, babe. thanks so so much to @alyxkbrl for reading over this one! if you’d like to be added to my tags list, please IM or inbox me! TAGS:  @promptandpros @alyxkbrl​ @completelybonkersentirelymad @mylifefallingupthestairs @kissthatlifeaway @dangerouslovefanfic PART 2
“Where’s Carly-Jean? Gwen, have you seen her?”
Guinevere Bailey glanced up from her cart of books, eyes wide as she sat down the one she was shelving. She shook her head, and her coworker nodded, zipping off to the next person. It had been a long day today, mostly filled with library patrons who were less than excited about some new feature they had rolled out. 
She had worked at her little library in McKinney, Texas for two years now. Gwen had been a former resident of Dallas, TX, and the significantly smaller McKinney was well received. Moving there had been the best thing she’d done, and she was only a 30 minute drive from Dallas anyway.
Her family was more sad than upset, and she made a habit to visit the house she’d lived in for twenty some odd years every now and again. Just to get filled up on casserole and the like. She’d left, mostly, because of her family. She’d desired to actually get away from them a bit more, so she’d moved out to Dallas proper when she was 20. Five years of that, and she had moved to McKinney. She was approaching 30 now, and she still had no idea what she wanted. Not really.
She supposed she could keep working with the library, but she wanted more. She had always wanted more. Sometimes she wanted the picket fence life with a baby on her hip. Other days she wanted to be a woman in charge of a career. Something exciting. Something boring. She wasn't sure what exactly she wanted yet. She was supposed to know. Thirty wasn't so far away.
"Gwen, go set up for the Veteran's thing in the auditorium." Her supervisor, Jerry, with his monotone and furrowed white brows, looked over at her, watching her zone out and, essentially, panic.
She nodded to soothe his fears, putting her books away happily and trudging towards the keys to grab the one's for the auditorium. It was short work, setting up the microphone and laptop for the PowerPoint. They were having someone talk today. Or rather, the American Legion was. Gwen didn't know. She only knew that they probably wouldn't know how to work the computer.
"Am I in the right spot?" Someone asked, and Gwen whipped her head around with a squeak at the sound. 
He was handsome, well built, and very tall. His head was buzzed, but his beard was almost unkempt, long but...looking rather soft. Gwen struggled for words. Obviously, he was in the right spot. He was dressed in a rather nice uniform. He was an army man by the looks of him. She swallowed and finally spoke up when she noticed his brow quirked.
“Yeah. You’re in the right spot. Though, you’re about a half hour early.”
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, putting hands on his hips. “Well, my mama always told me that being on time was being late. Guess I still listen to her from time to time.”
“Smart.”
He looked at her name tag briefly and extended his hand. “Hank Syverson,” he said, introducing himself. Or at least, Gwenn assumed he was introducing himself.
“Gwen Bailey. Nice to meet you, Mr. Syverson,” she replies, shaking his large hand.
He shakes his head and waves his other hand in a sign of distaste. “No. No. Just...just Sy. If you want. Don’t go by Hank much, and Mr. Syverson is my pa.”
She grins as he keeps a hold of her hand. It’s warm, and he’s fairly warm. If not a bit scraggly. She reluctantly releases his hand and looks around. “Well, Sy, it’s lovely to meet you. Hope to see you around sometime?”
The question was open ended. She didn’t know if he lived in McKinney or if he just… was here for this....talk.
“Yeah. You need help with anythin’? My mama’s outside gettin’ books for my nieces and nephews, and I don’t really wanna go look at kiddie books for the next half hour.”
“Sure! Sure. You can help me set up these chairs. You look strong enough.”
His laughter makes Gwen feel warm inside. “Yeah, that’s what I’m good for, anyhow.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were done, and all Gwen really had to do now was wait for the American Legion folk. While they worked, she and Sy had talked about a few things. He was a captain in the US Army. He’d been stationed in a great many places, namely Baghdad, and he was on leave for the foreseeable future. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t have the heart to ask, considering he looked rather forlorn about it.
“My mama’s happy about it. She was over the moon when I told her I was comin’ back. She expected me to move back to my place in Dallas, but I missed home. Missed my family. So I’m temporarily a man child, living with my parents.” He laughed at that, his laugh so easy and sweet.
“What about you?” He asked. “You a McKinney native, or…?”
“No,” Gwen said softly. “Not really. My mom and dad live outside Dallas. One of those big Texas lady mansion houses. I lived in Dallas for a bit, but I left. Not sure why. Just got tired of it.”
Sy nodded, as though he understood. Maybe he did. Maybe he knew exactly what she meant. “I get that. It gets monotonous sometimes. We need changes of scenery.”
“You’re weirdly prolific, you know it?”
“Yeah, I’m dumb enough to say smart shit sometimes.”
“I like it.” Gwen hadn’t intended to say it like that, but he smiled nonetheless. They sat down in the chairs they set up, sitting with two chairs between them. She looked over at him, sitting in companionable silence. After a few minutes, he decided to say something, opening his mouth. 
“I was wondering if —” He was interrupted by the American Legion president, smiling and calling out his name.
“Hank Jr.! How are ya, boy?” He asked, and Gwen had to stifle a laugh. Sy was anything but a boy.
Sy stands and extends his hand, shaking with the president. His name was Jackson if Gwen remembered right. She was a little peeved at him, having been curious about what he’d been about to ask. Or say. Or anything.
She was at least hopeful this wouldn’t be the last time they’d see one another. She waved goodbye to Sy and spoke with Jackson for a moment, giving him all he’d need for his presentation. She felt Sy’s eyes on her back as she left.
A few hours later, Gwen was in the back, processing books. She rather liked the process, covering the books in dust jackets or tape to protect them. It was nice. Kinda fun too. She got into a rhythm, mind absent and thinking on Sy for the rest of the evening. He was nice. Genuine. Funny. Cute. All of the above. She wondered if she’d ever hear from him again. She cursed herself for not getting his number.
“Gwen?”
Gwen looked up at one of the clerks she worked with. Lacey. She was relatively young, younger than Gwen at least by a few years. Gwen gave her a smile and looked up, pausing her work for just a moment.
“That uhhh… guy who was at the American Legion thing…”
“Jackson?”
“No, the speaker guy. The younger one.”
“Yeah?” Gwen asked, unable to hide the anticipation in her voice.
“He left his number for you. I can throw it away if you want. I get dudes hitting on me all the time.”
“No! No, I’ll take it.” And Gwen plucked the paper from her hands, looking at the messy print. Sy. And then, 10 numbers that made her grin. 
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elizabeethan · 3 years
Text
It’s About Bloody Time (We Celebrate)
🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃
This quick, sorta smutty one shot, which I finished at 11:57 pm, takes place in the It’s About Bloody Time universe. Inspiration struck when I saw this post.
Also on Ao3
Corrine is ecstatic for Halloween. She desperately wanted to dress in the old sexy vampire costume that she saw in Emma’s closet, but at three years old, Emma thinks that may be a horrible idea. She’s been throwing a fit all afternoon over not getting her way, so her parents decide to compromise. Emma and Killian will be unsexy vampires, and Corrine will be their baby vampire bat.
She is absolutely adorable.
Henry is too cool to dress up with his mom and step-dad and instead chose to spend the evening with Violet and some other friends from school. Emma isn’t uncomfortable with the idea of her son spending Halloween with his girlfriend, really.
“Momma!” Corrine calls from her father’s shoulders ahead of Emma. “I’m flying, look!” She holds her black wings in her hands and let’s them flap through the air as Killian cackles evilly.
“So spooky!” Emma calls back as she hurries to catch up with them.
Corrine has gotten lots and lots of candy by the end of the night; now that it’s nearly 9:30, she looks like she may fall asleep as she walks, so Killian hoists her into his arms and rests her against his shoulder. She’s gotten so much taller and heavier over the last few months, but she can see that Killian misses treating her like the baby she used to be.
“Time to get her home,” he says finally, once she's safely tucked into his arms.
“She’ll sleep well, once we get the black shit off her face.”
“Black stuff, darling.” She giggles and bumps his shoulder with hers.
Once they get home and cross their white picket fence to get to the door, she wipes away the makeup from Corrine’s face as she sleeps, then changes her into pajamas and tucks her into her toddler bed, planting a kiss on her forehead. Killian gives her a kiss as well, then leads Emma down the hall to their room.
He turns her swiftly, as soon as the door is shut, and plants her against the wood so that he can kiss her thoroughly. She hums into his mouth as his tongue slips past her lips, causing him to groan lowly and squeeze his hands against her ass.
“You looked so insatiable tonight, my love,” he says against her neck before he pulls her away from the door and leads her towards the bed.
“I wasn’t even wearing my sexy vampire costume.”
Her legs hit the mattress and he guides her down gently as he continues to slide his lips down her body until he’s biting the soft flesh of her stomach. “That one probably would’ve ended me.”
She giggles again as he tugs on her tight leather pants until they’re sliding down her legs and she’s exposed to him. “Were you not wearing anything underneath?”
“Would’ve had lines,” she breathes out.
“Bloody hell.” He lifts her knees and she rests a heel on his back once he presses a soft kiss to her core. When his tongue sneaks out against her, she breathes out a moan, and when his strokes along her center increase in speed and intensity, her moans only grow louder.
His tongue stills as he pulls his face away, but it’s replaced with his fingers as he drives her closer and impossibly closer to the edge of the cliff that she wants to throw herself off of. She’s so, so close as his two fingers stroke along her tight muscles, but she lets out a yelp when he bites on her inner thigh.
Her eyes shoot open at the strange sensation of dull teeth bruising her flesh, and when she looks down at him, he’s grinning up at her with a pair of fake vampire fangs hanging from his mouth. Bastard.
“Are you kidding me?”
He laughs at her, but continues to curl his fingers into her and press his thumb to her clit. He quickens his movements, drawing her closer still, until she’s falling with a silent cry as he continues to work her through.
“Happy Halloween, darling.”
~~~~
~~~~
Tagging: @courtorderedcake​​ @kmomof4​​ @stahlop​​ @klynn-stormz​​ @laschatzi​​ @emelizabeth88​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @kday426​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​ @captain-emmajones​ @gingerpolyglot​ @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @superchocovian​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @tiganasummertree​ @gingerchangeling​ @jrob64​ @onceratheart18​ @xhookswenchx​​ @winterbaby89​​ @swampmedusa​ @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​ @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells​
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jlalafics · 4 years
Text
“Stand by Me”-an Everlark one-shot
This prompt was requested by @all-consuming and my prereader @keelaree. 
I’m sure that this wasn’t what you expected, but I was vey inspired by a subplot in a K-drama that I watched recently and just went with it.
Prompt request: “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting very suspicious” 
Trigger warnings: child abuse, kidnapping, reference to suicide
Summary: Peeta Mellark returns home to find himself mysteriously drawn to his little sister’s best friend. Mature themes.
~~~~~
“When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we see
No I won't be afraid
No I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me…”
—Ben E. King “Stand By Me
 ~~~~~~
“Move faster!”
He clutches her hand tightly as they run out of the forest.
It’s well after midnight, too late for children their age to be out and about. Katniss’ two braids have become unraveled and her flowered nightgown is dirty and torn at its bottom. He isn’t any better with torn jeans and his ankles burning, each step agony.
But he presses on, he needs to make sure she is safe.
“Peeta, I’m scared,” Katniss tells him in her tiny voice. Everything about her is tiny. Except for her eyes. They are big pools of silver surrounded by dark lashes; each lash wet with tears. “I want to go home.”
“That’s where I’m taking you,” he grumbles. “We just have to get out of here.”
They walk and walk and walk…Peeta feels himself beginning to cramp up. Katniss is starting to falter. What did he expect from a child of five?
He looks up at the sky—a full moon. It feels like forever since he’s seen the sky.
Tears gather in his eyes. What if his family has given up on him?
By some miracle, they find themselves on the main street of the town next to their own. There are people everywhere and Peeta tightens his hold on Katniss’ small hand.
“Stay close to me,” he tells her.
Katniss squeezes his hand. “I won’t let go.”
A group of people stumble out of a bar as its jukebox plays ‘Only You’ by the Platters, and Katniss presses herself to him, seeing a man fall to the ground and vomit on the concrete. Protectively, Peeta puts an arm around her as they move away from the rush of people.
It is nearly sunrise when Peeta reaches her house; no one is probably even aware that Katniss has been gone.
“Go right to bed,” he tells her sternly. “And, don’t go walking out of your house in the middle of the night again!”
Her gaze is solemn. “I promise, Peeta.” She holds out her little finger. “Pinkie swear?”
He indulges her and hooks their pinkies together, a tired smile of relief gracing his lips. “Go now.”
“Thank you for protecting me,” Katniss tells him, her cheeks perked by her sunny smile. “I’m going to marry you.”
“That’s stupid,” he responds. “You’re only five!”
However, even at the tender age of nine, Peeta is flattered at her declaration.
This little wisp of a girl is so sure that her heart belongs to him.
“When you’re older, you’ll find someone else to love and marry,” he says to appease her.
“I will be older, but I will still love and marry you!” she declares, chin up defiantly.
Peeta nods. “Okay, when we are older.”
++++++
Peeta opens his eyes as the train cart jolts. He looks around, finding his entire compartment empty. His back aches; exhausted from the plane ride back to the States followed by the four-hour train ride back to his hometown.
It’s been years since he’s been home. His family would usually visit his boarding school in England for the holiday. Eventually after school was over, his wanderlust took him away to the different sides of the world.
He chases for peace of mind—but it never comes.
Nightmares plague him even in the most beautiful of places. He found himself crouched and shaking on the balcony of his hotel in Mykonos before finally deciding to come home.
Peeta decides to walk home; the Mellark Home is just a scant ten minutes away from the train station. He wants to get back into the rhythm of small-town life before he’s bombarded by his family. They are wonderful people, loving and supportive, but he often feels as if they walk on eggshells around him.
Everyone but his little sister, sunny girl that she is.
As he reaches the block where his home is, Peeta feels like he’s going back in time. Everything has remained the same; the street sign still has a sticker that Rye, his older brother, placed as a dare by one of the Hawthorne boys.
The large trailer that Haymitch Abernathy and his wife Effie use for camping trips is still parked in front of their house.
His home looms over him, a perfect two-story colonial with flower boxes at its windows and a white picket fence. His mother is an avid gardener and it shows in the perfect flower beds at the front of the house. He recognizes his sister’s namesake immediately, right by the door, and finds his mouth perking into a semblance of a smile.
A flash of white suddenly catches his peripheral vision.
Looking to the building next door, Peeta suddenly freezes.
Dark hair and grey eyes catch him. She is wearing a thin, white nightgown and the morning light catches the outline of a feminine figure. Her tanned legs hang from the porch fence she has perched herself on and her hands reach into a bucket sitting next to her.
She pulls her hands out—her fingers, delicate and graceful—before she touches them together to make a circle. Her rose-colored lips rise and she exhales as bubble forms and flies out into the air.
Her gaze follows the bubble and a grin forms on her mouth as she watches it fly off—
“Peeta!”
Prim is running towards him, golden hair flying with her, and he catches her easily in his arms.
“You’re home!” she cries happily and Peeta smiles fondly at her. “Did you walk from the train station?”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Peeta replies, his voice raspy. “The town is nice and quiet at this time.”
“It’s always quiet around here,” Prim explains, taking his hand and leading him up the stone pathway. “Mom and Dad aren’t awake yet, but they’ll be so happy you’re back…Rye and Cashmere are coming for dinner…you’ll get to meet Baby Sarah…”
He listens dutifully but can’t help but look next door.
She is staring at him, still as tiny as ever, her hands clasped together.
He is awestruck by her innocence and happy to know that there is no darkness reflected in those lovely grey eyes.
There is only hope.
Her mouth rises in a small smile.
Before Peeta knows it, she is gone, disappearing into her home but leaving him with an unknowing ache inside.
++++++
Dinner is a happy affair.
His parents are thrilled that he is home. His mother is still the picture of elegance, her blonde hair in a perfect chignon and her smile is brings such youth to her face that it’s almost hard to believe that she is the mother of three grown children. His father, ruthless businessman that the newspapers report him to be, is actually a kind, caring person whose greatest treasure is his family.
They did everything under the sky to make sure that he was alright and Peeta is grateful; he loves them for it, but he can’t help but feel like he’s missing that part in his mind that makes him able to convey it. Prim and Rye are boisterous and loud, unable to not pull him into their arms for hugs. Upon his arrival, Rye cried just seeing his baby brother on their couch.
They’re at the tail end of dinner when there’s a knock on the front door.
Katniss enters their dining room and Peeta immediately stands up at the sight of her. Her hair is down, raven waves framing her pretty face, and she wears a simple green dress that makes her look like a woodland pixie.
Everyone stares at his motion; his parents amused while his siblings look to him curiously.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as he sits back down, his eyes darting up just to see the wisp of a smile on her mouth.
“Katniss!” Prim rushes over, giving her a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Rue and I made pies,” she explains shyly. “I know how much you like peach, so I brought it over.”
His mother, gracious hostess she is, goes to Katniss to take the pie pan from her.
“Thank you, Katniss! Go ahead and have a seat, sweetheart.”
His father grabs a spare chair, putting it between himself and Prim. He stands, so used to doing it during events at boarding school, as she sits and doesn’t hesitate to help push her seat for her. He almost grins seeing that her feet are just a little bit off the ground before sitting down.
Katniss looks to him. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you,” he tells her quietly, his throat tight at the sight of her.
He learns that they moved into the house next door when she was ten after her father passed away. Also, that Katniss’ mother remarried three years ago, and Katniss has a stepsister, Rue, who is eight years old. By the way she talks about the young girl, it’s obvious they are close.
“I’m taking her to that carnival that just opened this weekend,” she tells his family as they eat dessert.
“I want to go!” Prim cries out excitedly. She is nineteen, but there is still that youthful excitement in her eyes. “May I please tag along?”
“Of course, Prim,” Katniss tells her. She looks around, before her eyes go to him. “All of you are invited.”
His parents decline, but Rye and Cashmere agreed, and his parents offer to babysit Sarah, his cherub looking niece, so they can have an actual date night.
“How about you, Peeta?” His father asks.
He nods immediately, his eyes going to the girl next to him. “Sounds like fun.”
++++++
As Peeta gets ready for bed, there’s a knock on his door and he is surprised to find his parents on the other side. He widens the door and they enter, his father sitting at the chair next to his desk and his mother at the end of his bed.
“We just wanted to check on you,” his father starts. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been home—almost fourteen years, actually.”
“I know,” Peeta replies and looks around. “Looks like you never changed the place. If I open my bedside drawer, am I going to find those mini chocolates I used to carry around?”
“You always did have a sweet tooth,” his mother says with a smile. “How are you, Peeta?”
“Some days are hard,” he admits. “But I can’t keep running anymore.”
“We’ve missed you,” his father tells him, his voice on the verge of weeping.
His father’s voice had only sounded like that once before; the day that Peeta woke up in a hospital bed screaming bloody murder, begging them to get that woman away from him.
“No matter what, she’s going to be part of me,” Peeta explains. “Part of my nightmares.”
His mother hurriedly brushes away her tears. “Oh sweetheart, we failed to protect you—”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You are our son,” his father intones. “We will always worry about you and want to take care of you.”
Peeta nods; his chest filling with that familiar heaviness that comes with the night.
“I’m tired,” he tells them, suddenly listless.
Both stand, his mother kissing his forehead and his father patting his shoulder before bidding him goodnight.
Sleep does not come.
++++++
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Prim tells him as they walked into the entryway of the carnival. “It’s been ages, really.”
“I’m happy that I’m back,” Peeta replies. “Why does this place look so familiar?”
“It’s part of the old camping grounds, remember?” Prim skips down the path towards the carousel. “Look! There’s Katniss!” She jogs ahead to go greet her friend, just he sees an image in his mind of two children running out of the camping grounds to escape a madwoman.
Peeta makes his way his over, his eyes on Katniss, her hair in a long braid. She is wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with white sneakers on her tiny feet. Next to her is a young girl, mocha-skinned with wide almond eyes.
“Hello,” Katniss greets him with a friendly smile. “I’m glad you came.”
His mouth raises slightly. “Thanks for inviting us.”
Katniss puts a hand to the young girl’s shoulder. “Rue, this is Peeta. He’s Prim’s older brother.”
The girl stares up at him shyly. “Hello, Peeta. It’s nice to meet you.”
Kneeling before the girl, he holds out his hand. “Hello, Rue. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
His eyes go quickly to Katniss, who flushes as their eyes met.
Rue shakes his hand and then turns to her sister. “He’s cute.”
“Rue!” Katniss takes the young girl’s hand, avoiding his eyes.
“Well, he is!” Rue insists.
It was starting to get crowded; Prim had disappeared, and his eyes search anxiously for her.
“She went to get food,” Katniss informs him, seeing his concern. “Your sister has an ever-stretching stomach, skinny thing she is.” Her eyes go down to her own figure. “I look like I’ve obviously had too many desserts.”
Peeta looks her over quickly; she is definitely curvy, her waist small and her hips full—a true Botticelli, which he finds overwhelmingly appealing.
“You look perfect,” he finds himself saying. His hand suddenly reaches for hers and Katniss starts. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”
They head towards the concession stands in search of Prim; Katniss in the middle, her hands held by both Rue and Peeta.
“You’re only saying that because you’re Prim’s brother,” Katniss says, her gaze avoiding his.
“I shouldn’t be saying that because I’m Prim’s brother.”
++++++
“You have to be quiet!” he demands under his breath. “You’ll make her angry.”
Her wrists and ankles hurt, and Katniss is getting tired of sitting up against the wall of the smelly, dusty house. Why did the lady never clean?
Her eyes wander to the teddy bear, sitting in the corner of the room, caked with dirt and its eye missing. Did that mean that there were other children here?
“I want to go home!” she wails.
“Please Katniss…if you’re quiet, I’ll give you something to eat,” Peeta tells her. She quiets immediately and he offers her a smile. Though his hands are bound, he manages to reach into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a wrapped piece of chocolate. “Here you go.”
She unwraps it quickly before stuffing it into her mouth. “Thank you, Peeta.”
Katniss fails to notice that his own stomach grumbles with hunger.
++++++
Katniss sits up in bed, breathing heavily, as the remnants of the dream swim in her mind.
What was that?
She looks to her wrists and ankles—no marks.
It wasn’t real…the lady with the dark eyes and long, black hair…not real…
Laying back, she tries to close her eyes, but the faint taste of chocolate lingers in her mouth.
++++++
The night is humid and Peeta struggles to keep his body cool underneath the dress shirt he wears.
“Peeta, you should’ve borrowed something from Rye,” Prim tells him good-naturedly as they walk towards the stage. Around them, groups are setting up their picnic blankets for the summer concert that is an annual event in their town. “I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he assures her amusedly. “Am I cramping your style?”
“Of course not!” She entwines their arms. “You’re my very international older brother who my friends are dying to meet.” Her other hand shoots up. “There they are!”
His eyes go to the group of six; the two dark-haired men are obviously the Hawthorne brothers, beside them are two blondes, one tall and statuesque while the other is about Prim’s height with soft waves on her shoulders.
Then there is Katniss; tiny but breathtaking, in a blue knee-length dress.
“Hey guys!” Prim greets the group. “This is my brother Peeta, he just got back home a week ago.” She turns to the Hawthornes. “You know Gale and Vick.”
He shakes their hands and Gale gives him a friendly smile. “It’s been awhile, Peeta.”
Briefly, he remembers that he was in the same grade as Gale before he left. Were they friends before?
“Too long,” Peeta replies before shaking Vick’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Prim told us that you just left Mykonos before heading back,” Vick says in admiration. “You have to tell us all about it and all your other trips!”
“Yes, it can get a little stifling here,” the tall blonde adds, her deep blue eyes set on him. “Madge Undersee.”
“Nice to meet you,” he replies with an easy smile. Then, he goes to the shorter blonde. “Nice to meet you—”
“Delly Cartwright.” She is much more soft-spoken than Madge, her eyes less predatory than Madge’s as well. “Please make yourself comfortable.” She waves her hand to the array of food on their blanket. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“This looks great,” he tells her as he settles down next to Katniss and Prim who are chatting. “Do you cook all of this?”
“I own a café in town with my grandmother,” Delly explains. “I didn’t make the pie, though.” She smiles brightly at the dark-haired sprite next to him. “That was Katniss’ doing.”
Peeta turns to Katniss and she beams at him.
Finally, he can breathe again, the sight of her calming him. “What flavor is it this time?”
“Chocolate.”
She can’t quite meet his eyes after that.
++++++
The concert is a selection of popular 50’s songs covered by a popular local band.
Prim knows Thresh, one of the singers; he is the reason they scored such a great spot by the stage. As the night progresses, Peeta feels himself relax around the group. He tells them about the places he’s visited and finds himself realizing how fond he had been of cobbled stone streets in the small sector of Paris that he lived in for six months.
“What did you do there?” Madge asks. She has moved closer to him while he subtly scoots closer to his sister and Katniss.
“Walked along the Seine…sat at cafes and people-watched…got lost in the Louvre…pretended I was an artist and attempted to sketch…” Madge and Vick look wistful, losing themselves in the romanticism of it all. Delly is amused when he mentioned people watching; she seems to be an intuitive one, someone who would, like himself, find interest in human behavior.
“We all can’t wander around the world,” Gale remarks, his tone slightly envious.
During his time with Prim’s friends, he notices how the older Hawthorne gazes at Katniss longingly. However, Katniss seems focused on Prim, and sometimes, on him.
“True,” he agrees. “Boarding school was great when I was child. I needed the structure but, as I got older, it seemed that I needed to see what was beyond. I was lucky that my parents understood, but they wanted me to find some sort of work. So, I didn’t exactly ask them to help me get around, so I worked where I could.”
“What did you do?” Katniss suddenly asks.
Peeta turns to Katniss, giving her his full attention.
“I did what you do. I baked.” Her mouth widens in surprise and it thrills him to see how her eyes light up at his words. “In Paris, I worked at a boulangerie and baked the whole night. In Amsterdam, I learned how to make stroopwafels and in Spain, it was churros.”
“Then, how the fuck do you have abs?” Madge demands to know, and the group laughs. “Seriously, I can’t eat a piece of cake without my ass jiggling!”
“It’s the Mellark metabolism,” Katniss suggests. “I mean, look at Prim! She can eat and eat and look at her!”
“But the Mellark metabolism doesn’t seem work in my favor when it comes to alcohol,” Prim tells them, her eyes hazy. “I need some water.” She tries to get up but fails spectacularly. “Just give me a second…”
Katniss stands. “I’ll go grab some bottles.”
“Let me help,” he offers. Katniss doesn’t say a word, only nodding to the group before heading to the concession stands towards the back of their field. She is silent as they walk through the congested space, and he finds himself taking her hand once again. “The pie was really good.”
Katniss doesn’t pull away, though her eyes remain ahead. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“You should do it professionally,” he says.
Katniss finally turns to him.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to learn other baking techniques.” She smiles softly. “It’s a bit of a dream of mine to open a bakery here.”
“Oh yeah?” She nods bashfully. “I think you’d be great at it.”
“I don’t have much experience with other baked goods, so that might be an issue,” Katniss says as they reach the concession stand. “Seven waters, please.”
Peeta goes to his back pocket, pulling out a ten and handing it to the cashier.
“How about going to culinary school?” he suggests.
The cashier has been nice enough to given carriers for the bottles. Katniss insists on taking one, so he grabs the other, not letting go of her hand. As they move towards the stage, he finds his senses heightened as the crowd closes in.
He lets go of her hand, winding his arm around her shoulders instead and pulling her to his side.
“To answer your question; school requires money, which I don’t have,” Katniss replies as they move closer to the group.
“I can give it to you,” he offers suddenly.
Katniss stops just short of Prim and the others, her eyes curious. The group watches their exchange in apt interest.
“Why would you do that?”
Peeta shrugs. “Because…”
Because I want to take care of you.
He didn’t know where the errant thought came from.
However, his mind travels to a dusty room…a young girl with two dark braids…and his last piece of chocolate…
“Do you want to dance?” Katniss abruptly offers.
“What?”
She takes the carrier from his grasp and puts it on the ground along with hers, before holding out her hand.
“I don’t know how,” he admits anxiously.
“I’ll teach you.” Katniss reaches for his arm to wrap it around her waist before taking his other hand in hers. “There.” She smiles encouragingly. “All you have to do is move.”
 “Only you can make all this world seem right
Only you can make the darkness bright
Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do…”
 Katniss is a tiny one, her head just hitting his chest. He longs for her to rest it against him so that he can wrap his arms around her…protect her.
From what, he doesn’t know.
All Peeta knows is that this is where she was meant to be—in his arms, safe and sound.
His eyes spare a glance at the group’s reactions; Prim watches them through her buzzed eyes, a grin on her beer-laced lips, Delly with a gentle understanding, Vick with amusement at Katniss’ impromptu suggestion, Madge with envy, and Gale with resentment.
What they think means nothing to him, especially when Katniss rests her head against him.
 “When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do
You're my dream come true, my one and only you…”
 ++++++
She tells him to call her Mother.
Katniss lays on his lap, exhaustion taking over as it gets closer to sunrise, and his nth day in this dilapidated room. Peeled yellow wallpaper hangs down the stained walls. There id no furniture, but there are cobwebs…so many cobwebs.
“Wake her up,” the woman commands. “We’re going soon.”
She smiles at him, revealing perfect white teeth. The woman is beautiful; creamy white skin and perfectly made up with her lined eyes and ruby red lips.
The look in her eyes, however, is unhinged.
“Is Father coming soon?” he asks.
She often speaks of “Father” who is supposed to be coming home from a business trip. Father who expected nothing but beautiful, obedient children.
Silent children who never spoke if they heard people walk by the house.
The woman’s eyes blaze, and she makes a grab for his chin, squeezing it between her index finger and thumb painfully.
“He’s not coming!” She screams at him. “Are you a fool? He did not want me! He made me kill my baby!”
Peeta whimpers as she reaches behind with her free hand to reveal a rope.
She places it to Katniss’ neck, and he prays that Katniss doesn’t wake—her cries would only agitate the woman.
“Such a pretty girl with such lovely hair,” the woman whispers. “Do you think her family would miss her? Would they cry for her? Would they mourn her?” She touches Katniss’ braid so softly before reaching into the pocket of her coat to take out a pair of scissors. “Or do you think that they would just forget her? Like I was forgotten…”
“DON’T! PLEASE!” he sobs. “I promise we won’t say anything! I will be quiet forever! No one will ever know! I promise! Please mother! PLEASE!”
Please God…someone…anyone…please keep Katniss from waking…keep her safe…
“Don’t cry.” The woman’s voice is suddenly gentle, and her hand reaches to touch his head tenderly. He looks up, eyes full of tears and snot dripping from his nose. Her gaze is resigned and sad, the hand holding the rope against Katniss pulling back. “There now. You’re a good boy, Peeta. You stayed with me till the end.”
She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he can see her tears against the dust of the floor.
Peeta stares at the ground, his eyes focusing on her red heels as she stands to walk out of the room—rope in her grasp.
“Goodbye Peeta.”
His eyes shoot up.
“Don’t go! Please don’t do this! Don’t leave us…MOTHER!”
++++++
Peeta rushed out to the back porch, breaths heaving as his whole body shakes.
He walks down to the grass of his backyard, vomiting his dinner all over his mother’s green grass before falling to his knees, sobbing hysterically and lost in the dazed memory of the woman’s final goodbye.
There is the bang of the back door and Peeta suddenly feels his father’s strong arms encircling him.
He rocks Peeta against him. “You’re home now. You’re safe…”
Peeta’s mother joins them, the scent of freesias solidifying her warm presence and his breathing begins to level.
“Go ahead and cry, love,” she urges “Get it out…”
They sit there in that vomit-wet grass until his legs feel strong enough to stand. Prim is at the open doorway, her blue eyes damp as their parents walk him up the steps.
His eyes suddenly drift to the porch next door.
Her grey eyes are deep with worry.
His dream-laden mind calls out to her:
Please Katniss…please stay asleep…
++++++
“Who really likes to go hiking?” Madge asks as they stand outside of the archway that leads them into the park.
“I don’t mind,” Delly says as she puts her backpack on.
“It’s good for you,” Gale cajoles Madge. “Separates the weak from the strong.”
“I’m self-admittedly weak,” Madge retorts.
“You’re so fit,” Katniss tells her admirably. She stands next to Peeta and Prim in a pair of leggings and a green hunting jacket. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You’re too sweet, Katniss.” Madge puts an arm around her shoulders as they all walk underneath the archway and towards the trail. “This is why you’re my favorite.”
“Hey!” Vick calls out to her. “What about me?”
Madge goes to him, batting her lashes. “You’re my favorite boy.”
Peeta and Prim follow behind, his sister’s concerned gaze on him.
He finally turns to her. “I’m alright, Prim.”
“Are you?”
“These things happen,” Peeta assures her. “I’m having them much less than I used to.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better at all,” his sister retorts. “How do I know that you’re not going to up and leave again?”
“Because no matter where I go, whatever this is will always be in me,” he tells her bluntly. “At least here, I’m not alone.”
Prim bites her lip and he knows that she wants to say something.
Instead, she nods and Peeta draws her into a hug.
“Go on and join your friends,” he tells her. “I prefer a slower walk.”
She squeezes his hand before heading to their group.
“I prefer a slower walk, too.”
Katniss is at his side.
Peeta takes her hand, lacing their fingers together.
She stares up at him, chest rising rapidly, and cheeks pink.
“There’s no crowd for me to get lost in.”
“I know.”
++++++
“Do you want to tell me what last week was about?”
Peeta turns to the woman curled up next to him on the bench. “We’re going to get right to it?”
“Yes,” Katniss replies bluntly. “I remember you when we were children—”
He looks to her in surprise. “You do?”
“You used to come into our class to pick up Prim,” she explains. “And, you always looked larger than life to me.”
He brushes his finger against her cheek affectionately. “I think everyone is larger than life to you, little.”
“Maybe it’s because your family is so rich and you live in this beautiful house,” she explains. “And, I lived in low-income housing where there were no backyards or flowers or even working locks on our doors.”
It explains how Katniss had found herself trapped with him. Did the woman take her from her bed? Or somehow persuade Katniss to come with her?
“That night, you looked so small,” Katniss tells him, her voice soft. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“I have nightmares,” he tells her and she seems to recoil into herself. “A long time ago, something very bad happened to me.”
“What?” Katniss inches closer, her hand reaching to touch his wrist. He hisses instinctively. “Did I hurt you?” She pulls back the sleeve of his shirt and gasps. “Peeta, what is this?”
The scars from the cable ties are nothing but an inch of pink skin, but against his tanned skin, they stand out starkly. Katniss traces her finger along the scar, and he forces himself to breathe, to quell the feeling of sickness down as the memories rise to the surface.
“An accident,” he forces out.
“Is this why you left?” Peeta nods. “It must have been a bad accident if no one in your family will talk about it.”
“Do you remember anything about me—beside what you’ve told me?” he asks nervously.
“Not really.” Katniss gives him a smile. “Should I?”
“No, not really.” Peeta is relieved at her words. Standing up, he offers his hand and Katniss takes it willingly, almost eagerly. “We better go find everyone.”
He hates to leave their bench with its little wooden thatch roof.
“You ready?”
Gathering her backpack, Katniss stands to join him. “Ye—AHH!”
She turns, falling against him, and gasping as if something is choking the life out of her.
“Katniss, what’s wrong?” His eyes go to where she sat, and he finds a web along at the corner of the thatch. He quickly swipes it away before turning to the cowering girl, rocking back and forth on the ground. “You’re afraid of spiders.”
It isn’t a question.
She is afraid of spiders because of him.
++++++
It has been quiet too long.
There had been only one sound—a chair dropping. He remembers seeing the small wooden stool as the woman brought him into the house. Guiding Katniss off his lap, Peeta rolls onto his belly. The cable ties keep him from getting to his feet or pushing himself up, so he decides to slither into the other room.
Peeta knows what he was likely to find, and he doesn’t want to see. Slithering towards the room, he breathes a sigh of relief seeing the scissors on the floor, next to the woman’s shoes.
“Don’t look up…” He can hear the creaks of the beam. “Don’t look up—”
“Peeta, what are you doing?” Katniss cries out.
“Don’t look in here!” he screams; he knows he sounds mean, but he can’t let her see.
So close…Peeta stretches with all might, taking the scissors with his pinky finger—
“Peeta, what’s in there?” Peeta looks over his shoulder to see Katniss twisting to look through the open doorway.
“A SPIDER!” He pushes back, trying not to think about the dangling feet above him. “Just don’t look, Katniss!”
“I hate spiders!” she wails, bursting into sobs as he makes his way back towards the room on his belly. “I want to go home…”
“We’re going home.” He takes the scissors in his grasp, using it to free his bloodied ankles before cutting her wrist binds free. “Help cut these ties Katniss.”
Katniss frees him easily and he goes to work on the cable ties on her ankles.
Carefully, he stands, slightly dizzy from having been in the same position for God knows how long.
“Take my hand,” Peeta tells the young girl. “We need to get out of here.”
++++++
“Is something going between you and my brother?” Prim asks as they walk into the auditorium.
Katniss turns to her best friend uneasily. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Because you two hold hands,” her best friend replies with a sly grin. “Not like I’m against you two getting together. I love you both like crazy.”
“He worries about me getting lost in crowds,” Katniss reasons. “I’m so short and all.”
“Peeta is just trying to be chivalrous,” Prim tells her. “You’re part of the family. Not surprised that he’d want to protect you.”
Her chest warms at the thought.
As much as Katniss tries to deny it, she is very much attracted to Peeta. She loses herself often in his ocean eyes and the need to hold him…protect him overwhelms her senses.
It is so not like her to act like this around a boy.
However, that treacherous voice inside tells her that Peeta is not a boy, but a man—and maybe that’s what she needs.
“Here are our seats,” Prim calls out, pulling her away from thoughts of how Peeta’s hair always looks so soft to touch. “I can’t believe Madge is in a fashion show.”
It is a local show for a department store two towns away. Madge has invited them as well as Delly to come check it out.
“I can,” Katniss replies as they sit down. “She has legs for days!”
The show begins promptly five minutes later, just as Delly slips into her seat. “What did I miss?”
“Madge hasn’t come out,” Prim tells her. “So far, so good. What do you think Katniss?”
Katniss isn’t listening, her eyes on the model heading down the runway.
Long dark hair…red lips…trench coast…strutting towards her.
She was coming to take her back!
Her face grows cold and she can hear the sound of blood rushing down her head.
Then, everything fades to black.
++++++
Mommy says that Daddy is too sick to come home.
Katniss went to bed angry. She would see Daddy; it had been so many days since they’ve played outside at the park. Her favorite is when Daddy pushes her on the swings, and she just pumps her legs to go higher as the sun shines in her face and the wind plays with her…
She would go see Daddy in the big building and help him get better.
Walking past Mommy’s bedroom, she looks in and finds her in deep sleep. It is easy to get out of the house. Sometimes the lock doesn’t work, and they would put a chair against the knob.
Tonight, Mommy forgot to do that.
Outside it is quiet, but the moon is bright and big. She looks around trying to remember which way to the hospital.
“What are you doing out?”
Katniss turns to see a beautiful woman with long black hair and dark eyes like her. She wears red lipstick like her Mommy used to when her and Daddy went on dates. Her long coat even looked like the one her Mommy wore during those dates!
“I’m going to the hospital to visit my Daddy,” she tells the lady. “What’s your name?”
The woman doesn’t tell her. “I’m going to the hospital, too. Would you like to come?”
She holds her hand out to Katniss and the light of the moon shows scars against her wrist.
Katniss is happy. Maybe it won’t take all night to see Daddy!
So, she takes the woman’s hand.
When they arrive at the broken house and her eyes go to the boy sitting in the corner, Katniss knows that she will be in so much trouble with Mommy.
++++++
Peeta rushes down the long corridor, his family hurrying behind him. He had been with his parents at Rye and Cashmere’s house when they got the phone call from a sobbing Prim telling them that Katniss was in the hospital.
Rye volunteered to drive him along with their parents to the hospital, fearing that Peeta was not in the right state of mind to get himself there in one piece. The whole time, his anxious mind goes from one scenario to another and he could feel his scars begins to itch and burn.
His brother stopped him from breaking skin, one hand on the wheel and the other on his hand.
“She will be alright,” Rye assured him, sadness in his blue eyes.
Now they were all looking for the right hallway, making another turn and relieved to see Prim leaning against the wall.
“Prim!” he calls out and his sister run straight into his arms.
“It was horrible! One minute she was sitting there and the next she was sinking to the floor…” Prim pulls away, her face streaked with tears. “They think she went into some sort of shock.”
“What are they doing for her?” Peeta asks. “Should we call her parents?”
“They’re already with her,” Prim informs them before looking to him. “She’s asking for you. It was the first thing she said as soon as she opened her eyes.”
Peeta is already opening the door.
In the room, a woman with golden hair and man with Rue’s dark eyes sit by the bed. Their eyes widen as he bursts into the room.
However, his eyes are focused on the woman sitting up in the bed, face grey and her eyes haunted.
“Peeta…” Katniss turns to him, anguish in her gaze. “I remember.”
He immediately goes to her, moving the siderail then wrapping his arms around her waist.
His head falls to her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong, and her hand goes to his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
“Don’t be.” Katniss caresses his locks tenderly. “I wasn’t afraid…because you were with me.”
++++++
“How long were you there?” she asks when they are finally alone.
His parents and Rye have taken Katniss’ parents as well as Prim out to lunch. Katniss’ doctor assures them that she is not in any imminent danger, but they are running some customary tests before releasing her.
“A few days. At least, I think. I lost count at some point, and I never really wanted to ask my parents about what was on the official police reports.” He takes her hand sandwiching it between his own. “I don’t even know her name or anything about her. I don’t want to.”
Katniss nods in agreement.
“I understand.” Their eyes meet. “What I don’t understand is—how could I forget all of this?”
“You were five.” He caresses her face gently, trying to remove the distress off it. “You were in that house for a few hours. A child could easily mistake what happened as a dream.”
“Or a nightmare,” Katniss replies quietly. “For you, it was.” She whimpers suddenly, her eyes growing wet. “The spider—”
“It was her,” he admits quietly. “I couldn’t let you see. You told me about your Dad; how he was sick in the hospital and I knew he was probably going to die. I couldn’t let what she did be your first experience with death. You wouldn’t have understood. At least with your father, his death would be mourned and eventually the pain would be healed. You would have never healed if you saw her.”
“But you saw her.”
“Only for a little bit,” Peeta says as he closes his eyes. “I could still hear the creak of the beams…feel the brush of air as her feet dangled—” He breathes out shakily. “For years, nightmares plagued me of that day. I couldn’t function; I couldn’t focus in fear that she would somehow come back. I knew she was dead, but when I closed my eyes, she was still standing before me.”
“Oh Peeta…” She looks so desperately sad for him. “You were only a boy and you took it all on yourself.”
“I wanted to keep you innocent.” Peeta’s thumb moves along her cheek, swiping away an escaped tear. “You reminded me that there was hope and good out there. I focused on you and you alone, promising myself that you would get out of there—even if I didn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” she cries. “I would have stayed with you. No one would’ve taken care of me the way you did.”
“I’m always going to protect you.” He reaches for her and Katniss falls into his arms. She belongs there. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to find you again.”
“You’re mine now,” she says against his chest. “You told me that I had to get older to find someone to love and marry.”
Peeta chuckles. “And, you told me that you would get older, but you would still love me and marry me.”
He knows that her promise stands true, strong and resilient.
Like them.
++++++
Time passes.
Katniss is released from the hospital and she returns home. Peeta remains at his parents, planning on eventually finding his own place in town. The fact that Katniss lives next door is the contributing factor for him choosing to stay in his childhood bedroom.
Eventually, he and Katniss gather their family together and tell them about their time with the woman; how the woman lured him away by asking him to help her with her luggage and offered him a drink which he had foolishly accepted. How he awoke to find himself bound. How she insisted that he and Katniss refer to her as Mother.
Their own mothers wept at the admission.
Katniss explains how she discovered a way out of her childhood home; how the woman told her that she would take her to see her father in the hospital. She described her first memory of Peeta, how he had offered her his last piece of food—he didn’t tell her until then that it had been days since he ate.
They feel horrible when Prim gets physically sick when they tell them of that dark day.
How the woman yelled over being heart broken and killing her baby, how she placed the rope against a sleeping Katniss, how Peeta begged her…promised to keep silent…
“I kept that promise until now,” he tells their families. “But, I can’t anymore. Not if I want to move forward…if we want to move forward.”
His eyes go to Katniss, beautiful and pure, her grey eyes shining at him.
He continues, explaining how something had broken the woman. How, in those last minutes, she was kind and gentle to Peeta. How she had thanked him for being there till the end.
Prim runs out of the room at that point; Katniss follows to make sure she is alright as she retches in the downstairs bathroom.
When they return, Prim is pale and her eyes blood-shot, but she asks them to continue.
Katniss talks about waking up to see Peeta crawling on his belly into the other room—and how he had told her to not look. How there was a spider in the room and how she cried in fear—the arachnophobia still exists, though she knows now that she associates spiders with the woman.
Peeta tells them of crawling into the room to get the scissors, how he told himself to not look up at the woman—Rye had wept at his words. He speaks of cutting them out of their bounds—cable ties still bring him to a state of panic—and how he instructed Katniss to close her eyes tightly as they walked out of the house.
“He brought me home,” she tells her parents. Rue had been left with a sitter. She is still too young to understand. In time, Katniss and Peeta will sit her down and tell her their story. “I don’t know how I managed to remember my address, but I did.”
“I went to the police station,” Peeta continues. “I barely made it passed the entrance before fainting.”
The story of the Mellark kidnapping had been kept under wraps by high-powered lawyers threatening to sue anyone who leaked the story.
Peeta recovered but suffered from PTSD and anxiety, barely able to make through school. Eventually seeing how it had put such a strain on his family, he asked to leave—as far away as possible.
“We never wanted you to leave,” his mother tells him. “Your father and I argued over whether it was the best thing, but your psychiatrist agreed that maybe you needed time away—a more structured environment where there were no abrupt changes to your daily life.”
“It was for the best,” Peeta insists before looking to his parents. “I want to tell you how grateful I am to have you as my parents. You never pushed me to just get better, and you were patient when I was hard to love. You let me go even though I know it was the hardest thing in the world and you let me find my way back home.”
“We love you,” his father tells him gruffly. “We wouldn’t change a thing about you—not a single hair on your head—and we’ve felt that way since the day you were born to now.”
When it is over, emotionally drained, they all stand to leave.
Katniss’ mother Iris goes to him.
“Thank you for saving Katniss.” Her eyes are filled with tears. “From her father and I, we are eternally grateful.”
“No need to be thank me,” Peeta replies. “Katniss, in so many ways, saved me.”
+++++++
Six months later, Peeta moves into his own place.
It is a modest apartment above a pizza parlor in the main part of their town. His mother overzealously decorates his one bedroom, one bathroom abode with calming blues and greens. His father shows up a week after he moves in with two flatscreen televisions for his bedroom and living room while Rye, who is a technician, sets-up his internet for the new laptop that he gives Peeta as a housewarming gift.
Prim often comes to visit with their friends. Fridays eventually become ‘Dinners at Peeta’s house’ nights and the group invades his home; Delly takes over his kitchen while Katniss brings over whatever dessert she is experimenting with.
And at the end, once the food is eaten and the dishes washed, one person remains—Katniss.
They watch television in his living room and then eventually on his bed until they fall asleep.
Peeta still experiences nightmares at times. However, it is better when he wakes from them with Katniss in his arms.
She never pushes him, and he does the same. They know eventually they will talk about whatever they are going through. It is not in their nature to not share with each other; they know too much about one another already.
++++++
It takes them three times to actually kiss.
The first as they sit on his porch one month after her hospital release. It is raining and they sit out watching, enjoying the sound and the smell of wet grass. Katniss looks spectacularly beautiful, her grey eyes peaceful, and though it is cool, he can feel the low fire in his belly at the sight of her.
Their eyes meet and he pulls her close.
As he closes his eyes, the woman’s face flashes in his mind and he abruptly pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” he pants out.
Katniss is, of course, hurt. She stands up and walks back into his house to collect her things to go home.
However, when the night comes, he finds himself awakened by Katniss slipping into his bed.
Her head goes to his chest and her hand to his heart. “I understand.”
They are still plagued by those irrational fears, Katniss still goes numb at spiders or cobwebs and sometimes the woman’s face pops up to remind them that there are horrors in life.
Katniss always reminds him that there is hope.
He covers her hand with his. “Thank you.”
++++++
The second time comes a month after he’s moved into his apartment.
He wakes up to Katniss thrashing in bed, sheets tangling in her struggle.
“Spider…go away! Cobwebs…cobwebs…too many…”
“Katniss—” She shoots up, scratching at the air and sobbing. “—what happened?”
“Peeta…” Her head falls against him and gathers her close, pulling her onto his lap. “I was trapped! She was the spider and you were on other side of the web—I couldn’t get to you! There were too many cobwebs.” Katniss meets his eyes, her own glittering with tears. “She killed you Peeta. She killed you and I couldn’t do anything but watch…”
“It was just a dream,” he reassures her, rocking her in his arms. “It isn’t real.”
“Sometimes I don’t know what is real and not real,” she whispers against him tiredly.
“We are real.” Katniss lifts her head to meet his eyes and he smiles tenderly at her. “You and me. We’re always going to be. I can’t offer anything else to you, Katniss, broken man that I am, except my promise to love you forever.”
Her hand reaches to cup his cheek.
“I love you, too.” The faint heat returns and Peeta feels the needy burn to kiss her. Katniss presses herself against him and he knows she feels it too—this hunger beginning to grow. “Please Peeta.”
The fire flares.
“Not now,” he tells her tightly…reluctantly. “Not after you’ve had this nightmare.”
Katniss understands, breathing out. “Then just stay here.”
Always.
++++++
A year later, they go to Paris.
They rent the small apartment that he used to live in. Peeta takes her to the boulangerie where he used to work so the owners, Monsieur Latier and his wife Wiress, can coo over his ‘petite amie’ and then teach her how to properly make baguettes and croissants to her heart’s content.
He begins to draw again; small sketches in a journal that he plans to give Katniss after their trip is over. His favorite drawings are of Katniss…smiling as she watches the sunset out of their window…walking the cobbled streets in her dark green hunting jacket…staring at him with those dark, hungry as she lays in their bed without a stitch on…
Their last night in Paris, Peeta presents her with the journal, complete with daily writings of his thoughts, photographs, recipes from Monsieur and Madame Latier, sketches of her. She wept seeing all the work that had gone into it.
“I want to make great memories with you,” he simply tells her.
They makes themselves a simple dinner, a bottle of red wine accompanying it. Then, they watch the sunset from their open window, Katniss perches between his legs and her head rests back on his chest. He weaves his arms around her, pulling her close, and she hums her contentment.
“This feels like home,” she says happily.
Peeta presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You are home.”
There is a sudden shift in the air, and he finds Katniss facing him, her fingers reaching to cradle his chin and his breath catches at the sensation. Her gaze goes to his lips and the hunger returns, desperate and calling out to her.
“Please Katniss,” he finds himself saying.
She smiles and leans forward, pressing her mouth to his.
Fire.
After as they lay together, sated after another kind of joining, Peeta gazes down at the Katniss, peppering kisses against her chin, savoring her taste, and thanking God for every moment they have now and whatever is beyond that.
“Marry me,” he whispers.
“Yes,” she replies, smiling up at him. “Even though I asked you first.”
And for the rest of the night, they are no words and there are no nightmares.
++++++
Now, there is another dark-haired girl with two long braids, and another blond boy. The girl’s eyes are his deep blues, while the boy, still learning to walk, has inherited his mother’s lovely greys.
Peeta watches them play in the backyard of the bakery that had once been a pipe dream of Katniss’. He bought the property below his old apartment as an anniversary present—enthusiasm in her thank you led to the conception of their daughter in its kitchen.
They are moderately wealthy, business is steady, and they are happy most of the time. Some days they struggle with nightmares or terrors, but in the end, they hold onto one another and it makes them stronger.
His wife joins him on the steps of their porch.
Immediately, his hand reaches for hers.
Peeta takes a deep breath and closes his eyes without fear, enjoying the sweet scent of Katniss and the sound of their children playing.
FIN. 
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years
Text
Sick Little Games: Three
A.C.
Natasha Romanoff sat at the counter sipping coffee and tried to think of where you might have gone. Unfortunately, you could be literally anywhere. She wanted to tell herself that she wasn’t disappointed, or worse, hurt that you didn’t say goodbye before you left. But then, you hated goodbyes. And it wasn’t personal. When you got the urge to go, sometimes you just needed to go. 
“What’s the matter, Eeyore, lost your tail?” Clint asked, helping himself to a mug of coffee and a pastry.
The spy huffed a laugh and sighed, “Just worried about Y/N, I guess. There are some pieces from the last few weeks that don’t set right.”
Clint nodded, “I know,” he said, “For a second, I thought she had a crush on someone, but... I don’t know.”
“A crush on someone?” Natasha asked, “And we never talked about it?”
Clint smiled a little, “It might have been a little wishful thinking,” he admitted. The redhead smiled a little, “Clint,” she started. But he held up a hand.
“I knew it was a long shot. I mean. By the time I realized I had liked her, she was already gearing up to run off for a while.”
“How long have you liked her?”
“Pretty much from the minute she handed me a plate of pizza and introduced herself... but I figured she was out of my league.” He sipped his coffee, and the redhead rested her head on his shoulder.
“She’ll be back,” Natasha said, bracingly.
“I know,” Clint said, “And I’m not gonna lie. I hope she comes back soon.”
___________________
B.C.
“Do I have to go to this thing?” You grouse, tugging the skirt of your dress down. 
“It’s just a press event, Y/N,” Steve said, straightening his cuff, “And you’re an Avenger. The whole team is going.”
“Yeah, but no one knows who I am, so like... If I don’t go will anyone notic-” you trail off as Clint walks through the door in jeans and a hoodie, “Oh come on,” you groan, “How come Clint gets to wear jeans and I have to wear a dress?”
“You have nicer legs,” Nat said, linking her arm through yours and half dragging you to a car.
“I want my objections noted,” you huff.
“Noted and ignored,” Tony said, sliding into the limo across from you, smirking when you pout. “Y/N,” he said, “It’ll be fine. Just don’t hex anyone and don’t  wander too far down a rabbit hole when you answer questions.”
“And then, when someone tries to kidnap me and burn me at the stake after my face has been all over the news?”
“Kill them,” Natasha said practically.
“Is that still a going concern?” Tony asked, “Should we tell security to turn away and monks with pitchforks?”
You shrug. Trying not to think of the last guy you’d tried to date. The one that had grabbed you by the hair and half dragged half threw you onto a pile of kindling. It had been horrifying. You’d been really in love. Really. Really in love. And he’d just wanted you dead.
When you look out the window to avoid looking at either of them, Tony and Nat trade looks. 
They know you. And they know when you’re hiding something. Everyone does. Natasha is fond of saying that you’re a great Witch, but you’d make a lousy spy. Feelings aren't something you can easily conceal. Not usually. 
“Y/N,” Tony started carefully.
“I’m not talking about it,” you say, not looking away from the window. You’d met him at a press event. He’d given you a drink of water and hadn’t treated you like part of the three-ring circus. 
Natasha kissed your cheek, “I wasn’t going to ask.”
“I was,” Tony interrupted, “What the fuck?”
“It’s a long story. Suffice to say, I’m still alive despite the bumbling efforts of a would-be witch hunter.”
“Those are still a thing?” Tony shouted, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
You shrug, “What good would it have done?”
Tony scowled at you, and you could see him gearing up for interrogation and a dad lecture. Six years and he still struggled with your perpetual babyface. Everyone did. You looked young, and thus, they tended to treat you as the team baby, Thankfully, the limo stopped, and the doors opened. Tony stepped out and then Natasha, leaving you a second to breathe and get ready for the onslaught. Only the really obsessive fans knew who you were. Only the most religious media outlets even paid you any mind. The WITCH, the godless, immoral, child-snatching witch. Still, you smiled vaguely and nodded, in the back of your mind wandering your Mother’s garden. The smell of herbs and the sound of cicadas making the world foggy around the edges. Blunting the chaos.
No one at the luncheon was interested in you, thankfully. It made it easier for you to slip away. To hide. You’d snatched a glass of champagne and found a little shaded bench to sit on. Somewhere tucked by a potted plant and a column. It made you hard to spot. For most people. 
Not Bucky, though. Bucky had been watching you. You looked uncomfortable in your tight little dress and heels. Eyes and lips painted. Hair pulled into a tight, uncomfortable-looking bun in an attempt to stop the talking heads from insisting you were too young to be an Avenger. Again. Bucky saw you, tucking yourself away. Hiding. And he got an idea. A brilliant idea. There was a woman. Some model or other that had been shooting him looks all afternoon. And she. Amber or whatever. She was a dream. Built and stacked in such a way that she was everything he’d dreamed of when he first put on his dress uniform. The kind of dame he could happily spend a couple breathless hours with... As long as she didn’t try to talk too much. He didn’t really know what was so important about “followers” or why it mattered that her handbag cost $1000, but... he figured he could keep her busy. Or at least keep her mouth full if they went out.
It didn’t take much to talk her out to the balcony. Out where you could hear the things he had to say. Where he could show you the type of woman, he was really interested in. He boxed you in. You couldn’t go without giving away your position. You couldn’t do anything but sit and listen to him romancing another girl. Watch him act out some of your pretty little daydreams with someone else. Those pretty little pastel thoughts he knew that some kind of girls held in their chest. All those secret hopes. As his lips trailed over Amber’s throat, the scruff of his beard making her giggle (a chattering sound that reminded him of some weird species of lemur), he idly wondered if you’d named the kids you probably wanted to have with him. He scoffed to himself. You probably still thought a white picket fence was possible. With anyone. 
He could hear the hurt as he propositioned the woman to drop by later for a “tour” of the compound. He could practically hear your heart crack as your heart rate sped up, and you struggled to breathe as you choked back tears. He felt, for a second, as Amber sashayed back inside, a niggling, sense of wrongdoing. But he squished it down with the heel of his boot as he ground out the cigarette Amber had carelessly discarded. 
He wandered back inside and ignored the sound of a soft whimper and the rustle of fabric as you scrambled to look through your bag for a tissue. His plan was going well. 
That was good.
It would be a pity if you had some weird kink that he’d just fed into. Things might have to get drastic then.
________________
A. C.
You wandered out to the porch and sipped from the mug in your hand. It was a homebrew tea. A blend from the garden and... it was sad. Yours never tasted as good as your mom's. At least. The way they tasted before. Before your stepdad had swooped in and infected her with his specific brand of Zealot Rage. Until you’d been tossed out to keep you from contaminating the “Normal” kids. 
The little siblings that had been told you died.
When that thought made your eyes burn, you pushed it aside and shoved it into the dark recesses of your mind where you shoved everything you didn’t want to think about. Your family. Bucky... especially Bucky. 
Fuck him. 
All he’d had to do was tell you that he was interested. But no. Oh no. He’d toyed with you. Like an Orca with a fucking baby seal. The bastard. 
“Fuck!” you drop the mug you’re holding and jump back from the puddle of broken ceramics and scalding tea.  You stare at the pool spreading across the weathered wood and sigh. “Fuck,” you say, quieter this time. You really are the reason you can’t have nice things.
Tags: :@lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm
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supernaturaltfwmeme · 4 years
Text
Between the lines. Part 9
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Summary:The reader is at Stanford with Sam and a few other familiar faces. She gets introduced to Dean, an FBI agent for help with a paper. The two grow even closer when Dean learns about her daughter and her troublesome situation. Check out the other parts here.
Pairing: Dean x reader.
Warnings: Language, Domestic abuse.
A/N: tags open! sorry this part took so long guys, I've been extremely busy. Also thanks again to @waywardaardvark79​ for being a personal cheerleader again or else i probably wouldn’t of even started this.
When you woke up the next morning your head felt much better. You couldn’t hear any noise in the house, so you decided to go and make breakfast. You crept downstairs and settled on making bacon and eggs since that’s all Dean seemed to have in his fridge other than beer. When you finished you plated it up and went to put it on the table when you jumped, nearly dropping the plate in your hand. Dean was stood leaning in the doorway.
“Jesus Dee, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”  
“Sorry about that sweetheart. You didn’t have to make breakfast you know.”
“I know but you’re doing me a favour since I you basically had to drop everything to keep an eye on me, it’s the least I could do.”
“Hey it’s no bother honestly I'm of work until after Christmas now anyway.”  Dean smiled at you sitting down at the table. Before you could reply Amelia came rushing in. That child had impeccable timing.  
“So Amelia.” You said as you were all about half way through eating breakfast.
“Yes mommy.” The little girl replied with a mouth full of bacon.
“You know how tomorrow is Christmas eve?”
“Yes!” Amelia replied, more than a little excited.
“Well how would you feel about spending Christmas with Sam and Deans family?” You were nervous to ask but it was now or never.
“No we can’t.” She complained. You didn’t miss the look of disappointment on Deans face.
“Why not baby?” You pressed.
“Because Santa won’t know where to deliver my presents.” Amelia said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making you and Dean chuckle.
“Yes, he will Ame, Santa always knows. He’s magic remember.” Dean explained.
“Ok then.” Amelia simply said, swinging her legs under the table. “Will there be other kids?” You looked at Dean for his answer.
“Claire will be there.” You gave him a puzzled look. Why would his partners kid be there?
“Me and Sammy practically grew up with Cas. And Charlie. There was hardly a day when those two weren’t in my Parents' house. Especially when Charlies parents had the accident, she moved in, didn’t leave till she went to college. And Cas’ home life wasn’t the best so he was around a lot too. And then we all kind of followed each other to California.” Dean explained.
“Oh, I wish I'd grown up with friends like that, it sounds nice.” You said genuinely.  
After breakfast Dean washed up and went to go get dressed you could hear him talking upstairs on the phone but you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. After a few minutes he came back downstairs before pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys.
“Hey, I gotta head out I have some last-minute errands to run, but Charlie is on her way over to hang out with you, I should be back in a few hours. We’re heading down to my Parents house tomorrow so you guys could probably use the time to pack.”
“Ok I'll see you later Dee.”
“Bye Dean.” Amelia waved from where she was sitting on the floor. Probably colouring again.
“Bye Ame.” Dean said before leaving. For a few hours you hung out with Charlie before Dean came home. You mainly just watched cheesy Christmas movies with Amelia.  
“Honey I'm home.” Dean said laughing to himself as he walked through the door. You and Charlie rolled your eyes.
“You wish Winchester.” You joked.
“Maybe I was talking to Charlie.” Dean teased.
“In your Dreams Dee.” Charlie laughed.
“Alright, You girls all packed?”
“Yeh we are.” You answered.
“What about you Bradbury?”
“You know me better than that by now.”  
“Of course you’re not.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you driving down with us or Cas tomorrow?”
“Oh definitely you guys, Jess and moose can go with Cas this year in his pimpmobile.” Charlie and Dean burst out laughing.
“His what now?” You asked.
“You’ll see sweetheart, and Charlie I'm picking you up at nine then, you know how mom gets when were late so you better go pack.”
“Alright, alright I'm going, the last thing I need is Mary on my ass about us being late... Again.” Charlie said her goodbyes before leaving.
The next day you were up bright and early, Dean was already downstairs cooking. You decided to leave Amelia in bed as long as possible. You grabbed your twos bags and headed downstairs.
“Hey Dee can I borrow your car keys?” Dean looked panicked.
“What? why?”
“So I can out the bags in the car.”
“No leave them by the door I got it. You eat.” Dean said passing you a plate before disappearing. He was acting a little suspicious.
“You got any presents you need to put in the car?”
“Yeah a few it’s a big bag on my bed.”
“Jesus y/n/n what you got in here?” Dean asked carrying the bag down the stairs.
“In my defence they’re mostly Amelia’s.” You called from the kitchen. Dean went to put the presents in the car and came back before joining you at the table.
“Where’s Amelia?”
“Left her in bed a bit longer. She’s really not a morning person.” You laughed.
“Can’t say I blame her.”
It was about 8:15 by the time you finished eating and packing everything in the car. You went to wake Amelia up, you got yourself dressed while she ate and then got her dressed before putting her in the car. By 8:45 you were just waiting for Dean to grab whatever he’s run back inside for and you were ready to go. Dean appeared a minute later with pillow and a blanket, passing them to Amelia before climbing inside the car.
“It’s a longish drive I figured she’d want to nap.” He said before starting the car.
Around midday after driving from about 3 hours give or take, Dean turned down a nice-looking street with some pretty big houses, all white picket fence and all that types. Before pulling into the drive of one of the bugger houses on the street, Charlie practically diving out of the car.
“Woah, are your parents rich or something?” You half joked. Dean laughed.
“No, not at all, our childhood home was actually my grandparents' house originally, it just happened to be old enough to be worth something and they wanted a big house since they technically have four kids.” Dean explained.
“Guess they need the room for when you all start having kids.” You joked.
“Something like that.” You got Amelia out of the car and followed Dean and Charlie into the house.
“Dean, Charlie you’re finally here.” A blonde woman said walking out of the kitchen, her shirt covered in flour, giving them both a hug.
“And Dean this must be the friend you said you were bringing.” She said looking at you. Before you could introduce yourself Amelia caught side of the tallest Winchester and bolted towards him.
“UNCLE SAMMY!” She screamed, practically running into him before he scooped her up.
“Maybe more than a friend then.” The blonde woman said looking at Dean and raising an eyebrow. Dena groaned in response.
“Mom! This is Y/n. As in Y/n who’s at Stanford with Sammy and Charlie.”
“Oh, you mean the Y/n from Sam’s birthday party that you didn’t shut up about for weeks.” Said a man appearing next to the blonde woman. Dean blushed.
“Dad. Really?”
“Oh you know you’re father loves to tease you Dean.” the blonde said before turning to you.
“Hi y/n, I'm Mary and this is my husband John.”
“It’s nice to meet you both.”
“And you and hey if you managed to wrap these four.” John gestured to Dean, Sam, Charlie and Cas. “Around your finger, then welcome to the family kiddo.” You couldn’t help but smile
“Ame, Claire’s probably out back on the swing set if you want to go play with her.” Dean told Amelia.
“I told you it was Ame.” Mary muttered to John confusing you.
“What do you mean?” Charlie.
“John was trying to convince me it was pronounced Amy not am e.”
“Blame Charlie she gave her the nickname.” You joked.
“Well Amelia is such a mouth full.” Charlie complained.
“Like you’ve ever had a problem talking Charlene.” Sam called from the other side of the room.
“Shut it Samuel!” You couldn’t help but laugh. This Family was far from conventional, with the Winchesters taking in Cas and Charlie, but it felt more like a real family than you’re biological one ever did. Part of you Wished you’d met them sooner and maybe you would have had somewhere to turn after your family kicked you out. You were very excited to experience a Winchester Christmas.
Tags: @waywardaardvark79​ @vicmc624​ @frackinawesomeninja​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @supernatural508​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bluecornflowers​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @jensensammy @idksupernatural​ @supersassyprobablysad​ @deans-baby-momma​ @satans-0-spawn​ @tearsforhan​ @alphadareme​
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violentmouths · 4 years
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So sorry if I've been acting lazy, I'm just a little blue from this month. But hey, have another insight of the Celebration of Grima's mayor!
I actually wrote this years ago, but won't get away with using this song if I published paperback. So yeah, I love this song very much.
Tagging: @birdgirl69 @clevermentalitybeliever @dhalia111
The celebration in Rabbit Hole was usually at night, all the monsters take torches and place them all over the town, putting straw all over the streets, and once the full moon is out, Grima's mother would run around town gently singing "Go tell Aunt Rhody" but since she no longer performed for the town, another woman did.
Once they heard her singing echo through the streets, they'd runs out of their house behind her and into the street singing. All sang and chanted in the middle of the town where Aunt Rhody waits for us, sitting high in their chair in the town hall. "Go tell Aunt Rhody" they sang, looking at them "Go tell Aunt Rhody" they sang again. The performer stood in front of the other monster citizens, they surrounded her, circling her "Go tell Aunt Rhody, that everybody's. . . Dead" she sings. The monsters slowly walked around her shifting their gaze onto Aunt Rhody and the performer. The performer wore a long black dress with dead purple flowers in her hair, she was a brunette, and her hair was tied in a bun. Her face was painted like skeleton; just like mom did before her lost her beautiful head.
"I was raised in a deep dark hole" the sound of a door creaked open to close "a prisoner, with no parole" the performer sang, her body rolled under her hand on her hip, her body movements made the little monstress want to be like her as well. Her swaying had the spider plant hypnotized, "They locked me up and took my soul" she sang, pressing her hands on her throat "Ashamed of what they made" we whispered, the performer spun on her tip toes.
The circle broke as they spun away from the performer who's name was Molly, she was a witch. Molly raised her arms in the air as the monsters held hands and slowly walked around her some more. "Go tell Aunt Rhody" she sang pointing at a zombie "Go tell Aunt Rhody" she sang again pointing at a skeleton, both the zombie and skeleton danced towards the witch, Groma didn't take her eyes off of them until she had to face away from them. Moving their upper bodies in circles "Go tell Aunt Rhody, that everybody's dead." The witch sang, the many eyed monstress could hear violins being played, the monsters turned around to see her being hoisted up by the zombie and skeleton's shoulders.
Grima prayed she didn't fall.
pointed towards Aunt Rhody before looking at the sky. Another time of walking around them in a cirlce, it was never a square, or a triangle. But then again, circles have no points, and neither did this dance. It was like they all knew what they were doing.
They never practiced! They just knew!
"I call for him and he will come" she sang before putting a hand on her hip again, she continued to point "She'll answer him like he's the one" she sang while leaning back, we flickered  our hands towards our face as we looked at the sky, making 'Ooo' sound as she sang "His arms outstretched but when she's done, he'll be torn apart" some of us broke the circle, we ran and spun and chanted "Go, tell Aunt Rhody, go tell Aunt Rhody, go tell Aunt Rhody" jus then, those who broke out of the circle, got on their hands and knees. The sound of a piano replicated the words 'that every-body's'. A sound of drums took over, the other citizen's who were standing up, ran towards those who were on the ground and jumped over their heads only to get on their hands and knees "Go tell Aunt Rhody" they sang, those who were already on their hands and knees would get up and roll on those on the ground "Go tell Aunt Rhody" they sang as well, adding a clap. "Go tell Aunt Rhody, that everybody's" they sang, standing up, looking at Aunt Rhody.
"Every-body's, every-body's" all the citizen's except for me and the zombies knelt down, not looking at Aunt Rhody, I pulled down my mask, just then you hear,  the most hoarse "dead" come out of our mouths. We were breathing heavily.
A few seconds later, two little voices began to sing "Go tell Aunt Rhody, go tell Aunt Rhody,that everybody's" it was from small children who're holding hands and dancing around in little circles. Everyone stood up and faced Mayor Aunt Rhody as they clapped their hands  "Bravo" they said, continuing to clap "Bravo, that was a lovely  performance!" they shouted, walking towards their citizens. Aunt Rhody was split person down the middle. One side of them was a woman that had kinky curly hair that was tied up, some of the hair was all over the place. The other side was a man, he had a faint cut next to his mouth, his hair was blonde and he had blue eyes while the woman had cinnamon colored eyes, her name was Aunt while his name was Rhody. They wore a long black trench coat with a crisp white, button up shirt. Their pants were black and so was their dress shoes.
They were the nicest mayor you'd ever see or hear about.
"We loved it, such grace and love, we could feel it from up here!" They announced pointing at their chair. Grima pulled up her mask, not taking her eyes off them.
The citizen's do not know who Grima was or who she belonged to. Not even the Mayor.
They knew that Alexandra had Dante, but they didn't know that she had Grima.
She was kind of a secret, because no one asked.
Grima didn't want to stay to hear Aunt Rhody's speech, for it had absolutely nothing to do with her. She held herself as she went home, it was a beautiful night, and the little monstress was enjoying her walk.
Once she got to her street, she looked at the street sign "Somewhere between psychotic and iconic street" Grima read before walking down the street until she reached her home. Grima opened the picket fence door and closed it. She noticed some of the lights were off as she walked onto the porch, the sounds of the wood creaking under her booties reminded her of a house she didn't want to remember. Grima knocked on the door before waiting for someone to open it.
"Who?" A stern voice said behind the door, she knew who it was; Dante.
The little monstress pressed a hand onto the door before looking down at the porch "Dante, it's Grima..." She said in a low voice, the door unlocked and opened, Grima squinted before putting a hand over her eyes. The light from the inside the house almost blinded the young monstress. "Hey Grimms, how was the celebration?" Dante said putting his arms around his little sister, Grima placed her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "It was... Nice." She replied as her brother released her from his grasp, Grima bowed before going up to her room which was in the attic. She walked up the stairs while looking around the house, it was always warm. Grima slowly walked down the hall before aproaching her ladder and climbing up.
Grima Li's room wasn't that special, she had a twin sized bed that was up against the wall when you first climb up. Basically it's the first thing you see when you entered her room. It even had a huge sun roof that had Christmas lights around the edges, her mother always turned them on at night. On the left side of the room was a book shelf filled with books such as;
-Paradise Lost
-Moby Dick
-Gulliver's Travels
- Pride and Prejudice
-Chicken Soup for the Soul
-Lord of the Flies
-South Beach Diet
-Hunt for Red October
-To kill a Mockingbird
- Zen of the art of Motorcycle Maintenance
-Cask of Amontillado
-Call of the Wild
-War of the Worlds
-The Adventures of Huck Finn
-Myth of Sisyphus
-Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
- Clan of the Cave Bear
-Prince and the Pauper
-Waiting for Godoth
-Bridget Jones Diary
-Antony and Cleopatra
-Oliver Twist
-Titus Andronicus
-Hamlet
-Macbeth
She read all of them.
On the right, was her night stand that holds all of my mouth masks, she also had a TV attached to her wall infront of her bed, and had many classic horror movies! She had merchandise from the strange game called Five Nights at Freddy's that her dad bought her while he was away on his businesstrips. There's nothing else to say other than she had a wardrobe filled with clothes and a dresser that holds all of her unused perfumes and scented lotions. That's it!
Grima removed her dress and boots to put on her black pajama pants, she quickly removed her small bra and put on a white spaghetti strapped shirt. The many eyed monstress kicked her clothes across the room before climbing into the bed.
She decided to wash up tomorrow. 
The many eyed monstress looked at the sun roof before removing her mask and placing it onto the night stand. The stars were twinkling, Grima closed her eyes, scrunched up her nose, and crossed her fingers, making a wish; to get out of that town! Grima slowly opened her many eyes, she then clapped her hands as the Christmas lights turned off.
Another awesome night she had with the town.
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blankdblank · 5 years
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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 12
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Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 -
Tags –
All –
@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars
X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress
Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen
“One seems to hear, Words of good cheer. From everywhere, Filling the air.”
All through the town the song seemed to be playing and with bags in hand you joined Richard in the walk through the train station with tickets in hand. The hour long ride was simple enough and thanks to Chris popping up beside you with his reheaded girlfriend you had not had the chance to meet yet you could claim a box for yourselves without having to share with strangers. Or at least in your case unfamiliar strangers. Christmas always seemed to be a bit painful to say the least, when you weren’t able to be with your dad you were either off alone at school or out with the rest of your family wishing your dad was home. But this time with Richard’s hand fixed in yours you hoped it went well enough for you to at least grow comfortable enough with the Armitage clan to be welcomed back again.
Through the windows you watched the city breeze by as the brothers talked and, Trisha, if you had heard Chris right, worked on a book of crossword puzzles under a greatly furrowed brow nearly wearing thin a hole in the page from erasing the same spot so many times. After a disgruntled sigh she grit out, “Strips in Geography class. 6 letter.”
The brothers paused to furrow their brows as you blankly stated, “Isthmi.”
She glanced at you and you spelled it for her earning a pleased hum as she moved onto the next clue only to mumble, “Whirlybird. 9 letters.”
She glanced up catching your smirk that made Chris chuckle and Richard grin at you as you said, “Eggbeater.” She caught your eye as you giggled again adding, “My high school teacher used to make us memorize those hint books for crossword puzzles for extra credit on exams if we could write out full pages word for word.” Chris grinned even wider and you added, “The regular teacher quit, she filled in for the rest of the year. Not as crazy as people said.”
Richard chuckled kissing your forehead as he and Chris went back to chatting while Trisha refocused leaving you to your buzzing phone in your pocket. A glimpse at the screen later you grinned reading Lee’s message of a ‘Merry Christmas. XO.’ And replied the same.
After seeing Dean’s message, ‘Home safe. Enjoy Xmas in the arms of your new gent.’
When you had wished him and his family the best for their own reunion you pocketed your phone and leaned your head against Richard’s arm making him shift his arm to wrap around your shoulders freeing you to snuggle fully at his side in the chilly box.
Finally the station came into view and your bags were claimed with Richard stealing a kiss on your lips when he noticed your flinching glance at the station. “They love you already. It’s not an interview or a test. Just home.”
You nodded and he kissed you again folding his fingers between yours to guide you out to the bustling crowds and out to the waiting row of taxis. One which you squeezed into on Richard’s lap in the back for the ride out of the city to a small suburb nearby to a snow coated home with a decent sized garden in the front surrounded by a quaint picket fence sealing off the path to the holly wreath coated door. 
Instantly the warmth hit you as Richard helped you out of your jacket and hung it up near his as you set your snow dusted shoes on the mat near theirs revealing to any who would notice your dr seuss fuzzy socks your dad had gotten you the year before. The empty seeming home seemed to explode with noise all at once as uncles and cousins came out to drag the brothers through to the sitting room with Trisha bouncing behind them with a grin.
Wetting your lips you peeked through each room until you spotted Margaret in the kitchen cooking alone. Her patterned steps halting when she caught you peeking in to grin wildly and cross the room to fold you into a warm welcoming hug, “Jaqi Dear. They tore Richy away I see.” You nodded and she said, “Would you care for some tea?”
You nodded, “Yes please.” She grinned and moved to ready the kettle and a mug as you eyed the last of the supplies out and asked, “Need some help?” She glanced at you, “I’m fairly good at dicing and peeling.”
She grinned and said, “Sweet potato dish. I can never get it right.”
You chuckled and reached up twisting your curls back into a messy bun with the elastic on your wrist and pulled up the sleeves on your sweater then washed your hands in the sink, “Leave it to me. It’s a staple back home.”
Back at her station she watched as you used a small knife to peel then dice the sweet potatoes you then rinsed and readied for boiling as she asked, “Richard mentioned you might be living here next year?”
You chuckled, “I have the chance to graduate early and it’s a great company. Even my grandparents agreed.”
She nodded peeking at you as you added the last of the slices to the boiling pot, “They do treat you well?”
You grinned at her, “We’re not warm and fuzzy, but they’re trying. I remind them of mom, and it still hurts them, so I try not to push it and deserve all the attention and funds they’ve offered to me.” Her brow rose and you giggled saying, “They’re old fashioned, and Russian, respect and rewards for effort are important. Not many have the chances I have had, and in my mind it would be terrible if my dad had to work so far away and me not put any effort into the schools, lessons, interviews and all of the referrals I get.”
Her smile came back, “Yes, Richy did say you are quite the diligent worker. So much like he is. ‘All or nothing’ had that scrawled up on his bed frame so he could see it each time he went to bed and woke up. He’s getting there. I am glad he has you now though.” She winked at you making you giggle, “Team work and all that.”
.
By the time an hour had passed Richard managed to sneak away in search of you feigning a need to relieve himself. Wetting his lips he searched through all the possible hiding places on the lower floor then went to the impossible, the kitchen, the room his mother refused to let anyone else into when they were growing up only to stop and grin at the sight of you and his mother giggling as you rolled out cookie batter to add to the set up trays while his father stood in the other doorway with his camera stealing a few allotted moments on film in his pass through, commentating, “And here we have our lovely cooks for the evening.”
You both smiled and he waved at Margaret saying, “You know the rules John!”
Richard snuck in trading places with his dad to wrap around your middle kissing your cheek saying to his mother, “Just making sure this one didn’t sneak away Mum.” He kissed her cheek and released you after stealing another peck on your cheek, brushing a bit of flour off of your cheek from a brush of your hand earlier to move a strip of hair dangling freely over said cheek still. You rolled your eyes at his fleeing wink at you then slipped back into the conversation again.
.
Dinner was finished and enjoyed by all, most of whom chose to get to know you better over food after having caught up with their kin over the usual films. As the teens cleared you were tucked under Richard’s arm as he guided you to his usual chair to tuck you safely in his arms on his lap while the gifts from the visiting relatives were traded before they all filed out into their cars. All swapping hugs as you sat in Richard’s chair chatting with John in his stubborn plot not to get up again until it was time for bed after fetching countless items for his various relatives, their children and guests.
A few moments later Chris reentered the room stoking the fire on his path back to Trisha’s side with Margaret and Richard bringing up the rear to claim hers after dishing out fresh cocoa as Richard grabbed the left over presents covering the rug under the lit up tree for the private family swap, as per tradition. Wetting your lips you eyed the group of gifts at your feet beside Richards, one at a time you opened each gift with your gifts for them left for last as you unwrapped the sweater, socks, scarf, hat and fuzzy blanket they had gifted you with grateful squeaks and hugs for each of them.
Chris started your round of gifts stealing a hug and thanking you for the sweater. John was next folding back the paper to softly utter out, “Bellini’s Norma.” His stunned reaction said it all before his free hand moved to pat your knee gratefully, saying in a near tearful response, “Thank you. I will treasure it always.”
You nodded then looked to Margaret as she nipped at her lower lip then let out a stunned squeak making Richard rub your back excitedly seeing your gifts being well received. Her fingers traced across the etching of small ripples on a lake surface with two swans and a group of cygnets between them across the lid before she flipped it over to read the name of the song on the golden oval underneath, “Love Me Tender.” Tearfully her eyes met yours and she crossed the room to give you a tight hug seeing the song she and John first danced to. “Thank you.” Again she took her seat as Richard chuckled eyeing his gift curiously.
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Wetting his lips he folded back the paper seeing the quote “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I move the stars for no one.” Below them sat Jareth, the Goblin King on his throne. Richard’s lips parted as he opened the box lined with silver velvet exposing a glass circle with an etching of an owl in the center. His head turned to you mumbling, “You didn’t!”
You flashed him a quick grin and he grinned at you, “I did.”
He wrapped you in a tight hug, “I love it, it’s perfect Darling.” He passed the gift around saying, “Just like the one I lost years back in the move.” His lips pressed to your cheek firmly as he drew you fully onto his lap from the arm of the chair to hold you as the final traditional film was played. The end credits rolled and your eyes were barely open enough for Richard to help you upstairs to his old room he’d be sharing with you while Chris took the pull out couch carrying Trisha to his bed upstairs to tuck her in as their parents went to sleep.
At the foot of the bed you stood watching as Richard pulled out a pair of sweats then grinned at you leaning in to steal a kiss and purr, “Come on, get changed. Only cuddles I promise.” He grinned inching your bag closer to you as lowly added, “Trust me, I sneezed hard once with the flu and the headboard hit the wall, dad came racing up assuming the worst, just in time to bump the waste bin closer to me when I got sick.”
Weakly you giggled and undid your belt, lowering your jeans to step out of them before pulling on your flannel pajama pants to ease into bed with Richard close behind you watching as you smirked up at his motto etched into his headboard. A gentle kiss on the lips later and in the dark you settled into his arms for the night grinning as you clearly heard his parents downstairs in their room softly singing and dancing along to the song in the music box you had gifted them.
In the silence as the song ended you tilted your head to brush your nose against his to steal an awkward nose bending kiss and to whisper, “Merry Christmas.”
Lowly Richard chuckled kissing you again, “Merry Christmas.” Nuzzling his forehead against yours.
.
With breakfast came your tour through the annual snowman building with an all out impromptu battle with the kids in the neighboring houses until you retreated inside at Margaret’s call. After lunch you swapped hugs and had to make your way back to the train station. Carols filled the air again and through the snow you walked to the waiting car to be driven back to Richard’s. Once inside you barely had a moment before you were giggling against his lips in his tight embrace on your path to bed for him to let out all his pent up affections for you.
Docile again in your post coital bout of snuggling Richard kissed you then went to start on dinner in his briefs as you pulled on his abandoned sweater and went to pick your next film from his collection. Under the blanket you had been gifted you sat side by side enjoying the meal he had prepared before he chuckled folding his arms around you in your scoot closer. Stealing a kiss as you did then pressed your head to his chest grinning to yourself at your slow drift off to sleep in your Mate’s arms while he did the same trying not to focus on the 19 days he had left with you.
A week had passed, halfway to Richard’s dreading but also greatly for his adoration as your three dates, one you’d surprised him with and the two he planned in return leaving him barely able to help but smile. The previous day had been bustling and as he awoke in the hotel suite in London you had been gifted beside Dean’s for the visit to the London Ballet Company for your tour and signing the papers securing your single season contract starting in April lasting to August. A dinner with the heads of the company had lasted so long you went straight to bed.
Room service was called for by Richard and as he laid there waiting for it he leaned over straining to grab the Polaroid in your bag with a mischievous grin. With camera in hand he eased back lining up the shot to capture you in the early morning light through the snow falling outside behind you. Two pictures were taken, one of you asleep and the other after you had stirred and tried to hide your face from him. A chuckle escaped him as he set the camera on his hip to draw you to his side for a few more pictures together until the knock at the door split you up.
The rest of the day you explored London a bit more pretending to be enamored tourists until you hopped back onto a train to Oxford in time to stumble back to bed before your next round of rehearsals for the violin performances the next morning.
.
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All in all your visit was extraordinary. Far greater than you had hoped. The looming airport in the distance neared as you tried not to cry tracing your lips with your fingertips still feeling Richard’s lips hungrily working against yours in a final stolen moment before he had to head off to work. Regrettably he agreed to you taking a taxi when he got the last minute call to work saving him from his eventual frozen stance in the drop off terminal at the airport stubbornly on strike refusing to move until you were back again to stay in April. Broken hearted struggling over the throbbing ache in his chest he served out the next set of pints not caring how his ingrained scowl was affecting the mood of the customers around him confused at his sudden return to his sullen moods. All the nine hours he manned the bar he struggled through the painful fact that he would in fact be returning to his set pattern of eating, lounging, sleeping and showering alone.
No more would he get to turn over seeing you there wiggling closer to him for his boiling heat exuding him as he slept. No more random bouts of humming from across the house lulling him in to a round of cuddling and kisses. No more giggles. No more smiles. The knife kept twisting deeper in his chest until he was parked outside his house, fully recounting your first time there. The door opened and the emptiness washed over him. Sunken lower his mood dropped and he shrugged out of his coat, hung it up, leaving his boots by the door to pass into the kitchen finding a premade meal he checked the temp on to set the over to before moving into his bedroom fully avoiding yours.
In the painful light the clothes and clutter riddled room parted his lips as he saw the deep purple and grey striped comforter with matching pillowcases on new pillows he wondered when you had bought them. Moving closer he spotted the note you had written to him left on the center of it on top of a desk calendar set to that day.
“Rich,
I know it’s going to be a long three months.
I know you’ll be counting.
Maybe this will help make it a tad easier.
Jaqi.”
With a chuckle he sat down on the bed moving the note to see the Looney Tunes day to day calendar. A deep sigh left him and he spotted the ribbon marking down the back portion of the days he flipped to only to feel his lips part seeing a picture of you in his arms from that hotel kissing him.
Eagerly he skimmed through the days smirking again finding that each week ended with a picture of either just you he had taken or the pair of you together. All above a daily note from you with a heart around the number of days down until you returned making his lip quiver as tears filled his eyes. The ding from the oven marking that it was preheated drew him onto his feet, sniffling laving the gift behind on his path to make himself dinner hearing the last note he had read on the calendar in your voice echoing in his ears, “Take care of yourself. I want you well rested and in one piece when I get back.”
The night went roughly but finally he managed to sleep a few hours with a loud groan leaving him at his having to wake early for his pre planned surge of common shifts at the pub to save up all he could quickening his trip out to you. Sheer determination and a stolen glance at your picture on his way to shower moved him along. Halfway through toweling off though he froze feeling a familiar long since felt tingle from his left hand. Safely out of sight on the side of his middle finger was the word ‘Morning’ in front of a small heart stirring a beaming smile onto his face with a deep chuckle when he remembered your first months learning one another.
The notes, conversations on skin and your heavenly humming and steady voice filling his ears mingled with a new addition to the list. The small scarred seedling on your fingers, when touched made the other’s mark pulse and both tingle when you both were touching them. It’s other effects were commonly known, for those with voice bonds now one person had the ability to shield their minds from the other’s voice by drawing a circle of dots around the seed of coat it with a bandage, quite useful for his need to focus for roles or auditions and work. Once again you were back to courting and as painful as it was this was going to be the most agitating bout of foreplay for your first night together again.
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On the walk to claim your ticket you forced a grin and struggled to reread your dickens classics forcing your thoughts from Richard. A daydreaming tap of the pen you had used as a bookmark brought a smirk to your lips as you got an idea noticing what time it must be for Richard. A simple message stirred up the memories of that wonderful first meeting while not long after the teasing game grew in your mind. A hidden message here and there, no doubt in more scandalous places than a finger could possibly work in your favor in reminding him of your time together and what you no doubt would be dreaming of doing while apart.
Upon landing however a tear fell down your cheek knowing it was now officially your birthday. A marker you had celebrated early with Richard and his family and had been invited to celebrate again at the Pace’s later that day. Outside the bustle of people you expected to find a cab to head back alone, however at the gate Lee stood with a spreading smile as he held out a box of Mike and Ikes.
A confused giggle left you in your accepting the box as he stated, “Happy Birthday.” Stepping forward he lifted you into a tight hug mumbling against your shoulder, “Welcome home.” Setting you down his smile spread, “I tried to get you flowers but the guy at the stand refused to sell a single rose to me, ‘on principle’, whatever reason that is when I have cash in hand.”
You giggled again rolling your eyes and he nodded his head taking hold of your duffel bag to escort you out to the bus you would take further into the city before taking the subway the rest of the way to your apartment. “Now, tell me all about the rest of your trip. Last I heard you were hiding from the masses.” He chuckled then inched a bit closer to you settling on the seats on the bus at your side beaming at the fact you were home again.
Pt 13
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Text
Hoping for Home Ch 5.2~Head Above Water
Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here (ya know ya wanna). 
Song for this chapter: “Head Above Water” by Avril Levigne
Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me. Also this chapter includes smatters of canon dialogue which also belong to PB.
Tags:@fullbeaumonty @ritachacha@speedyoperarascalparty@cocomaxley@leelee10898@itsstillnotwhatyouthink@choiceswreckedme@indiacater@drakesensworld @carabeth@daniv2278@cosigottahavefaith @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality@blackcoffee85@perfectprofessorherokid @darley1101@jovialyouthmusic@liamxs-world@thequeenofcronuts@blznbaby@stopforamoment @zilch3382@wannabemc2@jlouise88  @lodberg @jasieschoices
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Outskirts of the Capital, Cordonia-safehouse - 16 years ago
    “Did...did that work?” Libby asked, flabbergasted.
   “I dunno. Sounds like it did.” Maxwell said. “Look at us. First detectives, now electricians!”
   “We're almost as multi- talented  as Hana.”
  “Whoa, don't let a couple of successes go to your head.”
  Libby watched as he plucked a twig from a nearby bush, turning it over in his fingers. A light breeze kicked up, rustling his careless brown hair.
   She allowed herself to believe - just a fleeting thought - that they could always be as perfect as they were in that moment.
    Everything inside of her was screaming  to kiss him and she found herself involuntarily leaning closer to his slouched figure.
  “Listen, Libby…” he broke the silence between them.
 “What's up?” She shook her head, her fantasy from a moment ago falling out of focus.
  “I was so scared last night.”
  “With assassins in the palace... I think everyone was.”
  “No,” he began. He focused his gaze off into the forest surrounding the tiny cabin.
  “not for my own safety. Well, I mean, partly for my own safety. But mostly, I was scared for you.”
   Maxwell trained his eyes on her then, squinting against the sunlight. Libby took a step closer to him, only then did she notice the subtle sheen in his eyes.
   “I laid awake all night wondering if you were okay. If you'd made it out of there alive. I tried to go back for you, but they wouldn't let me back into the ballroom.
   I don't.. I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you, Blossom.”
    Libby reached for his hand, gripping it as if she were holding on for dear life.
   “But you didn't lose me, Maxwell.”
   He gave her a weak, lopsided smile.
  “I never want to spend another night wondering if I'm going to see you in the morning. Not knowing was awful. Libby, I lov- I can't lose you. If we left all of this...together...do you understand what I'm saying?”
   She chewed over his words, unsure how to respond.
   Her mind told her that he was speaking fairy tales. They could never run off into the sunset together, away from the fight that was no doubt brewing in Cordonia. Liam would need every ally he could rally by his side, and after everything he'd done for her- for both of them- her mind knew that staying was the right thing to do.
  But her heart- her heart was soaring, thumping wildly in her chest at the thought of Maxwell being hers forever. They'd buy a small house somewhere with a white picket fence. She'd make him coffee while he cooked breakfast. They'd kiss each other sweetly as they left to began their day. He'd come home after work and they'd snuggle by the fireplace and…
   Her face fell as she licked her lips.
   “We can't.” She said flatly.
    Maxwell pressed his lips to her temple.
   “I know.” He whispered.
   They stood in silence for a long time, both knowing that their friends were likely wondering where they were, but neither willing to let go of the other just yet.
  “You know, Maxwell, I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. You'll never lose me.” Libby finally said.
********************
Valtoria, Cordonia - present day
   “Penny for your thoughts?” Hana asked sliding into the stool beside her best friend  at the bar. Libby blinked away her memory, giving Hana and her husband a warm smile.
   “The kids are actually having fun, I think.” Mark commented with a laugh.
   “That's good. I'm glad Hana let me get away with a slightly more modern playlist.” The redhead chuckled.
   “It was a compromise. I keep the string quartet for traditional songs, and you have your jazzy, retro whatever it is..”
   “You two make a good team. I hope now that you've returned you'll stick around for awhile, Libby. Seeing you really makes Hana smile. Also, although I thoroughly enjoy our time at Valtoria, our estate in Whipstaff is...well empty.” Mark told her.
   “I can't promise forever, but for a while at least. It don't really have much of a choice. I came back to do the right thing, Mark. The twins will need to be in Cordonia.”
     Libby caught sight of Liam, Maxwell and Drake across the room. She watched them, deep in conversation.
   Liam wore his characteristic “lost in thought” look, his forehead creasing as tapped his lips with his index finger. Drake was gesturing between Maxwell and the king, and Maxwell popped his neck flippantly. Whatever they were discussing, he obviously wanted no part in it.
   “Where are the kids, anyway?” Libby asked. The three friends scanned the room before Mark pointed out. “There. At the table.” He said.
    “Well hello there, cousin. Abel. Either of you care to introduce me to the new Lord and Lady?”
    “Hey, Bartie. Sure thing. This is Emma,” McKenzie began gesturing to her friend. “And Will Scott, Lord and Lady of Valtoria. Guys this is my cousin, Barthelemy Beaumont, Lord of Ramsford. We call him Bartie.”
   The youngest Beaumont male held out his hand to Will, giving it a firm shake before grasping Emma's hand and placing a brief kiss to the back of it.
   “I'm surprised we've not met before as close as I've heard our parents once were. In fact, if I eavesdropped properly, your mother was once heralded as a Lady of House Beaumont. During King Liam's social season.”
     Emma nodded enthusiastically. She remembered her mother's recount of her past in Cordonia word for word and to say she was excited to be starting her own adventure in the small Mediterranean country was an understatement.
   “You can cut the shit, Bartie. These two are far from the pretentious assholes you're used to interacting with at these things.” Mack rolled her eyes.
   Bartie's shoulders visibly slumped, almost like a balloon slowly deflating, and he flopped down in a chair next to Abel, slouching.
   “Thank God. You never really know,do you?” He breathed a sigh of relief.
  “No, you don't, and it's exhausting.” Abel agreed, elbows on his knees.
  “Wait, so you're telling me that you always have to put on a show? Like with everyone you meet?” Emma questioned.
   “They do. Ya know gotta make the House look good. Luckily, I'm not noble and my dad could give a shit less what this court thinks of him.” McKenzie remarked.
   Will shot his sister a pained expression.
   “I don't get it though. Why does anyone care?”
   “That's this life, man. Everyone is constantly pretending to be something that they're not. Constantly trying to appear perfect. But it's all just a facade. Take a look around you. Everyone is smiling, sure, but how many are smizing?” Bartie spoke up.
  “Smizing?” Mack asked.
  “Smiling so that it reaches your eyes. My mom says that all the time.” Will chimed in picking at the linen tablecloth.
  “So don't you ever just want to leave? Like sneak away from these things? I'm sure no one would miss us.” Emma suggested and the others all perked up.
  “Okay, Lady Valtoria. We're listening.” Abel told her as her cheeks flashed crimson.
   Before Emma could respond, Libby approached the teenagers followed closely by King Liam and a brunette man that the blonde girl didn't recognize.
   “Hello, kids. Could you excuse us a moment?” Libby asked. Abel, McKenzie, and Bartie nodded, each rising from their seats.
    Maxwell planted his feet, slipping his hands in his pockets, fingering the pack of gum in one of them. He appraised the twins thoughtfully for the first time as they rose from the table at their mother's prompting.
   His jaw went slack as he soaked in their features, noticing now how much Will looked just like himself at that age; and Emma strongly favored his treasured photos of his mother on her wedding day.
   His eyes darted over each of them, thoughts racing as he swallowed hard. ‘Still,’ he thought to himself. ‘it doesn't mean much.’  Taking a deep breath he reminded himself that his mother, Claudia, had always been mistaken for Liam's mother, the late Queen Antonia. There was also the fact that Will's wide blue eyes were set on his face almost exactly like Liam's and the late King Constantine's.
     Maxwell shifted his weight uncomfortably as he tried to calm his thoughts.
   “Emma, Will, there are some people I'd like you to meet. This is King Liam of Cordonia.” Libby began. The broad shouldered young man dipped into a deep bow, his sister a delicate curtsy. Liam nodded to both of them, surveying each child for some kind of sign of parentage.
    Emma's features we're graceful, but defined. Her one sided dimple reminded Liam of the identical one his father had had. Will, on the other hand, had the brightest “Rhys blue” eyes he had ever seen.
    “A pleasure to meet you both.” He told them, his jaw tensing to try and hide his astonishment.
    “And this is Lord Maxwell Beaumont of Ramsford.” Libby continued. The twins repeated the courtesies they'd shown to the king and Maxwell nodded.
    “I'm sorry to stare,” he started, his tongue flicking out to nervously wet his lips. “It's just that you both look so much like your mother.”
    Liam stared hard at Maxwell. He had known the man for all of their lives, but he couldn't recall the last time he'd truly looked at him. Immediately he noticed that Maxwell and the young man before him shared the same chiseled jawline. He also found himself transfixed by the obvious “Cupid's bow” shape of his old friend's upper lip, which both of Libby's twins shared.
   Liam exhaled sharply, his analytical mind already beginning to prepare him for the very real possibility that he was, in fact, not the father of the children before him. Although only hours ago he had not even known of their existence, Liam found himself slightly disappointed by the thought.
   “So one of you-I guess-is our dad, huh?” Will asked awkwardly, unable to stifle the urge.
   Libby's eyes shot daggers into her son who immediately stared at his feet.
   “It looks that way.” Maxwell said shooting a sideways glare at his former flame.
   The tension was already thick, and growing thicker by the minute as Liam clapped Will playfully on the shoulder.
   “Obviously we all have a lot to discuss in the coming days, but for tonight...perhaps I can interest you in a dance, young Emma?”
     Emma batted her eyes bashfully as she nodded in agreement allowing the monarch to lead her to the floor.
      A few hours later  Bartie sidled up next to Will and Abel. The ball was winding down now, but there was still a sizeable crowd.
    “Hey Will, I was thinking about what your sister said earlier. Was wondering if you guys were really serious.”
   “About sneaking out? Hell yeah. I can't wait to get out of here.”
   Abel rested a hand on his friend's shoulder.
   “This whole party must be kinda heavy for you and Emma.” He empathized and Will nodded.
    “Well I had an idea.” Bartie smirked reaching into his pocket. “I managed to sneak into the estate car park and I found these. There's a Rolls Royce in there with our names on it...that is is you guys aren't chicken.”
    “I'm game. Let's find Mack and Emma and get outta here.” Will agreed.
       Before long the teenagers were barreling down a dark and winding road. Bartie was behind the wheel, as Will and Abel hung out if the back seat windows whooping and hollering. McKenzie and Emma had dialed the radio as loud as it would go shouting gleefully.
    “Oh I've been shaken/ I love it when you go crazy/ you take all my inhibitions/ baby there's nothing holding me back!” They sang along with Shawn Mendez as they rounded yet another curve.
     “Why have we never thought of doing this before, Mack? Good friends and old school music….this is the best!” Bartie shouted taking his eyes off of the tree-lined road for only a moment to glance at the girls both jammed into the front seat.
    “I don't know, but I think it's a new tradition, Bart!” McKenzie beamed.
     “Bartie! Bartie, watch out!” Will shouted just as a deer hopped into the road.
     Bartie whipped his head back noticing the animal just in time to pull the wheel. The car flipped on two wheels as they skidded into a hard swerve and in the mayhem Bartie lost control entirely. The car careened off the road smashing head on into an old, thick tree.
     Smoke billowed from the hood, the sickening sound of crunching metal and shattering glass echoing all around.
    Will looked around in a daze, his eyes meeting Abel's. “Is everyone okay?” Bartie called.
    “I- I can't feel my arm. Em? Em, I can't feel my arm.” Will began to panic, noticing now that the extremity was pinched between the newly mangled seats.
   “Emma! Oh my God, Emma!!” McKenzie squealed. Will craned his neck trying desperately to find his sister. Peering between the seats he saw her crumpled, lifeless body in the front floorboard, head lolling against McKenzie's knees.
    His eyes widened to the size of sand dollars as he shouted, “Fuck! Emma? Emma! Please wake up!”
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deansmyapplepie · 6 years
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A Father’s Blessing
Prompt creds to @spn-imagines-nation !!
Original Prompt: Imagine Dean asking your father for your hand and promising to protect you and love you no matter what happens.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Tags: proposal, nervous!Dean, sweet!Dean
Word Count: 1,731
(Gif not mine)
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Dean beat his fingers on the steering wheel nervously. After everything he'd seen, there wasn't much that scared him anymore. This, however, was more nerve-wracking than any monster he had ever faced before. When he pulled up to the small cape cod style house, his nerves had him grabbing for his phone.
"Dean?" Sam asked, sounding surprised to hear from his brother so soon. "How'd it go?" Dean's palms were sweating like crazy, and he had to hold the phone with both hands as to not drop it.
"It hasn't yet. I'm freakin' out, man. What if he says no?" Sam sighed softly on the other end of the line.
"He won't say no. You already practiced what you're gonna say like ten times, all right? And this is what you want, isn't it?" Dean glanced over at the ring box in the passenger seat and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Yeah," he answered, feeling much more at ease. "I want this more than anything." Dean heard his younger brother chuckle.
"I know you do. Now go knock on that door and get his blessing. You've got this." Dean nodded.
"You're right. Thanks, Sammy." With a quiet beep, the call ended, returning the older Winchester to the hushed atmosphere with nothing but his thoughts for company. Dean took another deep breath before finally taking the small box in his hand and leaving the Impala. By the time he got up to the wrap-around front porch, his nerves were even worse than before. His finger hovered over the doorbell. "Come on," he muttered to himself. "What's the worst that could happen?" He paused and retracted his finger. "He could say no, that's the worst that could happen."
Dean turned around and headed back to the car. His hand was on the driver's side handle when the weight of the situation kicked in. "This is for Y/N," he had to remind himself. Secretly, Dean was embarrassed by how nervous he was, but then again, who wouldn't be? Your father was tougher and far more protective than his own was, and here he was about to ask him for your hand. He looked up at the house, which, despite its cozy appearance, was incredibly daunting. The front yard was a good size and went remarkably well with the picket-fence style. Dean smiled to himself. He could practically see you running around the yard as a young girl as he recounted stories you had told him of your childhood. He wouldn't mind having a little one that looked like you one day. Dean took yet another deep breath and shoved the ring box in his jacket pocket, stomping back up to the porch before he had time to change his mind. This was something he would not talk himself out of. The doorbell glowed a warm yellow as he pressed his thumb down on it, and as he did so, he heard the welcoming chime echo throughout the inside of the house. When no one answered after a moment, Dean checked his watch. 7:32. He didn't think that was too late. Just as he was about to ring the doorbell again, the front door swung open, revealing a balding man with a hard expression. "Mr. Y/L/N?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, that's me," your father answered.
"I know you don't know me, but my name is Dean Winchester. I work with your daughter." His eyes narrowed, and his expression darkened slightly.
"Is she okay?"
"Oh, she's fine." Your dad nodded, showing his relief, and then stuck his hand out. Dean wasted no time in returning the handshake.
"So, you work with my Y/N, huh?" he asked. "She still hunting those... things?" Dean's eyes widened in surprise. You had never mentioned that your father knew about hunting.
"Yeah, we hunt together," Dean explained. "She never told me you knew what was really out there." He gave a hearty laugh.
"That's because she doesn't know that I know." Your father opened the door all the way, gesturing for Dean to come inside. Immediately after stepping into the main hallway, he was greeted by pictures of you as a child, all the way up to your college graduation. Dean inspected the picture of you holding your diploma with curiosity.
"Holy crap," he marveled. "I didn't know she went to Princeton." Your dad grunted in acknowledgment.
"Don't take it personal, son. Y/N never really talks about college much. Brings up bad memories for her. She dropped out when we lost her mother." Dean placed the picture frame back down on the table, not saying another word. You had told him a couple years ago that your mom was the main reason you had joined the hunt, but he never dared ask questions for fear of upsetting you.
"So, Mr. Y/L/N," Dean said, following your dad into the kitchen. He turned around, grimacing.
"Just call me Roy," he insisted. "People say 'Mr. Y/L/N,' and I look around for my dad." Dean gave a slight nod to show his understanding.
"How did you figure out Y/N was hunting?" Roy laughed, a sound that reverberated pleasantly, and handed Dean a beer.
"Wasn't too hard to figure out. Y/N is my girl," he began. "Her mom and I raised her to be strong and kind. She's good-hearted and tough as nails, but she can't lie for squat." Dean let out a chuckle of his own as he recalled a failed surprise party you had planned for him last year.
"No, she can't," he agreed. Your dad took a swig of his beer.
"Besides," he continued. "I know the signs. Seen all the equipment before. Her mother was a hunter herself." Dean felt his eyes widen.
"Did Y/N know that?" Roy shook his head.
"No." Dean watched the gruff man across from him in disbelief as he tilted the neck of his beer bottle in his direction. "And I'd appreciate it if you kept that bit of information between us. I'd like her to hear that from me. If she ever comes around to see her old man again, that is." Dean took a long drink as he looked around at the house again. He could tell how much your dad loved you by how many pictures of you he had hanging on the walls. One, in particular, caught his eye. You as a child with your mother pushing you on an old wooden swing. Dean smiled to himself. You had told him a few stories of your mother here and there. From what he knew, she had a heart of gold and loved her family more than anything. He wished he could have met her. Both of you were grinning ear to ear in the picture, and you were the spitting image of her. Even as a young girl, you were still drop-dead gorgeous. When he turned his attention back to Roy, he was watching him intently.
"You and Y/N don't just hunt together, do you?" Dean hesitantly shook his head and set the beer down on the table.
"No, sir, we don't." Your dad also placed his beer down with a clink.
"Aw, hell." He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "All right, son," he said, turning his protective father voice on. "You're here for a reason. What is it?" Dean took a deep breath. Here went nothing. 
"Y/N and I have been dating for a couple years now. The day we met, she saved my sorry ass from a crocotta that had me knocked out cold. When she finally got me to come to, I thought I was in heaven at first because of how damn beautiful she was. She's the kindest woman I've ever met, and she dedicates her life to helping others." Dean watched Roy's face light up at his praises. "Y/N makes me the happiest man in the world, and she helps to make me a better person, too. She never lets me give up, and she saves me from myself when times get grim. I love her with all my heart, and more than I could even begin to put into words. With your blessing..." Dean anxiously took the ring box from his jacket pocket, opening it and setting it on the table. "I'd like to ask your daughter to marry me." Your dad carefully examined the ring, a small smile growing on his face. "And I know what we do is dangerous," Dean went on. "I know marriage sure as hell won't be easy with hunting. But I swear to you that no matter what happens, I will love your daughter, and I'll protect her with my life." Roy examined the ring for a moment before pushing the box back over to Dean.
"You really love her, don't you?" he asked.
"More than anything," Dean answered with a nod. Roy gave a soft chuckle, reaching for his beer again.
"I can tell by how you've been looking at her pictures all night. Your eyes light up, and you're looking at her the same way I used to look at her mother." Dean watched him anxiously as he mulled it over. "And you said you'll protect her?"
"With my life," Dean repeated. After several moments of looking thoughtful, Roy nodded, scratching his chin.
"I won't forget that, Winchester," he informed. "You better take care of my Y/N." Dean looked up at your father, hopefully.
"You mean-" Roy grinned and nodded again.
"You have my blessing." The two men stood from the kitchen table, shaking hands. And when the evening came to an end, your dad only had a few parting words. "You make my daughter happy, you hear?" Dean smiled widely.
"You can count on that," he promised. He headed for the Impala under the dim moonlight.
"Dean?" Dean stopped, turning on his heel. "Have Y/N come out to see her old man soon, would you?" Dean smiled and nodded.
"I will." As Roy closed the front door behind him, Dean could hardly contain his excitement. He snatched his phone from the passenger's seat, redialing his younger brother. It only rang once before he answered.
"Well?" Sam asked. Dean beamed.
"He said yes." He looked at the small ring box in his hand excitedly as Sam cheered and offered his congratulations. You were in for one hell of a surprise.
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