#I have spent a total of FOUR days of winter break at my actual house | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxrrywildflower · 3 years

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home for the holidays {g.w.}

pairing - george weasley x reader

summary - you surprise george for christmas

warnings - none

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the one thing george always looked forward to every year was christmas.

for one, there was no school and no homework to worry about. but his true love for the holiday came from the family aspect of it. it was a time where everyone could be together with no worries.

over the years some people dropped, such as bill and charlie who had work commitments (though they still managed to come home every once and a while) but more additions more added.

you were the first outsider to be brought into the weasley’s for christmas.

fred and george became instant friends with you during first year, your multitude of classes together and love of mutual topics playing a key role in it. when christmas came around and you didn’t have a place to go, the twins waisted no time inviting you home with them.

you fit right in with the weasley’s. molly adored you, claiming you were one of the few good influences on fred and george. you found yourself spending more and more time at the burrow because of it.

but slowly your feelings towards george changed.

you began to realize that you liked him more than a friend. the once platonic flirting and gentle touches made your heart flutter and a blush form on your cheeks.

at first you were sure your feelings were one-sided. there was no way george would see you as more than a friend, right?

eventually your fear of him not feeling the same way slowly diminished. george became more touchy, flirty even. it was clear your relationship with him, versus yours with fred’s, was incredibly different.

george had finally admitted how he felt one snowy evening.

it was close to two weeks after christmas. you had another few days or so left until you were due back at hogwarts.

you couldn’t sleep one night. instead of lying in bed and waiting until you could finally rest, you tiptoed out of your room and headed down to the kitchen with the intent of making something to drink.

you placed a kettle full of water on the stove. just as you were grabbing a mug out of the cabinet, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“can’t sleep?”

you hummed. “yeah, just wanted to come down here and make some tea. sorry if i woke you up.”

just as you finished your sentence, you turned to actually take a look at your guest. george was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen dressed in flannel pants and a loose white shirt. his hair stuck up in several directions, clearly disheavled from having just woken up.

“nice hair,” you commented next. but to be honest, you would be lying if you said he didn’t look good.

george chuckled to himself, moving up to run his hands through his hair. “mind if i join you?”

“of course,” you answered. “do you want a cup?”

“that would be nice, thanks love.”

once the kettle had let out its shrill whistle signaling to you the water was ready, you turned off the stove to pour the water in the two mugs. by now george had made his way further into the kitchen, jumping up to sit on the table.

you prepared the drinks in silence, adding in both of your desired amounts of cream and sugar.

“can i tell you something?” george questioned as you handed him his mug.

“of course.”

“well i’m kinda high on adrenaline right now and probably won’t remember this in the morning so i guess it’s now or never,” george laughed nervously.

you quirked an eyebrow at his words.

“look y/n, i’m not great at really expressing my feelings but uh, i really like you. uh not in a friend way i mean. i know it’s probably super weird since your my best friend but uh,” he paused for a moment, not exactly clear on where to go from there.

“you fancy me, georgie?”

he hid his face, clearly flustered at his confession. “yeah i do. it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i just needed to get it off my just. i’m really sorry if this changes how we are and-”

you cut george off by pressing your lips softly against his.

the kiss was messy at first, neither of you having any experience in the slightest. george was clearly taken back at your initiative, though his confusion quickly went away as he melted into the kiss, hands moving to cup your cheek gently.

once you pulled back, george had wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him as he rested his head on yours. a gentle kiss to your temple followed that.

“thank you,” george whispered.

you looked up towards him, a slight gaze of confusion in your eyes. “for what?”

“for being mine.”

↓

the one thing george looked forward to was being able to spend your first christmas as a couple together.

he was visibly crushed when you had to sit him down and tell him your parents needed you home this year for the holidays.

nonetheless, your boyfriend had hugged you tightly. “it’s okay y/n, i promise. maybe you can come for a few days before school starts. i know mum would love to have you.”

“i’ll talk to my parents and send a letter,” you agreed.

george went on for the rest of the days leading up to break assuming you wouldn’t be together for christmas. but unknown to him, you already had a plan forming with a surprise.

the two of you had said your goodbyes on the train platform.

both of your parents were standing by each other, mingling with each other and waiting for you to arrive.

the second you stepped off the train, you greeted your parents with hugs. george did the same, clearly happy to see his mum and dad after months at school.

as the rest of the weasley family had finally made their way off of the train and towards the group, george pulled you aside to a less crowded area of the platform.

“i’m going to miss you,” he mumbled.

you surged forward to hug him. “it’s just a few weeks, we’ll be back together soon. besides, i’ll make sure to write plenty.”

you reached up to place your hand in his cheek. the gesture clearly brought george some comfort as he leaned into your touch. “please do.”

the two of you heard what sounded like goodbyes from both of your families, no doubt signanling you would be heading home soon.

george ducked down to press his lips to yours in a short kiss.

“i’ll see you soon, love.”

you kissed the corner of his mouth once more. “i’ll see you soon,” you confirmed.

——

just four days later you were packing up again.

you spent as much time as you could with your parents before you were set to leave. you bid them a quick goodbye and less than an hour later, you were arriving at the burrow.

the whole thing was a total surprise, having been carefully planned out over the past few days.

christmas eve had finally rolled around and thus all the traditions that came with it for the weasley family. it was snowing outside, the ground already covered in many inches of the soft white powder with only more to come.

george stood stationed at the window, hands in his pockets as he looked out at the vast winter wonderland.

“george!” fred shouted from the living room. “should we deal you in?”

there was still a few hours to go before dinner. normally the weasley family would be outside playing quidditch or some other yard game but due to the weather confusions that clearly wasn’t possible. they instead opted for cards, something simple that everyone could play together.

“yeah, why not.”

george had only been sitting with his entire family for a few minutes before there was a knock at the door.

“oh george, could you possibly get that?”

“of course, mum,” he agreed.

after placing his cards down on the table, george jumped up to maneuver his way back towards the front door.

george opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he realized who was on the other side.

“room for one more?” you asked.

george’s face instantly lit up. “no way,” he breathed out.

you bit your lip to hide your grin. “hey georgie. i don’t mean to intrude but it’s freezing out here,” you spoke.

he all but swung open the door to usher you inside. in an instant he was directing you on where to drop your stuff.

you had barely put your final bag on the ground before george was pulling you into a tight hug, clearly overjoyed to be seeing you.

“how are you here?” george immediately asked once you pulled away. “i thought you were supposed to be home for the holidays?”

“well,” you started as you made your way a bit further into the house. “your mum and fred helped set it up.”

george turned to the others in the room, molly and fred shooting him a warm smile. oh he so owed fred for this. “and your parents? what did they say?”

“they agreed to let me spend christmas here as long as i spend a little bit of time home during summer. just two weeks or so and if i’m still invited, i’ll be back here,” you spoke. george’s eyes symphasized at your statement. “but they did say they would love to have you visit during that time.”

his expression shifted once more. “i’m so glad you’re here,” he smiled.

you leaned up to rest your hand on his cheek. “me too.” with that, george ducked down to press his lips against yours.

“oi lovebirds!” fred shouted. “we’re starting the next round.

a blush was clearly evident on both of your faces as you pulled away. “shall we?” george offered you his hand. you interlocked your hand with his as he pulled you into the living room.

you took a seat on the couch, squished in between fred and george as the cards were shuffled and dealt out.

george leaned to wrap an arm around you, greatly aiding to his ability to kiss the side of your head. “you know that’s going to hurt your playing composure,” you commented. george just shrugged at that.

“frankly love, it’s worth it.”

a giggle escaped your lips as you nestled further into his chest.

it truly was the best christmas.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

tagging - @goldenxreid @wilburxpancakes @sunlightgalaxy @criminaly-supernatural @blakes-dictionxry @mrs-dr-reid @weasleytwinsfav

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #the weasley twins #weasley twins #gryffindor #fred and george #fred and goerge weasley

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

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clear the clouds (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: after weeks of bucky feels down, natasha knows exactly who to call to make him feel better

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2,030

trigger warnings: sickening fluff, also - please don’t take kitten rearing advice from fanfiction

notes: this is a birthday present for the effervescent @m00nlightdelights, who asked for bucky barnes interacting with kittens. happy birthday babe!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Natasha was the one who called you – asking something many dream for but very few get to experience. It’s hard to transport that many tiny, wriggling animals across town and very few are willing to pay the exorbitant, arbitrary amount of money you had made some intern put on the website after the twentieth call asking about the particular service.

People, apparently, really want to rent a bunch of kittens for several different types of events – finals weeks at universities and rich high schools, bat and bar mitzvahs, once even a wedding. Why those event coordinators can’t rent service animals is beyond you, and why they always expect you to do these things for free is also a mystery.

No matter why those people wanted your kittens, you closed the service except for incredibly rare cases.

One of those incredibly rare cases, per the usual path of your life, involved Natasha Romanoff.

You owed her a favor from a few years back, when she made sure an ex-boyfriend of yours…well, for legal purposes you can’t talk about it, but Natasha made sure he never bothered you or your friends ever again.

Natasha’s got enough tact not to bring the year-long ordeal up – just said she wanted to “cash in” on your side of the bargain. You sighed into the office landline when she told you she was calling for her favor, the exhale so deep it was still audible despite the barking and scratching and the menagerie of other noises.

It takes you a second to collect yourself, to shove the memories back into that little box your therapist had you build and then tuck into the back of your brain.

Despite not being able to see her face, you can tell she’s frowning and has furrowed her brow. “You good?”

You nodded, then remembered how phones work. “Yeah,” you let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. You want the kittens at Avengers Towers this weekend for a few hours to help that friend of yours-“

“Bucky,” Natasha interrupts you. “His name is Bucky. And you should go out with him.”

Despite still knowing how phone works, you roll your eyes. “Didn’t you just say he spent the last week bedridden because of depression. It doesn’t exactly sound like he’s in the right state of mind for a relationship.”

Your friend scoffs into the phone, shutting what you think is a thick book for dramatic audial effect. “And you spend fifteen hours a day at your shelter because it gives you an excuse not to see people. I don’t need you to marry him, I’m saying maybe a coffee date would be good for you.”

There’s a pause where you search for a sarcastic response, but Natasha beats you to it.

“Actually, no,” she says, voice dripping with a lovable dryness you can’t help but admire. “It will be good for both of you.”

Another pause while you recalculate your sarcastic response cortex. After a deeply silent thirty seconds, you give up.

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But you and Wanda are helping me and you’re buying me lunch for that day and you’re helping me during adoption day at the museum next month.”

Somehow, you can hear Natasha’s wide and triumphant smile. “You got it, kid.”

And with that, you hang up before falling back in your office chair. You swear, that woman could convince you to do anything.

Fucking spies, you think before putting the event in the shelter’s e-calendar.

The day arrives both too quickly and not quickly enough – your brain caught between something akin to “existential dread” and “oh my God my friend is trying to set me up with her friend and what if it doesn’t work but what if it does” the entire week before the planned event. During the night before you down quadruple your normal dose of melatonin to fall asleep after spending three entire hours trying on all your clothes to plan the right outfit (in the end, you chose an unusually nice pair of leggings and a plan sweater along with boots cute enough to fool a man into thinking they’re fancy while still protecting your feet from the end-stage winter air outside.

(Also, the leggings and sweater are the easiest things to lint roll kitten fur off of you for, say, a date at an upscale coffee shop you normally wouldn’t even think of going to, but that’s nobody’s business and you totally one hundred percent did not think about that when trying the outfit on.)

You meet Natasha and Wanda at the shelter the next morning, you getting there before them to gather the necessary supplies from the back. Despite them promising to help you load your car with kittens and kitten-adjacent items, you still didn’t want either of them messing with the precious organization system you’d spent years perfecting (and years training interns and vet techs how to abide by it).

Luckily, with your precautions and time management – and despite Wanda’s need to kiss every kitten (yes, every kitten) as they were loaded into crates – you arrive at the infamous Stark Tower right on time.

Set up of the whole thing doesn’t take long, Natasha successfully leading the way through the maze of which is the expansive building. You pass a few people you recognize from Natasha’s stories and the news, and a few others who you don’t but still smile as they pass (whether they were just being nice or smiling at the kittens in the crates you were holding, you refused to decide).

It takes a few elevator rides, but eventually you get to the desires floor and room – Wanda knocking on the door after setting her Ikea bag of playpen supplies on the carpeted floor.

A response is nearly immediate. “Go away!” a gruff voice calls, muffled by the thick walls.

Natasha and Wanda both roll their eyes. “Shut up and open the door!” the former replies.

There’s no verbal response, but you do hear shuffling before the door opens to reveal a figure more brick house than man. His hair is messy, sweatshirt a size too large and solid black but with jeans that fit perfectly. His boots – much thicker and blacker than yours – are dirty.

“What do you want?” he grumbles.

Natasha remains unphased by the man’s demeanor. “We have kittens. Now move out of my way so we can set all this shit up and you can pet some cute animals.”

Bucky gives her a look and rolls his eyes, but steps asides and holds the door open for the three of you nonetheless.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky found in the middle of the four-foot wide pen, bewildered. He’s done a lot of things in his life, many of which would be impossible for (nearly) anyone else to accomplish. He speaks thirty languages (plus Morse code and ten variations of sign language), he’s hunted bears with his bare hands, he’s survived Russian winters and summers in the Amazon rainforest.

Yet, somehow, the thing that stunts him beyond reproach is a small play pen filled with about forty tiny, six-week old kittens that are all their own form of chaotic. Bucky doesn’t know where to look, let alone how to grab the ones that catch his eye. He’s terrified of crushing them like bug caught under a hardcover book, of breaking their tiny ribs or tiny legs or tiny necks.

He watched you intensely when you and Natasha and Wanda pulled them out of their crates, watching how you held them and which one allowed you to give them kisses and which one chased after the strands in Natasha’s ponytail. He noticed which ones curled up in small spheres in the corners of the pen, which ones immediately bopped about, which ones immediately sought out the bottle of formula you’d prepared and which ones nibbled at the liquidy wet food that had been scooped into a neon blue bowl.

Each tiny animal was different, and it amazed him.

There was this one cat, a fluffy little white one with one ear and splotches of buttery yellow seems the boldest, eyeing Bucky as if the man was this small cat’s Everest. The floral collar (one of those break-away ones, you had told him, meant to keep the kittens from getting hurt but allowing the rescuers to identify them by name and rescue identification number) has a small nameplate – a gold one – with “Squirt” etched into the metal.

“Squirt,” Bucky repeats under his breath. “Nice to meet you, little guy.”

The cat gives him a small, pterodactyl-like scream in response, as if the small animal is too young to speak in any other tone but “loud.”

“HELLO LARGE CAT,” he imagines the cat saying. “HELLO, I AM A SMALLER CAT. DO YOU WISH TO BE CLIMBED?”

Bucky smiles at the imagined conversation, allowing the brave creature to dig its tiny claws into the leg of his jeans just above his socked feet (he took off his boots when he arrived in the room, as per your request), the start to his magnificent journey.

“I do not mind being climbed,” the man answers out loud. For once, he doesn’t take in the entire room’s emotions and reactions before he says something – he just talks, even if that freedom from paranoia is only allowing him to speak to someone (or thing) that can’t talk back.

Squirt gets to Bucky’s knee before screeching once more, just as tenacious as when he was on the floor. “THIS IS MUCH HARDER THAN I EXPECTED,” is all Squirt says.

Bucky laughs, ignoring the several other kittens who are trying to claw up Bucky’s metal arm – each unsuccessful but determined to continue to try. “I’m a lot bigger than you realized, huh?”

Squirt takes a few more wobbly steps, tail high in the air, before looking to Bucky for guidance as the tiny creature stands on his thigh. “I WOULD LIKE SOME HELP, PLEASE,” Bucky interprets from the screeches.

He laughs, not moving. Another kitten, this time an equally tiny short-haired black cat named “Foosball” attempts to follow in Squirt’s literal and metaphorical footsteps, but gives up when she gets to Bucky’s knees. This, too, makes him let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, kid. You’re doing just fine.”

You watch Bucky’s interactions with the kittens intensely – telling yourself you just need to make sure he doesn’t hurt them accidentally. In truth, he was handling them the best you’d seen anyone outside your shelter in a long time – gentle, firm, attentive. His pseudo-conversations warm your heart, and the only thing that breaks your concentration is one of the larger kittens walking up to the barrier of the pen to scream at you from inside her prison that she was hungry. Natasha and Wanda had long left, citing some bureaucratic problem that was probably bullshit but, regardless of accuracy, left you and Bucky alone.

“What does she want?” the man asks, body still frozen as Squirt climbs his chest.

“Butterfly wants to eat,” you reply while you grab one of the syringes with formula.

“Why can’t she eat from the bowl of food?” he asks. It’s not accusatory, just curious. It’s sweet, extremely so, and makes you realize that Natasha was right – this is good for him.

“At six weeks, most kittens are weened from their mothers or,” you pick Butterfly up and hold her against you as she suckles at the plastic nozzle. “In this case, syringes. But sometimes it just takes a little longer.”

Bucky hmms, turning his attention back to the kittens before he speaks again. “Do you want to get coffee?”

You swallow, looking at him look at Squirt. “Like…with you?”

Bucky nods as he sits up, the brave kitten now on his shoulder and several others vying for his attention. “I, uh,” he swallows. “Yeah. Coffee. With me. Like a, uh, a date. With me. Where we get coffee.”

You giggle a little, both at his flustered speech and at Butterfly’s post-feeding tiredness. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool,” is all Bucky replies, the both of you now focused back on the kittens.

Dammit, you think. Natasha was right again.

#bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fluff #maya tag #lukis writes stuff

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Note

This is so totally random and kinda silly but for whatever reason nessa seems like the type to knt like imagine her knitting grayson a blanket or something with their college logo on it for christmas or even a birthday present 🥺

It was the first Christmas season they were together: they hadn’t been an official couple for a full three months. The holiday season represented a much-needed break for both Nessa and Gray, as they pushed their hardest to swim through finals season. The last leg of the semester was particularly hard for Vanessa, as it was her first finals season of her college career. Her academic stress was coupled with the choice of whether to invite Grayson to her family’s Christmas celebration. She didn’t voice any of her inner turmoil out loud, afraid of offending Grayson or accidentally causing their relationship to move too fast. Her main fear was meeting his mother and interesting Grayson to her father: both seemed like big steps to take on such a sweet holiday. In the end, Gray and Nessa mutually decided that the best decision was to celebrate their own Christmas in early January: after they came back from break but before classes started.

The decision relaxed Ness enough to confidently handle her exams and cherish the last few days she had with Grayson before winter break. Truthfully, it was in those few days that they slept together for the first time. It was a magical period for both: no stresses, just each other, all day, every day. When they weren’t cuddled up near each other’s bodies, Grayson’s sweatshirts slowly found their way into Vanessa’s overnight bag. They came together to form a serene tranquility.

Ness was sad to leave Grayson for winter break, even though she knew it was what was best. She leaned her head against the window of her dad’s truck. She used a resigned tone to tell her father about her classes and reported on how her exams went. She picked up her head from the window to tell him about Grayson, “Dad, I promise- I really promise, you’d love him if you met him.”

She spent the holidays with her father, four older brothers, and their grandmother who Nessie affectionally called “Nana”. During the night, she was FaceTime Grayson and listen to his stories of Jersey shenanigans. During the day, she was playing referee for her brothers’ games of pick-up ice hockey but quickly grew tired of being tossed around and yelled at. She was laying on the couch, like a blob of a person, fiddling with her phone when her Nana walked in carrying a wicker basket with half a dozen balls of yarn.

“Hey Nan,” Ness looked up from her phone as her grandmother settled into an armchair.

“Nene,” her grandmother greeted her lovingly. The old woman slowly moved a wrinkled hand and tapped the armrest of the chair. “Why don’t you sit with me? Knit with me?” her voice creaked like the hinges of an old door, “It’s been so long since we talked, since you left for school.”

Vanessa’s heart swelled as she left the sofa to sit on the floor Infront of her Nan, “I miss talking to you too Nana.”

The old woman’s wrinkles folded apart to form a smile that wore the same curves as Vanessa’s. “Your father told me you’re seeing a young man, tell me- is he nice to you?”

Vanessa chuckled softly and nodded, “Yes Nan. Yes, he’s very nice to me.”

“Well that’s good,” her grandmother reached into the wicker bin to pull out two knitting needles and a ball of yarn, “You know, when I was your age, I made your grandfather a scarf for his birthday once. He wore it every winter, that was- until- your father spat up on it as a baby but that’s just par for the course I guess.”

Vanessa chuckled and rested her arms on the seat of the armchair, holding her head in her hand, “Tell me more about Pop-Pop.”

While her Nan shared her own love story, she planted the seed in Vanessa’s mind to make something for Grayson, something personal and special. Her Nan was more than happy to teach her how to pearl stich a blanket, taking the opportunity to chat with her granddaughter as the only two women in the house. Vanessa must have spent at least three hours a day working on that blanket to have it ready to give to Grayson by the time she went back to campus.

Nessa knocked on Grayson’s apartment door with a mitten-ed hand, while the other mitten tightly clasped the giftbag. Grayson had barely opened the door when she launched forward, hooking her arms around his neck and swinging her feet above the floor to kiss him. He kissed back sweetly and wrapped his arms around her back, picking her up so she wouldn’t fall. He smiled against her lips, “Hey there,” he scrunched his nose. Nessa’s feet blithely landed on the floor, “I missed you.” She set the giftbag down on his coffee table and started stripping herself of her mittens and pulling her sweatshirt overhead. She had just lifted it off her head when Grayson swooped in, grabbing her by the waist and kissing the side of her face, “I missed you, too.”

Vanessa squealed a happy sound and looked down to find a medium box wrapped in red foil paper with a golden bow on the floor, “Is that my present?” She looked at him with excited eyes that made Grayson blush while he nodded.

“Do you want to open it now?” He offered, picking it up off the floor.

Vanessa shook her head. She picked up the gift bag with Grayson’s blanket inside and held it out in front of her, “You go first!”

Grayson laughed and took the bag from her, “Ness, you didn’t have to.” He dropped to the couch, where Vanessa took a cozy seat beside him and intently watched his facial expression.

Grayson pulled it out of the gift bag and felt his bottom lip swell while he felt the soft yarn in his hands, “Ness,” his voice quivered, “Did you- did you make this?”

She bit her lip and nodded anxiously, “Yeah- I did. Do you think it?”

Grayson nodded and smiled from ear to ear. The only other people who gave him handmade gifts were his mother and his great grandmother. He took this blanket as a sign that Ness belonged on the same pedestal as the other most important women in his life. “I love it,” he stretched it out in front of him, holding the corners taught to inspect the patterns, “I like the colors. The tie-dye is really cool.”

Nessa’s mouth hung open for a minute, wondering if she should nod and lie about her intentions or tell him the truth, “Uh- well- it’s supposed to be,” she held out a hand awkwardly, pointing to different patches of color, “it’s the logo-see—here’s the,” she swooped a finger down, “actually- never mind,” she brought her hand into her hair, “I’m glad you like it,” she kissed his cheek and leaned her head against his shoulder when he brought an arm around her.

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virgilantejustice · 3 years

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A Winter’s Journey

Hi @turbovickiii!!!! I really hope you like this, your prompts really helped me get out of a rut, and I just really hope you enjoy this. And, of course, a merry Christmas!!

I don't believe I need to add any warnings, but let me know if I'm wrong.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange

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

The air was cold. Spitefully cold. Far colder than it needed to be.

Roman muttered to himself as he trudged through the full six inches of snow that covered the path to the cabin. Spitefully cold.

Why on earth they had decided to rent a cabin for Christmas was beyond him. It had been his idea of course, but that doesn't mean that the others should have /listened. Why didn't one of them point out that his car could break down halfway down the several mile long track through the middle of nowhere slap bang in the middle of a snowstorm?! Obviously that was going to happen!

But, Roman would be damned if he didnt make it to that damn cabin, even if he had to walk the four miles left. Again, an absolutely terrible idea, but Roman never was the logical one, and Logan was waiting for him there, and he couldn't wait to hear his beloved tell him what a total idiot he'd been.

Arms crossed firmly across his chest, teeth chattering, feet numb in their snow filled boots, Roman marched with a stony expression of (slightly exaggerated) grimness. He did think at one point that he should probably make a pun about romans, y’know, marching, get it? But the cold is freezing his creative flow! His brain was slowing down! He could practically hear Logan's voice in his ear telling him that he was being ridiculous, but he didn't care.

Finally, after several thousand years of trudging down that blasted track, Roman saw a wooden structure. Small, slightly run down, but it was shelter.

“Thank the Gods,” Roman breathed into his hands, the slight warmth making his hands feel a little less icy.

He breathed out again, deeply, through his mouth. There was just something about how the air seized the moisture that he exhaled and turned it into his own little cloud. For all his bitterness towards the bitter cold at that particular moment, Roman saw beauty in that little puff of mist. He saw beauty in most things, and certainly in every season, but there was something about winter that captivated him as he walked down the snow covered path. The crunch of the gentle flakes under his boots, the swirls of frost on the gnarled bark of the trees, the jagged lacework of cracks in every frozen puddle. To be fair, I suppose it is expected to see more beauty when your arduous voyage is nearing its end.

“See," he grumbled through chattering teeth, “we could work together, you beautiful bitch.” He was referring to winter, of course, because addressing an entire season is a perfectly normal thing to do, at least it is in Roman’s eyes.

It seemed to him that he quickened his pace in excitement when he saw the reddish-brown walnut wood walls, but in all honesty, that last straight was as painfully slow as the rest

He was practically falling over himself by the time he reached the heavy wooden door of the cabin, and he silently prayed that there weren't /two remote, wooden cabins down this road and the right one was actually a further two miles, because, well, just no.

Fingers too numb to turn the handle, Roman sort of just whacked his hands against the door, wincing when his brittle skin, dried out from the cold, cracked with each impact. He prayed again (wow, twice in a day after a lifetime of agnosticism, it's funny what the cold’ll do to you) that Logan had in fact already arrived.

“Good lord, what happened to you?!”

Logan opened the door, and, frankly, looked a little more shocked than was /strictly necessary (at least in Roman’s opinion).

“And a merry Christmas eve to you too, my darling,” Roman replied indignantly, gently pushing Logan out of the way and soaking in the warmth of the cabin. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes a fire crackled softly in the grate, casting warm, dancing patterns across the inside of his eyelids as he turned, exposing his whole body to the heat, like a pig on a spit, happy to roast for a while.

A hand on his arm roused Roman to open his eyes to meet a pair of bespectacled ones. He leaned forwards for some kind of hello kiss, but Logan stopped him with a warm hand to his chest and a raised eyebrow. Logan looked at Roman’s lips. “You're bleeding,” he said plainly, turning towards the corner of the room sectioned off by a countertop which they optimistically called the kitchen.

Roman peeked his tongue over his lips and felt a split down the bottom one. "So i am,” he said, equally as plainly (in proportion to their usual levels of exuberance, of course). The ice that had slowly begun to build up in his eyelashes was melting, and nature's own tears dripped down his face. He licked them from where they settled in the corners of his lips.

"Here," Logan said, handing him a damp paper towel, but when Roman reached out to take it, Logan clasped his hands with surprising urgency. "Your knuckles!" He said, looking increasingly concerned as Roman's icy fingers sucked the warmth from his own.

Roman looked down and was almost surprised himself that he hadn't been in some kind of fight, judging by the cracked and shredded skin on his hands.

"You should see the other guy," he chuckled, but Logan gave him a stern look.

"Hand cream and mittens," he said, somewhat absently as he began to look for the aforementioned items. "And for goodness sake get changed, you're soaked through."

"Care to help me with that," Roman smirked as he came up behind Logan and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Stop stealing my body heat and go!"

Rolling his eyes, Roman grabbed his bag and found one of the bedrooms (it wasn't hard, seeing as the two bedrooms made up half of the rooms in the house).

He rummaged through his rucksack, felt something soft and pulled. A pair of thick pyjama trousers, hoisted out by the ankle, were followed by a pyjama top that, by some cruel twist of fate (or perhaps Roman was just really bad at packing) did not match. Roman glared at the non-matching pyjamas as if it would make one of them change colour.

They did not change colour.

Disgusting.

Huffing and puffing, Roman pulled on the hateful garments, then shivered. Please say I packed a hoodie, he thought as he delved once more into the breach of his rucksack, once more, please easy I packed a hoodie.

His fingers touched something soft and he grabbed it and he pulled.

His bag pulled back.

He pulled harder, grunting with the effort, but his bag held on tight in its cruel game of tug-of-war.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, standing with his arms folded in the doorway, his tone incredulous.

“This fiendish bag won't yield my hoodie!” Roman glared at the bag for a moment longer before shivering again. “I’m cold,” he said quietly.

“Of course you are,'' Logan sighed, coming forward and, somehow, and with no effort on his part at all, extracted the somewhat stretched hoodie from the bag and threw it gently to Roman.

He missed Roman entirely, so Roman picked it up off of the ground and slipped it over his head, hiding the unmatched pyjamas.

“Come on, you ridiculous human being you, your hot chocolate is getting cold.”

“No! Not the cocoa! You fiend!” Roman addressed winter as a season again, leaving Logan standing in the doorway, a little perplexed, but let's be honest, not surprised to be so.

Roman wanted to drink his hot chocolate then and there (I mean, who wouldn't) but Logan maintained that it could be reheated and stubbornly pushed the lotion into Roman’s hands.

Logan glared until he had put on so much hand cream that his skin stubbornly refused to absorb any more, leaving a slick over his hands that Logan immediately shoved into mittens.

Roman winced at the strange, slimy feeling that that combination induced, but Logan continued to glare, so Roman quietly submitted.

"I've never felt more beautiful," Roman sighed, leaning back across Logan's legs and delicately resting the back of one slimy, mittened hand on his forehead.

"You're always beautiful," Logan said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from Roman's forehead and pretending not to be looking at him as his cheeks turned just a little but pink.

Roman didn't say anything. He thought he would, it seemed like the kind of time that he would, but he didn't.

---------

The rest of the evening was spent on the sofa. Roman finally got his hot chocolate, and Logan listened and nodded as he excitedly went on about some new idea or another, smiling in the right places as he had learned to do, but Roman could see that his eyes were somewhere else.

“What are you thinking about, my darling?”

Logan had a strange expression on his face, part confusion, and then a whole mix of other emotions that Roman couldn't quite make out.

“Why did you walk here?” he finally replied. “Virgil and Patton broke down in almost the same place, but they're waiting for a repair service. Why did you figuratively freeze yourself solid walking four miles through a snowstorm?”

Roman looked up at his lover's face, the harsh edges softened by the glow of the fire, and he genuinely felt his chest seize with the love for that ridiculous nerd that resided there.

“Because I knew that you would be here,” he answered plainly.

Logan let out one of those short, breathy laughs of incredulity and said, “you're a fool. I've fallen in love with a fool.”

---------

As the night crept in and the light faded, Logan read by the flickering light of the fire, as Roman had persisted that they should by no means turn on the lights. (the conversation went something like this:

“But it makes no sens-”

“But the aesTHETIC!”)

Roman began reading, but soon abandoned that in pursuit of just laying with his head in Logan's lap with his eyes closed. It was warm and quiet and Virgil and Patton still hadn't arrived, but apparently the repair person had just arrived and was giving them a lift.

The door opened with its characteristically deafening squeak, and Roman was just about to lift his head to greet his friends when he heard, “sshh! He’s sleeping!”

Feeling nice and sneaky, Roman decided not to pick Logan upon this just yet.

Virgil snickered, Patton squealed, the door closed.

“Don't say a word," Logan muttered dangerously.

"I didn't say anything, dude." Roman could imagine Virgil holding his hands up in surrender with a smirk and hand to pretend to shift in his sleep to hide a grin.

"You two are just so darn adorable!" Although clearly intentionally breathy, Patton’s excited words could barely be called a whisper.

A weight shifted on the sofa and Roman felt a new hand brush some of the hair from his face and tried extra hard to look as asleep as he possibly could. Patton, he was willing to bet. Virgil always preferred to fling his legs over the arms of the armchair across the room.

"He walked halfway here," Logan murmured, sounding fond, but ultimately unimpressed.

“Goodness gracious, the poor thing.”

“Idiot.”

Roman bit his tongue.

“This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!”

“If we don’t freeze to death first.” Roman heard Virgil clamber up from his chair, presumably in search of blankets.

“You gave it your best shot,” Logan muttered, just loud enough for Roman to hear (if he was awake of course). Roman decided that asleep people could still squeeze gently and affirmatively on people's hands, so he did. Logan didn't stop stroking his hair, so he figured that he got away with it.

“Could I have one too please my Spooky Sweetheart?”

“Sure thing. Logan?”

“No thank you, I'm evoking William Harvey at this precise moment.”

Silence.

“William Harvey? Civil War doctor? Bodies for blankets- you know what, never mind.”

Presumably Virgil came back with the (non-corpse, thanks for that image, darling) blankets, and the soft chatter slowly dissolved into gentle, steady breathing of sleep.

Roman suddenly felt a wave of contentment wash over him. Drowsily, he felt around for Logan's hand and brought it close to his face. It was warm. He heard Logan sigh somewhere above him, but felt his fingers gently cup his chin.

Real sleep crept closer and closer, and he knew that when he woke up, Christmas day would be ever so, ever so sweet.

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

Taglist (tellme if you want to be added or removed):

@celeste-tyrrell @uwillbeefoundtonight @stop-it-anxiety @soakinforsif @combine-the-kitchens @randomavengersquotes

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percywinchester27 · 4 years

Text

About a boy- Epilogue

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: Feels, mentions of physical abuse and child-trafficking. Did I mention feels?

Characters: Dean and Sam, Bobby, Jody, Cas, Gabriel, Benny and others.

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: This is it, guys! The end of the journey. Looking back, it feels pretty sweet to me. Thank you to everyone who read, liked and commented on the story. You guys kept me going! <3

My immense gratitude to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this story <3 You both are absolute gems and I love you!

About a boy masterlist

One year later

11th September 1995

“You idjits!” Bobby yelled. “You two had one job!”

Dean came running around the corner hoping that his face wasn’t too red, or hair too messy. The one time he got lucky with Jessie Rosenberg, Bobby had to yell for him.

“What now?” He asked, crossly.

“Look at the fascia,” Bobby pointed. “I asked you to fix that thing two weeks ago. Does it look fixed to you?”

“Sam had exams! He barely pulled his head out of the books!”

“And you could have fixed it by yourself.”

Dean looked at the front yard. The tables and pretty lights hanging over the trees transformed it into something completely else. There were frilly table cloths and blooming, pale roses. Even the cars had disappeared. There were so many people milling around in pretty dresses and buttoned up suits. Looking at that no one would be able to tell most of them were cops. And none of those cops were inspecting the case of disrepaired fascia boards.

“C’mon, Bobby,” Dean said. “It’s your wedding. Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife instead of yelling at unsuspecting boys? You don’t even care about awnings and fascia!”

Bobby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was actually looking a bit funny without the usual baseball cap and the jacket. Though Dean couldn’t say the formal suit look didn’t suit him. He was just not used to seeing it.

Bobby sat down on the porch steps. “Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m just nervous.”

Dean sat down besides him. “Why’re you nervous? I mean you’ve known Jody forever.”

Bobby made a disgruntled noise. “It’s not that. Everything is moving so fast. You’ll be seventeen in a few months and then Sam will grow up, too. I’ve just gotten so used to you boys being around. Who knows what’s next. College? You both will move on.”

“Oh, come on!” Dean groaned. “Don’t go all sappy on me now. Not you, too!”

“Who else?” Bobby raised his eyebrow.

“Sam,” Dean sighed. “He’s having one of those days again.”

‘One of those days’ was the term Dean and Bobby used to describe Sam’s mood when he felt overwhelmed. During the first week, after Sam had moved in with them, little things startled him. Like how there were no restrictions about bedtime, or how he could choose what food he wanted, and when he wanted to eat. On the first Sunday, Jody surprised them all with movie tickets; Sam was quiet the whole way because he had never been to movies before. The next day they went out to eat. That was a rare phenomenon anyway, but Jody wanted to get to know Sam. Even there he hadn’t talked, barely eaten anything.

That night Dean had found him sitting on the roof.

“You know that Bobby would butcher you if he found you freezing your ass out in the cold, right?” Dean asked, easing himself down on the tiled roof.

“I’m being a shithead, aren’t I?” Sam said, hiding his face in his arms where they were resting over his knees. “Jody was being so nice, and I just… I screwed up everything.”

“You didn’t screw up shit,” Dean said firmly. “Jody is a lot tougher than you think. You didn’t hurt her feelings. Hell, you should have seen when she was getting to know me…. That was what being a shithead is like.”

“What did you do?”

“The usual. Threw bitchy tantrums, punctured her car and all that.”

“No you didn’t!”

The incredulous look on Sam’s face was hilarious. It was still taking some getting used to; thinking of him as Sam and not Will.

Dean put his hands out, gesturing a ‘yours truly.’ “Yeah, it was a total dick move. It didn’t phase her in the slightest.”

“Mhmm…”

“Don’t worry about it so much, Sam,” Dean said. “We know this is hard for you.”

Sam leaned back against the tiles, staring into the night sky. “You can actually see the stars from down here.,” he said wonderingly. “See that? That’s the first star of the constellation Orion.”

“I suck at stars,” Dean said, leaning back next to his brother. “You’ll have to tell me.”

They lay like that for a long time, Sam talking avidly about all the constellations he knew of, and Dean pretending that he did not.

Bobby gazed ahead into the yard, where Jody was laughing with Sam. He was dressed just like Dean in a matching tux; for the two groomsmen. Bobby’s eyes softened. “That kid really is something. Anyone would have lost their goddamned gourd after going through all that,” Bobby said.

It was an understatement. Sam had become the apple of every teacher’s eye. He aced his classes effortlessly and the town people just loved him. The little, stupid ray of sunshine that he was.

“C’mon.” Bobby said, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve got something for you kids.”

“What?” Dean asked, getting up.

“Just c’mon.”

Ten minutes later, the four of them, Him, Sam, Bobby and Jody were walking towards the very back of the house. Jody was practically bouncing on her feet which was so uncharacteristic of her.

Sam gave Dean a ‘What’s happening?’ look.

Dean shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“Hey, Bobby, quick question,” Dean said casually. “Are you two gonna bury us in a corner of the property? Cause this sure looks like it.”

“Yeah, sure, smartass,” Jody grinned at him. “I’ll make sure no one finds the bodies.”

Most of the cars had been parked out here, clearing the front yard. Only one car stood out, parked separately. She was so sleek and slender, the black metal almost purred.

“Holy shit!” Dean whistled. “What in name of…”

“It’s yours!” Bobby smiled widely. “It’s a 1967, Chevy Impala.”

“Wait!” Dean said, the realisation suddenly hitting him. “This car is from that picture. The one with mom and dad.”

“It belonged to your dad. He called her baby.”

Dean looked at Sam who had the same awed expression on his face.

“Where was it all these years?” Sam asked.

“Parked at Rufus’,” Bobby said. “Been working on it as and when the money and time came by. I wanted it done before the wedding. He drove it back today.”

Dean ran his fingers along the side of her, and the car seemed to respond to his touch… hummed under it.

Bobby held out a set of keys. “What’re you waiting for? Don’t you boys wanna take her out for a ride?”

*********************************

2nd November 1995

It was a clear day. The sky was blue like in one of those vacation postcards. The engine was purring underneath him and a Led Zeppelin song was playing inside his car. Dean rolled the windows down, the air whipped Sam’s hair all over his face. He made a protesting sound and Dean chuckled.

This was perfect.

“You sure this was a good idea? Not the trip,” Sam said quickly. “Just sneaking out like this without telling Bobby?”

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam was ever the responsible one.

“Bobby will be fine. We’re almost there; and if we stick to the plan, we should be back home for dinner, and no one will be wiser.

Sam huffed. “I miss Cas when you get like this. He was the only one who could get you to listen.”

“Don’t you want to go?”

“Course I do. You know I asked for this!” Sam muttered.

Dean missed Cas anyway. Thinking about his best friend made Dean smile. Because of what he had accomplished- helped with exposing the trafficking racket- the state had given him a medal of valour, along with Benny and Gabriel. Deny had detached himself from the proceedings, asking Jody to never mention him in the official records. He wasn’t interested in medals and accolades. He had walked away with a miracle of his own.

The mayor, wanting to bask in the borrowed glory, had funded Cas’s education in a private boarding school for his last year of high school. From there, Cas had managed a full ride into the University of Texas. Benny had opted out to get a job under some chef… who knew he had that talent? And Gabriel was in the wind. Dean didn’t worry about Gabe, though. He would eventually surface as a millionaire in some years for all Dean knew.

Thinking about them always brought up bad memories along with the nostalgia. Memories about Andy and the Stynes. It was little comfort knowing that they had been put away for life… they deserved much, much worse. Dean was hopeful that other states might press more severe charges on the Stynes.

Despite what it had looked like, it turned out that Michael had been the only one who knew. His cronies had no clue what their dear leader had been upto. Dean couldn’t care less about what happened to Gary and others as long as he never saw their faces again. Michael had been tried as a juvenile, and the DA had asked for a reduced sentence on the grounds that he was the one who had finally led them to the warehouse. He would serve 3 years in confinement. Even after all this time, Dean didn’t know what to feel about Michael. He tried not to think about it much.

Cas though, called them at least once a week. More, if he could manage. He and Sam had road tripped to the University in the fall and spent a week with him. Cas had been ecstatic. Dean wasn’t surprised to know that his friend was majoring in sociology and behavioral sciences. If anything, he was proud. Cas would be spending the winter break with them in Sioux falls. Bobby had been cranky about having to repair their guest room, but Dean secretly knew he was happy for them all.

“We’re here!” Dean said, as they crossed into the town. Sam stared out of the window, palms flat against the glass.

Dean made a few stops to ask for directions, and then they were parked along the edge of the sidewalk.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Dean asked apprehensively. Nevermind that he was feeling heavy inside, he couldn’t let his brother see that.

Sam bit his lip, then nodded resolutely. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They stepped out of the car, and Dean wrapped his arm over his brother's shoulder. He’d gained a couple of inches during the summer, so Sam was both much shorter than him, and mad about it. ‘I’m gonna grow taller than you, one day,’ he’d say.

Dean didn’t know exactly where they were, so he and Sam walked together, searching and reading.

“Dean,” Sam said in a small voice. “They’re here.”

The headstones were laid side by side.

Mary Winchester

5th December 1954 - 2nd November 1983

Loving Mother and loving wife

And

John Winchester

22nd April 1954 - 2nd Novemeber 1983

Loving Father and loving husband

Dean tightened his grip on Sam’s shoulder.

“I think they would be proud of you,” Sam said, not taking his eyes away from the plain grey stones. They had weathered with rain and time, the writing had blackened over the years.

“Hey, you’re the smart one,” Dean said. The corner of his eyes were prickling. “If anything, they’d have been proud of you.”

Sam shook his head ever so slightly in disagreement. “You saved my life. Twice. You found me and kept our family going. You’re a freaking hero.”

Dean blinked his eyes in succession. He didn’t dispute Sam’s words. Not because he believed them, but because he didn’t trust his voice to be steady. He hadn’t even thought of getting flowers.

“You think we should say something?”

Dean shrugged, he didn't know what to say and he was bad with words.

“Okay, I’ll go first,” Sam said, then kneeled by their mom’s grave.

“Hey, mom. Hey, dad,” he said in that soft voice of his. “It’s me, Samuel William Winchester. Though Dean just calls me ‘Sammy.’ It’s annoying. He’s annoying!” Sam laughed nervously, like he was afraid of what their mom would think about him dissing his older brother like that. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you, to sit besides you… to ever have a family…. I do now, and it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. But I miss you. I’ve always missed you even when I didn’t know who you were.”

Sam cleared his throat, “I guess… I guess what I’m saying is thank you… for giving me the best big brother in the world. Dean’s awesome. I love you so much. All of you.”

He looked up then, tears swimming in his eyes and Dean placed a hand over his head.

They stayed there for a while, soaking the moment in. When it was time to go, Dean touched the cold stones, first his dad’s and then mom’s. He brought the fingers to his lips and kissed them in a discreet gesture.

They walked back to the car in silence.

When Dean started the engine, Sam gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Dean, for bringing me here.”

“Course,” he said, eyes on the road.

Sam settled back against the leather seat and hit the play on music. The song continued from where it had stopped-

….Cause I'm back on the track

And I'm beatin' the flack

Nobody's gonna get me on another rap

So look at me now

I'm just makin' my play

Don't try to push your luck, just get out of my way

'Cause I'm back

Yes,…

“Let’s get back home now,” Sam said contentedly, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the song.

Dean gave his brother a sideways glance. He had a small smile playing on his lips. In their dad’s old car, with his brother by his side, Dean was already home.

*********************************

Source for the gif used at the top

A/N 2: I cried while writing the epilogue, too! Especially the last part. When I started writing this series about a year ago, I did it as a challenge to myself... deep down knowing that this wouldn’t ever hit off on tumblr like my other series’ had. But I owed it to myself to write a story I believed in, and the love that you guys gave this series was so overwhelming. Y’all ROCK! :*

Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter?

Tagging for the last time:

@sdavid09 @deanssweetheart23 @blacktithe7 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @cosicas-cuquis @chalicia @anathewierdo @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectteamfreewill @firefly124-writing @spnbaby-67 @hoboal87 @rizlow1 @donnaintx @starmission @gh0stgurl @tftumblin @emily-a-c11 @ericaprice2008 @jotink78 @charliebradbury1104 @ohgodwhybloggg @i-dont-get-cold @bobbie3939 @samsexualdeancurious @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @cookiechipdough @wildfirewinchester

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #weechesters #supernatural fanfiction #aab epilogue #Ana writes aab #anawrites #anawritesspn #q

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 4

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing and drinking

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Catch up with Chapter 3

Tomorrow was the start of a short break before the whole production moved to Vancouver for filming. You had been to Canada for work before, but that had always fallen in the summer or early fall. This would be your first time there during the winter months, but you weren’t worried. You were from the Midwest. You even had your own winter coat since you often went home for the holidays. It was already in your suitcase ready to go. Not that anything else was packed, but technically, you had almost two weeks to get it done.

Chris hadn’t come by since the day of the love scene with Maggie. Or rather the day he practiced his moves on you. Okay, so it had been one day, but still, he didn’t come by with your afternoon treat yesterday and you were a tad disappointed. During treat time as you dubbed it, the two of you would talk. It was nice. You had to admit, he was smooth and you pretty much had a full fledge crush on him at this point. But nothing could happen there. You were “engaged” and would be for the foreseeable future. Besides, he has such a charming presence, there was no doubt in your mind that he didn’t come off as flirty to everyone else as well.

It was nearing four and most people had closed up shop at the studio. Offices were cleaned up and you were told the soundstage was a well. Everything that was needed was packed in large crates bound for Vancouver. You had spent the majority of your day going over notes and polaroids of costumes. Any costumes that were shot in the interior scenes that also were being shot outdoors had to be accounted for. That’s when your meticulous notes came in handy. It was always the accessories that got left behind, but you were on hand to make sure that didn’t happen.

You had popped into your office to grab Mr. Fern, your laptop, and your bag because you were finally on your way home. Just as you were about to shut the lights off, your phone dings with a text. Setting everything back on your desk, you dig out your phone and see you have a text from Chris.

Chris: Are you still at the studio?

You sat down in your chair and quickly replied.

Y/N: Just leaving. What’s up?

Chris: I’m going to stop by. Don’t leave.

Y/N: That sounds like a threat Evans.

Chris: …

Your fired off a text to Joanna to let her know you might be a few minutes late. The two of you were having a good old fashion sleep over to kick off your “winter break” as she liked to call it. Ian would still be home, but apparently, he was banished to the basement for the evening.

“Knock. Knock,” Chris says as he actually knocks on your open door.

“Hey you,” you answer.

He’s got one hand behind his back as he enters, but doesn’t sit.

“I, uh, got you something special.”

He seems nervous because he’s not exactly making eye contact and he’s fidgety. This is a strange turn of events because generally you’re the one that’s nervous around him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, leaning back further in your chair, clearly enjoying this side of Chris.

His arm moves from behind his back. Resting on a napkin is a snowman shaped sugar cookie with white frosting, black dots for eyes, and a blue hat.

You break out in a huge grin as he places the cookie in your open palm, before taking a seat in your other chair.

“Took me three bakeries before I found that. Sure, everyone has sugar cookies, but not frosted ones.” He seems to relax a little, rubbing his hands on his thighs before taking in your grin.

“Thank you. Really. This is such a nice surprise.” You place the cookie on your desk and then look back at Chris. “Is it bad I want to eat it right now?” you ask.

Chris shakes his head and laughs. “Please do.” Crossing his arms and looks at you pointedly.

You take a large bite and set the remaining cookie back on the napkin. It’s surgery and sweet with just a little bit of crunch. Shutting your eyes appreciation.

“Right for the head I see,” he says with a smirk.

You throw him a wink and lick your lips. “This.” You gesture to the cookie. “Is perfect.”

“Glad I could finally follow through on your demands,” he jokes.

You sit forward in your chair and lightly slap his knee with the back of your hand. “Demands,” you mutter shaking your head.

He chuckles but then straightens up.

“Can I talk to you about something?” he asks. He’s all serious all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?” you asked.

“I just wanted to apologize for the other day,” he started. Your brow furrowed; the confusion evident on your face. “When you were helping me with that scene. I think I crossed a line. I know I crossed a line.” He looks down at his hands for a moment before looking up to meet your eyes. “Shouldn’t of point my hands on you. You’re engaged and it wasn’t right for me to hold you like that. You’re not an actress, so it’s different. I’m sorry.”

Apparently being shocked into silence was a real thing. How do you respond to that? It doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with sad eyes.

“Chris, honestly I didn’t think anything of it. We were working and sometimes actor need that hands on if you will, visual to understand what is needed. Travis works in the industry, it’s not a big deal,” you explained.

He gave you a soft smile but remained quiet. You slapped his knee again and then leaned back in your chair.

“Quit being weird,” you said.

He faked a scoff which had you rolling your eyes. “Not being weird,” he pouted.

“We’re friends, right? At least I like to think of us as friends.”

Chris grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “We are,” he nodded his head.

Despite being told Ian would be banished to the basement, he spent most of the night with you and Jo. She was still in the very early stages of her pregnancy, but that didn’t stop Ian from waiting on her hand and foot. You also took advantage of this new found man servant by asking for a fresh drink and snacks anytime he got up.

“You’re a stinker. You know, he’s going to get you back for this when he realizes I can get my own water,” Joanna said.

“Oh, I’m sure. I’ll just buy him a beer and all will be forgiven.”

“You know him too well.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you grabbed the remote from her lap and changed the channel until you found the Food Network channel.

“If we keep watching crap like this, I’m going to be as big as a house before I even officially start showing,” Joanna snarked.

“It’s either this or Bravo and I know you hate that more. Pick your poison babe,” you said.

The short winter break from filming included lots of sleeping in, cleaning, and shopping. It also found you with your hair back to its normal shade. Visiting the mall for the third time this week wasn’t part of the plan, but you needed a few cozy sweaters for those long days on set. Luckily you were able find plenty of options, even in California. Along with the sweaters, you purchased a pair of cute but warm winter boots and a few pairs of warm socks. Somehow it all fit in your suitcase and carryon bag. Nothing like waiting last minute to pack. Your flight was in the morning and you were feeling unprepared. All your bills were set to auto withdrawal from your account and Mr. Fern was dropped at Joanna and Ian’s yesterday. You just couldn’t shake that feeling that you were forgetting something.

The studio set everyone up in a total of two hotels. Monica was your roommate which you were fine with. The two of you were kind of friends. Neither of you had hung out outside of the job but you got along and had similar working styles. Work friends. The two of you were work friends. You had heard but didn’t know for sure that Keanu and Chris had both elected to rent houses for the duration of filming.

Filming was expected to wrap in two months, maybe a bit more. You knew you’d be in Vancouver for a month and a half. David was convinced it would be two months. Those with families or extra cash flow would go home when there were three day breaks which was set to happen twice during your time there, but you would be sticking it out. Not that you couldn’t afford to fly home, but rather you wanted to enjoy a new city, even if it was covered in snow.

After dropping your bags in your room for the next six weeks or so, you took a shower, dug out your boots and gloves and decided to find somewhere to eat. Monica hadn’t arrived yet so you were heading out on your own. The first meeting wasn’t until the next afternoon, so she decided to fly out later in the day.

Stopping at the front desk, they handed you a map of the area and circled a few restaurants they recommended that were in walking distance. You decided on a coffee shop that served hot panini sandwiches as well as wine and beer.

The coffee shop was rather large, definitely larger than it looked from the outside. Several small two-seater tables sat side by side with a mix of chairs that did not go together, but somehow worked. The shop had rows of windows on two sides of the large room. Both sides were lined with bench seating littered with colorful throw pillows and a large bookcase next to the door. You would keep this place in mind for when you needed an escape from the confines of the hotel.

Deciding on a turkey with swiss along with a local brew, you waited by the pickup window for your name to be called. It only took a few minutes for your order to be up, so you didn’t have to wait too long. The sandwich was good as well as the beer, so you know you would be back. Your meal came with a bag of kettle chips that you stuck in your purse to snack on later. Waving goodbye to the staff you decided to head back to the hotel to unpack.

Opening the door to your room you were surprised to see Maggie rather than Monica.

“Crap. Did they give me the wrong room number?” you asked.

She stifled a laugh and shook her head, getting up from the wingback chair in the corner. “No, I’m just waiting for Monica to get out of the bathroom. We’re heading to dinner,” Maggie said.

Oh. Apparently, you’re not the only one to make friends with the talent.

A second later Monica came out of the bathroom with her makeup bag in hand.

“Oh hey,” she said.

“Welcome to Canada,” you said with a smile.

Yeah, this wasn’t awkward at all.

“We’re going to grab something for dinner. Do you want to come with?” she asked.

“I just ate. Thanks though. You two go have fun,” you replied.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m totally stuffed.”

Maggie waved goodbye as she opened the door while her and Monica slipped out.

This is what you wanted though. It was part of your rules to get that fulltime contract with the studio. You’re not here to make friends. Chris didn’t count. It wasn’t like the two of you were hanging out outside of work. Your office didn’t count as a true hangout, so he totally got a pass. Besides, you wouldn’t see him again once filming wrapped. So, Monica and Maggie can be friends, that just takes the pressure off of you. Yep, you are totally okay with this.

After the large meeting where everyone was required to attend, all you wanted to do was find your office, or cubical rather, and get organized. David had other plans. After setting your notebooks and pens on your desk, David was at your cubical wall. The not having an actual door was going to take getting used to. Technically it was nicer than an office cubical, it was twice the size and they were spaced out with large potted plants in between for “privacy”.

“Alright, grab your bag, we are out of here!” David says, arms crossed, leaning on your cubical wall.

You gave him a questioning look, not budging from your chair. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“We are going out for drinks. I suppose we’ll eat too.”

Now you were really intrigued.

“Does your wife know you’re taking me out?” you say with a raised brow.

He laughs nervously and then clears his throat. “Let me rephrase that. You and I will be joining others for drinks. Now, lets go,” he says clapping his hands together.

“David, I’m tired and I just want to get settled before tomorrow.”

“We all have a late call time, you’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to get set up and settled. We’re here for the long haul kid,” he said.

“Kid, pfft,” you echoed.

“The car’s waiting. Chop. Chop,” he says with a smile.

Three drinks later, you were plenty relaxed. The group at the bar was larger than you anticipated. Besides you and David, there were couple of writers, a few from wardrobe, a couple of the camera operators, and Monica, who brought Maggie. The person you weren’t expecting to see when you were at the bar grabbing round four for you and David was Chris and his PA Tyler. He walked in with a hooded sweatshirt and Bruins ballcap down low, but he was still easy to spot.

You shuffled your way back to the table, two beers in hand.

“That for me?” Chris asked.

“Shouldn’t you be buying me a drink Evans?” you sassed.

He squeezed in across from you, others scooting down to make room. He takes off his hat, dropping it on the table and then runs his hands through his hair.

“How about I get next round?” he asked.

Nodding your head, you gave him a wink.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken Chris up on that fifth round because you were soundly very talkative. At least you weren’t a grumpy drunk, but learning to sit quietly and let others talk would probably aid you in the long wrong.

Monica was talking about the last guy she dated. Something about how he had to see her every single night. It appeared to be a funny story because everyone was laughing and she apparently had no shame about her love life. And at that point, you lost your damn mind.

“Ughhh,” you groaned. “I haven’t gotten laid in so long.”

Did you just die? Is that your body floating from above you right now? It has to be.

You look up from your drink to see all eyes are on you. Maggie giggles and David lets out a low whistle. Chris’ eyebrows are raised and his mouth is hanging open.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

“Aren’t you engaged?” Monica questions. She says it quietly, but everyone is looking at you, so you know they heard.

“Yeahhhh,” your drunk self spits out. “I just meant that he was working when we were on break, so we never saw each other.” You shrug your shoulders and grab you glass taking a long drink. In reality it’s been more than eight months, so it does feel like forever.

Monica laughs and pushes on your shoulder. “Oh no, you haven’t had sex for two weeks. That’s such a long time,” she rolls her eyes.

You catch the giggles at that point but it seems to do the trick as conversations pick up. You can’t help but avoid Chris’ eyes for the remainder of the night.

Here you are on day two in Vancouver breaking all your rules. Drinking with co-workers and getting too personal. You really needed to rein it in.

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eskalations · 4 years

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"This is about my pride, Riza." Roy reasoned, taking a few steps closer to her desk. His palms were up, as though it was the simplest explanation in the world. "If Rebecca knew I was incapable of this, she'd never let me hear the end of it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: Alright, fam - this was tough. I don't know WHY this was such a hard chapter to write, but it was. I had a rough week at work, so my writing muse wasn't as strong as usual. That being said, I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. I hope that despite that, and any other mistakes there are, that you still at least find this chapter somewhat readable.

Also, fun fact, that I forgot to tell you last chapter. I've always considered Xingese, the equivalent of Chinese in the FMA universe - so, when Elizabeth refers to her little sister as "Mae Mae", it's actually a reference to the Chinese term "Mei Mei" which means "little sister".

Thank you so much for reading!

"Of all the times we spoke of hell, this is not what I imagined – "

At Riza's unimpressed look, Roy clamped his mouth shut. He knew his dramatics were not going to earn him any positive points with his wife at the moment. She was far too tired to deal with his own childish commentary.

" – however, I would do anything to keep my wife and daughters happy." Roy finally finished – a near visible sweat drop forming at the start of his hairline. At the change of conversational direction, Riza gave him a dubious look from over the documents in her hands.

"You're sure you can handle it?"

"No," Roy answered quickly, too quickly for a man who was usually so confident. "But I don't see any other choice."

"I could ask Rebecca – "

"I would rather you didn't."

With a single blonde brow raised, Riza regarded her husband in confusion. "I don't understand why you're so against – "

"You're acting like a child, Roy."

"No," Roy patted his chest, quite a sight in his military blues. It was almost amusing how seriously the Fuhrer was taking this. "I am acting like a man. A man does not back down from a challenge such as this."

Riza couldn't help the tired smile that appeared on her features at such conviction. "A challenge such as a sleepover?"

Her husband gave her a withering look. "Don't say it like that, you make it sound ridiculous."

His petulant expression had laughter bubbling up in Riza's throat. The sound caused Roy's heart to soar. She hadn't been laughing much in the past few months, so it was nice to hear such a happy sound coming from her lips – even if it was still tinged with exhaustion.

Before Riza could respond, she was interrupted by a cry coming from the makeshift crib that lay in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, the First Lady of Amestris was on her feet and comforting the child that lay within the soft pink blankets.

The scene had Roy sighing in defeat. The main reason for their current dilemma was the same precious bundle that was now being cradled by her mother.

Mae Mustang had certainly turned their lives upside down.

Winter had come and gone, and with it, so had the illnesses that pestered the Mustang household all season long. Following the solstice, it seemed like the girls came down with a new round of sniffles every week. Nothing hit the family near as hard as the flu that had preceded the solstice – however, both Roy and Riza had certainly had their hands full with both their daughters and their duties.

On top of all the sickness in the house, Riza's moods had not improved much over time. With an extremely colicky baby, the woman had felt as though she were doomed to never get a normal night's sleep ever again. She was quick to anger and extremely lethargic – two things that no one who was part of their circle had ever known her to be.

Once she had brought up the issue with her doctor, the woman assured her that it was a normal to feel this way after some pregnancies. Given the fact that Mae was also a very fussy baby, it was to be expected that she would feel like she was at her wit's end for the first few months of her youngest daughter's life.

Though her words had been unconcerned and gentle when she had spoken with Riza, Roy would never forget the serious expression she gave him as she pulled him to the side.

'Keep an eye on her,' she had said with concern evident in her eyes. The soft warning in her tone was enough to have Roy breaking out into a nervous sweat.

He had already been concerned, but after that, he was really concerned.

That was why, nearly four months after their second daughter's birth, Roy insisted that Riza continue to work from home. While Riza normally would have argued against this, wanting to be as close to Roy as possible at Central HQ, she had simply nodded and agreed that this arrangement was her best option for now.

While working from home, the First Lady was able to sleep in and attend to her infant daughter throughout the day. Roy had suggested hiring a nanny temporarily, just to give Riza more time on her own – however, that idea had been quickly shot down by his wife.

'Are you saying I'm incapable of taking care of my own infant daughter?' Riza had snapped at him, absolutely appalled by the suggestion. Knowing that his wife was wrought with insecurities when it came to her parenting, Roy had dropped the subject rather quickly after that.

The man hated feeling useless, but there was only so much he could do to help his wife when he was several blocks away at Central HQ. The woman refused to let him tend to their daughter at night, citing that he needed his rest in order to attend to his duties as Fuhrer. Thus, that left Riza to take care of everything, from night feedings to bathing their young, infant daughter.

In the middle of all this was poor Elizabeth, who was certainly beginning to feel slighted by all the attention that was being given to her sister. Though she had always loved the baby and wanted to be around her whenever she was home, Roy could see that the tolerant child was beginning to grow weary at the lack of attention she was receiving from her usually doting parents.

Hence, the sleepover.

Elizabeth's birthday had always been cause for great celebration in their household. While typically they held a party with both friends and family alike, Elizabeth had requested something different this year. Though her time spent with the Elric and Havoc children had been nice, she wanted to invite her own friends over from daycare for a different kind of party.

A sleepover party.

The idea was foreign to both Riza and Roy. Riza had never concerned herself with birthdays during her adolescence, since her father thought they were nothing more than another day of life and that there was no real reason to celebrate them. Roy, on the other hand, had celebrated many birthdays during his formative years – however, despite having grown up with a multitude of foster sisters, was completely unfamiliar with the concept of a sleepover.

Though both her parents had been quite hesitant of the idea at first, Elizabeth's sweet little pout and tears had finally convinced them in the end. If this was what she wanted, then this was what she was going to get.

However, Roy had not expected that he was going to have to run this gig solo.

Three days before Elizabeth's sleepover – Mae had started showing signs of teething, and suddenly the sleepless nights of colic, became something a little more.

In the past several days, the frazzled mother had maybe gotten a total of three hours of sleep. Between keeping up with Mae's feedings and comforting her as she sobbed from both the pains in her stomach and her mouth, Riza had very little time to rest. Roy could see, as the days went by, that the usually dark circles under his wife's eyes, were continuously getting darker. Not only that, but the healthy glow of her peach-colored skin, had changed into a sickly pale pallor.

It was obvious. She was exhausted.

On top of all that, Riza was still performing her duties as Amestris' First Lady. She continued to move forward with her plans for the new school she was commissioning and had even kept up with the interviews she had scheduled to help with the hiring of its faculty.

Roy had no idea how she did it. He wasn't even sure how she found the energy to dress in the morning with all she was doing.

Hence, why he had offered to take over the planning and execution of their daughter's sleepover party. Though he seriously doubted his skills in this department, he would do whatever it took to give Riza a much-needed break.

Even now, as she cradled their youngest in her arms, Roy could see the weariness in the way she bounced their child in comfort. She had never looked further from her former self than she did now. The formidable "Hawk's Eye" – now beaten down from a rather rough patch of motherhood. It was unfair.

"I want to help you." Roy told her honestly, his voice soft as Mae's cries finally began to subside. He walked over to Riza's side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "If I'm already up with the girls, then that will give you some time to rest without having to worry about Mae."

"So, you're going to take care of Mae, too?" Riza asked, doubt evident in her words. She gazed down at their daughter – all blonde hair and dark eyes, before looking back up at him. "Are you sure it won't be too much?"

"I'm positive." Roy affirmed, rubbing a comforting hand over her back. Even through the thin material of her tapioca dress, Roy could feel the notches of her spine. She had lost more weight again. With this in mind, his resolve only grew. "Besides, I won't be alone. Breda and Havoc are going to help me."

Riza's brows rose to her hairline. "How?"

"I've dismissed my bodyguards for tonight, so they're going to stand in." Roy brought a hand up to rub a hand against Mae's fevered cheeks. "I know it's technically below their rank, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

The Fuhrer rarely made Captains Havoc and Breda his guards, unless there was something really important going on, such as the birth of his daughter. However, he had already asked the men if they could free up their Saturday night to assist him on a 'mission'.

Of course, he hadn't told them what that mission was – but Roy wasn't big on details. Besides, they weren't going to say no to their boss.

Riza shook her head at the idea. "You really think those two will be able to help you?"

Roy shrugged. "Possibly."

The woman rolled her eyes at her husband's answer. "I think you just want them to suffer with you."

"I'm wounded by your words, madam."

This had Riza laughing. Roy's chest puffed up at having made her smile again. Perhaps, this was the exact thing Riza had needed – a night off. Regardless of any of the torture he was about to face in the coming hours, Roy couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He would do anything to keep that smile alive on Riza's face forever.

"Okay." The woman finally agreed, the grin never leaving her face. "I appreciate it. I hope you know though, that if things get tough, you can come get me at any point in time."

"Trust me," Roy assured her, pulling her close to his side. "Everything will be fine."

Everything was not fine.

Sure, things had started out alright – but Roy was pretty sure that he would be completely grey by the end of the night.

For the first hour, Riza had stayed by his side as they greeted the parents of the little girls' who entered their home. Both parents, having always been very involved with their daughter's schooling, recognized many of the adults who usually stood outside Central Children's Daycare. Introductions were made and the children were sent up the stairs to be greeted by excited exclamations from the other little girls who were already there.

That was when things took a turn for the worst.

He had no idea his daughter had befriended a child of Ishvalan descent.

Now really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Elizabeth was incredibly loving and friendly, so any differences between her and others, were usually swept under the rug by the innocent mind of the unprejudiced child. Even after the situation with Miss Abra at the daycare, Elizabeth still knew nothing of the history her parents had with Ishval.

Roy and Riza had just been wishing one of the girls' parents farewell, when a hulking figure of a man walked through the door. His appearance had both the Fuhrer and his wife pausing – though it had nothing to do with his height or the rippling muscles that peaked through the fabric of his shirt.

It was the white hair and telltale red eyes that caused their greetings to catch in their throats. Not only that, but the stern look on the man's face made it obvious that he wanted to be just about anywhere else but there.

From behind his leg – a little girl poked her head out to look up at the parents of her friend. Like her father, the girl's hair was white as snow with eyes the color of blood. They shared the same dark features – except where there was an expression of near hatred on the elder one's face, the little girl's expression held nothing but hesitance.

Riza was the first to recover from her surprise. Behind her, Roy could hear the sound of Breda and Havoc shuffling, as though preparing for a fight.

"Hello," Riza spoke softly, as she crouched down to the young girl's level, Mae still absconded in her arms. The child shrank back a bit behind her father's leg, but continued to stare at the pretty blonde woman before her. "What's your name?"

The girl had just opened her mouth to answer, when a flurried set of footsteps made their way down the stairs.

"Etha!"

From out of nowhere, Elizabeth scurried past her parents, already sporting her light pink pajamas. Disregarding her friend's timid disposition, the Fuhrer's daughter tugged the girl from out behind her hulking father's leg and pulled her into a tight hug.

At his side, Roy watched as Riza stood from her crouched position, ready to reprimand her daughter for being so rough with her friend – however, her words died in her throat.

Etha was smiling.

"Hi Lizzie," The young girl's voice was much quieter than her friend's, but just as excited. "Thank you for inviting me."

Elizabeth pulled back to smile at the girl. Standing together, they couldn't have been more different. With Elizabeth's hair dark as night and eyes nearly the same shade, she was a stark contrast to her white-haired and red-eyed friend – yet, none of those differences seemed to change the way they regarded the other.

The girl's father, on the other hand, seemed almost hyperaware of the differences between the girls in front of him.

At the top of the stairs, the five other girls who had already arrived, called for both Elizabeth and Etha to make their way up to the second floor. They were shouting about something that had happened on the popular children's radio show Roy had already set up for them to listen to.

"Come on, Etha!" Elizabeth tugged on the other girl's hand, dragging her over towards the stairs. "It's the good part!"

The little girl went to follow her friend, holding tightly to one strap of her backpack. Before she started her ascent up the stairs, she turned around to throw her father a quick smile and wave.

"Bye, Daddy!" Etha called as she was hauled up the staircase by her overenthusiastic, newly six-year-old friend. As they reached the top, the other girls squealed before grabbing their hands and tugging them back towards the nursery.

The three parents watched the two children as they were dragged off by the others, an awkward silence hanging over them following the exit of their respective daughters. Once again, Roy could hear Havoc and Breda shift nervously in their boots at the tension that seemed to engulf the room.

"I expect her to be returned in one piece."

The man's voice was deep, the sound of it rumbling in his muscular chest. The threat laced in those words went without being said, and while Roy wished he could be offended by such a vicious accusation, he couldn't say the man's worries were born from nothing. What he had done in Ishval could never be erased from the minds of those who had been made to suffer because of his actions.

"Of course, sir." Riza responded easily, though Roy could hear the tightness in her voice. She too was upset by the man's words. "Etha will be treated just as any other child in our home."

The man glared at Riza, as though measuring her words for any sign of deception. Roy could feel his spine straighten and fingers twitch at such a threatening stare. Although the Ishvalan father had many inches over him, Roy would not hesitate to defend his wife should it come to it.

Lucky for him, such a fight was not to transpire that night.

Without so much as introducing himself, the man turned on his heel and made his way out of the house. The door slammed behind him, causing all four adults left in the room to jump at the loud sound.

"Well, boss," Havoc drawled, walking up to his two old friends with a toothpick between his lips. "That went quite well."

Roy glared at the man, raising a dark brow in challenge. "I would really hate to know what you consider bad, then."

Havoc smirked in Roy's direction. "A pancake-shaped Fuhrer."

Breda tried to hide a chuckle behind his fist, feigning a coughing spell instead. At his two subordinates' behavior, Roy rolled his eyes.

"I know you two are upset that I didn't tell you what was going on tonight – " Havoc gave him a look that clearly said 'you think'. Roy ignored this and continued on. "However, I expect you to remain professional just as always. Keep in mind, this is a very important mission."

"It's a sleepover."

"It's a girl sleepover." Havoc corrected Breda, gesturing wildly at their military blues. "And here we are, decked out as though we're facing ole' Bradley."

Riza butted in, quickly – cutting off her husband's surely snide remark. "If it's really that much of an issue, I don't mind taking care of it."

Both Breda and Havoc went silent at this. From beside Riza, Roy was glaring at the two men, his eyes telling them that they better not accept such an offer. Both soldiers knew better, though. They had seen how different Riza had been upon their trips to the house, they knew she needed this reprieve more than anyone.

"Nah, Riza." Breda finally said, sending a supportive smile her way while shoving his hands into his pants' pockets. "Like I've always told you, we'll do anything for you."

Havoc nodded, agreeing with his friend's words. "Even if it means putting up with a few female brats for a couple of hours – we'll do it if it's for you."

Riza smiled gratefully at the two men, while Roy's expression turned sour.

"Are you saying you wouldn't do this for me?"

"Nope."

"Not at all."

Such insubordination had the Fuhrer's eye twitching – however, a loud bang and a yell from upstairs caused a pause in the conversation. Before any of them could react, a round of giggles broke out, the sound traveling down the stairs. Roy groaned at the thought of what that noise could have possibly been.

Riza was about to say something, when Mae began to fuss from her place in her mother's arms. Roy gestured for her to pass the baby over, but Riza shook her head.

"Let me bathe her and feed her before you take over." The woman bounced her daughter, as her fussing got louder. "That way you'll have an easier time putting her to sleep."

Roy was going to make a comment on how nothing seemed to help Mae sleep, even after four months of life – however, Riza had already started to make her way up the stairs. Even from his spot on the ground floor, the Fuhrer could hear his wife cooing at their daughter as she rounded the corner towards the master suite.

"So," Havoc drawled, clapping a hand on his boss's shoulder. "Is there a reason you didn't employ Becky to help you with this little venture?"

Roy glared at the man behind him. "Shut up, Havoc."

If Roy thought that the night couldn't get any worse than the awkward interaction that had kick-started the party, he was sorely mistaken.

The cake cutting had gone alright, besides a few cases of dropped icing and misplaced forks. One of Elizabeth's friends, Grace – if Roy was not mistaken – had shared offhandedly with the man as he passed her a piece of cake, that she was deathly allergic to nuts, causing Roy to pause in his action.

Elizabeth's cake was chocolate with nuts added into the icing of the middle layer.

Narrowly avoiding a potentially harrowing situation, the man had fished out a cookie from the pantry to give the girl instead while the other children enjoyed their cake. The small, blonde girl nibbled on her sugar cookie while telling Roy about the time she had nearly died after eating a sandwich that unknowingly contained peanuts. At the description of a swollen throat and difficulties breathing, Roy could feel himself growing pale.

Havoc simply laughed from behind him, watching as the Fuhrer's face grew more and more horrified. Breda would have laughed, too – however, he was distracted by his own piece of cake.

With that situation successful avoided, Roy actually felt like he was doing pretty good on his own.

After cake had been served, the girls had been redirected to the upstairs nursery. While Breda helped Elizabeth pick up her fallen dollhouse – the culprit of the loud sound they had all heard earlier – Riza entered the room with a freshly bathed Mae.

Upon the appearance of a baby, all the girls immediately turned their attention to the Fuhrer's wife.

"That's my sister, Mae!" Elizabeth told them excitedly, following the girls as they crowded around her mother's legs to get a better look. "I like to call her Mae Mae!"

Riza herself was already dressed in a pair of soft white pajamas with hair wet and cheeks flushed from her recent shower. Roy couldn't help but think she looked absolutely angelic as she began to approach him.

"She's all ready to go." The girl's mother said as she passed him the bundle of blankets. Mae didn't even fuss as she was transferred from the warmth of her mother to that of her father. "I've already fed her, so all she'll need is a good rock before bed."

"I can do that." Roy assured her, noting the worried look in her tired, amber eyes. "Go get some rest. I'll bring her to the cradle by the bed when we're done in here."

Though she still looked worried, Riza could not hide the near visible relief that suddenly flooded her body. Giving her husband one last grateful pat on the cheek, the woman kissed her young daughter's forehead, before taking her leave of the room.

Roy turned towards his men with Mae now cradled in his arms.

"So," He started, wincing visibly as Elizabeth and Etha squealed over something that had taken place over on the other side of the room. "I'm going to go put Mae to – "

"Uh, no you're not." Havoc reached out for the baby, his hands making a grabbing motion as though Roy were about to pass over a weapon. "You're staying here, boss. I'll take baby duty."

"If you hold her like that, you'll drop her!" Breda commented, also moving forward to get in on the action. The auburn-haired man didn't want to be stuck in the nursery with the young girls either. "At least give her to me, so she can rest in peace."

"Excuse me?" Havoc asked, turning to his friend, Mae completely forgotten. "What is that supposed to mean? I have four boys!"

"Which I have never seen you hold!"

"What?! That's bullshit!"

A chorus of tiny gasps caused the men to pause in their argument. Looking over to where the seven girls were crowded around the dollhouse on the opposite side of the room, the men were met with the shocked faces of each and every one of them. Havoc almost swallowed his toothpick in fear, scared to turn and see the dark look that was surely developing on the Fuhrer's face.

"Breda, take the baby."

Havoc winced at the Fuhrer's flat tone, not even turning to watch as Mae was placed in Breda's arms. The man made himself scarce as he opened the door to Mae's small room without even throwing a glance behind him.

While the girls continued to stare, Roy clapped Havoc harshly on the back. To the girls, it would appear to be a friendly gesture – however, Havoc knew better. Instead of retracting his hand after placing it on his subordinate's back, the Fuhrer continued to hold on to the fabric of his jacket.

"Hey, Lizzie?" Roy called out, prodding Havoc to step forward and towards the girls who were still staring in their direction. "Didn't you say earlier that you wanted to play doctor?"

Havoc gulped as a round of cheers erupted from the other side of the room.

He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Roy had thought that forcing Havoc to partake in a game of doctor with the girls would somehow end up saving him from a similar fate – however, he had been wrong.

While he was already worried that all Elizabeth's friends would go home and tell their parents that the Fuhrer had some very foul-mouthed subordinates, he was even more worried that Etha's father would come and pound him into the ground for allowing his daughter to be exposed to such language. After all, the Ishvalan people were very religious, and he couldn't remember a time when he had ever heard any of them curse.

So, to distract the girls from the word that Havoc had let slip, Roy went about helping them create a makeshift "stretcher" to put the very unhappy man on.

Serves him right, Roy thought to himself as he fluffed up Havoc's pillow a bit more aggressively than any medical professional ever would. The blonde Captain gave his superior a withering look.

"Really, sir?"

Roy shrugged, allowing the young girls to take over from there, already having gathered all their "equipment" to perform a successful "surgery". The man found it all very amusing, until a tiny tug at the bottom of his jacket had him turning.

"Mr. Fuhrer Mustang, sir?" A small, black-haired child, who he believed was named Abigail, was pulling on the fabric of his coat. "Aren't you going to play with us?"

Roy opened his mouth to say no, when Elizabeth – appearing out of nowhere – began to tug at him a little more aggressively than her friend. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Daddy come play!"

"Lizzie, I don't – "

"Yeah, Daddy." Havoc mimicked the voice of a young girl from his spot on the floor. Grace was sat on his chest with a plastic stethoscope, trying to listen to the man's heart. "Come play with us."

"Havoc," Roy warned as his daughter continued to tug on his hand, leading him over to a second "stretcher" that the girls had prepared. "I don't ever want to hear those words from your mouth ever again."

The blonde man rolled his eyes, wincing as Grace reached out to hold his lids open to shine a light into them. From behind her, a young Alice scribbled away on a notepad, appearing to take notes as Grace shouted out random observations to her.

Roy was forced to remove his coat as his daughter pushed him back on to the pallet. He was suddenly surrounded by Etha, Abigail, and Lizzie, all who had donned white robes from his daughter's closet to give them the appearance of medical physicians. Two sisters, Helen and Margaret, rushed from the room to go retrieve something from Elizabeth's craft table.

"Hurry!" Elizabeth shouted after them, taking her plastic stethoscope from Grace to listen to her father's own pounding heart. "We're losing him!"

Noticing the wide-eyed stare of her father, Elizabeth leaned down with her hands on her hips. The look she gave him was quite stern. "Daddy, you have to at least act like you're dying."

Having been on the brink of death many times before, Roy had no problem playing the part of a dying patient. After heaving a sigh of resignation, the man relaxed on his back with eyes closed, mentally counting down the hours before he could finally force the girls to go to bed.

Despite the flurry of activity going on around him, and the poking and prodding courtesy of his daughter, Roy was able to get pretty relaxed atop the pallet. After a long week of talks related to a skirmish with Aerugo along the border, the man was definitely ready for a long night of rest alongside his wife.

He almost allowed himself to get lost in the image of her soft, warm body against his – when something cold and wet landed squarely on his forehead. The sensation caused his eyes to pop open, only to be met with a curious blue pair.

Helen had returned with a wet cloth and had been instructed to place it on the Fuhrer's head in an attempt to "lower" his "fever". The girl was the youngest of the bunch and the smallest as well, following the orders of the older children as they continued to move around him in mock concern.

Before Roy could comment on the water dripping into his eyes, another cold, wet sensation made him pause at it made itself known through the fabric of his shirt. From across the room, he could hear Havoc let out a yelp of surprise, as well.

"Lizzie?" Roy asked, as he tilted his head up to see what his daughter had just put on his stomach. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he watched her draw a circle with red paint over the area where his burn scar resided. "Lizzie! Where did you get that paint?!"

"Shhhh," The girl warned him, never pausing in her actions. "Daddy, we have to save you. I'm performing Alkahestry."

Roy groaned, knowing his wife was going to be unimpressed with the state of his shirt when she caught sight of it. "Lizzie – please, be careful. We don't want the paint to spi – "

Before he could even finish his sentence, a gasp broke out from the girl beside his daughter. Margaret, the dark-haired sister to the young child keeping vigil by his head, looked down at the floor in horror. The red paint can that had caused Roy such weariness, was now lying over on its side, its contents covering both the sheets of Roy's pallet and the side of his blue pants.

All the girls went silent as they stared at the mess in shock. Then, suddenly, a wail broke loose from Margaret.

"I didn't mean to Mr. Fuhrer!"

Roy, still surprised by the spilled paint all over his pants, hurriedly sat up to comfort the crying child. "Margaret, it's okay."

"Please don't arrest me!"

"Margaret," Roy reasoned, careful not to shift too much, lest he displace more red paint on to the floor of the nursery. "I'm not going to arrest you."

"I don't know, Margaret." Havoc commented from his spot on the other pallet, looking quite amused by all of this. "He's a pretty mean guy!"

"Havoc!"

The man's words only had the girl crying harder. "I wanna go home!"

While all the girls rushed to comfort their distressed friend – Roy groaned, while laying his head back down on the pallet. He was really starting to consider enlisting Rebecca's help, when the cold, wet cloth from before was placed back on to his forehead.

Looking up, Roy noticed that Helen was the only child who hadn't rushed to help her sister. Instead, she had remained by the Fuhrer's side with a bowl of water and a cold compress.

Wait a minute…

"Helen?" Roy asked, trying to gain the girl's attention. "Where did you get that water from?"

The facets were high in the manor's bathrooms, making it almost impossible for a small child to reach them unless there was a stool present. Even then, Elizabeth still had trouble reaching the knobs of the sink without the help of one of her parents. It made Roy wonder how a child of such small stature could have filled a bowl under one of the bathroom facets.

Unless…

"The toilet."

Times like these, made Roy wish he had birthed boys.

Breda returned to the room to find both Roy and Havoc sat on the floor and covered in paint. If he noticed the reddish tinge of Roy's freshly washed face, he said nothing.

The girls had convinced Roy to do "pretty" braids in their hair, after having seen Elizabeth come to school with them on more than one occasion. It was one of the perks of having grown up with a multitude of sisters. It was definitely something Riza was thankful for, since she had little experience with hair that was not her own.

Currently, the Fuhrer sat braiding Margaret's hair, the young girl's tears finally dried after having had her friends calm her down. No longer scared of the man behind her, the girl had agreed to let him braid her hair. Elizabeth, who sat beside her with her dark hair already braided, pointed excitedly at something in the book that lay before them.

Havoc stood from his place on the floor to greet Breda, pointing towards the mess of sheets and paint on the floor. "Want to give me a hand?"

Breda didn't even ask questions as he walked over to assist his comrade.

"I think Felix is really cute." Grace was saying, playing dolls with both Alice and Abigail. Helen scooted over so that she could watch the scene unfolding. "We shared paints last week."

"Ohhhhhh!" The two other five-year-olds giggled, their faces flushed with the idea of young love. Roy couldn't help but hope it would be a few years before he caught his dear Elizabeth saying such things about the males in her class.

As it was, his daughter seemed rather preoccupied with her book, gesturing for Etha to come over so she could show her something as well.

Roy smiled at her actions. His daughter certainly took after both him and his wife – always curious and always learning. It wouldn't surprise him, if in a few years time, she approached him about wanting to learn alchemy. He still wasn't quite sure how to feel about that one.

Once all the girls had their hair braided and their sleeping mats had been set up, Roy employed Breda to read them all a bedtime story in an attempt to tire them out. Though, from the look of their drooping eyes, it didn't seem like the men were going to have any trouble getting the girls to sleep.

While Breda and Havoc acted out the scenes from a bedtime story, eliciting giggles from the young girls curled up on the floor, Roy went to go check on Mae.

The infant was resting peacefully in her room that lay adjacent to the nursery. Roy was surprised that the noise hadn't disturbed her – however, with all the crying she had done over the past few days, the man figured she was just about as tired as her mother was. Careful not to disturb her rest, Roy picked the girl up from her crib to transport her back to the master suite.

After depositing his daughter into the small crib in his bedroom, Roy returned to the nursery, surprised to find it quieter than before.

The sight that lay before him had the Fuhrer nearly bursting into laughter.

Havoc and Breda were sat in two small nursery chairs, snoring loudly with both their heads thrown back. From the looks of it, all the girls seemed to be asleep as well.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Roy made his way over to where his daughter lay in the middle of it all. The man leaned over quick, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of her forehead.

"Happy Birthday, Lizzie."

Roy was about to stand up once more, when a quiet, little voice had him pausing.

"Thank you, Daddy." Lizzie murmured before turning over, her new doll clutched tightly to her chest. It had been a present from her great grandpa Grumman.

"You're welcome, Lizzie." Roy replied, giving his daughter one last kiss to the head before turning the lights of the room off. With Breda and Havoc watching over them, Roy was sure the girls would be more than okay for the rest of the night.

After washing up and changing from his now ruined uniform, Roy was finally able to make it into bed to join his wife in blissful slumber. She had looked so cozy when he had moved Mae to their bedroom earlier, that all he had wanted to do was forego his nightly routine to join her.

Careful not to disturb Mae where she lay in her crib, Roy quietly reentered the room and made his way to the bed. After situating himself under the sheets, the man turned towards his wife and pulled her close to his chest, nuzzling his face in her hair.

Riza hummed tiredly. "How'd it go?"

Roy was too tired to explain the dramatics of the night. Instead, he pulled his wife closer and snuggled deeper into her embrace. "It went fine."

"Thank you." Riza kissed his chest tiredly, rubbing her nose against the skin there. "I needed a break."

"I know." Roy rubbed her back in comfort. "I certainly didn't mind giving you one."

Riza gave no response, already slumbering once more. Roy was just about to join her, when a shrill sound broke him from his semi-conscious state.

Mae had started to cry.

Fighting back a groan, Roy was just about to lift his head off his pillow when the door to his bedroom burst open and Elizabeth pushed her way through.

"Daddy!" The young girl exclaimed, ignoring the cries of her younger sister as she rushed over to her father's side. "Helen threw up on the floor!"

Now, Roy did groan.

He was really starting to hate sleepovers.

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #fullmetal alchemsit brotherhood #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai fanfiction #fma fic #fma fanfic #fma fanfiction

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dark-strangeson-virgil · 4 years

Text

Title: He Shines (Bright Like a Diamond)

Pairings: Moceit (Pre-Relationship), Backround Prinxiety (Pre-Relationship), Backround Intrulogical (Pre-Relationship), Backround Remile (Established)

Words: 4.4k

Janus totally wasn’t nervous. Not at all.

Okay, so maybe he was slightly nervous. It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s a simple school winter formal, and it’s only his sophomore year. Maybe dances will seem more important in his senior year, but for now they seem like nothing more than a few hours of fun, not to be taken too seriously. At least according to Janus.

So why could he feel his chest tightening?

He was going with his friends, so he didn’t have any date he needed to worry about impressing. He was a pretty good dancer, and high school dances barely involve any actual dancing anyways.

If he were being 100% honest, he was probably slightly nervous about his outfit choice. With Roman’s help (the two had spent a solid hour and a half on video call the night before choosing out outfits together, since they were easily the most extravagant of the group), he had chosen a yellow dress shirt, a black tie, black dress pants, and a glittery black vest. He knew it would draw attention to him, and he could see clear as day in his mirror that he looked absolutely fabulous in it. A year ago he would’ve had no doubts at all, sauntering into the dance with his friends confidently. However, a year ago he had not yet realized his absolute infatuation for one Patton Myron.

Rationally, Janus knew Patton would never judge him. Patton was an incredibly loving and accepting individual who loved to experiment with his own style, but this thought still couldn’t help Janus shake his nerves. Even Roman had tried to settle his mind while on their video call. He hadn’t truly known why Janus was as worried as he was but his attempts were at least a welcome distraction. He had elected to simply ignore the worried part of his brain, opting to channel his natural confidence and use it for all it was worth. He adjusted his hair one last time and swiped his keys off of his desk, running down to his car and clearing off his back seats.

They had decided on carpooling in smaller groups to the dance rather than all together, knowing that all of them packed into a small car would likely be too chaotic for the driver to handle. Janus was taking Roman, Remus and Virgil, while Logan had been tasked with transporting Emile, Patton and Remy. Sighing, Janus jammed his key into the ignition and began the short drive to the twins’ house.

He quickly turned on “The Playlist”, knowing it was the only way to prevent a fight over the music once everyone was in the car. While humming along to Fall Out Boy’s “Immortals” he allowed his mind to wander (while still watching the road of course), yet still carefully avoiding the topic of Patton. He could already imagine the stares he would receive once he arrives at the dance. People tend to stare at him often anyways, seing as the freckle concentration on the left side of his face tends to intrigue his peers. However, tonight his vest would hopefully grab attention in a positive way, and Janus truly did love attention.

He had never been to a school dance before so he honestly didn’t know what to expect. He had opted out of freshman year homecoming and winter formal, claiming to find dances “meaningless”, and prom was only for juniors and seniors at his school. His friends had begged him to go this year though, and their descriptions made the idea sound interesting enough for him to agree. If nothing else, he would have an enjoyable night with his friends.

As he pulled up to the twins’ house he messaged both of them, telling them oh-so-elegantly to “Hurry the hell up, we still have to grab Virgil.” As the minutes ticked by he began to get more irritated. Just as he was considering leaving them to find another ride he saw Roman emerge from the front door, Remus quickly following behind his brother. He glared at the two as they entered his car, Remus sitting in the passenger's seat and Roman opting for the back seat.

“And why, pray tell, did you take over twelve minutes to get out of your house after I explicitly told you to hurry?” Janus honestly wasn’t mad. If anything he was slightly annoyed, but he enjoyed messing with Remus and Roman just a bit.

“I was trying to drag Roman out the door, but he kept insisting he needed, ‘Just another minute to fix my hair!’” Remus offered, mocking his twin. Roman grumbled in the backseat, but made no move to argue.

“It’s probably for our resident emo. We all know Roman has a huge crush on him!” Remus practically shrieked, earning a chuckle from Janus.

“Shut up!” Roman shouted, voice slightly cracking as he reached to punch his brother in the shoulder.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right Remus. That’s obviously why he chose the backseat as well. More time to spend talking to his “Dark Prince” as he says.” Janus continued to tease the poor boy, leaving his face a lovely shade of crimson. Roman elected to stay quiet after that, instead going to text Virgil and let him know that they were on their way to pick him up.

The three settled into easy conversation during the drive to Virgil’s house, discussing their plans for the upcoming holiday break. With only one week of school left everyone had begun making plans for the holiday season and they were all eager to plan gatherings so they could stay in touch over the break.

Soon enough the group had arrived at Virgil’s house, Janus shooting him a quick text to let him know they were outside waiting. Unlike the twins, Virgil was walking out the door within 30 seconds or receiving Janus’s text. His anxiety always forced him to get ready for things extremely early, as he didn’t want to inconvenience his friends by being late. He swiftly opened the backseat door and planted himself in the seat across from Roman, muttering a simple “Hey.” as he did so. Roman almost immediately began talking the boy’s ear off, his eagerness for the dance becoming very clear. As Roman talked Remus noticed a small, fond smile work it’s way across Virgil’s face, watching Roman intently. He shot Janus a “How are they so oblivious?” look, which the driver returned as he shifted the car into drive and began the trip to the school.

The conversation eventually shifted to include all 4 boys, discussing the dance as “Doubt” by Twenty-One Pilots played softly in the background.

“I just hope they play some actual fun music this time! Most of the music they played at homecoming was so boring.” Remus whined.

“Your idea of ‘fun’ is just music you can twerk to, Remus.” Virgil retorted, earning a chuckle from Roman that caused a faint blush to tinge his face.

“Exactly! We’re high schoolers, what else does the principal expect?” Remus made a fair point.

“I suppose you’re right.” Janus allowed his mind to float once again, this time choosing to focus on how little he actually knew about dances. ‘Do they serve food, or are we going to have to stop somewhere on the way home? Is the music going to be a bunch of overplayed Christmas songs, since it was the winter formal? How many slow songs were they going to play?’ That last thought caused Janus to halt his train of thought. He hoped they didn’t play many slow songs. Emile and Remy were the only ones in their group who were in an actual relationships (despite gay pining being blatantly obvious from multiple members of their group). Slow songs would likely just leave the rest of them to sit on the bleachers, sulking about their loneliness.

No, he decided with finality. This night is about spending time with friends, and it will not be ruined due to a few sappy love songs. If slow songs are played they could use that time to take a break outside the dance, not mope. He was determined to make this a fun night out with his closest companions.

He took a deliberate, calming deep breath as he pulled into a spot in the free student parking lot. Sure, they would have a slight walk to get up to the school, but it was better than paying $5 to park in the other lot for a mere few hours. He turned the car ignition off, turning to face his friends in the back seat.

“Are we ready boys?” He asked, his signature smirk taking it’s reserved place across his face. Roman quickly hopped out of the car, bouncing on his feet giddily as he waited for the others to join him. Virgil stepped out next, followed quickly by Remus. Janus took one last look at himself in the rear-view mirror, nodding to himself reassuringly before stepping outside the car to join his friends.

Roman immediately shrieked upon seeing his outfit in its entirety. “Oh my god! I told you it would look absolutely fabulous! Doesn’t he look amazing?” Remus and Virgil nodded approvingly, and Janus felt his face heat up just the slightest bit. It felt good to know that his friends approved of the outfit. He took this opportunity to examine both Remus and Roman’s outfits. They were wearing simple, matching suits, with contrasting color schemes. Remus’s was a deep black with a pale green undershirt and a simple black tie, while Roman’s was white (Roman had to be one of the only people who could manage to pull off a white suit and not look absolutely ridiculous), paired with a rich red undershirt that had flecks of gold sprinkled on it. Their outfits matched them well, Janus decided.

Virgil had gone for a less extravagant look, sporting a lilac dress shirt with black dress pants and an obsidian tie. His shoulder-length hair paired quite well with the outfit, the pink at the ends helping to break apart the black and purple from higher up in his hair and in his outfit. Roman seemed to think the simple look suited Virgil, sneaking glances at him when he though nobody would notice.

The four quickly walked up to the front doors of the school, where they presented their pre-bought tickets to the students running the ticket stand. (Roman had insisted on buying their tickets in advance, worrying that if they waited until the night of tickets might have sold out.) As they entered the school Janus could feel his nerves return, no longer able to ignore the thought of how Patton would judge his outfit. Virgil could sense the worry from the other boy and nudged him gently by the shoulder, offering a soft and genuine smile as a source of comfort.

Janus smiled back, glad that his friend wasn’t drawing attention to his nerves. He took one last grounding breath and stepped into the gym, immediately being blasted by Lady Gaga’s voice bursting through the speakers up by the booth at the front of the gym. The dimmed lights coated all of the boys in a slight blue hue as they made their way through clusters of teenagers already dancing, attempting to find their other friends.

Roman spotted Remy first, his sleek all-black suit making him stand out amongst the crowd. Knowing Logan, Emile and Patton would be close by, he led his small group over. Janus opted to stand behind Virgil, still able to be seen but being mostly concealed.

“Salutations, I am glad we have finally managed to locate you four. Emile and Patton were beginning to worry that you had gotten lost on the way here.” Logan’s rather formal greeting was contrasted by his genuine smile, always glad to be in the presence of his friends. Remus immediately began eyeing him up and down, observing his black vest and matching dress pants with a royal blue dress shirt. Suddenly Patton popped out from behind Logan, his positive energy immediately brightening the atmosphere.

“Oh goodness, you all look so wonderful! Vee, you look beautiful with that makeup!” Virgil beamed at the compliment as Janus peeked over Virgil’s shoulder, seeing Patton in a grey suit and baby-blue button down and his classic circular glasses, looking like an absolutely radiant burst of sunshine in Janus’s opinion. Emile came into view, with his coral-pink dress shirt and light grey dress pants. As Emile and Remy began to join in on the conversation Janus stepped out from behind Virgil to contribute, not noticing as Patton’s jaw practically fell to the floor.

Oh god, Patton was going to faint. That was all he could think about as he got the chance to observe Janus’s outfit. His slacks and suit were perfectly tailored and fitted to Janus’s body, showing how marching band had helped increase his athleticism. The tie was also a lovely touch, but what Patton was truly fixated on was the vest.

The glitter reflected beautifully off the lights in the school gymnasium, drawing attention to Janus from anyone who looked. In Patton’s opinion he absolutely shined, and this caused Patton to go into a temporary state of gay panic. He checked to make sure Janus wasn’t watching his reaction, then briskly walked over to stand by Logan. He could tell his face closely resembled a firetruck, he couldn’t shake the lovestruck smile off his face and he found himself babbling incoherently, the only understandable words being “pretty,” and “wow”. If only poor Patton had seen Logan recording his moment of panic from his phone, but luckily Logan would never show anybody with the video. He would just tease Patton with it. Relentlessly. But that was a matter for another time.

After a moment Patton managed to compose himself, and walked back over to properly greet Janus. Smiling his usual bright smile (if not a little wider than usual), he tapped the dark-haired boy on the shoulder.

Janus felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and turned around, only to be met with Patton’s twinkling face, feeling his heart skip several beats as a soft smile formed across his own face.

“Hey Jan! I’m so glad you decided to come tonight! And that’s a super neato vest!” Patton’s tone was as cheery as ever, but Janus couldn’t quite tell what Patton’s intentions were with the vest comment. His insecurities immediately took over, offering a reply in what he hoped was a perfectly casual tone.

“Roman insisted I wear it, but I wondered if it would be too much.” He avoided Patton’s gaze and instead let his eyes fall to the space past the curly-haired boy’s shoulders.

“Oh nonono! That’s not what I meant!” Patton replied a little too enthusiastically, causing Janus to jump slightly in surprise. “Sorry. But I meant it looks really good, er, nice on you! It was a good choice!” He added, this time more calmly. Janus felt the small knot in his stomach come undone at those words, being immediately replaced with a swarm of butterflies. ‘Patton thinks I look good!’

“Oh, well in that case thank you. You look quite nice as well.” Janus was able to look in Patton’s eyes this time as he spoke.

“Thanks! Oh, before we start dancing we should go take pictures at the photo stand!” He suggested to the group, everybody quickly agreeing and exiting the gym to claim a place in line for the photos.

Luckily the line wasn’t very long since the dance had essentially just begun. After around 5 minutes of waiting the eight friends found themselves at the front of the line. They decided to give the teacher running the photo area (their choir teacher, a very sweet man who many of them were familiar with) Remy and Emile’s phones, trusting the two eldest of the group to send the photos to everyone else via group chat later in the evening. The teacher quickly told them that they were allowed to take two photos, one more genuine, well-behaved photo and then a more silly photo before moving to allow them to take their places in front of the snowy backdrop.

The boys lined themselves up with Remy and Emile holding hands in the center. Roman, Virgil and Remus were spread out to Remy’s right, and Patton, Logan and Janus matched them to Emile’s left. They each plastered a simple smile across their face as the first photo was taken, looking poised and elegant. After the teacher gave them the go-ahead to get into position for the second photo Roman decided to make a bold snap-decision. He hastily wrapped his arms around Virgil and hoisted him up princess-style, Virgil letting out a surprised squeak and causing Roman to slightly bump into Remus. Remus nearly toppled over at this but was caught by someone, looking up to see Logan holding him up in a dip position. Not willing to sacrifice this opportunity, Remus simply said “Oh well,” and smiled brighter than he had all night into the camera, with Logan following suit. Emile opted to hop onto Remy’s back, Remy easily supporting the added weight.

Noticing everybody else pairing up, Patton turned to Janus. “Looks like everybody else is posing! Wouldn’t want to be left out!” He swung his arm around Janus’s shoulder, pulling them into a side-hug and leaning in so their heads were bumping each other. As their heads touched he let out a giggle so adorable Janus thought he might just die. Both of them smiling genuinely at the camera allowed the choir teacher to snap the second photo, finding it sweet how close this group was. He handed Emile and Remy their phones as everyone began to untangle themselves. Virgil could be heard grumbling a “Warn a dude next time, Princey.” But judging by the way he was glowing he wasn’t upset in the slightest. Roman began ushering them all back into the gym, eager to get onto the dance floor.

Janus’ head was spinning as they began looking for an open spot on the dance floor, the butterflies in his stomach increasing tenfold. They finally found an area decently close to the center just as Taylor Swift’s “22” began streaming through the speakers. Roman, Remus and Remy were almost immediately able to get into “the groove” as they called it, with Roman being very thankful he was only surrounded by his closest friends. Everybody else felt slightly awkward at first and it took a moment to warm up to dancing among so many people, but eventually they realized everybody else at the dance was focused on their own friend groups. This realization slowly helped each of the boys loosen up, and by the end of the song they were all dancing their hearts out in the small circle they had created.

The next song to play was ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” to which Roman squealed. As they reached the line “Dancing queen, young and sweet, only 17!” Patton, Emile and the twins were thrust into the center of the circle, being the 17 year olds among the group. Feeling the energy among his friends was exhilarating, and Janus was left wondering why he had opted out of dances in the past. This felt so freeing, and he was so genuinely happy. Looking around at all of his frieds’ smiling faces, he knew he wouldn’t need to be convinced to come to another dance from now on.

The songs continued to change, ranging from Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” to the classic Lady Gaga “Just Dance”. At one point “Timber” by Ke$ha and Pitbull was played, giving Remus the exact type of “fun” song he had been looking for. He jumped around wildly, pulling Logan in with him a few times throughout the song “jokingly flirting” and having the time of his life. Everybody else danced along to the song as well, but none of them came even close to matching Remus’ enthusiasm.

Once that song ended a slow song began to play, one Janus couldn’t recognize but Roman immediately announced was Ed Sheeran’s “perfect”. Remy and Emile took to the dance floor, while the six remaining boys opted to step outside for a breath of fresh air.

The group collectively decided to use this as time to take a breather. Standing in a line against the wall, they sat on the concrete, leaning on the wall behind them for support. It was nice for Janus to take a breather, not realizing just how crowded the dance floor had been. The air had started to feel stuffy and hot, though the environment was just too electric to ignore in the heart of the dance floor. He could hear his friend around him breathing deeply, taking in as much of the cool night air as possible. He decided to follow in their footsteps. After around five minutes Roman suggested they should head back inside, always eager to be in the thick of the dancing.

They felt more collected as the bunch re-entered the gym for the third time that night, working their way back into the crowd where Remy and Emile had secured their spot. Everybody quickly fell back into the dancing, no longer feeling any of the awkwardness from earlier in the evening. The song that had been playing eventually faded out into Rihanna’s “Diamonds”, a tune everybody quickly recognized. Janus was so caught up in his own dancing that he didn’t notice Patton slowly working his way through their friends and directly over to him. It was only when he felt a hand brush his that he turned, looking over at the precious boy next to him.

As the song neared it’s chorus Patton linked their hands together, continuing to bounce along to the song. He sang along with Rihanna as she sang through the chorus, looking directly at Janus as he did. He gently swayed and bounced their arms between them, trying to keep the mood light and fun. Once the chorus ended and the song switched back into the second verse Janus quietly asked, “What was that about?”

“Well, your vest is so sparkly and it makes you shine bright like a diamond, so I igured it would be appropriate if I danced with you for this song!” Patton had to be the sweetest human alive. There was no other explanation for the way his words made Janus feel absolutely weak in the knees, opting to no longer hide the goofy grin on his face. Janus felt no need to reply to the statement, letting his smile be enough of a response and moving to continue their lighthearted bouncing. The two continued to dance happily together throughout the song and settled easily back into casual dancing on their own once it ended.

As the event began to near it’s end, Janus could feel the fatigue begin to set in. He had been dancing for a good amount of time, with only three slow songs playing throughout the entire evening. He was sweaty and beginning to feel tired, but the bubbly feeling in his chest remained, his joy still being present within him. He looked around and could see his friends in a similar state. The DJ announced that the last song of the night was about to play, and the students’ ears were suddenly flooded with the voice of Katy Perry with her song “Firework”.

The teens gave their all to this last song, happily jumping along with their classmates and singing their hearts out at the chorus. ‘What a positive note to end the evening on’, Janus thought as the final chorus of the song rang through the school. At this point a good amount of people had left, but every student that was still at the school was singing along to the song’s final notes, letting out a collective breath once it ended.

The boys took a moment to catch their breath before walking over to collect the jackets, cell phones and other personal items that they had set down throughout the evening. Once everything was collected they slowly made their way back to the free parking lot, the cool nighttime air feeling like heaven against their skin.

“So, did you have fun?” Patton stood in front of Janus once again, looking at him hopefully. If Janus weren’t practically buzzing with energy he’s sure he would have melted into the floor at Patton’s tender tone.

“I… yes, I had an amazing time, Patton.” This only resulted in Patton grinning wider, jumping up and wrapping Janus in one last hug for the night. Janus held him there for a moment, squeezing him back tightly before letting go and waving goodbye to Patton, Logan, Remy and Emile for the evening. The group he had arrived with all climbed into his car after saying their goodbyes, beginning to feel the effects of their exhaustion.

The drive home was practically silent compared to the ones earlier on in the evening, allowing Janus to reflect on his amazing evening and feeling very lucky that he was a good driver even in the darkness. He could feel everyone’s fatigue, deciding they were too tired to stop for food. As he pulled up to Virgil’s house he found the emo boy asleep on Roman’s shoulder in the backseat, with Roman being equally passed out and Remus clearly dozing. He gently shook Virgil awake, saying a quick goodbye and letting the boy head inside to get some well-deserved rest. He arrived at the twins’ houses shortly after, nudging each of them awake. Roman didn’t seem to want to fully wake up, leaning on his brother for support as they walked into their own home.

As soon as Janus was parked in his own driveway we worked his way into his home and up to his bedroom, his feet feeling like lead due to his exhaustion at this point. As he opened the door to his room he felt his phone vibrate within his pocket, with the pictures from earlier being sent from Emile. Without looking he immediately knew what the text would be, smirking to himself as he changed into some basketball shorts and a t-shirt. The sleepy boy crawled into bed, plugging his phone in and falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He knew he would remember this night forever, the pure unfiltered glee he felt being hard to forget.

The next day the silly picture was printed out and hung in a spare frame above Janus’ computer, right where it belonged. ‘Yeah, I could get used to this.’

(A/N: Once again, thanks so much for reading! I’m so thankful that I finally got this done. I worked really hard on it the past couple days and it’s my first fully completed fic! I am new to this, so comments and constructive criticism is much appreciated! Have an amazing day! I love you!)

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trylonandperisphere · 3 years

Text

Are you suffering from 2020 election burnout? You're not alone.

Covid-19 depleted our bodies’ ability to process stress months ago. Then election season arrived.

Oct. 31, 2020, 5:00 AM EDT

By Anne Helen Petersen

Like so many other people I know, I’ve spent the least eight months figuring out how to spread out my Covid-19 and election-related stress in a way that makes everyday life livable. I metered my anger; I figured out anxiety-diluting strategies; I got through one day of uncertainty and fear, then the next, then the next. I created basic, anchoring routines for each day, and I worked to cultivate spare moments of peace and something that approximates happiness. I figured it out because I had no other choice. My life wasn’t great — but it was bearable.

It’s not just fears of contracting Covid-19 or anxiety about who will win the presidential election — it’s more, “How will my community and my state and my country recover from this physical and economic calamity?”

But this week, my body began to tell me a different story. After all these months, my anxiety dreams began to incorporate Covid-19. In them, I show up in a store or to an event and I’ve somehow forgotten my mask, or everyone else has. My sleep, which had largely steadied, is beginning to disintegrate again. My misophonia — an actual medical condition in which particular sounds, especially chewing, make you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall — is off the charts. My stomach churns, my muscles ache. I feel totally scattered, unable to concentrate, sensitive to everything.

My partner’s migraines rolled in every day for the past week. No one I know was sleeping well. Once-manageable conditions — tinnitus, hot flashes, colitis — have spiraled out of control. All of our already bad digital habits, especially doomscrolling, have gotten worse. As I sit here writing, a devouring headache has traveled up my spine, over my skull and into my jaw bone. “All my coping strategies are failing,” one person told me recently. “I am coming undone.”

It’s not just fears of contracting Covid-19 or anxiety about who will win the presidential election. It’s more, “How will my community and my state and my country recover from this physical and economic calamity?” And, “Will American democracy be dismantled?” It’s constantly wondering: Are you doing enough? Do you have any more hours, more money, more desperate energy to give? What more can you wring out of your already wrung-out self so you can change the direction of this country?

There’s also the knowledge that there will be no catharsis on Election Day, because the president and the GOP have quietly and not-so-quietly been setting up an infrastructure to ensure that any win will be contested. Imagine running a marathon, seeing the finish line and then having someone on the sideline yell that you need to turn around and run all the way home. That’s what this election burnout feels like. The unknowns — about the virus, a potential cure, just how long all of this will last — just continue to cascade. The approach of winter feels like being in a dark tunnel closing in on both sides. Your fatigue accumulates gradually, until one day you realize you’ve been struggling to breathe for weeks.

The foundations of this stress are not new, even if they are new to some people. For years, a lot of white, middle-class people in the U.S. have been insulated from the reality that an election could have dramatic effects on their lives. President Donald Trump pulled that privilege away and introduced bourgeois liberals to what BIPOC, poor people, queer people and disabled people have been feeling for centuries. Feeling unsafe in public spaces, uncertain that law enforcement will protect you, fearful that certain rights could be taken from you without warning — for millions of Americans, the stress and threat was always there. But the thrum of constant worry has started to feel like someone screaming in your ear.

Imagine running a marathon, seeing the finish line, and then having someone on the sideline yell that you need to turn around and run all the way home. That’s what this election burnout feels like.

What’s changed is that our surge capacity — the body’s ability to process stress — was depleted months ago. We have so much grief and nowhere to put it. When you can’t process something, it builds up, like bile. And no matter how creatively or diligently you try to ignore it, it’s still there, slowly festering. At some point your body begins to betray your best compartmentalization strategies. Our dreams have become vivid and terrifying because sleep is one of the places we allow ourselves to confront our sadness and fear.

This sort of chronic instability, and the burnout and exhaustion that accompany it, fundamentally changes us. In some cases, our bodies and minds force us to check out entirely. We turn inward, become apathetic and withdrawn, neglect the effects of our actions on others and indulge our worst, most selfish and desperate selves.

If that’s what you need to do in order to keep going just one more day: Do it. But dropping out of civil life — of caring — is a worst-case scenario. What you can do, at least in the short term, is take the advice of my friend, clinical psychologist Darcy Lockman: Lower the bar. Now, look at that bar, and lower it again.

That philosophy can apply to basically everything in your life that you, personally, control: your appearance, the cleanliness of your house, your to-do list, your parenting, even your relationships. What is actually essential, and where can you give yourself some much-needed, even if temporary, slack? How can you give yourself the smallest — but nonetheless substantive — break from the relentlessness of your life right now?

If, like me, small measures of control make you feel better about a lack of control elsewhere, what’s something that will give you some form of short-term catharsis? You’re not the only person in your life who feels like things are falling apart, even more than they were falling apart before. Ask your friends in the group chat. Actually talk to your partner about it. If you have kids and they are old enough, talk to them, too. Our struggles can feel unique and unknowable to anyone else. But just admitting out loud that you’re feeling broken can produce something like strength.

I’m still oscillating between hope and despair, between believing the polls and rejecting them, between imagining the possibilities of radical, wide-ranging societal change and steeling myself for four more dark years. But the exhaustion we feel at that prospect is, as Dahlia Lithwick pointed out in her recent piece on the confirmation of Amy Coney Barrett, the point. If Republicans can’t win the popular vote, they’ve decided to win by simply wearing down the opposition: in the courts, in the legislature, through disinformation and on social media.

If Republicans can’t win the popular vote, they’ve decided to win by simply wearing down the opposition: in the courts, in the legislature, through disinformation, and on social media.

This arduousness has not been accidental. The response to this virus didn’t have to be another battle in the culture war. Voting doesn’t have to feel like a mythical hero’s journey. Applying for unemployment, taking a Covid-19 test, feeling confident that people will respect rules about masks — none of it should be this hard. That difficulty was always the point. Make things hard, and infuriating and time-consuming, and eventually people will give up — or at least fall in line.

The rallying cry that emerged in the wake of Trump’s election was resist. Resist normalizing Trump’s behavior. Resist his policies. Resist the spread of Trumpism — and resist his vision for America. Some people have been resisting for as long as they can remember. And others, new to this fatigue and fear, are arriving at new stages of empathy and solidarity. All of this resistance has exacted a steep toll. But if you’re on the brink of falling apart, it’s not a symptom of failure. It’s evidence of bone-deep care and commitment to a different vision of what this country can be: for yourself, for your family and for those who are nothing like you but deserve it nonetheless.

Be gentle on yourself these next few days. And remember that part of what we’re fighting for is to never feel this way again.

#election #2020 #2020 mood #2020 election #u.s. politics #u.s. election #self care #mental health #stress #anxiety #depression

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ballumsecretvalentine · 4 years

Text

Four months, two weeks and five days

Happy Valentines Day @dingletragedy 💖

“Dear Ben,

I hope that you are doing well. Apart from getting up at all hours and going backwards and forth from the kitchen and standing at the firing line, I’m not doing too bad myself. Thank you for sending me letters, they really make these dark days here much brighter and they make me smile. It is funny how I have only had you in my life for a few short months and I already recognise your squiggly handwriting and it makes my heart burst when I receive them.

I really don’t know why you are waiting for me but I’m so happy that you are as ever since Chris, I have never felt this way about a guy before. I really do miss you. You make me so happy and I really cannot wait to see you very soon. I will make a note of the dinner arrangements for when I come back and I will also text you on the day just to make sure we are still good for our date! Maybe the next time that I have to go away, we can invest in Skype because at least I would be able to see that cheeky smile of yours more often despite being on the other side of the world.

Apart from being out on the battlefield, Tom and I have been experimenting with new dishes in the kitchens. We have come up with this amazing chicken pasta recipe…well more like I did! 😊 It goes down a storm in the army! I will have to make it for you when I come back, I’m sure Stuart and Rainie will not mind making themselves scarce for a bit.

I cannot believe and it really does break my heart that we have been apart for over 4 months but you will be worth the wait. I cannot wait to be reunited with you again my love.

I’ll see you very soon.

All my love always,

Callum xxxxxx ”

Four months, two weeks and five days. That’s how long they had been apart.

Ben was thankful that no one had walked into the car lot when he was reading his lover’s letter, it would have destroyed his bad boy reputation. His cheeks were a radiant shade of pink and he was smiling so widely that you could actually see his teeth which rarely happened, unless you walked in when Ben was brushing his teeth or using a toothpick to discreetly pick food out of his teeth.

Callum seemed to have that effect on Ben and Ben did not know how it happened and he had no control whatsoever over it. Callum was only supposed to be one in his long line of one night stands but here he was, four months, two weeks and five days later, and the man who called himself Callum Highway had filled his heart in ways that were indescribable but it was an amazing feeling. A beautiful and exotic feeling and Ben had not felt this way since Paul. To be honest, Ben was starting to sadly wonder that maybe Paul never made him feel this way.

Ben sighed happily as he put his tartan coat on and hid his letter from Callum safely in the inside pocket. He strolled out of the car lot with a spring in his step and locked the door behind him. As he walked through the Square gardens, he inhaled the smell of a crisp winter’s morning and cold air blew out of his parted lips.

Nothing would destruct this delightful mood that Ben was in as he smiled to himself. People who knew Ben around here would probably have their suspicions that he was up to something.

But he wasn’t.

It had been four months, two weeks and five days.

And today was the day that Ben Mitchell was going to be reunited with Callum Highway.

/*/*/*/*/

Ben sat on a stool at the bar of the Prince Albert. He tilted his head back and shut his eyes as he tipped a shot of the burning liquid down his throat and leaning forward against the bar whilst he scrunched his whole face together in a grimace as the shot sent bright orange flames through his blood stream. Ben had only arrived ten minutes before and he had already downed two shots and drank half of his beer. He had a row with his mother about him staying out late and constantly reminding him about his responsibilities as a father to his little girl, Lexi. After a few retaliations, Ben stormed out of the house and ended up at the gay bar that his mother happened to own.

Ben let out a heavy sigh and planted his face in his hands, letting his hands run down his face as he let out a soft groan.

“Alright sweetheart, what can I get ya?” He heard the female bartender ask the next customer close by.

“Just a bottle of beer please,” the bloke sounded polite.

When the bartender moved away, Ben sneaked a glance up to find a tall man standing close by to him and was smiling timidly as he looked around awkwardly, tapping his foot anxiously. From a side glance, Ben could already tell that his blue eyes shimmered beautifully under the many colourful disco lights that were flashing in every angle and every direction of the bar and he also had some amazing hair. Brown hair that was slicked to the side and raised a little at the front. You could tell the guy had spent a lot of time and effort to get it perfect and precise. He did not even know the bloke but just from a single look, he could tell that this guy was rather conscientious about his appearance.

“Have I got something on my face?”

Ben jumped slightly as he got pulled away from his thoughts to find the guy looking back at him. His breath hitched at the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” Ben coughed awkwardly as he scratched his chin. “I didn’t realise I was staring, was deep in thought and you just happened to be in my eyeline.”

The guy gave a small smile, “It’s fine, I do that quite a lot.” He continued to look around the room awkwardly.

Ben took a gulp of his beer, “Are you okay? You look a bit lost?”

The guy looked back at Ben. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just not every day that I go to bars or clubs, especially a gay bar, even though I’m gay!” He chuckled nervously.

Ben licked his lips and raised his eyebrow intrigued, as he felt his heart leap. The right answer to his suspicion and he wouldn’t mind bagging him up and taking him home. “Oh yeah?”

The guy nodded, “Yeah.” He coughed slightly. “I’m Callum by the way.”

Ben flashed a smile. He wanted to get acquainted, he was in. Ben held his hand out, “Ben Mitchell.”

Callum shook his hand. His hand was warm and welcoming and just from one firm but gentle grip, they both felt safe.

“There you go darling.”

The bartender put Callum’s beer down on the bar making Ben and Callum claim their allocated hands back.

“Thank you,” Callum gave a small smile as he took a sip of his beer whilst Ben took another sip of his.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” The bartender smiled politely.

Callum stole a glance over at Ben who was looking up at him with the beer bottle still held at his lips. “Did you want a refill?” He asked.

Ben took the bottle away from his mouth and held it up, observing the amount of liquid that remained in the bottle.

“Yeah go on then,” Ben smiled. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll buy as a couple of shots later!”

The bartender smiled at them both before she went to get Ben’s beer. Callum laughed as he took his wallet out of his inside pocket of his navy-blue jacket. Ben stole another look at Callum and smiled mischievously.

“There you go,” the bartender put the beer down in front of Ben and turned back to Callum. “That’ll be £12.17 please.”

Callum took his debit card out of his wallet and scanned the card using contactless. The card reader bleeped as it registered that the drinks had been paid for. The bartender thanked him with a smile before quickly moving onto the next customer.

“So,” Ben cleared his throat as Callum took a seat on the stall next to Ben and watched as he took a sip of his beer. “I take it you’re not from around these parts if you very rarely go to bars or clubs unless you’re a bit of a hermit?” He teased.

Callum smiled. He had a beautiful smile, Ben registered. “No,” Callum chuckled. “I’ve just come back from the army. I’m in the army for a few weeks, mostly months at a time. I’ve come back to visit my brother, who would rather still spend time with his girlfriend who he sees every day.”

Ben threw his head back and laughed, “Families, eh? Who would have ‘em?”

Callum let out a small sigh, “Yeah. Oh well. It’s nice to be free for a bit.” He shrugged as he took another gulp of his beer.

Ben smiled as he stroked the neck of his beer bottle, “So the army? What’s it like?”

Callum shrugged, “It’s alright. I mainly work in the kitchens, but I do go out on the field quite a bit too. Guess it gives me a purpose in life and when you have time off and you can properly catch up with friends and family, it makes you appreciate the things you have in life more.”

Ben nodded. “Well, I’ve always wanted to meet a hero.” He added smoothly, smiling cheekily up at Callum.

Callum looked at Ben and rolled his eyes as he laughed humorously. Ben let out a slight chuckle. Once the laughing had died down, they both found themselves looking at each other and their eyes were locked together for longer than what they thought. Callum smiled at Ben and looked down, feeling his cheeks start to flush. Ben smirked as he finished off his first beer. Callum looked back up to find Ben gazing at him, those mischievous dazzling blue eyes sparkling in his orbit. Callum found himself automatically smiling shyly back at Ben, like he was on auto pilot.

Ben had suddenly found that his sour mood had faded very quickly since this mysterious handsome soldier entered his life for the evening.

*/*/*/*/

“Ben, BEN!”

Ben jumped as he got dragged away from his pondering thoughts as he looked towards Jay who was sitting opposite him with an annoyed look on his face. He was sitting in the café having breakfast with him.

Ben cleared his throat, “Sorry bruv, totally out of it then,” he let out a breath as he picked up a sausage from his plate and bit half of it.

“Yes, I could tell,” Jay rolled his eyes as he went back to reading the paper. “I swear ever since this Callum came on the scene, you’ve switched off. The eyes are there but the ears…” He scoffed.

“I’m sorry,” Ben apologised genuinely. “He’s coming back today and I’m just so nervous. Like what if he’s had second thoughts?” He begins to ramble.

Jay looked up from his newspaper, “I think you’ll be able to convince him to change his mind if that were the case.” He piped up. “And even if he did have second thoughts, he wouldn’t be writing to you every week would he. He must be keen which I can’t see for the life of me why.”

“Just because you’ve only managed to properly pull two women in your lifetime,” Ben retorted. “Both of them in which I slept with as well,” he pointed out smugly which made Jay’s eyes roll.

Ben finished his coffee with a big loud slurp much to the irritation of Jay before putting his mug down, “Anyway I better get off, those motors won’t sell themselves.”

“Alright mate, will I get to see ya before the big date?” Jay asked.

“Well it depends whether you decide to take a break from the dead and grace me with your presence,” Ben quipped as he held his hand out to Jay and slapped his hand into his.

Jay rolled his eyes smiling, “Well if I don’t see ya, hope it goes alright and I’ll tell your mum not to wait up.” He smirked.

Ben chuckled and walked out of the café, waving Kathy goodbye on the way out.

*/*/*/*/

“To my darling hero Callum,

I hope that you are well and I hope that you are keeping safe as I am dying to see those beautiful blue eyes of yours and your smile that just lights up a room. I cannot wait to see you. I am counting down the days until I get to see you again. It’s been too long since I last saw you, just over four months ago to be exact.

I cannot wait to see you so we can distract each other from our sleuthing by whispering sweet nothings in your ear and spending countless hours in bed with you. You could probably do with all the rest you can get but I’ll warn you, it’s going to be very doubtful as I want to get as much of you I can get before you leave me again. I’m sorry if I sound selfish. I’ve only known you for a short amount of time, but it feels like I’ve known you for longer. For the first time ever, I believe that it really was fate that brought us together. I miss you so much, babe.

I also look forward to seeing you playing wifey and cook this chicken pasta that you’re raving about for me. I hope you like burgers as that’s what my brother’s restaurant mainly serves and he keeps putting the restaurant up for nominations and cannot see why other restaurants are ahead of his?? If you don’t like burgers, I think I know something else that you could devour on instead 😉 Plus I would also like to show you off as you already mean so much to me. I was also thinking of maybe introducing you to Lexi if it’s okay with Lola and also if you want to? But I will have to make her try to understand that you will have to keep going away. I’m sure she will understand if I tell her you’re some superhero who fights off the bad men!

Anyway, I’ll let you go now. We will have a lot of catching up to do when you get back.

Forever counting down the days my handsome soldier.

All my love,

Ben xxxxxxxxxxxxx

If he smiled any wider, he swore his face would split in two. Callum Highway looked up from the letter and his eyes searched his surroundings as he sat in the back of a black cab as it started to drive through Albert Square.

He was getting closer to his love. The extraordinary man who has only been in his life for a few short months but already means the world to him and plays a big part in his life. Since Chris, Callum thought he would never get this chance again, the chance to find love and be the happiest he has ever been, but he did and in the least unexpected ways possible. Callum very rarely stepped foot in a bar let alone had a drink in one but on the one occasion that he did to get away from his brother Stuart and his girlfriend Rainie, he managed to find love himself and it was the best feeling in the world.

Ben was different compared to Chris. Ben was cheeky, flirty, gorgeous and was so soft, even though he acted like the hard man at times to most people but he was one of the lucky ones who saw the soft side, who got to see his heart and who Ben purely was. Callum did not think Ben would ever be his type but he was and he is and could not be happier that their paths entwined. Ben made Callum feel all warm and fuzzy inside and most of all, Ben understood Callum, he could see right through him and the amazing thing is was that Callum could see right through Ben as well.

“Coker and Mitchells?” The taxi driver called out for clarification.

“Yes,” Callum responded as they drove past the small market area. “Just here, thanks.” He said as they pulled up outside the funeral parlour. Callum looked up and smiled. He was at his destination and within a few hours, Ben could be there with him, in each other’s orbits.

After four months, two weeks and five days.

“That’ll be £35 please mate,” said the taxi driver.

Callum got out his wallet and paid the taxi driver before shuffling out the back of the black cab with his massive rucksack following behind him. Callum stepped out of the black cab dressed in his army uniform from head to toe with his rucksack hauled on his back. He turned his head to find the usual combustion of the market and people going about their day to day lives. These days, Callum wished that in a way he could have this life, but he kept pondering whether this life was for him or whether he was born to be out on the battlefield.

Callum sighed as he stepped up onto the pavement and pressed the buzzer to the flat.

“Hello?” A cockney voice echoed through the outside intercom.

“Stu, it’s me,” Callum responded in a chirpy tone.

“Bruv!” Stuart exclaimed excitedly. “I’ll buzz you up.”

With that, there was a loud buzz and the front door opened. Callum entered the flat and went up the stairs but was not expecting to be pounced on by his heavy (and much bigger than him) brother Stuart as soon as he stepped foot into the flat. Stuart enveloped Callum in a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” Stuart murmured into Callum’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you too,” Callum smiled, patting Stuart on the back. They pulled away from their embrace and walked further into the flat.

“Would you like a drink?” Stuart offered as he made his way into the small kitchen area.

“I could murder a cup of tea,” Callum sighed dreamily as he dropped his rucksack down on the sofa.

“Coming right up!”

Rainie suddenly came out of the master bedroom.

“Ah, I thought I heard your voice!” Rainie squealed excitedly, as she rushed over to Callum and pulled him into a tight embrace. When she pulled away, she ran her hands down his arms. Callum was like a little brother to her even if the feeling might not be mutual. “How was the journey?”

“Not too bad,” Callum responded. “Just a bit tired.”

“Well you might want to get some kip before your big date tonight,” Rainie suggested with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Want to save your energy. You had a delivery come through, not from Ann Summers is it?” Rainie prodded teasingly, winking melodramatically.

“Rainie!” Stuart exclaimed as he got three mugs out of the cupboard.

Callum felt his cheeks turn slightly hot and laughed awkwardly, “No, I got a new shirt for tonight. Want to try and make the effort.”

Rainie smiled and folded her arms across her chest, “I saw lover boy in the café this morning.”

“Did you?” Callum said a little too enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes with Jay, looked completely not with it, must have been thinking of you,” Rainie commented playfully which made Callum chuckle embarrassingly.

Stuart rolled his eyes as he turned and waited for the kettle to boil.

“I better text him in a minute, let him know I’m back,” Callum says as he went to grab his rucksack from the sofa. “I’m going to go and get changed and I’ll come back out for a catch up in a bit.” He hauled the heavy rucksack on his back.

“Alright bruv,” Stuart acknowledged. “Your package is just on the side there.” He pointed to the kitchen counter.

“Thanks,” Callum smiled briefly and grabbed the parcel before retiring for a short while into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He put the rucksack down on the bed and ripped open the parcel to reveal a plain navy shirt. He removed the clear foil from the shirt as he walked over to the landscape mirror on the wall and held the shirt up against him. He flashed a wide smile at his reflection.

After days of waiting for this day to finally happen, it was finally here.

*/*/*/*/

They ended up on the top terrace of the Prince Albert leaning against the balcony drinking beer as they laughed freely and happily. They ended up talking for hours and learnt a fair bit about each other through the course of evening. They learnt about each other’s lives and their families. They were both astonished when they realised that they had both lost someone they loved.

“I wonder if our past significant others planned this y’know,” Ben suggested, teasingly. “Paul could be a bit of wind up merchant at times.” He chuckled slightly, scratching the stubble on the side of his face as he reminisced about his past love.

“Yeah so could Chris,” Callum smiled, mesmerizingly. He looked up the stars that were twinkling and shimmering their light down towards them and a soft and gentle expression formed on Callum’s face.

“I forgot to ask,” Ben cleared his throat, scratching the stubble on the side of his face. “Since you know my last name, what’s yours? You know so I can add you on Facebook.” He winked.

Callum laughed softly, it was a beautiful sound, followed by his wide cheesy smile that Ben had very quickly grown to love. “It’s Highway.”

Ben smirked, “Well maybe I fancy taking the Highway tonight.” He quipped, flirtatiously.

Callum tutted and rolled his eyes with a smirk, feeling himself blushing slightly. Ben chuckled and watched Callum for a moment as he was looked up at the beautiful night sky with Callum. Ben did not realise until now how amazing the dark sky could be with all it’s twinkling stars and all the continents out there. The universe really could be an incredible thing.

Callum licked his lips as he continued looking up the sky with a tilt of his head. “Do you believe in fate?”

Ben burst out laughing, “Not necessarily, no.”

Callum ended up laughing with him. Once the laughing had died down, Callum looked over at Ben to find him gazing up at him, his eyes burning into him. Callum gulped.

“What?” Callum chuckled nervously.

That’s when it clicked. The sudden need for Callum emerged from Ben as he felt the fire roaring from the pit of his stomach. The unexpected urge to be close to Callum. However, it wasn’t as unexpected as he thought as his feelings were brewing since the moment Callum walked into the bar and suddenly, he craved for Callum’s touch, for Callum’s lips against his. Ben looked at Callum with want and burning passion. Callum’s awaiting gaze was burning into him like he was imprinting himself into his heart and soul.

It was now or never.

Ben leaned forward and pressed his lips against Callum’s for a single full on kiss before quickly pulling away. Ben waited for a reaction. Callum’s eyes turned dark and lustful as he stared back at Ben and before Ben knew it, his lips were being pounded by Callum’s as they came crashing down and it felt like the thrill of fireworks when they explode in the night sky. Callum clasped Ben’s lips in a passionate kiss which Ben eagerly responded to as he tugged at the lapels on Callum’s thin navy bomber jacket whilst Callum cradled the back of Ben’s head, running his fingers through his hair. Ben moaned softly into Callum’s mouth which allowed Callum to press his tongue into Ben’s mouth. Ben collided his tongue with Callum’s. Both were moaning into each other’s mouths as Callum got pressed gently into the balcony, his back against it.

This was not really in Callum’s element but being out here with Ben in public, it felt so right and so comfortable that he was not worried about there being an audience or gawping eyes in their direction.

Ben pulled away, panting for breath, “You know what you just said about fate?” Ben said cheekily, “I think this is it.”

Callum smirked, “Do you want to go somewhere else?” He asked, grinding up against Ben.

“Woah,” Ben halted. “Easy tiger!” He added playfully making Callum chuckle and kiss him again.

“Where do you want to go?” Ben asked, “I’m already in mother’s bad books, I’m sure she would love for you to join us at the breakfast table in the morning.”

Callum laughed, slightly tipsy from the thrill and intoxication, “Well let’s go back to my brother’s flat?” He suggested.

Ben arched his eyebrow, “You sure? When he said you can stay for a few weeks, did that include bringing a guy you met at a bar back home?” He asked playfully.

Callum shrugged casually, “He’d want me to enjoy myself. Unless you don’t want to?” He challenged with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Oh believe me, I want to,” Ben said huskily, pulling Callum towards him by the lapels and kissing him again.

When they pulled away, Callum grabbed Ben by the hand and led him out of the bar. Their laughs and smooches of kisses echoing through the night sky.

*/*/*/*/

Callum left the guest bedroom and carefully shut the door behind him to find Stuart and Rainie sitting on the sofa nursing a cup of tea and smiling in Callum’s direction.

“You alright?” Stuart asked. “Tea’s on the side there.”

“Yeah I’m fine,” Callum smiled widely as he grabbed his cup of tea. “Thanks.”

Callum picked up his cup of tea and went to sit in the chair.

“So you all excited for your date later?” Rainie asked enthusiastically.

“Yeah I am,” Callum smiled shyly. “I’m just a bit nervous as I haven’t seen him in over four months. I know we have been writing back and forth but it’s not really the same. I’m looking forward to seeing him.” He said honestly.

“Well, Rainie and I are going out for the evening, using my bonus to take my lady to London for the evening so if you want to bring Ben back to the flat later on then you are more than welcome to,” Stuart offered.

Callum felt his cheeks flush as he looked down shyly and running his fingers through his hair. This was really happening and who knows where they will end up.

*/*/*/*/

Ben tapped his foot anxiously and was biting his nails nervously as he sat in Beale’s restaurant. It was nearly 7pm and he was due to meet Callum soon.

After four months, two weeks and five days, he was almost going to be reunited with him. He felt the butterflies churning in his stomach. He checked his phone to notice that he still had another 5 minutes until they were due to meet.

He couldn’t wait to see Callum. He had wondered what he would look like now, whether there would be any difference. Would he be slightly bigger or even skinnier than he was before? Would he have grown a beard? It didn’t matter to Ben as to him, Callum would be perfect. To Ben, he would still be the crystal blue eyed angel with the most angelic smile that lights up a room.

*/*/*/*/

The yellow light of the early morning sunshine blinded through the small gap between the curtains and illuminated the room with a soft glow. Ben stirred and wriggled slightly as he turned over in the bed and laid on his side and stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed. When all he grabbed was warm screwed up sheets, Ben’s eyes fluttered open and he frowned slightly. He hastily sat up in the bed and absorbed his surrounding with a grin on his face as he started to remember the night before where he copped off with the mysterious tall handsome soldier that he met at the Albert and at the end of the night, had brought Ben back to his brother’s flat.

Ben touched the side of his neck and ran his hand across it with a satisfied smile, having flashbacks of how Callum was sucking and nibbling on his neck between the sheets. Ben started to think of the Kings of Leon song ‘Sex is on Fire’ and he always use to think “How could sex feel like that?”. Then, in came Callum Highway who walked into the Albert looking sexy as hell and lifted him off his feet, literally. And what went on between those sheets was indescribable. It was exotic, it was very intimate, hot and playful and Ben had never felt any pleasure like it. Ben felt great. This sex really was on fire. It was a burning passion that Ben did not realise he had been craving for so badly and now that he had a taste of it, he wanted more.

Ben suddenly got a whiff of bacon floating under the bedroom door and heard the soft sound of the morning radio. Ben turned his head towards the bedroom door. Ben smiled as he scrambled out of the bed and managed to find, amongst the scattered clothes on the floor that were thrown across the room the night before, his boxers and jeans along with his t-shirt that he wore under his shirt. He quickly fumbled about putting them on, leaving his feet bare and his toes curling into the carpet as he opened the bedroom door.

He found Callum whistling merrily to himself in tune to the radio wearing a navy t-shirt and grey jogging bottoms. Ben had to smile as he leaned against the door frame due to that Kings of Leon song conveniently playing on the radio in the background.

“Ohhhh, ohhh, your sex is on fire!” Callum sang happily as he tossed the bacon in the pan.

“Ah thanks babe,” Ben piped up, jokingly.

Callum jumped and spun round on the spot, spatula in hand. “You’re awake,” he smiled happily.

Ben smiled genuinely as he strolled over to Callum and peered at what Callum was cooking. “I didn’t know you did a bed and breakfast service,” he commented playfully.

“Yeah well I thought you would have a bit of an appetite,” Callum said, as he swallowed and felt his cheeks flush, feeling confident to flirt with Ben back a bit but wasn’t confident enough for his response.

Ben smirked sexily and kissed Callum on the cheek, “Oh definitely. I should come here more often.”

“Would you?” Callum said a bit too enthusiastically, mentally kicking himself afterwards for being a bit too forward. Callum cleared his throat, “How do you like your eggs?” He asks, changing the subject.

Ben looked at Callum with a soft expression, “I would like to see you again,” he admitted sheepishly. “If you want to.”

“Really?” Callum said flabbergasted but couldn’t stop smiling.

Ben smiled back as he stroked down Callum’s arm, “Yeah I would. You may be going back to the army, but I feel like we’ve got something and I would like to see where this goes. I wouldn’t mind a bit more of your company before you have to go back as well.” Ben licked his lips.

“Yeah, me too,” Callum responded with a soft voice. “I’d like to see you again.”

Ben and Callum found themselves gazing into each other’s blue pools, it felt like time was slowing down around them and it was just them, in that moment, together. They both blinked and within that millisecond, time seemed to go back to normal.

“So how do you like your eggs?” Callum queried as he leaned back on the worktop next to the stove. He had a slight pout on his lips and his eyebrow slightly arched in question. “Fried or scrambled?”

“Poached,” Ben teased, putting his hands on Callum’s hips. The two of them chuckled softly and pulled each other in for a passionate kiss.

*/*/*/*/

“Ben.”

Ben looked up to find him standing there. After four months, two weeks and five days, he was finally standing there in front of him, in the flashlight and it felt like in that moment, Ben had his breath taken away.

“Callum,” Ben breathed out, in amazement.

“Wow, Ben Mitchell, speechless?” Callum smiled. “That’s something I thought I would never see.”

Ben smiled back. His eyes felt wet. This was actually happening. He was finding it hard to process that Callum was back with him.

“Come here,” Ben croaked out as he immediately stood up, pulling Callum by the lapels and connecting his lips with his in a deep loving kiss.

They only pulled away when they could hear Ian coughing and clearing his throat behind them as a distraction. Ben pulled away and turned around, scowling at Ian’s back. When Ben turned back to Callum, he grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit next to him on his side of the booth. Their entwined hands were in between their bodies, that could not be close enough if they tried, and Ben’s thumb was stroking his hand.

“I missed you so much,” Ben admitted desperately, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I missed you too,” Callum responded with the same amount of desperation in his voice. He couldn’t resist but kissing Ben again for a single kiss.

“How are you?” Ben asked, his voice sounding concerned.

“Bearing up, just glad to be out for a few weeks,” Callum gave a small smile. “What about you?”

“I’m good,” Ben smiled back. “I’m just so happy to see you.”

“Me too,” Callum smiled just as widely. “Me too.”

“Are you two going to take a look at the menus at all, Ben or are you going to be all lovey dovey all night and scaring my customers away?” Ian interrupted rudely and snidely.

Ben looked around the restaurant, “What customers?” Ben challenged with a smirk. “Apart from us, there’s only two other tables.”

“Just hurry up and order,” Ian snapped hastily before marching off. Ben put his middle finger up behind Ian’s back, making Callum chuckle.

Ben scoffed before turning back to Callum, “Sorry about my brother. I would love to say that he’s a lovely bloke deep down, but he really is a self-centered pompous twat.”

Callum chuckled, “I don’t mean to make things worse, but are you hungry?”

Ben smirked, “Why aren’t you?”

“I could eat if you’re hungry but I can wait,” Callum said, his eyes suddenly turning dark.

Ben gulped, “Thinking about it, I’ve lost my appetite.” He gazed up at Callum and allowed himself to be absorbed into Callum’s burning eyes.

“Will your brother mind?” Callum asked awkwardly, “We can always come here to eat another time.”

Ben laughed but smiled softly at Callum, his face full of devotion, “You really do worry too much babe.”

Ben stood up, “Ian!” he called out, “Change of plan, we’re going to head off.”

“What?!” Ian came back round from behind the bar outraged. “I could have got another table booked in! You’ve just wasted company’s time.”

Ben rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet, pulling out a tenner. “Look, here’s a tenner,” he slammed it down on the table. “I deeply apologise for the inconvenience that this has caused.” He added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Ben took hold of Callum’s hand and led him out of the restaurant, Ian’s rants soon turning into silent echoes.

The cool air of the night caught Ben and Callum as they shivered slightly and breathed in the heavens of an already perfect evening. Their hands were clasped and swinging together and as they walked through the Square.

“So what did you have in mind?” Ben wondered. “We could always have a drink in the Albert?” He gestured with his head towards the Albert that was standing in all its bright colours and flashing lights, in all its glory. “Where it all began,” he added teasingly.

Callum smiled, “I was actually thinking of heading back to the flat. Stuart and Rainie are out for the evening so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Ben turned to Callum and raised his eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” He smirked, playfully. “Fancy having me all to yourself, do ya?” He flirted.

“Yeah, I was thinking that maybe we can do what you mentioned in your letters,” Callum says suggestively, gulping afterwards.

“Callum Highway!” Ben gasped, mock offended. “What do you take me for? A gigolo?!”

“No, not at all,” Callum said reassuringly. He used his other hand to stroke down Ben’s arm. “I just want you all to myself.”

“Hmm,” Ben looked at Callum suspiciously before his face softened. “I just want you all to myself too. Plus that navy shirt would look soo much better on the floor anyways.”

Callum snorted and rolled his eyes with a soft smile. This was the Ben he fell in love with and one of the many attributes that he loved. “And maybe if we do work up an appetite, we can always order a Chinese later on?”

Ben snapped his head round to look at Callum, pausing them both still in the street as he kissed him full on the lips, “Look at you, you already know me so well.”

Ben and Callum smiled brightly at each other as they continued the very short walk back to the funeral parlour, nothing but smiles, laughter and kisses along the way.

The four months, two weeks and five days was totally worth it.

#bvd20 #ballum secret valentine #eastenders #ben x callum #ballum #fanfic

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skvaderarts · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth Chapter 4: Winter

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Four: Winter

Note: This will be interesting. It’s not every day that I get to just write like this. Time to spread my wings a little and just dig into this.

-~-

A little more than two years ago…

Blistering cold and exalted, tranquil solitude.

That was what the small town of Lympha was known for at the time.

Ever since it had been founded countless centuries prior, people had ventured there to escape the overcrowding, poor living conditions, and noise that came from larger settlements. Most had been looking for an opportunity to live somewhere where opportunities abounded and resources thrived, and those that didn’t succumb to one of the region’s trademark winter storms were likely to discover just what they’d hoped to find.

It was a pilgrimage of sorts to reach the local, even in modern times. For nearly half of the year, the region was consumed by what weary locals had affectionately -or perhaps less affectionately- dubbed the “Bitter Night”, a state of seemingly neverending darkness that came with winter and was unusual given the global location of the secluded town. Thick black clouds shrouded the area in what felt like an endless winter at times, contributing to an unusually high percentage of residents suffering from almost yearlong bouts of seasonal affective disorder. It was as though the small population of fewer than two thousand residents was trapped in the iron grip of a nameless and unrelenting foe with which they hopelessly battled against. There were members of the town that had spent their whole lives there, but the majority left after less than a decade, unable or unwilling to cope with the constant cold darkness.

The silence was also a factor to take into consideration. While the peaceful silence that came with an early morning’s snowfall was something that many had come to treasure in areas of the world that we’re not constantly buried under snow, that could not be said for the residents of Lympha. Most of them were accustomed to leaving their homes for nonessential reasons due to the constant snow, leaving the area almost hauntingly quiet, a fitting backdrop for the heavily wooded fishing hamlet that set nestled between two large black snowcapped mountains, mirrored by the sizeable lake that spanned the distance between them.

The natural beauty and splendor of the region could not be denied, but that did not change the fact that there was something eery about it that was difficult to put into words properly. Most of the locals avoided the surrounding forests with an almost religious dedication, warning anyone new to the town to do the same. And the longer that they stayed, the quicker they came to the same collective consensus. Most homes were a certain distance from the trees with only farmland bordering the thick, black woodlands. But talk of something wicked residing amongst the trees was rampant, and cattle tended to go missing during the long nights that the town was so accustomed to.

In spite of such obstacles, the small town did prosper. Exports of resources such as fish and cold weather fruit and vegetables fueled a comfortable life for the majority of the residents, and once a year during the coldest, darkest parts of the winter after the fall tourists had long since left and only the boldest locals dared to stay behind, most of the town ventured elsewhere on holiday and basked in the warmth and brightness of less supernatural pastures, savoring in their well-earned funds and taking a break from the ceaseless mists that blanked the region due to its altitude.

Despite the frequent travel, there was only one way in or out of the town. The nearly twenty-mile stretch of winding road that connected the remote village to the rest of the country was the sort of thing that only a fool would dare traverse under the cover of darkness, but it was serviceable for the most part. It had to be to sustain any sort of livable conditions for the town. Keeping it clear of ice and plowed for vehicles to pass was an essential part of the town’s functionality, and everyone felt the anxiety that came with the reality that at least once a year they would end up trapped where they were, unable to leave for any reason.

Most sane, normal people who didn’t call the settlement home avoided the Lympha outside of the fall harvest season, having no reason to go there. And that particular winter, the majority of the town had found no compelling reason to linger, either, leaving to escape what promised to be a bitter, hostile winter. Something was just different in the air that year, and it wasn’t the lingering fog. With the population down to just two hundred intrepid -or perhaps insane- prospectors, the town was essentially shut down, just as it normally was that time of year. And then the silence settled in. Everyone hunkered down and kept warm inside of their homes, only the vague flicker of warm light from inside of their homes giving any indication that the town was not, in fact, totally abandoned, it’s residents finally coming to their senses and writing it off as a lost cause before taking their families and their personal belongings and fleeing to a less spooky local.

But in spite of it all, there had been at least one person in Lympha who was willing to greet the Bitter Night with enthusiasm, a level head, and an optimistic attitude, and that was one of the newest additions of the community. After coming to town to experience the autumn festivities, the young man with the white hair that had whipped the entire town into a tizzy had weighed his options and decided to stay. Solitude had never unnerved V. He was accustomed to it, having spent the vast majority of his life up until then as a resident inside his mind as opposed to that of the physical world in order to escape the reality of the cruel world that he found himself in. But when he’d first traveled there, the silent, almost gloomy nature of the place had ignited something within him that he’d never felt before. To say that he’d felt compelled to stay would be a vast understatement, and there was simply something about the place that put him at ease, even if that ease and that almost tangible presence that he felt so comfortable with did precisely the opposite to everyone else.

He’d managed to find housing relatively easy, all things considered. There were always vacancies out towards the edge of town. No one wanted to live out there anyway, so the prices were considerably lower for much larger dwellings. Strange and unexplained events over the years had gradually pushed everyone towards the center of town leaving farmers to contend with the woods and unlucky landowners with residences that they needed to repurpose. Most were converted into rental properties for curious tourists, but long-term leases were not out of the question on the rare occasion that someone came to town and decided to stay. That had been a lucky break for him.

V realized quickly that he enjoyed taking long walks through the countryside, taking in the smoldering chimneys and feeling the crisp mountain air ghost across his face and through his hair. It wasn’t so much that he loved the cold, it was that he hated the heat with a burning passion, and was more than willing to deal with a few months of brutal cold to avoid it if that meant that the rest of the year was more to his liking. There was something tranquil about the area that put him at ease, and that was something that he treasured at that point in his life. Most people his age were just venturing out on their own for the first time, but he’d been that way his entire life. No, he was looking for something entirely different. A change of pace of sorts while he tried and failed to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life as the mounting pressure he felt from the weight of that decision slowly threatened to drive him insane. He could feel it’s tangible presence at all times, the weight never leaving him and never failing to unnerve him. It was his own darkness more physical than the dark winter that encompassed the town its self despite the fact that it was invisible, and that he knew he had another alternative that he could act upon if this did not pan out for him.

But he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted to devote his life to just yet, so here he was, walking up a lonely road towards the center of town, ready for the time being to clock into his easy-going day job and to then check out of reality for a few hours as he waited pointlessly for customers to come in despite the fact that they rarely did. Gaining employment at the local bookstore had been simple, given his love of books, and it involved minimal amounts of conversation or social interaction since foot traffic was uncommon. He worked open to close for six hours and then went home each day, taking the time in between to catch up on his reading and to contemplate the horrifying serenity that was his reality. What was he to do with himself when he returned to his home later on that evening? Play the violin for a little while? Would he actually cook something this time, or just stand in his kitchen and eat cold food out of a can in his fridge in the dark like the heathen that he was? It was too early to say. After all, he hadn’t reached his place of work yet. But was it so strange to make plans for the end of the day when the day had only just begun?

He found himself absentmindedly gripping the edges of his hood and pulling it down slightly over his face as he passed a few bystanders on the street. He didn’t need to see them to know that they were staring at him as he continued up the street. Practically everyone in every place that he’d ever lived did. In spite of the fact that all he really wanted was to blend in and be left alone by those around him, his stature and unique hair color insured that that possibility was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“Don’t pay them any mind. They aren’t worth it.” He said quietly to himself as he approached the front door of the building, ready to do his quaint day job. The lights in the shop were still out from the night before, and he made a mental note to turn them on before opening the shop this time. He repressed the urge to scold himself for his inability to tune out the world around him, noting that it was not his place to do so. Why should he be made to suffer so for a simple quirk in his DNA that he could neither control nor explain?

At times, there was a part of him that wondered where his extraordinary hair color originated from. Had that been passed down as a result of his parentage, or was it the result of a medical condition he didn’t know he had? Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask either of his parents these questions. Much to his disappointment, he had never had the pleasure of meeting either of his parents, and he had no way of knowing whether or not they were even alive. It was a fact that he lamented, but it was just one of the disheartening realities that he had to come to terms with as a result of being an orphan. The place he’d been forced to call home for the cursory years of his life had no answers for him, at least none that they were willing to share with him the last time that he’d asked, and there was no way he was ever going to willingly return there. No, he’d quite literally prefer death in that scenario. By a considerable margin, if he was being honest. There was nothing but pain for him in that place. That was how it had always been and how it always would be.

He worked to put the matter aside for the time being as he prepared to open the shop. There was a small number of tasks to complete such as checking the shelves for dust and, making sure that everything was accounted for, but nothing too out of the ordinary or difficult. He took off his winter coat and draped it over the counter before tending to his meager duties, absentmindedly contemplating how the rest of the day would go, Would anyone actually come in, or would he be left alone to read again today? He’d finished the book he’d been reading the day before, so perusing the shelves for his new literary obsession was something that he had to look forward to at the very least. He could run across the street to the bakery and grab something for lunch in a few hours. The elderly couple there were welcoming, if not excessively chatty, but they were skilled and he occasionally found humor in their musings. From what he could tell, they were fairly certain that people his age didn’t read anymore, and he was always pleased to know that they were wrong about that and that he could easily prove otherwise if he ever bothered to put that much energy into their words. It was unlikely, though. He didn’t tend to actively give other people that kind of satisfaction, and wasn’t entirely sure why he cared as much as he did. Perhaps it was because they were some of the only people he really interacted with in this town. Or maybe he was just tired of being treated as though he were something inhuman monster by those around him. It was hard to say, in all honesty. Experience hadn’t helped him develop a thicker skin, it seemed.

Pitty.

Before long, he’d finished what little prep work he needed to do, and turned in the direction of the front door. The light switch was by the entrance, and he needed to flip the open sign the right way around before the store could officially accept customers. As he fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater and headed for the door, something unusual caught his eye. The store sat at the center of a Y shaped intersection facing towards the central street. As such, he had a decent view of the central sprawl, at least when it wasn’t snowing like it was today. It was rare to see anyone running around, but that was exactly what had caught his attention. V turned away, not paying much mind to the unusual sight as he reached down to unlock the door. But just as he did, two more figures came running behind the first, gaining on them. He squinted slightly as he tried to make out their approximate ages, something in the pit of his stomach telling him that something about this wasn’t quite right. To his surprised disbelief, his hunch was confirmed as the two figures in black knocked the first individual down face-first into the snow and began to carry them off.

From there, several other bystanders entered his line of sight, all of them seemingly running in a panic as more hooded figures descended upon them and attacked with blunt force weapons such as bats and metal bars. When one man ran outside from one of the local shops and started yelling, the young white haired man immediately recognized him as the bakery owner and questioned why someone his age would get involved in… whatever this horrifying situation was. Clearly, he was trying to help, but what was he hoping to achieve in this scenario?

Before he could give it any further thought, the figure in black produced what appeared to be a thin sword and stabbed the man through the abdomen, knocking him down into the street in full view of the public and the man’s horrified wife, the latter of which was calling out for help in a desperate attempt to try and understand what was going on. The figure looked at her and then violently attacked the elderly man again, never once looking away from her as if to challenge her. He clearly wanted her to be silent, but V was unable to tell whether or not he was telling her as much.

V stepped away from the door, backing away slowly as the streets filled with panicked people, all of which seemed to be fleeing the strangers in black who has descended upon the town like a plage, their intentions unclear but clearly impure, to say the least. In his petrified haste to get clear of their line of sight, V slipped over a small handcart in the isle, earning a glance in his direction. He scrambled behind one of the bookcases just as the individual in black who had been stabbing the old man looked in his general direction, seemingly cheating what had to be certain death.

Horror overtook every muscle in his body as he realized that they were under attack, the impossibility of that reality finally sinking in. He had no idea what could’ve caused this tragic scenario, but that didn’t change a thing. The older man was more than likely dead, something that immediately made V kick himself internally for thinking badly of him just a short while before, but there had to be something he could do about all of this. It didnt take a Ph.D. to figure out that if he stayed where he was any longer, then he would more than likely end up dead. Someone had to get help, and he had to do something to save himself, lest he die at the hands of these mysterious strangers who had come to his quiet little town and painted the white snow-covered streets red with the blood of his neighbors.

V’s veins ran colder than the winter winds as he realized what he had to do. And if he didn’t, he was going to die. There was no time to hesitate. He had to get out of there.

-~-

Hey everyone! I hope you liked this chapter! Getting to explore V’s background a little is going to be interesting, to say the least. I’ll see you all on Friday, but for now, thanks for reading. I hope you’re having a good week! Once again, stay safe out there!

#DMC #Devil May Cry #V #Vitale #V's backstory #My AU #Pre Devil May Cry

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thewritewolf · 5 years

Text

Four Times (and the Lucky One) Chapter 3: Setback

Attempt #3 - Is a torn sweater and a classic dinner/movies Adrien's key to success?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

And so we arrive at the recreation of the scene that inspired this entire fic - this one, by @sweetsweetsweetie, in case you missed it the first time - as well as the midpoint of this short story.

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien sat at his desk, resting his head on his arms as he waited for class to begin. The chill of winter had set in and he was almost grateful for it since that meant that his face was pressed up against the warm softness of his sweater. It was becoming thin in places from how much he had been wearing and washing it lately. He could sympathise - with all these late fall photoshoots and various other activities his father had crammed into his schedule, he was feeling pretty threadbare too.

Marinette passed by and he flashed her a warm smile as she made her way to her seat. She even paused in her conversation with Alya to tell him good morning. Taking her spot behind him, she continued talking. Since he had nothing else to occupy him, Adrien listened in while his eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey girl, isn't that charity thing you're in charge of coming up in a few weeks?"

"Yeah…” Marinette tapped at her desk. “I've got a lot of ideas but I need to start making a concrete plan so that I can submit a request for school funds. I'm going to come in early tomorrow morning to scope out the place and really start making decisions."

“Oh wow, you’ll probably be here before anyone else then, won’t you?”

Adrien’s eyes flew open. Despite the exhaustion he felt in his bones, that sounded a lot like an opportunity. Definitely one that he couldn’t pass up.

Marinette groaned. “Don’t remind me. Just thinking about waking up that early is making me feel tired.”

Their conversation was cut short when class started, but the gears were already turning in his head. This plan was destined for success!

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

Shambling through the deserted halls of the school, Marinette made her way towards her classroom. There was still plenty of time before she actually needed to be there, and she had nowhere better to be. Sure, she could technically go back home and slip into bed, but that would only buy her what? Twenty minutes? As strong willed a fully-awake Marinette COULD be, years of abused alarm clocks and delayed mornings reminded her that she'd end up being late today too. So to class it was.

Her plans were to get as comfortable as possible and fall asleep at her desk. Alya would definitely wake her up before class started. What she didn’t account for, however, was the classroom not being empty. Which might not have been that bad, if it weren’t for the fact that it was Adrien Agreste standing in the middle of the room looking pensively at a sweater sitting on a table.

A sweater which he must have just been wearing since the only thing covering his chest was a sleeveless undershirt. Marinette entered the room hesitantly.

“G-good morning, Adrien!” Nailed it. “What’s, um, what’s the matter?” Not perfect, but she’d take it.

“Oh!” He looked over at her and smiled, making her heart do a backflip. “Hello, Marinette. I’m just trying to figure out how what I’m going to do with my sweater.” He turned back to the piece of clothing in question and held it up. His hand poked through a large rip in the side. “The seam ripped and now I’m stuck here in the cold without it.”

“I could fix it for you!” She winced at how excited she sounded. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind. “Since, I, um, since I have a sewing kit on me most of the time.”

“Really? That’s great!” His eyes sparkled with joy and he offered the ruined sweater to her. “Would you please?”

“Of course! Just give me a few minutes…” She pulled out her miniature sewing kit and sat down at her desk to work. Adrien took Alya’s spot and watched her work.

“So what brings you in so early?”

In her surprise, she almost missed a stitch. “Oh, um, you remember that thing I was telling you just under a month ago?”

“Three weeks ago, actually.” She glanced over to him to see his chin resting on his hand. “That is, if you’re talking about the charity auction.”

“Y-yeah, that. So, ah, I needed to do some scouting for locations and talk to some teachers. Before I make any committees or anything.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Committees? This sounds a lot bigger than I thought it was.”

“Kinda? I, um, I tend to go… a little overboard. Sometimes. You know?”

“I get what you mean,” he smiled. “I can be a little… much sometimes too.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but he seemed perfectly happy with companionable silence. After a few minutes of swift stitches, she’d fixed the sweater. She passed it back to him and smiled at how his face lit up. She watched him slip it over his head and giggled when his mop of perfectly styled hair popped out.

“Thanks, Marinette. You really helped me out here. Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to-”

"I'm free this evening - for once - and I was wondering if you'd like to go out?"

For a moment, her soul left her body and she froze up. This couldn’t be happening. Adrien Agreste did not just ask her out. Then her mind processed what he’d said and she relaxed a little. He didn’t say on a date, he just said to hang out. Like friends.

"Oh! How about dinner and a movie?"

"That sounds great!"

She saw their friends through the glass. They’d gotten here a little early too, but not by much. People were going to start funneling into the school any minute now.

"Awesome! There's Alya and Nino, I'll go tell them!"

Clearly, he wanted to hang out with all his friends, right? They rarely all got to hang out together - surely he was itching for an opportunity to spend an evening having fun. He probably meant that he would pay for her fare when they go out as her reward for fixing his sweater. Yeah. That made sense.

"Yeah, and-wait. Marinette!"

Marinette was so happy that she’d get to spend time with Adrien, so focused on telling Alya and Nino the good news, that she didn’t even notice Adrien groan and bury his face in his hands as she left the room.

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

Adrien was on the verge of having a good time, which was to say he was having a very frustrating time.

He had spent the entire night like that - always so close to what he wanted while being so far away. At dinner, Marinette sat next to him, took a bite off his plate (at his insistence) to try what he had ordered. At the movies, he shared popcorn with the love of his life, saw her face illuminated by the light of the big screen. And yet it was NOT a date and she was painfully unaware of how adorable she was being. Like how her nose crinkled when he made a pun. Or how she gets excited over the good food. All the while Alya and Nino were practically all over each other, being exactly what he wanted to be with Marinette. He felt like his head was going to explode.

It was both a blessing and a curse when they stopped at Marinette’s house and Adrien stepped out to hold the door open for her. When he slid back into the car, he was surprised to see both Alya and Nino staring at him.

“Is… something wrong?” Adrien asked, looking cautiously between them. He was having trouble reading their expressions.

“So, are you going to tell us what tonight was all about, sunshine?” Alya watched him carefully and crossed her arms in front of her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Today was… a fun hangout. Between friends.” As much as the words tasted like ashes in his mouth, that was exactly what the day had been.

“Dude…” Nino tugged on his hat and shook his head. “We’re not blind. There was some kinda something going on in the background. Marinette might have been too caught up in-” He was cut off by a glare from Alya. “Um, things… but we totally noticed. You looked supes frustrated most of the night. When you weren’t making goo goo eyes at M, at least.”

No. No way was he going to have this conversation. The first person to find out his feelings for Marinette was going to be Marinette. Not his prying, if well-meaning friends.

“Sorry, bro. I can’t say anything.” He put a hand on Nino and Alya’s shoulders. “But trust me, guys. WHEN something happens between me and Marinette, you’ll be the first to know.”

Alya’s eyes lit up and she leaned forward to interrogate him further, but Nino pulled her back.

“Sorry, babe. This is your stop. You’ll have to terrify my bro later.”

She glanced rapidly between Nino, Adrien, and the Gorilla, made a face as if she'd sucked on a lemon and sternly pointed at Adrien.

“You better treat her right, centerfold.”

Nino and Adrien rode in silence for a few minutes, Nino only breaking the quiet when they arrived at his home.

Hovering at the car door, he poked his head in and said, “I’m happy for you, bro. You’ll be good for each other, I can already tell.” He grinned and held out his fist. “Good luck, dude.”

Adrien returned his smile and bumped his fist against Nino’s. “Thanks, dude.”

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

Back at home, Adrien collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He wanted to bang his head against his desk in frustration. He had been so close!

Although today hadn’t gone as planned, it hadn’t been a bad time. If he had ever been uncertain about dating her before, he wasn’t now. Not when he saw first hand how amazing a date with her could be. No one could deny that he was getting closer to his goal, either. Maybe actual double dates wouldn’t be too far removed from his future after all? Then they could look back at this and laugh…

Plagg snickered. “I guess the casual approach didn’t work out too well for you, kid.”

“It worked alright,” Adrien said with a frown. “It could’ve worked better, though. My problem was that the date idea was too much like a normal hang out. I need to have a more concrete date in mind when I ask next. Something so romantic that she can’t possibly mistake it for just hanging out.”

“You know what would be even more effective? If you just-hey!” Plagg was cut off when a flying pillow slammed into him. Even from beneath the plush layers of fluff, Adrien could hear Plagg loudly cackling.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #Alya Cesaire #Nino Lahiffe #DJ WiFi #Plagg #ml fanfiction #my writing #Four Times (and the Lucky One)#The Lucky One series

100 notes · View notes

lilypad-make · 4 years

Text

BNHA Fanfic Recs

*Smile* because there are more fic recs !

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016931

A month into his apprenticeship, Shouto comes down sick. Aizawa does his best to care for him—and learns more about Shouto's childhood along the way.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753252

Toshinori hadn't expected another riot to come to light, for which he was responsible. Albeit indirectly.

A photo of All Might was released at a young age, but one detail was striking.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989697

"I didn't realize you could adopt your own son," said Kayama, who looked thoughtful.

"How did you come up with this absurd thought that he was my son?!"

There was a moment of silence before Kan intervened. “So… we always thought he was your illegitimate son. Everything spoke for it. ”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23185138

"Hey, Mrs. Midoriya, do you believe in love at first sight or do I have to go past you again?" All Might again turned his attention to the mother, who was becoming less and less certain as to how she should deal with him.

"... you are in bed, in the hospital, you can't get up," she said carefully, so as not to offend him.

“It doesn't stop me from staring at you. I mean ... I've been watching you for a few hours and wonder what our children would look like."

Mrs. Midoriya seemed speechless and an off-voice just said dryly: "...like Midoriya."

"Todoroki, no!"

THIS FANFIC IS HILARIOUS I’M DYING OF LAUGHTER

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989928

When Izuku awoke, trembling all over, his limbs almost frozen, his breath small clouds in the air, it was pitch black. His teeth clattered, his lungs aching from the cold air. Why was it so cold?

“The problem child has disappeared,” Aizawa proclaimed in a grave voice. Silence prevailed for a few seconds before they jumped up and put on their work clothes to help with the search. Yes, he had expected that reaction, he thought grimly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184208

With his son successor laid up with a nasty case of Quirk Flu, All Might wants nothing more than to take care of his boy. Aizawa just wants to prevent one sick teenage from becoming 20 sick teenagers but practicality like that has never stopped All Might before and it won't stop him down.

It helps that being quirkless renders him immune. Not that he can explain that to Aizawa

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181799

Deaging quirks are incredibly uncommon. So much so that Toshinori doesn't think he's ever seen the effects of one in person. But still, Nedzu has thought of everything, so of course they have protocols in place for this exact situation. Though they may now live in the dorms, it makes no sense for the staff to entrust the safety of a four-year-old Midoriya Izuku to his 15/16 year old classmates.

No. He's being sent home to his mother.

(aka, Midoriya Inko gets her chance at redemption for a mistake she made years ago, and Toshinori Yagi sees another side of the family he's slowly becoming a part of.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173663

Soulmates are forged, not born. They leave their mark on you, and your heart. These bonds we forge leave marks on our hearts and our bodies. A declaration that we love and are loved.

A brief platonic soulmates au centered around Izuku.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066047

Mirai is convinced that Izuku Midoriya is All Might’s secret love child. So why doesn’t his old/former friend want to pick his kid up??

Seems like he has to inform Gran Torino.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22920037

Ochako and Deku reserve one day a week in their busy lives to meet up with one another. Deku breaks their pattern of hot chocolate and comfort food at sleepy restaurants to make dinner at his tiny apartment. A totally laid-back dinner between good friends, so don't get the wrong idea!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172767

Izuku is stuck reliving his past mistakes and regrets, stuck in a never ending cycle of torment, while everyone watches helplessly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22950952

Izuku joins Uraraka for stargazing and makes a few connections he's been missing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16028441

Penguin Random House @penguinrandom

It’s alright, now! Why? Because All Might’s autobiography is here! “All Might: The Price and Principle of Peace” is now available!

[Image: The book cover: the title emblazoned over a photograph of All Might’s last triumph. Toshinori’s fist is held aloft, his tattered cape billowing out behind him. With the helicopter spotlights focused on him and the photograph’s exposure turned up high, he looks angelic.]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23012404

They say you start dreaming of your soulmate as a child, but always forget their face until the day you actually meet them. Izuku doubts he'll ever find his soulmate, so he instead resigns himself to focusing on achieving his goals. That is, until the day a pretty girl keeps him from falling before his U.A entrance exam and everything changes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981859

“Did I hear that correctly?” Ashido asked from behind them. “Uraraka didn’t actually need rescue breathing?” “Um,” said Izuku, “that would seem to be the case, yes.” She grinned wider than Izuku thought appropriate, given that one of her classmates had just nearly drowned. “So there was no reason for you to kiss her like her life depended on it?” His mouth dropped open. “Wh—wh—?!”

Izuku saves Ochaco from drowning, and no one will let him forget how he did it. Ochaco, on the other hand, has forgotten, and is convinced that everyone can read her mind since they seem to know about the very interesting dream she's been having.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317933

Takes place in season 2 episode 25, when Izuku gets out of the police station after the mall scare.

Izuku has always been good at hiding his fear. He's always been able to push through it and stay strong; it's what he's always done. But seeing his favorite hero walking down the alley, he finally feels safe enough to let his walls crumble, and Toshinori is there to pick up the pieces.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008009

"YOU KNOW WHAT?” she burst out. “I’ve had about enough of you all just making assumptions about him and me!” He lifted his head, amazed at her bravery. Uraraka’s cheeks were burning pink, but her expression was hardened and unbending. “If you spent any time at all around us you’d know that we are as serious as we’ve ever been about being Heroes! Also!” She thrust a finger out at Izuku. “He was distracting me way before we started going out, so there!” Nobody said anything for a while then.

Ochaco and Izuku have been going out for months now, and even though everyone seems to think they're a distraction to each other, that's far from the case. Isn't it?...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867849

It was ... no surprise when All Might died suddenly. Nevertheless, his mentor and all other predecessors of One for All stood next to him and were there for him. How could he cry there?

The next morning, photos of All Might's funeral would be circulating on the web and people would tear up their mouths that Izuku was the only one who had taken part with an almost peaceful expression. Izuku would only be able to smile and continue as before, with a side glance at Nana and the First.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975633

“The internet’s been blowing up about you and Mr. Secret Guy. Can I ask about that? Or should I back off?” the show host asked.

She was expecting it. It was still a bit funny, to think people suspected she had a secret Hero boyfriend. “There’s no Mr. Secret Guy. I’m not in a relationship,” she said, chuckling lightly. She didn’t see herself in a relationship – or a realistic one, at least. Yes, she’d fantasized about it; about being with that man who inspired her to do her best just as he did his best like his namesake.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101546

Midoriya is absurdly good at art. Everyone else does their best to be creative in their own messy, unique ways.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22921579

If his face hadn’t been already burned pink by the cold, he would've been blushing because of how close she was. She had snowflakes stuck to the top of her lashes. He wondered how that didn’t bother her.

The cancelation of school for the winter offered the children time to be children. It didn’t snow much in big cities, so the more high-quality winter experience was usually just outside, and holiday resorts took advantage of those open areas where people wanted to escape the tight city and enjoy the freedom of space and adrenalin. Everyone had scattered.

Everyone but him and Ochaco.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/828741

As a child, Toshinori hadn't put much thought into what he would be when he grew up. One day a stranger in green appears in a flash of light, saying he's a hero. And maybe, Toshinori thinks, maybe he could be a hero too.

I’ll be back with more fic recs soon !

#boku no hero academia fic rec #bnha fanfic recs #bnha fanfiction #bnha #boku no hero academia

14 notes · View notes

hawkinspostbite · 5 years

Text

BURN THE WITCH - chapter one

Words: 4,926

MASTERLIST BURN THE WITCH

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc.

Sunlight peered through the cracks in the curtains, Anna opened her eyes, groaning. Her back was sore and her left leg was numb from hanging off the edge of the couch all night. Eleven had a bad night, which forced her out into the living room yet again. The light above the stove turned on. “Another night on the couch?” Dad asked.

“I need my own room.” Anna groaned yet again, sitting up.

“Well…”

“Yeah, I know, “this is only temporary”, “eventually she’ll stop having nightmares”, “you’ll get your own room soon”. May I ask, when is soon?” Her father had began making breakfast for himself, as Anna folded the blankets that she used that night.

“Soon… soon is…” Of course he couldn’t answer. “Soon is when it’s safe.”

Anna rolled her eyes, placing the blankets in the basket next to the television stand. “Okay, whenever that is.” She mumbled.

“Will you please get dressed? And get the kid up too, while you’re at it.” Anna shook her head, walking over to her bedroom door. She knocked gently before turning the handle and going inside. Against the wall, curled up into her pile of blankets was Eleven, for once, looking peaceful.

Anna walked over, sighing as she tapped on the young girl’s shoulder. “Hey, El, it’s time to get up.” Eleven groaned, rolling over to look at her. “I have to get dressed, and Dad’s making food.”

“School today?” She asked, sitting up slowly.

“Yep. It’s Thursday.” Eleven got out from under her covers, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. She walked across the small room, to the calendar that hung on the wall. Anna quickly made up El’s bed, smoothing the covers.

“Thursday.” El read aloud, using her red marker to put an X over the day’s date. “October three-zero.”

“October thirty-ith.” Anna spoke. “It’s the thirty-ith, not three-zero. Okay?”

“Thirty-ith?” El replied.

“Yeah, thirty-ith.” She smiled. “Now go ahead out, I have to get dressed.” El left, closing the door behind her. Anna quickly dressed, finished making her bed, and joined her father and Eleven in the “kitchen”. They ate their breakfasts, Dad gave Eleven her word of the day, and then he left for work.

“Have you seen Mike?” Eleven asked quickly. Anna knew she had been patiently waiting to ask until her father was gone.

“Not since Saturday, but I might be going over to Nancy’s tomorrow.” Anna pulled her coat on and grabbed her keys. Eleven sat on the couch, sadness washing over her. “I know you want to see him.” Anna walked over, sitting down next to her.

“But I can’t.” Eleven mocked Jim’s tone of voice. “That’s stupid!” She whined. “Can’t I see him? With you?”

“No, no- El, you know that’s not up to me.” Anna raised her hands in defense. “Dad’s rules are dad’s rules, they’re there for a reason.”

“You break rules, all the time!” El interrupted.

“I do not!”

“Yes. You sneak out after dark, you open the curtains when he isn’t here, and you never enter with the secret knock.”

Anna was shocked. There were two ways to handle this; pick a fight, and anger the teenaged-girl with psionic powers, or get up and walk away. She chose option two. “Here’s the remote.” She grabbed it off of the coffee table, tossing it at El. “I’m going now. Eat some real food today, make sure your dishes are done, and change out of your pajamas. I’ll be home at four.” And with that, she slammed the door behind her.

From outside she heard El groan in protest. On the walk to her car, Anna was careful to avoid every one of the traps her father had set, in paranoia of trespassers. Seeing her car was never easy, every day it was like a kick in the face with embarrassment, and it took everything in her to remember why exactly she had to drive an old squad car (still painted), to and from school every single day. Why? Due to the addition of Eleven into the Hopper family, Jim decided it be crucial that no other living soul, save for the three of them, could have even an inkling of knowledge as to where they lived. And because the car was registered to the police station, no one would be able to track them back to the cabin.

Anna hated her car. It was ugly, annoying, and embarrassing. The heat worked in the winter, but the air didn’t in the summer, and the radio antenna got snapped off on a chase back when it was a useful police vehicle, so the radio didn’t work. The only form of entertainment she had was her tape player, which lucky for her, had a tape stuck inside of it. Not that she was complaining, for it had Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors” album. She and her dad tried everything, the eject button, digging it out with a butter knife, and just shaking the entire radio column (that was her father’s work), before giving up.

The ride to school was the same boring one, only about fifteen minutes. She passed the station, at which she gave two presses on the horn, to alert her father of her passing by. Then made a left at the library and was welcomed into another marvelous day at Hawkins High School. She parked in her usual spot, noticing that there was a new car parked next to her, a blue Camaro, with California plates. In her rearview she could see Carol, Tina, and Vicky congregating outside of Carol’s car.

Anna got out, walking across the lot to greet her friends. “Morning ladies.” She slapped her palm onto the hood of Carol's car.

“Jesus!” Vicky squealed. “Morning.” She rolled her eyes.

“You just missed a new kid by like, five minutes.” Carol winked at her.

“He’s totally hot.” Tina grinned.

“Nope.” Anna shook her head. “I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“Oh come on Anna, why not?” Tina asked.

“Seriously, a new kid would be perfect for you. He doesn’t know anything about your troubled past-“ Carol said.

“Okay, I am not the one with a troubled past, that’s my dad, and I am not taking the fall for it either. I’ve just spent the majority of my life cleaning up his mess.” She turned to walk towards the school. “I’ve got a lot of shit, that goes on at home, you don’t know about. I don’t have time for a boyfriend, but thanks for the concern. See you at lunch.”

Inside, Anna attended her morning classes, followed by lunch, where she was given an invitation to Tina’s Halloween Bash, and finally introduced to the new kid, to whom she showed no interest. “This is Anna Hopper, her dad’s the Chief of Police.” Tommy grinned from the other end of the table.

“Way to scare him off!” Carol swatted at his arm.

“There’s nothing to scare him away from, C.” Anna glared at her friend. “Look, I’m not interested in a relationship, or anything actually at the moment, so if that’s the only reason Tommy dragged you here, you’re free to go.” She snapped at him.

“My name’s Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He held his hand out for Anna to shake, to which she didn’t comply. “So that’s your car, parked next to mine?”

“Yes.” She replied, not looking up from her food.

“How comes you drive a cop car?” Billy asked.

“Her dad’s paranoid.” Vicky chimed in.

“Bitch!” Anna called to her.

“So you’ve been friends with her all these years, and never been to her house?” Billy asked, curiously.

“Anna moved here four years ago with her dad, and they lived in a trailer, which was kind of dumpy, let’s be real.” Carol explained.

“Seriously?” Anna gasped.

“Well!” Carol defended herself. “We used to go over there all the time, but about a year ago she moved, where? I don’t know, but none of us know where she lives, and none of us have been there.”

“Told you, her dad’s paranoid.” Vicky sighed, poking at her salad.

“So you live a life of secrecy?” Billy asked.

“Not by choice.” Anna replied. “If I had it my way, we’d still be living in New York.”

“She comes from a broken family.” Tina explained.

“Jesus Christ, Tina! It’s his first day here, do you think it’s really appropriate to be telling him my entire life story? Especially if I didn’t explicitly agree to it?”

“Sorry. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Tina looked down at her tray of half-eaten food.

“Yeah, sorry A.” Carol added.

Anna sat down, and the group carried on with lunch as if nothing had ever happened. The rest of the day went by uneventfully, and as the final bell rang, Anna made her way out to the parking lot. Across the way she saw Nancy getting into Steve’s car. They waved at each other, and that was that.

Anna’s friendship with Steve and Nancy, and Jonathan Byers was on the down-low. The four of them had shared an exciting experience the previous year.

Anna had been at home when her dad told her that Will Byers had gone missing. She wasn’t upset, she didn’t have a specific attachment to him, or anyone he was linked to, sure it was sad, but the kid went missing and that was that. A few days later she came across Jonathan in the red room, developing his photos, and that’s when the investigation began. She and Jonathan teamed up to try and find out what happened to his brother, Anna used what information she could find from her father’s work, and Jonathan used what information he could find from his mother’s ramblings. Eventually teamed up with Nancy, and the three discovered where to find the faceless beast. That was also when she had first met Eleven, who had been living in Nancy’s basement, and was hidden by her younger brother Mike and his best friends Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair. Eleven’s existence opened up the discovery of the alternate universe right beneath them, which the boys had dubbed “the Upside Down”, the monster which they had been seeking “the Demogorgon”, and Eleven’s constant running away from “the Bad Men”. While her father and Mrs. Byers performed Will’s rescue mission in the Upside Down, the kids stayed out of sight with Eleven at the middle school, and she, Nancy, and Jonathan went back to the Byers to kill the Demogorgon. In the end, accidentally assisted by Steve, they rid both worlds of the Demogorgon, Will was rescued, but unfortunately, Eleven had disappeared. Cut to two months in the future, Eleven showed up in the woods, right outside of the trailer, and the rest was history, and life as Anna knew it now.

Since Will’s disappearance and reappearance, the small circle of people that knew about the otherworldly happenings in Hawkins had become a secret society of survivors, sworn by the government to never speak about what happened, to anyone. In school, her relationship with Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan was a “Hello, goodbye.” type, and they never stayed in the same area for too long. On the weekends, she would spend what time she wasn’t with the girls, with Jonathan, working on photos and keeping a watchful eye on Joyce and Will for her dad. Anna was instructed by her father to steer extra clear of the kids, for fear of letting Eleven’s presence in the Hopper home slip. Mike had formed a unique bond with her, and quite frankly, his heartbreak over her being gone was hard to watch.

On the way home, she noticed her father’s truck was still at the station. Hopefully he would be home on time, so that she would be saved of having to deal with Eleven’s trust issues with her father.

She pulled off into the dirt path at four o’clock exactly. And reached the house shortly thereafter. One knock, three knocks, then two. “You’re late. It’s four, zero-eight.” Eleven spoke from the kitchen.

“I never promised four, exactly.” Anna stepped inside, Eleven locked the door and turned the sink water off. “Just doing your dishes now?” Anna kicked off her shoes. “What’d you have to eat?”

“Sandwich.” Eleven replied, sitting on the couch.

“PB&J?” She asked, hanging her coat on the coat hook behind the door.

“Yes.” Eleven’s eyes followed Anna as she walked towards their bedroom door.

“You changed out of your pjs. Nice.” El nodded. “I have homework, am I good to go inside for awhile? Dad should be home around six.”

“Yes.” El replied again.

Dad wasn’t home around six, but Anna made dinner anyway. She took her’s into the room, because Eleven promised her that she would eat everything, vegetables first. At seven thirty Anna got a shower, and El followed shortly after. Dad did get home around eight fifteen, El sat at the table with him while he ate, and Anna fell asleep, so deeply that she didn’t wake until the next morning.

The next day was Halloween. “October thirty-first.” Eleven stated. The pair had woken up long before dad, and were already dressed when he awoke. “Boo.” El surprised Anna in the kitchen, wearing her bed-sheet as a costume. She had cut two eyes in it, to be a ghost.

Anna flipped the piece of French toast she was cooking. “Nice.”

“Trick or treat?”

“Not my choice kid.” From the other side of the tiny cabin, Anna heard her father’s footsteps. “You’d better hide now if you want to scare him though.”

Eleven retreated back to their room, shutting the door just enough. “Morning.” Dad cleared his throat, inspecting what his oldest was making for breakfast. “What’s cooking?”

“French toast.” Anna could hardly suppress her laughter.

She heard El’s footsteps from behind them. “Oh, Jesus!” Dad turned around, slightly spooked by the young girl’s presence.

“Ghost.” El replied.

He rolled his eyes at Anna, walking over to the table. “Yeah, I see that.”

“Halloween.”

“Sure is.” Anna plated each of their food and sat it on the table. “But right now it’s breakfast, okay? Come on, let’s eat.”

Anna grabbed a cup for coffee for her dad, and two glasses of juice for her and El. “They wouldn’t see me.”

“Who wouldn’t see you?”

She sat down across from her father. “The bad men.” She spoke at the same time as Eleven.

“What are you talking about?”

“Trick or treat.” El replied.

“You want to go trick-or-treating?” He looked between Eleven and Anna.

“She’s never been.” Anna shrugged, taking a sip of her juice. Eleven nodded, and Jim shook his head in response.

“You know the rules.”

“Yes, but-“

“Yeah, so you know the answer.” He got up and guided her to her seat next to Anna.

“No, but, they wouldn’t see me!”

“No. Hey, I don’t care.” He attempted to take the sheet off of her. “I don’t care, alright? You go out there, ghost or not, it’s a risk. We don’t take risks, alright? They’re stupid, and?”

“We’re not stupid.” Eleven huffed, looking at Anna for guidance.

“Exactly. Now, you take that off, sit down and eat. Your food’s getting cold.” El shrugged the sheet off, leaving it on the floor. Dad poured syrup onto his food, handing it back to Anna she did the same to her’s and then to El’s, who had no syrup-portion-control. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. How about I get off early tonight, and I buy us a bunch of candy, and we can sit around and get fat and we watch a scary movie together? Anna, you’ll be home at the same time, right?”

“Actually, I was going to go to-“ She began to explain that she had plans to go to Tina’s Halloween party, but her father gave her “the eyes”, so she stopped herself. “Yeah, I’ll be home.”

“How’s that for a compromise?” Dad asked.

“Compromise?” Eleven replied.

“C-o-m, promise. Compromise.” Anna sounded the word out for her. “That can be your word for the day. Okay? Compromise, it’s in-between, it’s like halfway happy.”

“By five-one-five?” Eleven looked over to him.

“Five fifteen. Yeah, sure.”

“Promise?” El looked at him, then at Anna.

“Yes.” Dad replied.

“Of course.” Anna sighed.

“I promise.”

“Halfway happy.” Eleven said.

The trio finished their breakfasts together. Jim did the dishes, while Anna helped Eleven make their beds. “I’ll walk out with you today.” Dad said, waiting by the door for his daughter. Anna nodded, pulling on her boots and coat.

“Good food today, dishes done by four.” El nodded from the couch. “And if you put that sheet in the laundry basket I can show you how to sew patches onto it tomorrow, okay?” Eleven jumped up, rushing to put the sheet in the laundry area. “Lock the door!”

She and her father walked down to their cars in silence. “So dad, about that party tonight-“

“No.”

“Dad, please.”

Jim opened the door to his truck. “No means no. You promised El that you’d hang out with us tonight, and promises are promises. She really counts on you kid. Besides, what’s gonna happen at that stupid party anyway?” Anna rolled her eyes. “A bunch of kids in stupid costumes are gonna drink themselves silly until I have to send Callahan in there to break it up.”

“Yeah, because we know that’s always successful.” Anna muttered.

“I’m sorry, kid. But there will be other parties.”

“I know.”

Jim opened his arms, and Anna stepped inside, the two of them embracing for a moment. “See you at five fifteen.”

“See you then.” She sighed, getting in her car and watching as her pulled away.

Anna pouted all the way to school. She had spoken to Nancy a few days before, after she had learned that Nancy might have convinced Jonathan to go to Tina’s party. “Come on Jonathan, it’s perfect!” Anna had exclaimed.

“Jack and Wendy Torrance?” Jonathan asked, suspiciously. “But we aren’t married.”

“Yes and we’re not dating either, but two friends can go to a Halloween party as Jack and Wendy Torrance if they want to.” Anna sighed. “The costumes are very functional. Guaranteed, we both already have everything we’d need in our closets, right now. Plus, they’d be super warm.”

“I’ll think about it.” Jonathan sighed, knowing that if he could make Anna happy for even one night, he would consider it a win.

“Yes! Thank you!”

So she had her costume, she just needed to think of her escape plan, and execute it. Tina’s party started at eight, by then, they should be well onto their second scary movie, Anna could complain that she got a stomach ache from eating candy and then “go to bed” for the night. Then after El and dad were asleep, she could sneak out. The plan was perfect, considering that El got tired by seven on even a weeknight. Foolproof, immaculate, fabulous. She would return in the morning, showered and in-bed, in just enough time to get a good amount of sleep for Saturday chores.

“So, you gonna make it to the party?” Tina asked, upon Anna’s arrival.

“Yes, why do you ask?” Anna shut the car door behind her.

“Because you pulled in about five minutes ago and didn’t even realize it. I figured you were planning how you’re gonna get there.”

“Yeah, well my dad wants me to watch scary movies with him and eat candy all night, so I have to figure something out between now and then.”

“Nancy said you were going with Jonathan Byers as the couple from “The Shining”… I didn’t know you were friends with him.” Tina said, kicking a rock while they walked towards the school.

“Um, yeah. Childhood friends, we talk here and there. But that’s if he even shows up.”

“So if he doesn’t, you’re just gonna come as Wendy, without her husband?” Tina stopped.

“Yes, you and I will understand it so what else does it matter? Everybody will be drunk anyway.” Anna began walking again, a blast of warm air hitting her as she stepped inside the school.

“You’re right.” Tina sighed. “Besides, you’ll look cute no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Oh, my dear. So sweet to me.” Anna laughed, kissing the tips of her fingers and pressing them to Tina’s cheek. The pair walked to their lockers, and began their day.

School let out at three-thirty, as usual, and Anna wasted no time throwing all of her things into her locker and making a beeline to her car. If she had to suffer through a scary movie marathon with her dad and El, she wanted it to happen quick and painlessly. Maybe if she was lucky she’d fall asleep during the movie, and miss the whole thing.

At home, Eleven unlocked the door after hearing the secret knock. Anna discarded her shoes and coat and went into the bedroom to lay out her costume underneath her covers. Granted, her outfit wasn’t exact, because she had to do with what she had laying around, but she made it work. She had denim overalls, a multicolored flannel top, and a tan turtleneck sweater underneath, and for footwear, her brown workboots would have to do.

Anna joined El on the couch, the pair flipping through various television stations and stopping to watch a show occasionally. Five o’clock came and went, as did six, and seven. Neither of them had eaten, for they knew they would fill up on candy. Anna sighed, getting up. “El, do you know how to keep a secret?”

“Yes. Why?” Of course, El was a secret herself.

Anna looked at the clock. “Dad’s not coming home early, clearly. And I have somewhere to go.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, with my friends.” Anna walked over to the back of the T.V. “I want to go hang out with them, but dad wouldn’t let me. Now that he’s not coming home, it will need to be a secret. I’ll help you wheel this into the room, and make you food before I go. But you can’t tell dad where I went. Promise?”

“Promise?”

“I don’t break my promises El, I never break my promises.” Anna held her pinky out for El to grab with her’s.

“Promise.” El linked her pinky with Anna’s.

“Alright, let’s get moving then.” Anna unplugged the television and she and Eleven wheeled it into their bedroom, positioning it just right, so that El could watch it comfortably from bed. “I’m gonna get dressed, go ahead and pick out what you want to eat.”

Eleven shut the door as she left, allowing Anna to get dressed. She joined El in the kitchen, heating her food up in the microwave. “See you in the morning.” She smiled as Eleven locked herself and her food into their room.

“Goodnight Anna.” Eleven called as she left.

From the porch Anna could hear the locks click, and she carefully made her way through the woods and into town. At the corner of Trestle and Jojo she came upon the payphone, and quickly sliding to quarters into the slot, she dialed Tommy’s house-phone. “Yo, Tommy speaking.”

“Hey, it’s Anna. Can you pick me up?”

“Well, well, well, managed to break out of prison tonight?”

“Yeah, for one night only. Now can you get me or not, I’m right down the block from the station and I’m gonna get caught!”

“Sure thing Hopper, I’ll be there in ten.”

“Make it five-“

“Five! I’ll be there in five!” Tommy sighed, hanging up.

Anna kept her head hung low while she waited for Tommy, becoming paranoid that every single passing car would be her father discovering her escape. If the party was at Carol’s, she could’ve walked. Carol lived on Pine Street, which was only a ten-minute walk from the cabin. Or even Tommy, who lived in Loch Nora. But Tina lived around the corner from Steve Harrington’s house, which meant a perfect party house, surrounded on two sides by woods stretching for miles, and very few neighbors to be found.

Tommy came, music blasting, and Anna quickly climbed inside. “No Carol?”

“Nah, she went to Vicky’s after school.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. Last thing I need is the chief’s daughter pissed at me for no reason. You’ll be having your dad pull me over or some shit like that.” Anna and Tommy laughed, and they chatted the whole way to the party.

Inside, Tina was surprised to see Anna in attendance. “They said you wouldn’t make it!” She pointed excitedly over to Carol and Vicky. “But I knew you’d get out!”

“You look warm.” Carol snickered, handing Anna a cup.

“It’s cold outside?” Anna said, taking the cup.

“Drink up, it’ll only make it worse.” Carol patted her on the shoulder and guided her friends outside.

The girls mingled here and there for a bit, Vicky and Tina found random boys to scamper off with, Tommy was off bullying people with new kid Billy, and that left just Carol and Anna. “So Tina told me you were supposed to have another half to your costume? Jonathan Byers?”

“Yeah, and? Like I told her, he’s a childhood friend. Who cares, he didn’t show up anyway.”

Through the window she could see that Steve and Nancy had just arrived, and Billy and Tommy were already taunting them. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of the liquid in her cup. “Want another?” Carol asked. “I’ll go get.”

Anna nodded. “Thank you.” That would be three drinks, and then that was it. She needed to be able to sneak into the house with a still-functioning motor system.

Tina had made a Halloween mix specifically for her party, adorned with all of the girl’s favorite songs on it. The portion that was currently playing must’ve been mixed for Anna, because all she had heard in the past ten minutes was Fleetwood Mac, not that she was complaining. “Drink for you.” A new voice came into play.

Anna turned around, coming face to face with Billy. “What’s your costume?” She laughed, taking the cup from his hand.

“Don’t know, but my shirt got wet.”

“So that’s why it’s off?”

“Yeah. Carol told me to give you that.”

“Thanks.” Anna took a sip, nodding her head to the music.

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” Billy scrunched his nose.

“You don’t?”

“No, just never pegged you for a hippie.”

“I’m not a hippie.” Anna turned back to watch the trees. “Maybe a spiritualist, but not a hippie. I’m going for a walk, you coming?”

Before Billy could reply, Anna was walking into the woods. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“I’m not afraid of a few trees Hargrove. Come on.” Anna assumed he was following her, by the sound of his heavy footsteps behind her. “You know, they say that Stevie Nicks is a witch.”

“You believe it?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve read a lot about her, and witchcraft. Even have myself a few crystals-“

“Are you a witch?” They came to a small clearing in the woods.

“No. Just curious.” She finally turned to face him again. “But things like that aren’t totally impossible… Not around here at least.” Anna sighed. “Hawkins is tainted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Weird things happen around here. Random power surges, stuff you can’t really explain with common knowledge.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“My dad.” Anna dumped the rest of her cup onto the ground. “And first-hand experience. But there are some things you should know about this place. Things that will keep you safe. If you’re smart.”

“So what are they?”

“Never leave your house after dark, alone.

Always lock your doors.

Leave the curtains closed at night, and make sure there’s at least one light on in your house. Just incase-“

“Incase what?”

“You would know it if you’d seen it.”

“And stay away from government facilities.”

“What’s wrong with the government-“

“Sworn to secrecy.” She held her hand over her mouth. “It’s all for the safety of yourself. You can ask anybody, but not many will tell you the rules because everyone’s too afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“What’s in the dark.”

Billy’s eyes widened with fear. He couldn’t quite find the right words to respond with. “I think I’m gonna head back now.”

“Be careful.” Anna called.

“You’re not coming?” He turned to look at her.

“No. I’m gonna hang behind, take a long walk back. I’ll meet you back in ten, promise.” Billy nodded, smiling back at Anna.

She watched as Billy’s shadow faded into black, the moon and stars providing little to no light for her to walk. She began to follow him, taking her time, enjoying the stillness of the woods. She tripped on a fallen tree, falling and slicing her hand on a broken branch. “Shit!” Anna cursed, sitting on her knees. She couldn’t see her wound, but from the wetness that she felt in her palm, she figured it was pretty deep. She wiped her palm onto her pants-leg, the material becoming stained with blood. Anna began to walk again, more careful of her surroundings.

Behind her she heard a snap. It was most likely Billy, trying to come around a tree and scare her. So she stopped and stood. “Very funny Hargrove, but your cover’s been blown.” There was no response. “You can come out now.”

She was met with another twig snap.

“Hargrove? I’m serious, come out now!”

Another snap.

“Billy?”

Another snap, closer.

And then the world fell away.

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