#also i tried doing a little bit of research to see where ev might find the golden fredbear plushie in the game

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Going on a Boardwalk

   Imagine: You and the Bad Batch go on a boardwalk by the ocean!

(Author’s Note: Happy Bad Batch eve!!!!)

   You arrive at sunset.  The sky is a striking orange which is beginning to fade into dark blue, with the horizon above the ocean painted with all sorts of pastels in between the two shades.  The group sets foot on the creaking boardwalk and looks ahead at the long row of stands and shops that goes for miles.  Omega is “ooh”ing and “aw”ing at all the lights, and she pointed excitedly at the rides down by the pier.

   And so, the Bad Batch begins the trek along the boardwalk.

   Hunter’s first instinct is to watch Omega and smile at her reaction to the location.  There’s a pretty decent crowd, so he makes sure to keep an eye on her.  If you’re his significant other, you may be used to having to share your Sergeant since he was responsible for the squad...but it’s a boardwalk and it’s supposed to be fun, so you encourage him to relax.  Hunter eventually is able to let go and enjoy himself, entwining his fingers with yours and walking with you.  His favorite part of the boardwalk so far is hearing the crash of the waves nearby, hearing the seagulls, and feeling the salty air.  He absolutely loves glancing beside him to see you smiling and appreciating the sights too.

   Tech spends the first few minutes on his datapad gathering whatever intel he could about the shops they have and whatnot.  He rarely goes into a situation without research simply because he likes to be prepared and he likes to have information whenever his brothers ask a question.  After that, he is quite happy to simply savor the scenery.  If you’re his date, he’ll want to hold your hand the whole way as you walk and take in the things to do.  Tech is interested in boardwalk games and arcades, and though he might not say so right away, you can see him staring whenever passing by one.

   Echo is smiling a lot.  His mood is light as his gaze wanders the stands and sees all the happy people walking by.  This was the vacation that was long overdue, and he was going to enjoy it.  Lots of things grab his attention: the food, the games, the rides.  Omega convinces him to go on a ride with her later.  If you’re his significant other, he’d be at your side the whole time, holding your hand.  He’d rather let you pick what you want to do or see first.

   Wrecker is in awe of all the things you can do and see in one place.  He and Omega are chattering about all the rides they want to go on later at the pier.  He is pretty fixated on the food for now.  If you’re his significant other, you may find that he goes from holding your hand to running toward whatever catches his eye, which happens often.  He’s pretty fixated on food and most likely won’t move on until he has something to eat.  Ever the gentleman, he wants to be sure you get something too.

   Crosshair remains at your side as his sharp eyes take everything in.  He likes to follow the rear of the group.  Normally, he isn’t one for public displays of affection, but with all the young men running around in groups and after noticing the other couples walking hand-in-hand, he feels the need to mark you as his.  You’ll feel his hand gently take yours, and when you glance over he is already gazing at you.  He’s content to go wherever you want to go and just enjoys seeing you happy.

   Omega is super excited and spends the first fifteen or so minutes planning to go on rides and trying to get her brothers to volunteer to take her.  Her eyes are aglow from the lights reflecting in them.  There are people who stand in front of the shops playing with whatever toy or fad was in to try and draw in customers, and Omega would definitely be drawn in.  She’d want to play with the bubble machines and robo pets even if for a few minutes before moving on.  

   After walking farther down the boardwalk, the Batch finds themselves drawn to different things, so they agree to separate for a little while.

   Hunter will explore the shops with you, but he is most drawn to the edge of the boardwalk where he can watch the sun go down over the ocean.  If you’re his date, he would take the opportunity of having the others distracted to just shower you with affection.  He doesn’t make a scene or anything, but he smiles warmly at you,  gives your hand a little kiss, and kisses your forehead in between ganders at the ocean.  Eventually, he can’t resist anymore and tilts your chin to meet your lips with his own in a tender kiss just as the sun dips beneath the horizon.

   Tech wants to play some arcade games, if you’re up for it.  He enjoys showing off his intellect and skill, but sometimes he likes a good game of chance where anything can happen.  He can calculate probability for those scenarios, but not much beyond that.  He also really loves watching you.  He’ll stand behind you with his chest pressed to your back and watch you play your favorite game.  His absolute favorite is to go up against you in a two-player game.  He loves the competition and when you playfully talk smack when he gets cocky.  If Tech wins, he’ll want a kiss as his prize.

   Echo will gladly go along with whatever his significant other wants to do first.  If you want to look at the ocean, he is more than happy to do it with you.  If you’d rather get something to eat, he’s in.  One thing he does want to do during your time together is browse the gift shops and pick up a souvenir.  He’d treat you to something like matching oversized hoodies with the boardwalk logo on them or nice mugs to use for caf aboard the Marauder.  If you tried hard enough to convince him, he might even agree to get those matching couple shirts displayed in the windows like “her king” and “his queen” or something customized.  He playfully rolls his eyes as you hold one of the shirts up in front of him, but he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a loving kiss.

   Wrecker definitely wants to grab something to eat first.  There are so many different places that he can’t decide which one to commit to for his first boardwalk meal.  He ends up getting a little something from a few different places.  Pizza, hotdogs, fries… He gets enough for both of you to share, and the two of you would find a nice spot at a table near the edge where there’s a lovely view of the ocean.  After the two of you are full, he’d be more attentive and open to whatever you wanted to see next, holding your hand and giving you kisses.

   Crosshair is fine with letting you lead the way to whatever you wanted to do first.  He is enjoying all of the sights with you, and that’s more than enough for him.  However, if you were to ask if there’s anything he’d like to see in particular, he wouldn’t mind stopping in one of the shops with henna tattoos and edgy t-shirts.  He’d get himself an oversized hoodie to wear for a little while before pulling it down over your form when the sun disappeared behind the horizon and it got colder outside.  He’d smile at you as you hugged yourself in the air and sighed in contentment: That new hoodie smell would be mingled with his own scent.  He takes your hand again and the two of you continue on your way.

   Omega tags along with one of her brothers for a while and ends up getting something to eat and a toy from one of the shops to keep tucked under her arm as she explores.  She begs Hunter to let her get a temporary tattoo.   He’s hesitant because she’s young and he doesn’t want her to think she has to impress the group by getting a real tattoo someday, but since it’s only a temporary one just for fun, he decides it’s okay.  Omega gets a little seahorse and starfish on the back of her hand.

   Next up are the rides!  The group reunites and heads over to the pier to buy some tickets.  With the sun down, the rides are all lit up in the dark.

   Hunter won’t pressure you to go on anything if you don’t like rides, and he will probably only go on a couple of rides with Omega to make her happy, but will spend most of the time at your side.  If you do want to go but are a little nervous, he’ll gladly hold your hand and tease you playfully until you go with him.  If you are the kind of person who loves to go on all the rides, he’ll go on a few with you and stand by and hold your things while you go on more.

  Tech will definitely go on some rides if you want to.  Otherwise, he will try one or two on his own and be content with standing back and watching everyone else alongside you.  He might get some recordings of Wrecker’s screams on the really high ones that Omega managed to convince him to go on.  If you do go on crazy rides, Tech will film your reaction to play back and tease you lovingly about with that cute smirk on his face.

   Echo would rather watch the others have their fun.  He gets a little salty and says Tech’s wild flying is more than enough for him.  However, Omega somehow got him to agree  to go with her before, so he’ll keep his word and go on a ride with her.  If you enjoy rides, he will also make an exception for you too.  However, if you’d rather watch the others, the two of you can stand near the ride and wave as they go.

   Wrecker loves fast rides, but still is terrified when it comes to heights.  He’ll tolerate a rollercoaster that goes in a few loops, but if it’s the kind that climbs agonizingly slow to the top and then flies down a steep drop from a few hundred feet up, he’ll be covering his eyes and screaming.  Him and Omega stick to the ones that aren’t too bad.  If you enjoy rides, Wrecker will be happy to go on them with you.  He’ll even accompany you on one of the high coasters if you insist on going by yourself, because he’s worried for you and wants to protect you even if it scares the heck out of him.  If you don’t like rides, he’ll probably still go on a few with Omega.  The two of them will wave at you and grin adorably.

   Crosshair is not scared one bit and will do the craziest ride on the pier, if challenged.  It makes him the perfect person to go on rides with if you’re a little scared.  He’ll go on anything with you, keeping calm and holding your hand even if you’re totally freaking out.  Doesn’t matter if you want to go on thirty rides or just one, he’s down.  If rides aren’t your thing, he’s also fine to stand with you and watch the others.  Better watch out, if he feels the need to show off, he will go on the craziest ride just to make a point.

   Omega wants to go on every ride within reason.  There are height limits to some, so she’ll obviously avoid those.  Her and Wrecker are buddies when it comes to rides since he;s the Bad Batcher who enjoys them the most, although she’ll manage to get Echo and Hunter to go with her on a few.  And if everyone else is done with rides, Tech or even Crosshair will go on one with her.

   The squad will turn and head back toward the exit.  They may stop at a few stands on the way back to see anything they missed on the way up.  Omega is exhausted, so one of the brothers carries her back.

   When you get back to the ship, everyone is tired and heads to their bunks.  You get cozy with your Bad Batch SO and drift off to sleep...

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter reader insert #crosshair reader insert #tech x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #tech reader insert #echo reader insert #wrecker reader insert #bad batch reader insert #bad batch imagine #bad batch headcanons #bad batch preferences #bad batch story

[seths-wife]

Theory: why is Seth Twiright the demon of wrath? What's his backstory?

Note: this theory tries its best to be as objective as possible in explaining and deducing facts basing on only what is known in the novels and not basing on personal preferences and sensibilities, just cold gathering of the facts and trying to draw plausible conclusion. That doesn't mean i'm right, necessarily.

Index:

1) Demon of wrath or demon of pride? (Biblical references and discordance of themes).

2) Was Seth a victim of abuse? (Can we draw this conclusion basing only on what we know?)

3) That one comic by Ichika

4) Conclusion

Chapter 1: demon of wrath or demon of pride?

Seth is a really peculiar character: the sin he's represented by doesn't seem to be...displaying that much, contrary to those of the other demons in this series.

Gilles is clearly lustful (basing on the catholic religion definition of it, at least) seen his high sex drive.

Vlad is not really explained but he's a cook so he must be obsessed with food (joke), also his interactions with Banica seem to suggest a morbid curiosity of his to try new foods for hedonistic pleasure, no matter if it's immoral and illegal to eat those.

Marie Annette is a really prideful human/demon seen her few lines in the entire series, like "bow down to me" without any legitimate reason.

Eve...well...on another theory about that...

Rahab is clearly envious when also other people get what she has, seen that she's basically the ec version of Ayano Aishi and a big stereotypical yandere, at least in one part of the narrative.

Salem (does he even exist? (joke)) is an economist so he must be obsessed with money and gathering earthly and perishing goods. (joke)

I won't talk about Adam Moonlit as the demon of greed here as it's for another topic.

But Seth? When in the series does he show unrighteous wrath? Do we see him get angry outbursts and go around beating up and killing people because he's angry at them?

No.

On the contrary, in the whole series Seth seems to be pretty calculating and cold, and he doesn't seem to be really excessively troubled by any behavior or at least he doesn't really show a strong vengeful attitude towards them.

Yes, he might get on bad mood when his plans don't succeed as he expected to, but he never goes like "you'll pay for ruining my plan" or something. He proceeds with his plans, trying to adjust the latters in order to fit the new situation.

Actually, sometimes he seems to find amusing and funny when people try to kill him and unmask (pun or not lol) him for his evil bahaviour, like when Adam tried to kill him and the latter was surprised he couldn't succeed since Seth outsmarted him, or Gammon when he confronted him about brainwashing Miroku.

It's as if Seth finds funny when people are frustrated because of him, it soothes his ever-roaring mind and boredom.

For months, i've thought that Seth should have been the demon of pride because of his attitude in the crime novel and because it fit him better as for the Biblical references:

We see multiple instances in the crime novel that Seth likes himself very much: he loves the fact that he consideres himself to be the best scientist in the country™ as he uses this bunch of words everytime he introduces himself (both as Horus and as himself), also he considers himself to be very handsome to the point he doesn't want to change his face because it would be "such a terrible crime" (i mean, i also think he's hot but Seth, calm down, what the hell...).

But his pride doesn't end with him flaunting his intelligence and hotness.

There are also other instances of Seth's pride that are even more remarkable.

Like for example, the whole matter of Seth making artificial humans (so called "ghoul children") mimicking the creation of the "gods" in the series. This can be considered a matter of pride, as he wants to act as the "gods", he thinks he's able to be on par of them.

Well lol, gods...i always found pretty unrealistic how we got from human scientists with high tech from almost omnipotent beings that can cast lightening wherever they want, make ladies pregnant and instill thoughts and visions in people in a single arc while being trapped inside of a spaceship. This always provoked some strong cognitive dissonance within me, this sounds like a stretched, inappropriate and unrealistic even if they have big tech. That's why i call them "gods wannabe". They're still humans playing God after all.

But that's besides the point.

Even more remarkable is this other line, right after quoting the achievements of other "gods" in the series:

"In that case—

I am the god who creates “evil”.

Seth is literally and explicitly placing himself in the place of the gods, considering himself to be a god on par of the pillar ones in the series.

And this is very coherent basing on the fact he should be the parallel of the Biblical serpent, the demon who thought he was on par of God and fell because of pride.

So it would have had much more sense to have Seth as the demon of pride.

So when and why is seth the demon of wrath since in the series it looks more like he's the demon of pride?

His motive? Not really...Seth doesn't seem to act because of some sort of anger as his main motivation is to "follow his h.e.r.s nature and make himself 'new friends' (his own definition of friends)".

Then i think we have no choice than look at his backstory and see if we can spot some unrighteous anger there.

Chapter 2: is Seth a victim of abuse and angry at his mother?

The vast majority of the theories around about the reasons of Seth's evil are based off the fact that Seth might have gone through motherly abuse that provoked him some childhood traumas back when he was a little white and red mask.

Those assertions are usually backed up by pieces of the short story "Outlaw and lychgate".

Let's look at them.

The most quoted line about this issue is:

“My, and what sort of dish is that?”

“It’s not really much of a dish. You just splash some curry powder and ketchup on a sausage. My old ma used to make it for me a lot when I was a child.”

“Just like mom used to make, hm. That sounds quite nice. My mother never did any home cooking for me.“

Well...from this particular line, fans have begun to speculate than maybe his mother starved him or refused to cook for him.

But is it necessarily the case? It can be a possible interpretation but we don't know how masks work in this series or whether or not they need to eat, especially since they don't have a mouth or a digestive system of some sort.

It can also be that Seth was just curious about food in the line upwards since as a mask maybe he could not experience food, given that he couldn't physically eat when he was a mask.

This doesn't necessarily refer to an abusive situation of a mother refusing to provide food and care for her son.

There is also another instance in which Seth spoke about his mother.

"I often hear strangers tell me that they can’t tell what I’m thinking.

Even my own mother said so, before she died.

That’s why, to get her to understand at least a little bit, I shot her in the forehead.

To this day I still remember how stopped moving, her mask cracked in two.

That was the first murder I committed."

Ok, the fact that his mother "didn't understand him" could have been because of various reasons:

1) maybe she didn't try to understand him and neglected him.

2) maybe Seth became too different from his mother since he contracted hers and she couldn't understand and relate to him anymore even if she tried to.

3) Seth is just too cryptic or changes his mind too fast (probably because of his boredom) when it comes to expressing his true intentions or having certain intentions therefore people have big trouble understand him.

I would go for 3 since Seth also explained that not only his mother didn't understand him but also various other characters, so it's not necessarily true that Seth's mother just refused to listen and understand him, it could have been that Seth was too cryptic or that she couldn't relate to a her.

Anyways, we don't have a lot of info about this but i don't think it is correct to see a mysterious passage in just one possible way.

And also i wouldn't like for Seth to be "he's evil because mommy wasn't nice therefore he's angry and wants to make everyone like him and destroy everything uwu" because:

1) that's a really misused trope.

2) it doesn't properly explain why Seth did what he did in the crime novel, it's clear that there has to be an even deeper motivation that made him do those horrific things: abuse is too much of a simplistic and lazy motivation given his role.

Also there is no specific mention of anger and resentment even if there could be.

So where can we see that Seth is angry?

Chapter 3: that one Ichika comic.

Let's look at this one comic.

It is kinda difficult to understand what it means but the face resembles Seth's human form a bit and also this comic shows a theme of anger against the human creators of the first period since the comic seems to be talking about the second one "in this world where everything is an extension" (the second period is a virtual parallel reality to the first one in the series).

Seth seems to be pretty aware of the first period.

I think so because Kiril (his clone) at one point gained back the memories of his original.

Who? Seth? Pale? (That twist complicated things a whole lot).

I will go for Seth since in the series he's always referred to as the original talking about his "clones".

Kiril with Seth's memories came up with "Vocaloid, huh?!", showing awareness of the knowledge of vocaloid (since the first period is similar to the real world in the series) but i don't think this is an info Kiril learnt on his own but he took from Seth's memories since he was a researcher of parallel worlds and wouldn't have been out of place for Seth to learn about the first period.

So, given that Seth is the one of the comic and he's talking about the humans of the first period, he seems to be angry at the fact he was born to be an her (let's remember the humans of the first period started the her problem for their own personal gain) and in the society of the second period he's seen as a problem because of that.

Therefore Seth in his anger invites people to blame the creators instead of him since he doesn't think to have a free will and has no other choice than being evil because of those humans who "made him this way".

Funny how the same topic is faced with Irina and Levia in the duel. And funny how Levia in this series seems to also be a victim of her own pulsions and can't really be a moral authority in this, again, gods wannabe. They have their morals inspired by their originals who made their avatars who have tainted them with a virus, so they can't create, define or judge good and evil themselves.

So funny.

Chapter 4: conclusions.

So i think this is a plausible reason Seth might be the demon of wrath. But still, i wonder how it is that Seth is happy later on to follow those pulsions he thinks he can't control (given by humans) and doesn't try to fight back the instincts.

Maybe he accepted and got happy with his disease or he just resigned that that was his destiny thinking that he had no choice.

I don't know if i will make anymore theories after this, since i want to go on and make content for something else.

#evillious chronicles #evillious #seth twiright

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Only Vampires

(Story Post)

Nari wasn't sure why he trusted these two vampires, but he wanted to know what they knew and so he followed them to their home. They didn't live more than a block north of where the library stood. They must've lived there a long time to afford such a big house, but then again, he had no idea what the housing market was like here. Either way, any active and diligent vamp over 100 years old could secure themself considerable wealth if they tried. Nari himself hadn't focused on capital during the majority of his life though, but he still did well for himself. The front doors of the house were very big, with stained glass windows, but Wesley and Everett took him around to the back door which was average sized and let no light in. This wasn't an issue right now as it was an hour to midnight, but he guessed that any daytime travel came through here, so they'd grown accustomed to it.

Inside was a small mudroom with another door at the other end. Nari waited for Everett to take off his shoes before he removed his own because wasn't sure what the traditions were in this country, but he was only further confused when Wesley took his shoes off but Everett kept them on. “Um, shoes on or off?” Nari had to ask. Wesley wacked Everett's leg with his loafer. “Shoes off, please.” Nari was relieved and did as told. “Alright.” “I'm not sure why we adopted that,” Everett said, reluctantly removing his footwear and then promptly putting on a pair of slippers. “My family always wore their shoes inside, his family wore shoes inside… Not to mention, it doesn't matter at all what Wesley wears.” “It's for our housemates,” Wesley said. “We have several housemates from across the world, you'll find Nari. The general consensus has been shoes off. We do our best to be accommodating.” He then proceeded to pull out a set of wheel slippers and socks and maneuvered them onto his chair. Nari thought for a second and then raised a hand. “I hope you don't think I need somewhere to stay. I'm well established.” “No, no,” Wesley said. “We just like to help anyone when it comes to library matters. As you may have noticed, it is not very accessible to all vamps of all shapes, abilities, and colours. We like to help anyone find the knowledge they need.” Nari nodded. “I see. So you steal the books for them.” “I told you, we borrow them,” Everett said as he led them through to the main hall. “Evie does think of himself as a modern-day Robin Hood of Knowledge, though,” Wesley said. The main hall was a lot more modern than Nari expected for a house apparently full of vampires. It was open concept with a lovely kitchen with granite counter tops. Further on was the living room and stairs, both up to the next floor and down to the basement. An elevator had also been installed beside the stairs for easier access to all floors. Nari’s hosts took him down to the basement, which was set up as a games room and study. There was pool, and darts, and even a pinball machine on one side. Some lounge chairs, a sofa, and a set of bookshelves on the other. There, they found another pair of vampires, one with her nose in a book, the other passed out on the couch, an open book on his chest. “Ah, glad some of you are here,” Wesley said going over to the reading nook. “Inaya, please meet Nari. We met him at the library.” The conscious vampire got up and smiled. She wore a hijab and had big round eyes framed with detailed eyeliner. She offered a hand to Nari. “Nice to meet you. Are you looking at a room?” “No, no, I’m just getting a little extra help with my research,” Nari said shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve never met, well, a vampire like you.” “A hijabi vampire?” Inaya chuckled. “Me neither. That’s why I’m here.” “To find more?” Nari asked. “No, to learn about being a vampire,” Inaya said. “I didn’t know anything about them really until I was turned, and I didn’t have any other vampires around to teach me. Figuring out how to be a vampire and muslim at the same time is difficult. Blood is haram, you see.” “Ah.” Nari nodded. “Have the books been helpful?” “Some, yes. Wesley seems to know how to find me good reads,” Inaya said. “I’ve tried entering the library on my own, but it’s always been a hassle. They always find some excuse not to let us in.” “I understand,” Nari said rollimg his eyes. “It's a different excuse each time.” Everett went over and kicked the end of the couch to wake its occupant. “Rise, Jeremiah! Meet our guest!” Wesley frowned. “Evie, let the boy sleep. He's probably been studying tirelessly, the poor kid.” It was too later however and the sleepy vampire stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes. The book he had been reading fell off his chest and onto the floor. The bang made him curse and scramble to pick it up. “Shit, it better not be busted… These old ass books…” “Language, Jeremiah. You know the rules,” Everett scolded. “Shit, sorry, Ev,” the vampire huffed. “Not my fault you woke me up.” “I have half the mind to discipline you,” Everett said, crossing his arms. “Yeah, that’ll look good, you pasty old Brit beating my black ass…” the young vampire mocked. He noticed Nari. “Who’s this little mosquito?” Wesley put a hand on Nari's shoulder. “This is Nari. We're helping him in his research.” The other got up and offered a hand to the newcomer. “It's Jez, but these old farts insist on calling me by my whole name like they're my damn mother or something.” Everett huffed. “Seriously, if you don't straighten out your language, I'll—” “The entire concept of vulgar language is inherently racist,” Jez interrupted, his entire diction changing just to prove a point to old Everett. “My use of swearing is not abusive, but instead cathartic, emphatic and idiomatic, forms of swearing that are not meant to offend anyone. For you to tell me what words I can and cannot say is a blatant form of oppression and reduces my abilities to cope with pain or misfortune.” Everett frowned, his lips pursed. “Fine. But could you tone it down just a bit?” “No.” Wesley came up behind Everett and patted his back. “Relax. We're all adults. Anyway, where's Paolo?” “He's in his room,” Inaya said. “Probably working.” “Ah, okay. Nari can meet him later,” Wesley said approaching the coffee table. From out of nowhere, he pulled out a book and offered it to Inaya. “I found an Arabic tome with stories from Turkey in it. I’m hoping it might help you.” “Oh! Maybe!” Inaya took the book gratefully. “I appreciate it, Wes!” “Where did you pull that book from?” Nari asked, a bit dumbfounded. “The library?” Wesley said, a little confused by the question. “No, I mean… I didn't notice it on your person before,” Nari said. “Oh! It's pocket magic,” Wesley said. “Easier than carrying them around.” “Pocket magic is some real basic level shit,” Jez said, eyeing Nari. “If you don't know that, what abilities do you have?” Nari shook his head. “…I never learned vampire magic. Well, except a blood purifying spell I found the other day.” Everett placed his hands on Nari's shoulders. “Oh dear, so you've just been going about your life with all the cons and none of the pros to the whole vampire thing? Sounds miserable!” Nari frowned. “I didn't know I could learn any of it…” “You absolutely can!” Everett said. “We will show you the basics.” “Honestly, it's fine…” Nari said. “I don't plan on sticking around long, and my partner has enough magic for the both of us…” “Your partner knows magic but you didn't know you could learn it?” Inaya asked. “They didn't try to teach you?” “He’s not a vampire,” Nari said. “He doesn't know what I'm capable of doing as one.” “What is he, then?” Jez asked. “A dragon?” “No, he's a wizard,” Nari said. “A wizard?” Wesley inquired, his voice a little concerned. “Like, a human wizard?” “Uh, yes,” Nari said. “The magic isn't the same, though he's convinced he can learn vampire stuff…” Everett started shaking his head. “Do you always engage in romantic relationships with humans?” “Yes.” Nari frowned, reading the negative energy coming from his acquaintances. “You say that like it's bad. Are you going to tell me we're not supposed to do that? It's taboo or something?” “No, it's fine! I mean…” Everett put his hands on Wesley's shoulders. “He was unturned when I fell for him…” “But we weren't trying to reproduce, that’s for sure,” Wesley said. He placed a hand on Nari’s arm. “It’s no wonder you’ve been having trouble… You can't have children with humans. It never works.” Nari clenched his jaw. “That's not…My information came to a 1-in-8 chance that a vampire can complete live birth.” “It's more complicated than that,” Everett said, pulling out one of the books be grabbed. “It's likely the one successful time out of eight, their partner was another vampire. The odds are much better with two vampires. Like, 1-in-3.” He opened to a page that displayed a large family tree on it. “Any time in history that a vampire successfully completed a pregnancy, both parents were vampires. Any pairings with children from one unturned and a vampire were from before the vampiric parent had turned. Or, there has also been the occasional time a vampire sired a child with an unturned person, but it is rarer.” Nari frowned and sat down on the couch. “But…I… Isn’t there any magic that can help?” Wesley shook his head. “Not that we've found. Your best bet is to try with a vampire.” “But I don't want a child from someone else…” Nari said. “I want one with Diederich.” “I'm surprised you even date unturned,” Jez commented. “It's sad stuff watching humans grow old and die all the time…” “Diederich isn't just any human, he's immortal too,” Nari said. “He knows really powerful skills and spells.” Jez rolled his eyes. “So, easy fix. Just turn him.” Nari shook his head. “No, I can't do that.” “I could teach you,” Everett said. “Or I could do it.” Nari glared. “No, I don't want to turn him. I wouldn't do that to someone.” Everett sighed. “Nari, I don't know what to tell you. Your goal is to have a baby with your partner. Both of you need to be vampires for that to happen. That's all there is. We don't have any other advice.” Nari looked down at his hands, his eyes brimming with tears. “So, all those times I tried… Complete waste of time...” Wesley rubbed Nari’s shoulder. “You didn't know…” He looked to Everett. “Would you give us a moment? All of you.” “Of course, love,” Everett said, kissing Wesley on the forehead. “Come along now, children.” “We are not your kids,” Jez groaned as he got up reluctantly and followed Inaya and Everett upstairs. Once they were alone, Wesley sighed and rubbed Nari's arm. “Before you turned, did you have any children?” Nari slowly and sniffled. “Yes… My son, Tae-seok. He was just a baby when I turned…” “Is he alive?” Wesley asked. “No… He passed away around the turn of the millennia…” Wesley sighed. “When did you start trying for another baby?” “We tried for several years when Tae-seok was young… But his father, Eun-young, died in a factory accident when Tae-seok was still a child. I didn't try again until well after my son passed away too.” “With your current partner?” Wesley asked. Nari shook his head. “No, my previous relationship. It was an accident… But I wanted it to work out. I had a little hope.” “I'm really sorry, Nari,” Wesley said. “It must be difficult to hear about the circumstances of your pursuit… And I'm sorry about Evie. He thinks turning people will always fix everything. It doesn't.” “But he's right though… If Diederich were a vampire, we'd have a much better chance,” Nari said spreading his hands. “If he were turned, we could try…” Wesley shook his head. “I can tell, you don't want to do that. It sounds like your experience with being a vampire has been more negative than positive and you don't want to subject someone else to that.” “I don't. Diederich is… He’s so lovely, and he's happy…” Nari said. “I don't want to take that from him.” “I understand. It isn’t easy. I don't always love being a vampire either… And I certainly wouldn't make that decision for someone else,” Wesley said. “You do realise that if you did manage to give birth to a baby, you'd be choosing a life as a vampire for them too?” Nari blinked. “Yes, but… I…” He paused. “…With Diederich, since he's unturned, I thought that they might not be…” “Well, even if you could reproduce with a normal human being, you’re a vampire. Your kids would be vampires.” Nari grit his teeth. “…I guess I just…you know, if I could have a baby again, I didn't care what they were… But now just saying it, that’s sounds so incredibly selfish… To subject my own child to the exact same curse I've suffered for their entire life…” Wesley rubbed Nari's knee. “I think you need to think about your situation and talk to your partner. Really work out what path makes the most sense for both of you, and any possible children in the mix. What's best for everyone is what is important.” Nari nodded slowly. “Yes… I just want to be with Diederich… I should go…” Wesley checked his watch. “Where are you staying? Evie can drive you over.” “It's okay, I can walk…” “No way, this time of night, any drunk vampires tumbling out of a bar will want to pick a fight, and while I'm not saying you can't hold your own, you don't know much magic and vampires around the library know their stuff.” Nari sighed and told Wesley his hotel. “I do appreciate you guys trying to help me… You’re honestly the nicest vampires I've ever met.” “Aw, it's nothing,” Wesley said going to the elevator. “Each of us understands the difficulty of being accepted in the vampire world. But we've been very lucky and those who have should give.” “So, is this sort of a boarding house for vampires using the library?” Nari asked. “Sort of… We keep the rent super cheap though because the house was paid off many, many years ago. Our housemates just split utilities. Evie and I cover the taxes and insurance.” Wesley smiled. “If you ever need somewhere to stay, we'll be here. First month is free for long term. Of course, we won't charge you if you just want to come over and visit.” Nari nodded. “That's more than generous, thank you.” They rode the elevator together and met with Everett at the back of the house. “Good talk?” Everett asked, spinning his car keys. “Yes, I think so,” Wesley said. “Inaya and Jeremiah are back in their rooms, then?” “Yeah.” Everett unlocked the door. “Alright, Nari. We won't keep you any longer than you'd like. Wes said you needed a ride, yes? Come along.” Nari blinked. “When did he tell you?” “Come on, now.” Everett placed his hands on his hips. “You really do need a rundown on basic magic. You could teach toddlers mind connection.” “I really don't know anything, then…” Nari frowned following him out. Wesley waved as they left. “Hope to see you soon!” Nari waved again before going to the garage with Everett. “You should consider coming back tomorrow night,” Everett said, unlocking the car. “Jeremiah will teach you everything you need to know.” “I might take him up on that. At least I'll have gotten something out of this trip.” “Well, there you go. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” “Hm… Yes, I suppose.” “Oh, and you still have to meet Paolo! He’s Asian like you too! Wouldn’t guess from his name though, would you?” “You really don’t think before you speak, do you?” “Hey, respect your elders.” “Sorry, grandpa.”

#lore #Nari #Everett #Wesley #Jez #Inaya #vampire

[carewyncromwell]

“We were dreamers not so long ago, But one by one, we all had to grow up. When it seems the magic’s slipped away, We find it all again on Christmas Day...”

~“Believe,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

The Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff match was one for the ages. With a final score of 320-10, it was one of the most decisive matches in Hogwarts history, let alone one of Ravenclaw house’s greatest triumphs -- and all of it was because of the combined efforts of Seeker Cho Chang and Ravenclaw’s Chasers, led by their Star Player Robert Bellamy. It put Ravenclaw well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup for a second time, and it also made Robert once again the talk of Ravenclaw house. People latched onto the idea of him using echolocation to signal to his fellow Chasers where he was on the pitch and began to say he could fly faster than any bat, whether a real one or one from Ballycastle. 

And yet, despite all of the praise and fawning he received, just as Cecelia said, Robert shrugged all of it off. 

“All of us train more than just our eyes,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, signaling would’ve meant nothing if Roger and Randolph hadn’t been good enough Chasers to toss the Quaffle to me blindly -- and if Roger hadn’t been a good enough Captain to lead our team, to begin with. Not to mention Cho catching the Snitch in the middle of that fog -- that’s infinitely harder than anything we did...”

Atticus @cursebreakerfarrier​​​​ couldn’t quite understand how Robert could be so determined not to accept praise for his abilities when it was so clearly warranted...but even so, he found himself smiling every time he heard him respond with such modesty. For as flippant, rebellious, and devil-may-care as Robert was, he wasn’t full of himself. It was a rather endearing quality. 

When December arrived, the student body got into a predictable tizzy about the upcoming holidays. Atticus, as always, found himself grumpier than usual due to the noise. He’d never really liked Christmas even as a kid, and at Hogwarts the season only served to make him more surly. Atticus recalled, however, that Robert was one of those people who got obnoxious around Christmas -- it had always irritated him before, whenever Robert would sing Christmas carols loudly at the top of his lungs while helping decorate the Ravenclaw common room. And this year was no exception. The Star Chaser helped smuggle a tree up to Ravenclaw Tower, hung garlands and clusters of holly all over the Ravenclaw commonroom, and greeted and said goodbye to absolutely everybody with “Happy Christmas,” and on the morning of December 8th, the very day he no longer had to dress all neatly like Atticus, he pulled out his old red-felt Santa hat and wore it every single day for the rest of term.

Atticus was frankly done, and the holiday break hadn’t even started yet. 

“Aw, come on, Lestrange!” said Robert one day after Potions, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder. “Lighten up -- it’s Christmas!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Atticus said dully. He tried to bury his nose in his copy of Moste Potente Potions, but Robert wouldn’t drop the line of conversation. 

“Well, I wouldn’t keep reminding you if you cheered up a little,” he said with a grin. “Do you always have to be such a Scrooge around this time of year?”

“Do you always have to be so happy about it?” Atticus shot back. “...What’s a ‘Scrooge’ anyway?”

“A character from A Christmas Carol,” Ceci explained with a small, amused smile. “It’s a Muggle book -- it’s a lovely one too: you’d like it, Atticus...”

“Better have Rob read it aloud for you, though,” said Barty with a big grin. “No one reads it like Rob.”

“A Christmas Carol is a masterpiece of literature -- all I do is treat it accordingly,” Robert said offhandedly. He shot Atticus a wry smile over his shoulder. “Though I suppose if it’d help you actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour for once, I could always read it to you as a bedtime story, Lestrange -- ”

“No thank you,” Atticus cut him off crisply. 

Her face appearing rather sympathetic, Ceci lightly bumped her arm against Atticus’s as they walked.

“Are you staying here for the holidays again, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded. “The library’s always nice and quiet, over break. It’s a good time to get some extra work done...”

Robert’s light-hearted expression faded -- something almost guilty passed over his face. 

“...Mm...”

His black eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall. Barty offered both his best friend and Atticus a smile. 

“Well, uh...maybe we can do some work over break together, then, Atticus,” Barty offered.

Atticus stiffened like a startled cat. “Huh?”

“My parents are taking a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Normandy,” Barty explained sheepishly, “so I was thinking of staying at Hogwarts over break too! Don’t reckon much of anyone else in our year will be, so maybe we can hang out a bit over break, if you’d like...”

Atticus truly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do less. Knowing it’d be incredibly rude to say so, however, he forced an uncomfortable smile. Ceci, however, jumped on it.

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Maybe you and Atticus can do some extra research, Barty.”

Atticus blinked in confusion. “Research?”

“About our dreams,” said Ceci eagerly.

Barty nodded. “One thing all of our visions have in common is that we all look older, right? You said that the guy in your dreams kind of looks like me, but older -- and Ceci, Rob, and I all see each other looking older too. But when we looked into Divination, all we really got was a lot of vague preaching -- ”

“You mean utter rubbish,” Robert inserted with a smirk. 

“So Robert was thinking,” Barty pressed on, “if this is some kind of future sight we’re having, maybe we can find out what’s causing it by studying Time-centric magic.”

“And what better person to help us with researching something in the library than Atticus Lestrange?” Ceci said with satisfaction, taking both of Atticus’s shoulders from behind and giving them a light squeeze.

Atticus, however, didn’t look so sure. “Well, thank you, but...I’ve already read every book in the library about Time Turners -- and I don’t think there’s anything in there that might explain what’s going on...”

“Every book?” prompted Ceci, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” said Atticus. “Well, except for the Restricted Section, but...”

He trailed off, noticing the wicked look that Ceci and Robert exchanged before they both glanced at Barty.

“Except for the Restricted Section,” repeated Robert, his lips spread in a broad white smirk.

Barty grinned -- his expression was perfectly angelic compared to his cohorts, and yet it was determined.

“Atticus,” he said in a very soft, but perfectly fearless voice, “mind if I join you on your evening Prefect rounds, over break?”

And that was how Atticus Lestrange got roped into sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library after dark on Christmas Eve with Barty Gilbert. 

Atticus had been very wary when he lingered in the hall outside Ravenclaw Tower as planned, waiting for Barty. He knew his father most assuredly wouldn’t approve of this, and even despite that, he dreaded the thought of willingly spending time with his school rival. It didn’t matter how pleasantly the Gryffindor acted around him, or even how fond Atticus was becoming of his best friend -- Atticus didn’t like Barty, and that was that. And he absolutely hated the thought of getting into trouble just because he was roped into working with him. 

Unfortunately Atticus was so uptight and stiff while waiting around that he nearly had a heart attack when Barty’s disembodied voice whispered in his ear. 

“Sorry!” Barty whispered quickly. “I’m sorry -- I was really trying not to sneak up on you, but Filch is around that next corner...ack! Here he comes!”

He threw some sort of translucent cloth over Atticus’s head, prompting the other boy to crouch down so it covered both of them. 

The crabby Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner, raising his lantern and looking around. His beady eyes glided over where Atticus and Barty were standing, narrowing suspiciously, before he trudged away.

“Andskotans djöful,” Atticus swore under his breath. 

He was clutching at his chest and breathing very heavily as he turned to gawk at Barty over his shoulder. 

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

Barty grinned sheepishly. “My parents own several robe shops. I figured one of their stock going missing wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world...”

He adjusted somewhat so that the fabric wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Come on -- let’s get to the library.”

Fortunately the two managed to get into the Restricted Section without incident. Once they were positive no one was in the Library to catch them, Barty stood watch under his Cloak by the door, his wand over his chest, while Atticus combed through the shelves of books, his own wand lit and held aloft so he could scan the titles. The two didn’t talk much -- the discomfort congealed between them as Atticus tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing. 

“Anything promising?” asked Barty.

“Not yet,” said Atticus shortly. 

Silence returned. After another moment, Barty spoke again.

“Atticus...may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“In your dreams...do you see bad things happening?”

Atticus paused. Then he slid another book from the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages. 

“Not really. I don’t see much of anything, I think -- at least, not that I can remember. It’s...feelings, mostly.”

“Feelings like you know something’s wrong? Like, even if you can’t see what happened, you feel so much pain and sorrow that you know it’s bad?”

“Sometimes.”

Barty nodded, turning his focus back out into the blackness of the Library. 

“As far back as I can remember,” he said very softly, “I’ve had this dream where I was trying to reach someone. I couldn’t ever see their face clearly, but I just knew, somehow, that the person was in trouble, and that I had to help them. But no matter how fast I tried to run to try to get to that person...my vision would black out and I’d feel like I was frozen still, unable to move at all.”

He bowed his head, his eyes cast into shadow. 

“...I would wake up screaming and crying at night, when I was little...all because I couldn’t reach that person in time. Because I knew that, because I didn’t move fast enough...that person was dead.”

Atticus’s hand had stilled on the book he was flipping through. His eyes were wide upon the page, but clearly weren’t taking in any of the words printed there. The memory of his own mother trying to comfort him after he woke up crying about a pair of red eyes and warm arms rippled over his mind. 

“When I got to Hogwarts,” Barty said lowly, “my dreams became a little clearer. I still didn’t know where I was or what I was doing...but this person who I’d been running to try to save, my whole life, suddenly had a face. A man with black eyes and curly hair...just like my best friend.”

He looked up at Atticus, his face incredibly serious. 

“I don’t know why you’ve seen someone like me in your dreams, Atticus,” said Barty, “and I know you don’t like me...but I could really use your help, in getting to the bottom of all this. Robert is my best friend in the whole world. He’s the first person who became my friend solely because of who I am, rather than who my family is. If I lost him...if anything bad happened to him...”

A dark, miserable shadow passed over his face. 

“...I don’t know what I’d do,” he whispered.

Atticus looked up at last. His blue eyes were rather uncertain. 

“What about Cecelia?” he asked. “Didn’t she become your friend for who you are?”

Barty’s eyes softened as his face flushed lightly. 

“...Ceci means everything to me. We’ve known each other forever. But her family only engaged with mine because we had money...and my parents only let us play together because her parents would bring her over. Our parents encouraged her to play with me because my parents reckoned she’d be a ‘good influence’ on me...might help me come out of my shell some...”

“Well, I suppose they were right,” muttered Atticus. “Now you’re the hot-shot Dueling Champion and Dragon Tamer...Hogwarts’s Golden Boy...”

The last words came out before he could stop himself and he immediately looked away, his insides prickling with discomfort. 

Barty, amazingly, only smiled weakly.

“It’s easy to be brave when you know you’re doing the right thing,” he said, “when you’re standing up for somebody or trying to calm an animal that doesn’t know any better. When you’re fighting, or protecting, there isn’t any thought -- you just do. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He looked down again, his shoulders falling slightly.

“...But when you’re around people...trying to figure out just what to say, to tell people what you mean...or even just how much to say, when you know not everyone means you well...well, that’s not so easy. You feel like the whole world is watching you, and judging you, no matter what you say...even if you say nothing at all. But at least when you’re quiet...people can kind of just see what they want to see...”

Atticus frowned. Barty had always been rather soft-spoken compared to witty, sassy Robert and sociable, amiable Ceci, but he’d never really taken the time to conclude that Barty was actually shy. 

“I’ve always envied Robert that way,” admitted Barty, offering Atticus a small smile. “He’s never at a loss of what to say. When you and he go at it, bantering like you do...I can tell you like each other, but there’s just such a charge there -- like the eclectic lamps Professor Burbage has in her Muggle Studies class!” He beamed a bit more broadly. “It’s so cool.”

Atticus stared at Barty for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at the book in his hands.

“...Thanks,” he said at last. He could feel his ears burning again.

Barty, however, only smiled, his blue eyes very understanding and patient as he returned his focus to the dark Library again. 

Atticus glanced up at Barty without raising his head, considering him for a moment. Then, with a swallow, he spoke again.

“...I...used to wake up crying too. When I was little.”

Barty looked up, taken aback.

“I used to dream about this person with red eyes,” said Atticus. “He’d be squeezing my shoulders -- almost as if he was afraid to touch me at first, but then gently, purposefully. Then, as he held my shoulders, he would start to laugh...but even though he was laughing, I would hear the sobs. I could tell he was crying...crying in grief and joy and something else altogether...but so much pain. A kind of pain I don’t think I could ever know...”

Just remembering the heartbreaking sound made Atticus’s throat clench and his eyes well up with traces of tears. He wiped them quickly from his eyes with one hand. 

“My mother used to comfort me, telling me that it was just a dream, that nothing in it could hurt me,” he said lowly. “But she never needed to say that -- I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the one hurting.”

He swallowed. The lump in his throat was painful. 

“...I didn’t have the dream as much, as I got older -- just time to time, around some of the other weird ones. Maybe I just don’t sleep long enough stretches to dream as much anymore,” he added as an afterthought. “But when Bellamy and I got paired for Binns’s oral report...well, that feeling came back, out of nowhere...and again, when you, Ceci, and I were watching the match against Hufflepuff.”

Atticus forced himself to meet Barty’s eyes at last.

“I don’t understand this whole thing at all...but I want to know why I’m feeling these things, and I want to know why you, Ceci, and Bellamy see what you’re seeing, too. If that’s what you want too...well, then it’s only practical that we work together.”

He offered a weak smile of his own. Barty was definitely taken aback, but within seconds, his face had lit up with a warmer, more determined smile and he nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

From that day on, Barty Gilbert and Atticus Lestrange had made peace. 

Unfortunately their night in the Library proved fruitless, research-wise. Not even Dark or restricted magic could explain the kinds of bizarre, fragmented visions the four students were experiencing. And so Atticus returned to his dorm that night feeling very disheartened. He was less so, however, when he awoke out of a restless doze in the Ravenclaw armchair Christmas morning to the feeling of someone holding his shoulder and lightly shaking it.

“Atticus. Atticus.”

Atticus blinked sleepily up at who’d woken him, to see a familiar, shyly smiling face framed by auburn hair.

“Happy Christmas,” Barty greeted gently.

Atticus shook his head rapidly, trying to orient himself. 

“W-what? Gilbert, what -- what are you doing in -- ?”

Just behind Barty, Atticus could see both Ceci and Robert grinning from ear to ear. 

“Surprise!” said Ceci brightly. 

“Happy Christmas, Lestrange,” said Robert, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

Atticus looked around at all three of them, perfectly bewildered. “But -- but you -- you two went home for Christmas -- how did -- ?”

“Rob and I took the Floo back!” Ceci explained. 

“It was Rob’s idea,” said Barty. “I thought I’d keep the whole thing quiet, until they got here.”

“I couldn’t change my plans and stay for my whole break, since I have to be at home for Christmas Eve church service,” said Robert, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but well, the thought of you being stuck here all alone...”

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. 

“‘The school is not quite deserted,’ said the Ghost,” he recited from memory, “‘A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.’”

He returned his gaze to Atticus seriously. 

“A Christmas Carol,” he added as explanation. “It’s part of why Scrooge ends up hating Christmas so much -- he wasn’t allowed to go home for the holidays to see his family, so instead he stayed at school all alone, with nothing but his books for company. I know this whole season isn’t your thing and all, but...it just seemed rotten, to leave you and Barty alone.” 

Barty beamed at Atticus. Atticus, on the other hand, was too overwhelmed to respond. He felt like his throat had gone very dry, all of the moisture instead moving up toward his eyes. 

Robert and Ceci had put their holidays with their families on hold for him. Yes, Robert said it was for him and Barty, but he’d been thinking of Atticus and how lonely he’d be. No one had ever done anything quite so kind for him before, and it made Atticus feel like his heart was flooding. 

“...You...” he murmured, “...but...why?”

Ceci laughed. “Why do you think? You’re our friend, Atticus! We wanted to spend Christmas with you!”

Atticus’s heart swelled. 

Friend. He was their friend?

He looked from Ceci to Barty to Robert -- his black-haired dormmate smiled, his black eyes sparkling as he nodded in agreement. 

The tears that had been prickling at the sides of Atticus’s eyes actually leaked through, escaping down his cheeks, as he smiled back. He quickly wiped them away, his smile gleaming as he looked up at the three of them.

“...Thank you,” he said at last breathily. “I...I don’t know what to say...”

Ceci brought her arms around Atticus in a sideways hug. “Then don’t say anything! We have presents to unwrap! Come on, come on -- Barty, Rob and I put ours under the tree before we woke you...”

Atticus felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t thought to buy any presents for Robert, Barty, and Cecelia, but he honestly hadn’t expected that they’d want to get him anything. But sure enough, all three of them gave marvelous presents -- Barty gave Atticus a book on Dark creatures; Ceci gave him his own leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol; and Robert gave him a beautiful bookmark carved out of wood into the shape of a Phoenix and painted brilliant shades of red and orange. The card enclosed said,

Ceci helped me paint this for you. Hope this little turkey can keep you company in the Library. 

Happy Christmas!

Robert

Atticus was amazed when he learned that Robert had actually carved the bookmark himself by hand. Apparently Robert had used some of the leftover wood from the trunk of the tree he’d smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower to make Atticus’s bookmark -- he’d also used some of the branches he’d had to trim off to make Barty a carved picture frame and Ceci a pretty wooden heart pendant she could wear as a necklace. They were all a little rough around the edges, but the effort showed through, and it warmed Atticus’s heart to think of the amount of work Robert must’ve put in to make his presents. 

The whole day put Atticus in such a good mood that he even encouraged Robert to read aloud from his new leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol, so he could hear it. The request made Robert’s dark eyes light up more brightly than Atticus had ever seen them before...and indeed, when Robert finished reading the beautifully written, emotional novel with such warm sincerity and articulated poetry that evening, Atticus had to admit -- it was a very, very good book. 

#golden era #hphl #hogwarts legacy #reincarnation!au #my art #my writing #bartholomew varney #atticus grimsley #cecelia crouch varney #hahaha you've heard of christmas in july?? well now it's only may #but christmas is bat's favorite time of year hands-down #grim's canon relationship with christmas is harder because he initially thought it was 'eh' #then he met bat and he started really enjoying it #but then bat died right before christmas so toward the end of grim's life it only brought back bad memories #and admittedly atticus as his modern self didn't have much fun at home during christmas when he was a young'un #I'm so glad to see barty and grim finally finding some common ground!! :') #also yay for sneaking into the restricted section around christmas LOL

[robin-the-enby]

I've been wanting to request a Marvel one for a while now, but have just finally thought of something that I agreed on—

A oneshot with the avengers and the genderless reader celebrating their first birthday. Like where they came from, birthdays don't exist, the actual celebration and having a date of being born doesn't exist for them.

I'm also only familiar with the movies so I don't know what actually happened after Endgame— So spoilers outside that would be very appreciated if that's alright—

True meaning behind birthdays

Pairing: Avengers x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: Reader comes from a planet where birthdays don't exist. The others decide to throw the best first birthday party ever for them.

A/N: I made this story so that it doesn't contain any spoilers. I really hope you like this, I tried my best.

Y/BD - your birthdate

Earth didn't have the best reputation among the other planets. Everyone you knew always told you it's a place not worth visiting. But that didn't stop you.

And oh wrong they all were. Sure, Earth didn't have the most impressive technology, but it compensated for it with many rich and diverse cultures. So many nationalities and religions, each celebrating their own holidays and traditions. Sure, some might say that it was impractical for so many cultures to live alongside each other, but you thought it was fascinating.

You've been on Earth for over half a year now and you already knew about many human customs, yet there was still so much more to learn, since they mingled with each other constantly, for example holidays typically celebrated in the U.S. migrated all the way to middle Europe.

However, there were some events that were celebrated by everyone. Like New Years Eve, when humans celebrated their planet's complete rotation around the Sun. Silly creatures. And the biggest catch? Different people celebrated New Years on different days!

You chuckled at the memory, focusing on your previous activity. You were relaxing in the compound's living room, since there weren't any missions that regular S.H.I.E.L.D. agents couldn't handle on their own.

You were soon joined by Tony, a very extravagant and bold man, but still a very friendly colleague of yours. He scooted over until he was sitting next to you and asked "So, how did you enjoy Nat's birthday party?"

Ah, birthdays, of course. Celebrating one's day of birth every year was something all humans did as well. The concept was very foreign to you, I mean, why would anyone celebrate being one year closer to death? Still, you could not deny that you enjoyed yourself very much.

"Are you asking just because you organized the thing?" you asked back with an arched brow. Tony looked at you as if you grew a second head "Y/N! You know I'm better than that!"

"But...did you like it?" he asked after a few moments of quiet. You laughed "Yes Tony, I really enjoyed the party." You could practically see his face light up like a Christmas tree (another thing you discovered during your time here) "Awesome! Say, when can we celebrate your birthday?"

Oh... "Uhm, well, I don't really have one..." you explained. Tony's eyes widened "What do you mean? Everybody has a birthdate!" he chuckled, but his tone was mainly confused. "Well, yes, of course I have a birthdate, but where I come from, birthdays aren't really a thing. We don't celebrate them or even really acknowledge them." you shrugged.

"Well, when is your birthday?" Tony asked. You thought for a moment, before replying "Well, we don't really divide our days the same way you humans do. You would describe someone's date of birth with the day, month and year, whereas we just describe it with the position a certain set of constellations has in the sky at that moment. You'd be surprised how accurate it is." Tony blinked a few times "Yeah, that doesn't clear it up much." You laughed again.

For the next couple of minutes you tried to explain to Tony how it all worked, using "your" constellation as an example, not knowing about the plan the genius playboy had in mind all along.

After he told you he finally understood what you meant, he promptly excused himself, saying he was actually just taking a break from something he and Bruce were working on. You said your "see you later"s and parted ways.

As Tony entered the lab, Bruce, who has been working on their project when Tony had his break, looked up to see who came in, before turning back to the machine set on the working table in front of him. "Hi Tony." he muttered "Did you enjoy your break?"

Tony walked over to his friend and leaned on the table he was working on "Yea yeah. Listen, I have an interesting idea..."

It took a lot of math and research, but after a few days, the two geniuses finally had it. They managed to convert your birthdate from your people's system to theirs and it was supposed to be on Y/BD.

Which was gonna be pretty pretty damn soon.

So they did the most logical thing. They called a secret Avengers meeting to get everyone in on the plan.

"Are you sure they even want a birthday party?" Steve asked, because the last thing he would want to is to make you uncomfortable.

"Of course, you know they like to be involved in everything." Wanda reassured him with a wave of her hand. "Still, I think we shouldn't throw a big party." Steve muttered. "I agree, it's their first birthday, we wouldn't want to overwhelm them." Vision nodded. Tony sighed and slumped in his chair dramatically "Ugh, okay then. You guys are no fun, I swear..." straightening up once again, he eyed everyone seriously "Okay, here's the plan..."

And what a plan it was. Wanda and Vision were in charge of making a birthday cake, Tony and Nat were in charge of the alcohol and your favourite drink. Thor was in charge of getting your favourite snacks, Bruce and Sam were in charge of decorating and that left Steve in charge of taking you somewhere nice until the others had everything ready.

It wouldn't have been that odd for someone from the team to ask you to hang out, but you couldn't help but notice Steve's eyes darting around almost as if in fear. He must've thought he was being sneaky, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

But once you were out of the compound, you could feel Steve relax as he took you to a restaurant that quickly became your favourite after a few weeks of staying with the Avengers.

You two had so much fun, talking about anything and everything. One thing you had in common with the captain was your love for exploring. Of course, he knew much more about Earth than you, but he still missed nearly seventy years. You two would often share your favourite music or artists you discovered, as well as movies or literature.

"What do you think about birthdays Y/N?" he asked you out of the blue. It caught you off guard a little. Just a few moments ago you were discussing if Disney was a good brand or not and now this...Especially when you discussed birthdays with Tony just a few weeks ago. Strange...

"I think it's fascinating how you humans find so many things worth celebrating. I mean, birthdays are a little hard for me to understand, why would you want to celebrate getting older? I thought that humans wanted to avoid that?"

This answer seemed to throw Steve off his rhythm for a bit. "Well, it's not really about that-" he wanted to explain, but was cut off by a buzzing sound. Steve quickly reached into his pocket, taking out his phone, the culprit guilty of disrupting your conversation, checking the text message he recieved, before putting it back and looking at you again "Sorry, Fury needs me for something. Do you mind if I drop you off and then go?"

You were a little sad that your good time had to end so soon, since you both were having so much fun, but you knew it couldn't be helped, so you just shook your head and smiled.

As you made your way back, you turned to Steve again "So, what did you want to tell me, back at the restaurant?" you tilted your head to the side.

Steve almost started talking again, but before any sound could escape his mouth, it seemed like he changed his mind "Would you believe me if I told you I really don't remember?" he chuckled awkwardly. You couldn't help but squint at him. He was acting very suspiciously... "Yeah..." you answered absentmindedly. Just what was going on?

You spent the whole journey back to the compound mulling it over in your head. Was it somebody's birthday? No, surely they would've told you if that was the case. Was it your birthday? But, nobody knew when that was. So what on Earth was going on??

You decided you were gonna confront Steve if he wasn't going o explain anything by himself. So as soon as you were about to pass the compound's living room, you quickly tugged him in, telling him you needed to talk to him before he had to go.

The room was darkened, somebody must've drawn down the blinds. That didn't matter to you in that moment, you wanted answers. Steve became a silhouette in front of you, so you couldn't see his exact expression. You looked into what you imagined were his eyes, and with the most serious look you could muster you said "Alright Steve, quit joking around. What is happening?"

But before your interrogation could progress, the blinds were drawn up and the room was suddenly bathed in light as people yelled "Happy birthday!!!"

You whirled around and saw everyone gathered in the living room, standing around the coffee table, upon which were various snacks that you grew to love during your stay here, complete with your favourite drink, and in the middle of it all sat a beautiful cake. The room was decorated with ornaments in your favourite colours and everyone had a big smile plastered in their face.

Well, you certainly did not expect that. After carefully looking around at everything, you couldn't help but laugh "So it's my birthday??" you asked, surprised.

"Wait, what did cap told you?" Tony asked, alarmed. "Well, nothing specific, but he wasn't subtle either." you smiled and looked at the now blushing Steve from the corner of your eye.

The rest of the day was great, possibly the best one you've had here. Good food, drinks and laughter all around. It warmed your heart to receive so many beautiful gifts, words couldn't express just how grateful you were. One thing still nagged in your brain though...

All of you were seated on the various sofas and armchairs around the coffee table, calmly chatting about beloved memories, exchanging funny stories and everything was heavenly peacful.

"I still can't wrap my head around why you would go throuh all the trouble for me." you shook your head, the disbelief still lingering in your mind.

"Well, that's simple. We like having you around." Tony shrugged. The others nodded. "Yeah, we appreciate having you with us. You're a great friend." Wanda added. "Celebrating birthdays is like showing gratefulness that the celebrated person is still with you." Bruce explained.

Their confessions were so heartwarming, you couldn't help but to shed a few tears. Sam, who was sitting next to you, put his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm comfortingly. So that's what birthdays were really about...

It was great to have friends.

#marvel #mcu #oneshot #fluff #requests open #avengers #avenger x reader #avengers x y/n #reader insert #platonic x reader

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Shall We Go Inside?

Summary- 5.3k Charles Blackwood x You. You were sent a ticket to the exclusive fund raiser at Rose Red on Halloween Night. You are to visit the character Charles Blackwood, played by your forever crush Sebastian Stan. He supposed to take you on a tour of the famous haunted manor, claiming it to be the home of his Aunt Ellen Rimbauer and Uncle Wilford Rimbauer. What a once in a life time opportunity! You might just never want to leave. 

Warnings- its a ghost story, creepy descriptions, mentions of suicide, death. 

A/N- written as my last submission to @jtargaryen18​ Haunted House 2020. This will be the final piece I write for Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve, and I hope you all enjoy a glimpse and some back story of Rose Red that wasn’t given in the Curtis chapters. The story is from Stephen King’s Rose Red which was a TV mini series. Excellent Halloween movie if you can find it. Its hard to locate now. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​ Happy Reading and Haunting. 😈🎃🌹

Masterlist

You couldn’t get over your good fortune when you checked your mailbox that morning. Inside was an envelope, with wispy handwriting with no return address. When you opened it, there was a ticket, an exclusive ticket to the Rose Red All Hallows Eve charity function. 

Your jaw dropped, cause even though you had been trying everything to secure a ticket for months, no one would sell you one. And you tried finding scalped tickets, willing to take a chance for one, only to be turned down. It was an invite-only, only the elite were getting to tour the mansion and meet some of their favorite movie actors in their darker roles. 

Your hands trembled as you brought the ticket closer, reading the fine print to see which person you were getting to meet. Not that you were picky, you would take the chance to meet anyone. Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Frank Grillo, Scarlett Johnson, or Chris Hemsworth. Just being able to get into the mansion was worth all the months of begging and trying just about anything for tickets. 

Your eyes roved back and forth, trying to pick up a name when you saw the fine print announcing that you would be escorted around Rose Red by Charles Blackwood from We Have Always Lived In The Castle. You gave a little squee of excitement, having really wanted to meet Sebastian Stan. What a better character on Halloween night then the devious cousin Charles. Your plans for tonight went from working on a project for your boss to getting red wine drunk and watching the movie on Netflix to get reacquainted with Charles Blackwood. Research, of course, you didn’t want to be meeting the famous “Charles” without having done your research after all. Happy in a way you haven’t been in a while, you went to pour your wine and binge, wishing you had someone to call to tell your news to. But you were a bit of a loner and didn’t tend to connect with people. 

But whatever, this well this was going to be the best Halloween yet for you. No getting sloppy drunk in a bar to bring home some wanna be cowboy or that one time you brought home a clown. A disgusted shudder went through you at the memory. That wasn’t a Halloween you were particularly proud of. Not this year though, this time you were going to one of the most haunted places in New York and seeing Sebastian Stan. Wonder what it would take to bring him home? Making yourself grin like an idiot, as your major fan girl crush made your heart race. You poured almost the entire bottle of red wine in the goblet. 

“How did the saying go? Treat Yo Self.” Lifting the glass you took a rather large swallow.

Charles stood at the entrance, waiting for the next patron he was to bring through the mansion. They should be arriving soon, the time on the ticket said 11 pm sharp. Waiting at the gate, his back leaned against the cold stone of the wall and his gaze fell upwards to see a bit of green creeping over the wall, sprouting thorns sharper than any dagger. Charles hummed softly with a bit of a smirk to see the creeping vine, a small bud twisted as it grew in size. The bigger it got, the more it tinted from green to blood red, and it spiraled open to a single rose. Reaching up, he pinched the stem, clipping it off and bringing it down to admire it. The perfect petals are just as soft as a woman's lips when he brushed his fingertip along one, and when a thorn bit into his palm, he hissed at the sting, that too just like a woman. Don’t respect her, and she will cut you down. Blood welled up and spilled towards the ground before he brought his palm to his mouth and sucked it clean, inspecting to make sure there wasn’t any of the thorn left in his palm. Snipping off the thorns, he let them scatter into the gravel under his feet. 

Charles was fixing the rose into his shirt pocket, when you started to come out from between parked cars, your hands smoothing against your thighs with a bit of nerve and you just looked so innocently sweet. The corner of his mouth quirked up while he inspected you. She’s a perfect choice, he thought maliciously as his features shifted to warm and welcoming. “Welcome Dear to Rose Red, my family's Manor. My name is Charles Blackwood.” Plucking out that flower from his shirt pocket, he gave a slight bow and held it out for you. Your giggle went right through him, making his toes curl in his shiny black Louboutin’s all the way to the base of his neck where his expensive Tom Ford collar rubbed. You looked up at him with a touch of innocence that should make him feel bad, but it didn’t. 

You dug out your ticket and showed them to Charles Blackwood, which he inspected closely and pulled out his wallet to pocket it. You bubbled with excitement and lifted the rose he had just given you to your nose, letting the tip brush against the edges of the petals. “Thank you. I shall press it to dry it when I get home Sebastian. But I have no place to put it.” You started to figure out a way to hold onto it and not get it ruined when he took it back and wedged it into the stone wall behind him. 

“It will be safe here Dear, and Charles, please. I don’t know this Sebastian you call me.” He gave a wink and you nod in understanding. It was supposed to be just the characters showing you around. So it made sense that you were supposed to call him Charles, not Sebastian. You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Of course, Sorry Charles.” you loved how well he fell into character, offering his arm to you that you curled your hand around his forearm, falling into step together once you two went through the iron-wrought gate. 

“No harm is done, Dear. I’m very excited to show you around my Uncle and Aunts family home for the evening. It’s not often I have such a lovely woman on my arm.” He leads you up the stairs and opens the massive door to the mansion. “After You. There are a few groups inside, but we won’t be running into them.”

Your head tips back to look all around, taken in by the deep wooden double staircase sweeping up to the upper floors, gleaming marble floors and a crystal chandelier that as you and Charles walked underneath it, you couldn't help but tip your head back, mesmerized by the glinting of the crystalline shards. “One of Ellen's nicer finds. She had the chandelier shipped from France, each crystal carefully wrapped.” 

“This whole place, it looks completely restored. I thought it was condemned, banned from the public?” You question as he leads you into what looks like a sitting room, another room that spoke of decadence, with plush chairs around a large fireplace that seemed to take up half the wall, large vibrant persian rugs sat atop rich wooden floors, and in the glow of the lamps light up around the room showed carvings in the wall, cherubs dancing amongst vines and roses. You shuddered a bit looking at them high above you in the molding. The innocence of them felt wrong in this place, malicious. 

Charles directed you towards a small staircase that went halfway up the room, climbing while answering your question. “Ahh yes. Well it is technically. But I have been told that Rose Red might be reopening soon to the public. For tours, the occasional overnight ghost investigations.” 

Once you two reached the landing, you saw the ornate dollhouse. Charles was able to turn it around on a turnstyle stand, and flicked a switch, lighting up the inside. Leaning down, you peeked inside in awe. It was a perfect replica of the house, the lower levels showed a large massive kitchen, sitting rooms, library, offices. Then up the stairs a ballroom of sorts, another library, bedrooms, and other odd rooms that seemed to serve no purpose. 

“This is beautiful.” You muttered and straightened, clasping your hands behind your back to keep from picking up the matching furniture to look closer. 

“My Great Aunt Ellen had this made for her daughter April, who was confined to Rose Red due to her bad health. She was a lonely child, her father sending her older brother off to boarding school. Wilford wanted little to do with his daughter. She had a deformity to her arm from birth. Withered. He would have disowned April, but Ellen wouldn't allow that. Upstairs, is a whole play room dedicated to her.” He pointed to a corner of the upstairs, which you peeked in to see a soft pink rose colored room filled with toys and dolls for a little girl. 

“What was wrong with April, to cause her to have a withered arm?” you asked and Charles shrugged. 

“It's said that Wilford wasn't faithful during his and Ellen's honeymoon, passed on a exotic disease to Ellen. She was ravaged in the years following their return to Rose Red. Which was also a honeymoon gift. He promised her anything she wanted. So the two years they were gone Rose Red was being built by one of the largest crew of men seen at the time. They even installed a train to bring in supplies from the harbor.” 

Charles directed you down the stairs to go look out a window, and far off beyond what looked like a greenhouse was a large train, like a black ghost of the past, rusting away under the vines wrapped around the engine. Squinting you could have sworn you saw a couple of women following a lantern down the path. “Rose Red experienced the first deaths with that crew. The train was derailed, killing hundreds of men on the grounds at once.” 

You shuddered while pulling away your gaze from the train. “How awful.” 

“How awful indeed.” Charles nodded, and tilted his head. “Some believe that such a massive tragedy stains the land, maybe what brought the house to life. Come, some of the more interesting rooms are upstairs.” 

Crossing the room for the massive grand staircase. “Do you actually believe that Charles?” 

“No, no I believe something else powers this house. I have my theories.” Charles gave a secretive smile, the two of you started up the many flights of stairs. He gave a bit more history of the house, including the most recent events that officially shut the doors for good to all further investigations till now. “A team of psychics led by a college professor came in. There were four men and five women with varying abilities. One woman disappeared, one died when she refused to leave, and two men died on the property during that weekend.” 

You pulled up a bit hearing this, closing your arms around yourself as if to protect you, like that could protect you. “Wait, should anyone even be here?” You said fearfully, and Charles looked back at you with a reassuring smile. 

“I assure you the house is dormant. The state of New York wouldn't allow us to have a charity here unless it was perfectly safe. I myself have been here many times.” His voice was smooth and confident, letting you relax a bit. Giving a nervous chuckle, you eased back into holding onto the crook of his arm, his other hand patting yours. He dropped a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I will keep you safe, this is my family's home.” 

After several flights of stairs, Charles led you into a massive hallway, doors lining each side. The symmetry while looking down the hall gave the illusion of it going on forever, you could just barely see the end of the hallway, or maybe it was getting smaller the further along it went. “This place is trippy.” You muttered to yourself but Charles happened to hear you. 

“Yes, it was purposely designed by Ellen this way. She had her own way of doing things that didn't necessarily make sense to anyone else.” He studied doors as you two went along, your eyes kept roving up to see what looked like the ceiling slowly getting lower when he turned you towards a door. “Ahh, the first room on our tour of interest. As I said, Aunt Ellen, well she got creative when designing rooms.”  

Opening a door, you went in and quickly paused as you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. Before you were upside down lights, standing upright, and covered in dust and cobwebs. What bothered you looking at them was that they should be hanging above you and that's when you tilted your head up to look above. Unlike any room you've been in before, desks were hanging above you, each one set up to have someone sitting at it as a chair was tucked in. Trays for papers, cups with pencils. It was just what you would expect to see in an office above you. Out of instinct you jumped back, half expecting it all to come crashing down, just to have yourself bmp into Charles' chest, making him chuckle as he embraced you gently. “Easy Dear, it's all safe.” 

You took a few steps away from him with an apology, your head tilted back to look around. “What in the world?” 

Charles, strolled along next to you, hands in his slacks, as he looked up at it all, chuckling. “Aunt Ellen's idea of a joke to her husband. He didn't seem to appreciate it as much as she did. Really it was just another room to show off to guests who came to visit.” You couldn't stop gaping at the details, wandering away from Charles who remained at the door. Even the walls had bookshelves filled with books, reading chairs above your head. 

“I will be right outside, take your time.” Charles slipped out, leaving the door open while you paced over to get a better look. A lamp clicked on to your surprise right above your head, and what your eyes saw made you jump back and yelp. Sitting in the chair on the ceiling looked to be a woman in a cocktail dress, her head tilted back. Decaying grey skin peeling and black hollow sockets where eyes should be was matched with a gaping smile. “Come now dear, don't be shy. You are the newest guest right?” Her head tilted and creaked, giving you what was once probably a seductive smile, but now the lips were stretched too tight and split to show decayed teeth beyond them. You stumbled back into a chandelier that was on the floor, and fell to your backside. Looking back up, the lamp above you was back off, and the chair empty. “CHARLES!” You push off the floor and run to the door, wrenching it open to stumble back into the hallway that Charles catches you as you fall into him. “What's wrong?” 

“I just saw- well I think I saw- there was a person, a woman sitting up there. But not a woman, she was rotting, old clothes.” Your words stumbled out as Charles straightened you back up. 

“Sounds like you ran into one of Rose Reds resident ghosts, Deanna. A famous actress who went missing while freshening up during one of Ellen’s parties.” 

You looked over your shoulder at the door and moved away from it. “Why is she here?” 

Charles rubbed on your arm, to calm you a bit. “She never returned to the party that night. Local police came out and searched the entire grounds for days. But she never recovered. You're pretty shaken, do you wish to continue?” 

You gave a chuckle and rubbed at your hands against your thighs to dispel the nervous energy. You should go, hell your heart was hammering so bad that you might just keel over any minute. No one was ever to see any actual ghosts on these things. Then that's when it occurred to you, side eyeing ‘Charles’. Sebastian was perfectly staying in character, that all this was. Actors, all of it. You almost laughed at yourself for getting caught up in the whole Halloween spook.  

“Yes… I just. I cant believe there are actual ghosts here.” you played along with a shrug, brushing yourself off where you fell in the dusty room. 

“Rose Red is full of many surprises.” Charles smiled in that charming way of his and offered his arm to yours. “Aunt Ellen, well she had a taste for the macabre. Holding frequent seances without her husband's knowledge, as he was away often. It's bound to attract some… interesting energy in a place like this.” 

He seemed to be counting doors, and you were right at his side, willing your hammering heart to calm down. “You're not going to leave me alone again, right?” you worried your fingers into his sleeve, as if weaving him closer, to not let him go. Sure they were just actors playing a part, really good actors. You couldn't begin to guess how they got her to sit upside down like that on the ceiling, but there was nothing to be scared of. 

“No, I'm surprised that the house is actually this active tonight. Maybe it's all the people passing through for the charity. But you're perfectly safe. I assure you.” Another door opened and you hesitated while stepping in. 

The floor shimmered oddly to you at first, till you looked down and went stock still. You were standing on a mirror, the whole floor stretched out in a mirror, and all you could do was picture you stepping on it, and it shattered. Charles took several strides forward, and chuckled softly. “It's perfectly safe. This glass is made to be walked on.” 

You take a few precautionary steps and chuckle. “Another one of Ellen's jokes?” 

“Yes, she took great pleasure trying to come up with oddities to fill the house.” 

You continue being mesmerized with the mirrored floor, watching as you walk across it. “Why? Why so many odd rooms?” 

Charles hummed a bit, tipping back and forth on his heels to toes, watching as you sweep across the floor, grinning to yourself in such an innocent moment. “Well, after April disappeared, Ellen is said to have lost her mind. She claimed that Rose Red must never stop growing. It's in fact true that no one really knows how many rooms Rose Red has. At this point there are rooms like these, staircases that go to nowhere, hallways that narrow to where you have to crawl through. Doors that lead to the outside on these upper floors. It is easy to get turned around here. Rooms seemingly from nowhere appear still. They are not on any official floor plans.” 

You gulp and shake your head. “It all sounds… so unreal. Rooms building themselves? Impossible.” 

“One would think.” Charles chuckles. “But every time it is attempted to be documented, and then when it's double checked, nothing adds up. There’s missing rooms that seemed to have disappeared, only to have reappeared elsewhere, another staircase, the halls won't match up.” 

You paused, still looking down at yourself in the mirror. “You said April disappeared?” 

“Oh yes, she was playing in the main kitchen under the watch of one of the staff. The woman walked from the kitchen to collect something for just a moment. When she came back, April was gone, her beloved doll abandoned on the floor. After a search, again, the staff was brought to the police barracks. She was unable to leave after the questioning.” 

“So they arrested her?” You start to feel cold, chills creeping up the back of your neck like a light touch, sweeping up your back and to the base of your hairline. You reached behind to rub at your neck uneasily. 

Charles seemed to not notice your discomfort, sliding his gaze from you and around the room. “Oh no, they didn't arrest her. No, she was beaten to get a confession as to what she had done with April. Ellen swore her innocence, but Uncle Wilford… oh he paid them to get it out, by whatever means necessary. Her injuries were too severe. She ended up dying here once they finished with her and brought her back, another victim of Rose Red in a way, I suppose.” 

You couldn't help the sadness that seemed to overwhelm you hearing the story. 

“In fact this room also has its own tragedy. Wilford’s brother who also happened to be his business partner hung himself here. From… that light fixture actually.” Charles pointed up at it, but you were looking at its reflection, and the light fixture swayed, a rope tied around it. A heavy set man all blue colored hung at the end of the creaking rope, his feet twitching and his tongue bulging from his mouth. Your eyes shoot up to see nothing above Charles. 

Charles himself gives you an odd look, and you look back in the mirror, he's still there, a swollen hand reaching out as if to grasp you. 

Your own hand was shaking as you pointed down at the mirrored floor. “Right there! You don't see it Charles?!” Your finger points near his feet, in which he looks down and it all seems to disappear. At the same moment, it felt like a heavy rope slid around your neck, and tightened all in a second making you gasp. Your hands fly to your neck, trying to pry at the noose that isn't actually there. When you collapse to your knees, trying to drag in a breath, you happen to see a little girl, in various stages of decay, a withered arm clutching a doll against her chest waved at you from across the room near the door, and an older woman in the same state standing next to her with an arm around her shoulders, merely watching you struggle for air. Your vision started to go in and out, the burning in your lungs now first and foremost in your mind. Charles stepped into your view, kneeling down next to you and you focused on him. 

“Hey! Hey! Y/N, what's wrong.” He yanked your hands away to check your neck, and you were suddenly able to take a gasp of air with a frightened sob, curling yourself in closer to him, and your arms going around his neck. 

“Get me outta here please! I don't want to be in this house anymore.” 

Charles moved to a stand, his hands grasping yours and pulled you to a stand. “Okay, we will end the tour here.” Hurrying you along, you both shoot into the hallway and turn to head back to the main stairway when at the end of the hallway, when the woman you had seen in the upside down room beckoned you two to her. “Come child, the parties this way, I just need to go freshen up, get you dressed for the party.” 

You pulled up sharply in fear with a panicked scream, and Charles spun you around. “This way, there's another staircase at the end of the hall.” 

Now your running with Charles to get away, every door and corner you two ran into became a blur. Once in a while a door would open, some nightmare of a person beckoning you to step in and join them, child like giggles echoes around you or hisses of your name just out of sight made you try to run faster, gasping for air as your lungs burned from running through the endless hallway. Charles was getting winded as well when he came to a staircase but that too was also blocked. This time with a wailing woman, her eyes rolled back to just the whites and clutching her purse to her chest, a dress looked like it had been shredded. Her skin was wrinkled and paper thin looking, what remained of her clothing something from a decade earlier. “I was just here to tour the house, can you show me the way out?” she screamed at you two, below her on the stairs were others, begging to be shown the way out. Now you froze, your mind in shock. 

Charles yanked on your wrist to pull you away as you teetered on the edge of the stairs, continuing to another hallway. 

“The servant's stairs are this way. They lead through the kitchen.” Charles rattled a door knob trying to get it to open, and you looked over his shoulder when there was a flash in your peripheral vision. The carpet in the hallway rolled as if something was racing underneath it, and of course, it was coming right for the two of you. 

“Oh fuck, Charles, Hurry it up” Your hand grasps the handle to, yanking on it. “CHARLES IT'S COMING.” You scream, feeling the weight of panic crushing your chest whenever you looked up, whatever was coming for you was speeding up, flapping dust up from the carpet into the air and you screamed when it was almost on you. The door yanked open for you both to fall in, and slam it behind you, leaving you and Charles in the pitch dark. 

“Oh god, fuck, get us out of here Sebastian.” dropping his characters name, you were over this fun house of hell crap they had made for the charity. 

“What do you think I'm doing?!” He snapped, losing his cool control as he fisted his hand through his hair, taking deep dragging breaths. “Once you hit the kitchen, the door is to your left.” You both start racing down the stairs, trying to be as quick as possible without falling and when you reached that door, you yanked it open and sprinted into the room, expecting to see a stove, cupboards, tables, anything. 

But that's not what you came into, you crashed into a whole other room. Confusion blurs your mind when you take in the attic like dusty interior. Spinning around, a couple times trying to make sense of it. 

“AN ATTIC? WE WERE RUNNING DOWNSTAIRS, NOT UP!” You twist to go back out the door, but Charles slams it shut, and throws a bolt. 

“Oh no Dear, were just where we need to be.” Charles smoothed his hair back, the panicked demeanor completely gone as he fixed his appearance. You backed away from him, licking your lips and panting with a wheeze. 

“I d-d-d-don't understand why we are up here, how we got up here. I want to leave.” Your foot comes down as if you're about to throw a tantrum. “Now. I demand you to take me out of this, keep my money. I don't care Sebastian, I'm all done with this game.” 

Charles crooks a brow, and smirks, striding in close in which you panic and back up further. 

“As I told you before Sweetheart, I don't know who Sebastian is. And there is no leaving. Rose Red needs you, needs you to grow.” 

“To grow? Your fucking crazy.” You start to look for another way out, and your back comes up to a large stained glass window. The famous stained glass Rose that adorned the front of the Manor. 

“Yes, Ellen is still building, don't you see. She needs to feed, and as her great nephew it's my duty to keep her alive.” 

He’s fucking lost it. Hollywood has snapped Sebastian's mind. 

“Just let me go, I swear Seb-” His eyes snapped at you. “Charles… I won't say anything.” 

“Auntie, do you want to let her go?” he asked with a cold grin. “You want to keep building Rose Red right? Keep building for April?” 

Your eyes darted around trying to figure out who he was talking to. But there was seemingly no one there. 

“I will donate more, give you money to keep building.” You felt around your pockets and pulled out your wallet, yanking out your billfold. “See a card.” tossing it at him in the delirious hopes that would appease him. He simply stepped over it. 

“That won't work darling. Auntie Ellen, she needs other materials.” That cold touch you felt before in the mirror room, made you jolt, and you spun away from Charles to see the decaying little girl with her withered arm folded up against her chest. 

“Play with me and baby?” the girl asked, her withered decayed hand shaking as she reached out to touch you.

You reared back and stumbled away to keep her from touching you, momentarily forgetting about Charles till you landed smack into his chest and a forearm locked around your neck. “Why are you scared of cousin April. She just wants to play?” He sneered into your ear, and you started clawing at his arm and trying to kick at him. 

How did you get here, and maybe this was some crazy dream. Your gasping the more his arms tighten, giving one hard clawing motion on his face  when you reach back and kick backwards to cause you both to tumble. 

“You little bitch.” Charles twists to grab at you while you're crawling away, and you kick back one more time, catching him in the shoulder hard enough for him to let go of your foot. 

“Fuck off Prick.” you scream, and yank yourself up, about to run towards the door. You're so close to going back into that hellish fun house when you are stopped right in your tracks, like hitting a wall. 

The lady of the manor stood before you, long off white gown clinging to a corpse. She would have been beautiful once upon a time as your eyes roved her up and down, like all those pictures you saw when you googled Rose Red before your trip, but now she was a nightmare, you stuttering before her with a whimper. “Please... please let me go.” 

“But Dear, Rose Red needs you.” Her voice had a tinkling sound to it, meant to soothe.  

Her brown leathery skin that clung to a skeletal frame creaked when her bony clawed hands cupped your face in a loving gesture, and your terror filled eyes lifted to see her lip less mouth showed what appeared to be fangs. Pale dead eyes softened for a moment, until her claws sunk into your face, tearing through skin and muscle, piercing your skull and her mouth widened to a fang filled gaping rotten hole. 

This is it, this is how I die. Your mind screamed in terror as she descended on you, your vision going dark, and your life just draining away. The pain fades, and your eyes roll back to see nothing. The last thing you will experience in your life, the overwhelming scent of fresh roses. 

Charles wiped at his face when he came to, looking around the attic and seeing nothing more than your still body. Moving to get himself up, muttering to himself. “Fucking bitch, got my suit all dirty.” He walked past your body, and looked to see his aunt picking up a hammer, April standing next to her playing with her doll. 

“I know, more souls for you to feed on Auntie.” He opened the door and made to go back down the stairs, his decaying aunt giving a slight nod in agreement. 

Whistling as he safely strolled through Rose Red, he made his way out the front door, and down the walkway back towards the iron wrought gate. Once he returned, he leaned back against that stone wall, feet crossing at the angle and reaching up to pluck that red rose he had placed there earlier, twirling it back and forth. 

Within ten minutes a couple young women strolled up to him, and he gave them a flirtatious smile, and held out the rose to one of them. “Ladies, welcome to Rose Red Manor, my family home and one of the most haunted sites in New York. My name is Charles Blackwood. Can I have your tickets please?” 

#jshauntedhouse2020 #Rose Red's All Hollow Eve #charles blackwood #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood x you #amber writes #sweater writes #halloween #halloween 2020

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Last Christmas

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: Language some smut and loads of angst

A/N: This took me two days to write. 🤣 Once again @robertsheehanownsmyass helped in so many ways and I continue to love her for it! This time @elliethesuperfruitlover was my sounding board too ☺️

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @bisexualnathanyoung @frogs--are--bitches @magic-multicolored-miracle @nightmonsters

Chapter 4: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

“Of all the places to eat in Sin City, you chose fucking Taco Bell,” disdain. “Don't you have those in The UK?”

“Not with a bloody margarita bar inside,” Nathan held up a giant plastic cup full of strawberry watermelon tequila and syrup. Violet lived for every time he spoke a word with the “AR” sound.

“IT'S A T’GO MARGARITA! I can just go anywhere I want and leave with booze. Fucking beauty if you treat her right,” Nathan’s eyes sparkled. “And there's no problem that can't be solved with a bit o’ t’go booze.” He shoved an entire soft taco in his mouth that smiled from ear to ear.

“Are you gonna have better manners tomorrow at my sister’s place?” Violet looked at Nathan unexpectedly hearing her own mother’s voice escape from inside and she frowned.

She had avoided bringing up anything of her own that was personal. These feelings for Nathan that were suffocating her could be held at bay for 36 more hours. He prodded her for information a few times since they woke up. She dodged every one, even going so far as to offer him head in exchange.

(Still only Christmas eve. The snow had stopped inside as Nathan drifted deep in slumber. Violet grateful because how could they explain a woman freezing to death while he was alive?)

Nathan nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I'll be mature and polite!” His smile resembled Bruce in Finding Nemo. “If you tell me what I'm walking into?” There it was.

“None of your business,” Violet plopped a piece of sushi in her mouth.

Nathan sneered, “Bet that tastes like bad snatch. If we're playing happy families, I'm gonna need to know some details!!”

“You're just a guy who got stuck with me until the 26th. I'm not telling them you're my boyfriend or anything.”

“Oh TWICE you're gonna just jab a knife in my heart, huh?”

Violet couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or a tease. She inhaled deeply and brushed her fingertip down Nathan’s cheek. “Fine. It's a bit more complicated than that, but it doesn't change anything about what happens after tomorrow.”

“I like complicated situations. It's my middle name!”

“Oh really?”

“No. it's Michael but, wouldn't you love to meet a guy named Nathan Complicated Young?”

“I didn't even plan on meeting Nathan MICHAEL Young,” it came out a whisper.

They stared at one another in silence for a few minutes over tacos and sushi and margaritas and wine. An alarm jolted Violet to reality indicating it was time for her show to come on.

“Hold those thoughts”

“In my wank bank, darling”

Violet ignored Nathan and turned on her tv “You're gonna want to see this guy. I swear you could be twins.”

A few hours later the pair laid up on the pillows. Tears glittered Violet's eyes that she tried to wipe away surreptitiously with her knuckle.

“My mom watches this garbage show because,” Nathan mimicked a high whine, “NAY-TAN HE LOOKS LIKE YOOO. Alright Ma, and you look like Catelyn Stark.”

“But he kinda does.”

“C’mon what's with that twat’s hair?!

Violet sat up and tugged Nathan on the top of the head, “What's with YOUR hair.”

“IT’S NOT EVEN MY HAIR!” he dramatically waved his hand around. In a blink of an eye his hair became longer, darker and curlier. The description would be a mess. “TA DA!”

Violet hid her shock as her heart raced in her ears. “That's a fucking bird’s nest,” she recovered but not before combing her fingers through the curls.

“Why must your compliments always be so damn backhanded, woman?!” he swatted her hand away.

Violet laid down alongside Nathan with one arm tucked against her body. She stretched her free one across his bare chest, face concealed in the crook of his arm. There was a small contented sigh as he engulfed her in his arms. A kiss planted on her forehead before he inhaled deeply.

Blissful silence for a few minutes.

“I don't even BELIEVE Darren’s dead.”

“She shot him FOUR TIMES!” Nathan was incredulous as he stretched a hand palm up towards the tv. “IN THE FUCKING HEAD!!”

Violet lifted herself so she could look Nathan right in the eye. “Well he ALSO came back from the dead!” She struggled to maintain sincerity. “He got shot a bunch of times then too. So for like, two years he only had one lung.”

Nathan’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion. “ONE LUNG?!”

“Plenty of people supposedly live without lungs. It's the back of his head missing that might cause problems.”

There was an exaggerated groan as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, “Worst Dublin accent too.”

“Why ye from there?” Violet mocked.

“Jaysus, no! We didn't even really have a steady home even when I wasn't homeless. Not until I was too much of a selfish prick t’appreciate it.”

“Wow, death really makes you self actualize.”

“Only until my dick wakes up.”

Before Violet could blink, Nathan flipped her so he could pin her to the bed. She swerved with ease each time Nathan bent to kiss her lips. Her cheeks. She slept with him once already; wouldn't give in again. Well, maybe a little as he landed finally on her neck. A bolt of pleasure shot through her entire body. That familiar ache between her legs as a small moan escaped her.

“Did ye shag me because ye fancy him then?” Nathan’s voice low in Violet's ear.

“That's for me to know, and you to figure out ten years from now in the shower.” Her hands entangled in the waves of dark curls to guide his lips up to her own.

Their tongues danced for what felt like ages. Violet gobsmacked by how subdued Nathan was being. A hand between her ass and the bed to lift her pelvis up towards his burgeoning erection. Another moan, this one into his mouth.

Nathan wriggled to free himself from his boxers as Violet took his tongue entirely in her mouth. The head of his cock labored against her panties, desperate to get inside. He almost settled for the wetness it created and a few times in response.

“Fuck,” he growled pumping his hips. “I t’ink sexy Irishmen who commit felonies get you off.”

Violet raked her nails along Nathan's shoulder blades. Dug them in when her body started to twitch and her sex throbbed from the intensity of being fucked with her underwear on. Nathan's cock hit her clit just right through the lingerie.

Violet's legs started to writhe as the heat in her core began to build. Nathan’s breathing heavy while hers came out in short bursts through mewls of pleasure. The rhythmic way he undulated his hips took on a swift pace. Instinct must have finally kicked in. Like he knew Violet was about to cum.

Except everything came to a sudden halt. Nathan rolled off Violet and replaced his body with two fingers in the same spot. He started to rapidly press them to the wet spot in the fabric like someone desperate to close an elevator door.

Violet gripped his forearm, but again an abrupt end as she felt herself cum.

“Tell me anything about you,” Nathan chose to interrogate her now.

“My-My parents died when I was a teenager. three of us were raised by our grandfather.”

Nathan rewarded Violet by slipping his fingers inside of her. They remained still. “You've got sisters? I had a brother, but some Ice Queen bitch blew him up. What are their names?”

“Rose.. Fern.. Iris and Lily.”

Another reward. Nathan’s fingers began to work her clit in slow circles counterclockwise. “Oh a garden of sexy sisters. They inta Irishman too?” He stopped.

“It's because we're from the Garden District in New Orleans,” Violet's words came out in short bursts. “They're.. two are married. Not Lily, she's younger than you are. Seventeen. Fern is a lesbian.”

“One in every family,” he said it so casually. As casually as the fingers that pumped in and out a bit too easily with how slick she was. Deep inside where they hooked just a bit and pulled back.

“Na- Nathan are you-” Violet started to squirm under his motions. Between the horribly slow circles just his fingertip made on her clit before delving inside and back. “Are you trying to find my G-spot?”

Nathan ignored her as he bit his lower lip in concentration. “Maybe. Sometimes I play stupid with a bird if I t’ink she may do the work for me. Show me around a bit.”

Violet ignored that she may have been hustled a bit in the sack. Maybe his eagerness and pride was what really caused him to be all messy about it.

Still his hand worked faster. She coiled right at the beginning of the explosion, again. Then nothing. This was too much power for someone so fucking arrogant.

“I'm asking the questions, love,” he muttered. “Tell us about your granddad.”

Violet closed her eyes, “He was a Civil Rights lawyer. My grandmother was a society woman. Charity balls all that shit.”

“Oh yer a posh bitch. Slumming it wit us street trash,” Nathan picked up again. His fingers a bit too aggressive. “Is that how you work for free but still can live in a flat like this?” his mouth rough in her neck. He bit with the ends of his teeth and sucked somewhat. “While us arseholes are figuring out how t’work the system so we can survive.”

“Nathan! It's not like that. I left a very well-paying job at a firm to help people like you that deserve a fair shake. That DA? Tony? He was one of my partners. Yeah, I saved up and worked HARD for this “posh flat”. Not everyone takes the easy way by doing a little fucking magic and stealing from other people.

Violet had shoved his hand away and sat up on her knees. “I did my research, Nathan. You didn't exactly grow up rough. Your mom’s a teacher and your dad is a successful novelist? You're just one of those dick middle class white guys who gets bored and fucks off because he can.”

“YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE. My dad leaving us. Mom and I never had a place to live until he started paying her. All the guys she dated. I just wanted it to be us.”

“MY PARENTS ARE DEAD, NATHAN. THEY'RE DUST. Have you even checked your phone? Your dad has called you probably 300 times not including the 20 since the trial ended yesterday. You get to fix things with them.”

Nathan growled and crossed his arms, “Fuck off. I'm not a charity case for you t’fix. I do alright on my own.”

“In jail because you're reckless. You know what happened to me when I was twenty-two?”

“I had t’finger fuck you just to find out ye had sisters. How am I supposed t’know what happened to ye years ago?”

“I was a widow. I got married like a moron when I turned 19. He already had a kid. My grandfather cut me off because education is worth more than a man! It is. I busted my ass to do the rest. AND raise a kid and a drug addict. You know what he did in return?”

Violet was on a roll. Hot tears threatened to spill over her cheeks and stung her eyes. The dark anger in Nathan’s took her by surprise. They were always so congenial if not a bit sad.,

“He drove in to a fucking semi on the highway with our son in the car. So forgive me for not being sympathetic to you being so fucking STUPID you got caught robbing a casino with a seven sided dice. And TWICE you've been too conceited to let your dad bail you out. You are better than this, Nathan. I know it.”

“HAPPY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!” Nathan shouted before throwing himself out of the bed. “I need a proper shower. Is that ok?!”

Violet looked at the clock. 2am. She waved him off, “I don't give a shit.”

She wished she could look back on that moment and say she didn't follow Nathan into the bathroom. That she never joined him in the shower. Or let him fuck her in silence and frustration and fury. That he never used his power to morph himself in a handful of ways, mocking Violet at every chance as their bodies pounded together until she came harder than ever. And most definitely did not fuck a third time after having slept angrily with their backs to each other.

-------

Nathan collapsed beside Violet still on all fours. Her arms waivered as adrenaline and serotonin drained from her body, and collected herself. How guilty she felt that his petulance made her wanton. The ring of the doorbell jarred them both back to reality.

“Oh don't get up. I'll answer it.” Violet threw the nearest shirt on and made her way to the foyer.

Nathan, in his boxers hurried behind her. “I'm a fucking guest. Ye expect me t’answer it?”

“You know a posh bitch like me doesnt answer doors on her own. My fucking maid’s off for the holidays.”

Violet opened the door to a short and cute dark haired girl with barely a toddler on her hip. He reached out for Nathan babbling “Dada Dada Dada” on repeat.

“Marnie?!” He was gobsmacked as the baby wiggled from his mother’s grasp into Nathan’s waiting arms.

A stunned Violet made a poor attempt at stretching the tee shirt she wore into a dress. It was fruitless as it was one of Nathan’s from his duffle. Her hands began to shake as a warmth crawled across her cheeks and nausea set in.

What the fuck is she doing here still? was what Violet said in her mind. “Well um come in,” is what she said with her mouth.

Nathan absently bounced the little boy in his arms as they walked into the living room, “How are ye here? Wit’him?”

Marnie was gawking at the apartment. “Hey this is a right posh gaff you've got. Why couldn't me n’ Nathan junior bunk up here again?”

Violet blanched.

“Oh our passports disappeared. Figured you might ‘ave been done in momentarily,” the young mother turned on the other two and stared from to the other. “Ah you shaggin’ the barrister?!”

“I said when we met t’is would happen, sweetheart. C’mon you know t’ere’s an understanding before we signed the license.”

Now Violet’s head swam, “Are you married? Married. Nathan are you and Marnie..”

“Just a little,” Marnie crossed her arms. “Nathan says if we got hitched your court couldn't make us rat on each other.”

The lawyer had to admit that was pretty genius, something she wished she knew a few weeks ago when she took this case instead of..

“What do you mean a little?”

“No one got a chance to agree. So it's just our signatures. We thought ‘is lawyer might sign ‘em after ‘e got arrested. That's not what you did is it?” She didn't look angry to Violet, merely a little sad.

“Vi you said she left Las Vegas,” Nathan’s tone was one of disbelief. He let the toddler down only because Violet knew he couldn't function without wildly gesticulating as he spoke.

“You left Vegas..” Violet was just too stunned.

“You told me to leave! Said I’d interfere with ‘is trial! Did you tell ‘im about the ASBOs?”

“The shit-heads?” Nathan asked. “What about them? Why would Violet know anything about my friends or talk to you?”

“Because Simon found her to be your lawyer.”

“Barry? He didn't even answer the phone when I called.”

“Well ‘e called me. But so much shit why down it all went barkin’. Some bloke can bring dead people back. That Virtue bitch you told me about killed Alisha because she couldn't kill you.”

Nathan’s mouth hung open, “But she didn't have anything t’do with that. I'm the one who pushed her off the roof. I just.. WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON?!”

Violet went to speak but Marnie cut her off at the pass, “Simon told me to go see Miss Duval because I know how your magic works. But she told me I’d interfere with the trial.”

“How the hell would ye do that?”

Nathan’s nostrils flared like a horse. His green eyes darkened as he waited expectantly in Violet's direction.

“If she showed up with the chip that's evidence! The cops and Tony would know you stole from the casino. And the rest of them are criminals. Theyre fucking criminals and if they knew you ready had a record that could be used against you. ”

“I DIDN'T STEAL ANYTHING! I FUCKING CONJURED IT!!”

“I KNOW, BUT HOW DO I EXPLAIN THAT TO NORMAL HUMANS?!”

“BY MAKING ME PERFORM LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS MONKEY?!”

“YES!! BECAUSE YOUR HEAD IS TOO FAR UP YOUR ASS TO REALIZE WHAT YOU WERE UP AGAINST. AND NEITHER OF YOU IS SMART ENOUGH FOR ANY OTHER STRATEGY! SHE WOULD INCRIMINATE YOU!”

Nathan’s eyebrows creased, there was a quiet fury in his voice, “Then why the FUCK did ye tell Marnie to leave? Ye made me think everyone left me t’rot in jail. I didn't even get to say goodbye t’Alisha or Simon.

“If the District Attorney’s office found Marnie, she wouldn't know enough to plead the fifth. And you, you got arrested for STEALING FUCKING CANDY AND YOUR RESPONSE TO BEING ARRESTED TO TO CAUSE A FUCKING DISASTER FOR YOURSELF INSTEAD OF JUST SHUTTING UP. BECAUSE YOU'RE A PETULANT MAN-CHILD. THERE'S NO WAY WE COULD'VE WON WITH THE LOT OF YOU TOGETHER. You’re too fucking stupid to lie.”

Violet regretted them the moment the words fell out of her mouth. The baby started to cry and Marnie picked him up. She didn't look upset or angry with Violet. Disappointed.

“I didn't mean that, Nathan,” she reached for him but he yanked himself away out of her reach.

Nathan just looked at Violet. Those eyes, ever-changing in color were no longer furious or frustrated. Just full of sadness that tore her apart.

"You’re a treacherous bitch.”

Violet’s chest tightened as Nathan turned his back on her to throw clothes on. Her eyes stung while a blackness clouded her vision. As if she would faint. Yet when he returned, she had recovered before the tears could threaten her further.

“Good luck with this one, then. I've come to realize he'll never love anyone as much as he loves himself.”

Nathan maintained a deafening silence as he and Marnie made to leave, the baby back in his arms. That knife twisting in Violet's chest, an imaginary one to rival the way she had stabbed Nathan. How ignorant Violet had been to think this would ever work out.

“I'm not the one whose partner killed themself to get away from.” And then they were gone.

His heart yesterday for hers today.

#robert sheehan #nathan young #nathan x violet #robert sheehan character fics

[evergreen-dryad]

bnha todochako snippets

apricity - the warmth of the sun in the winter + cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

or: It’s 2 am but you’re craving cake and we’re both up anyway so let’s bake in our underwear AU

-- it’s all domestic, established Todochako down here. and a mess you’ve been warned

"What do you want for Christmas?" He'd asked, peering at the calendar above the fridge.

(They weren't quite sure why they'd put it up there. He could only just reach it, while she often had to stretch to her tippy-toes to tear off a page. Sometimes she just relented and floated herself. They agreed to make it a stretchmark of a sort.)

"Hmm," she said, pretending to think long and deep. "As long as it's not the same--"

"As your birthday gift." He recited drolly. She snapped her fingers, delighted.

"You got it!" She looked at him, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not sure why you still have to ask that," a laugh floated out of her, stirring the quiet air of the kitchen. The sunlight shafted, golden and lazy for a brief moment.

He shrugged. "Just felt like it." The wool of his sweater shifted against his skin, prompting his shoulders to roll, as he sipped his hot cocoa.

It was December 23rd.

. "Silly," she muttered as she came in, prodding him in the side, like an overgrown cat she had just noticed the girth of.

"Why," he deadpanned.

"You can't just snooze the entire Christmas under the kotatsu." Her voice shook with laughter.

"Try me," he droned, and proceeded to sink his entire skeleton within the hood of the kotatsu.

He heard her huff softly, before her foot followed him to prod more insistently at his calf. "Come on, I know we both just got back from our patrols." The muffled sound of her voice filtered through the wood and cloth.

"Yes. Rest." He rumbled, trapping her foot.

"Daylight hours," she reminded, wriggling her toes against his fingers.

"Remember what you said last time about wanting to make the most of our days off?"

He exhaled, stirring some dust left over from the last time they'd cleaned. Right, he'd said that out loud back when it was autumn, and they'd missed going to see the maples and gingkos. He waited for them to settle. "Okay."

He extricated himself, cracking his back on the way.

"Pfft." She bit back a laugh.

He batted lazy eyes at her, readjusting to the light. "Lead the way."

"Mhm." She hummed, hopping into the boots she had just kicked off earlier.

Shouto followed her out the door in his comfortable shoes.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "It's so good that you don't have to bother with too many layers." Her breath fogged as she stepped out into the crisp winter day.

He knew what she was thinking about. "I was just as surprised I'd gone out in sandals."

She sighed out loud then, exaggeratedly. "In a blizzard, really Shouto?" Giggles were foaming in the turn of her smile.

He shrugged, an easy smile following.  "The reporters had a field day out of it."

"Pretty sure you nearly got a few fashion tabloids to make a new trend," she murmured, as she slid her card over the reader. They passed by the gates, following the road to the nearby park. .

Peering up through fingers at the glistening light of winter sky. Shouto stands, outlined, while Ochako looks on, fixated. He is the sun, for all her gravity is drawn to his magnetism, the supernova that is him. She can't look away.

.

(The gravity of a girl you love, who loves you.

There are so many colours within brown. Golds, for instance. The way the sun catches on strands of her hair like it's copper wire aflame.)

.

("And what do you want for your birthday?"

He blinks owlishly. "You are enough."

Ochako had tried for flippant, but clearly it had not prepared her for Shouto's arrow to the heart. "That's not a valid answer," she groaned, twitching with pleasure as he mouthed along the line of her neck, down the wrap of her collar...)

.

"It's fine, it's rather fun. Like a sleepover, y'know?" She'd said back when he'd asked if she'd be fine on the floor. He'd been prepared to look through the mattresses with all the research he'd done too.

.

(In the futon, waking up. Waking up to the one you love. Safe, warm in the cove of arms and blanket, hiding you two completely from the world. Dull light of city washing over the two of you.

it's late. You can't sleep. Shouto is clearly fast asleep. He's never had trouble sleeping, for as long as you've known him. He sleeps deep and still, as undisturbed as a log deep in the forest. You feel rather like an underwater diver happening upon a relic as you watch the strands of his hair shift as he breathes shallowly, blue light washing over him.

You feel quite bad having to wake him up, but needs must. Shouto may be a deep sleeper but he'll know as soon as you begin to extricate yourself from the folds of his arms, as soon as he feels air replace the space that was you.)

.

She breathes over him as she slowly opens her eyes. Adjusts from inner blankness to outer darkness. The lights of the city wash in, trailing in streaks of orange. Lamplight is enough to outline the sleeping shape beside her.

Shouto. As deeply asleep as she’s always known him. He has never had the trouble falling asleep that she does sometimes, the day’s thoughts all a whirligig in her head.

She watches him with half-lidded eyes, tracing the him that is still mostly a silhouette. Legs looped securely with hers under the quilt, one arm holding her close. Sleeping on his cold side, the chill that comforts him more than anyone, ensuring he doesn’t sweat on the sheets instead. His warmth fanning over her instead. She’s grateful. They never have to turn on the thermostat in any season.

It’s winter now. But because he is here beside her, she never needs fret over whether to turn on the heater anymore. She watches his breath lift, coalescing into crystals for a brief moment in time.

Here in the cove of his arms, under the covers. She’s too comfortable to move.

She’s also hungry.

Back before Ochako would have just made herself sleep through it. But she’s no longer teetering on the edge of destitution. She’s no longer living on that scant budget, always worrying whether her parents could make ends meet for the end of the month. When eating another meal would have been unimaginable.

Ah, her smile turns fond as she trails a finger over the sleeping man beside her, I now have someone who’ll notice if I get out of bed. They’re both heroes after all. He’ll feel the space left behind if she somehow finagles out of his embrace.

“Shouto,” she whispers into the shell of his ear. Repeats, until the pattern of his breathing shifts. “Shouto. I’m going to go bake.” A lilting tease enters her tone.

He shifts. “What time is it?” A gruff rumble to his voice.

She looks over his shoulder. “It’s just 2am,” she whispers back.

Shouto finally opens his eyes. “Was dinner not enough?” He sounds mildly reproachful. It was he who cooked last night. And Todoroki Shouto takes pride in showcasing what his mother taught him.

“Mm,” she drags out the sound on her tongue. “I think I’m just excited,” Ochako decides, her finger tapping her chin.

At his questioning gaze, she says, “It’s Christmas Eve.” Settling more into his side, she continues, hand skimming over his chest. Fingertips settle over his collarbones, light as a butterfly. “When I was little I read in storybooks that Western children leave cookies and milk for Santa Claus. I wanted badly to be one of his helpers then, just to have a taste of all these,” she sighs, lips fluttering over his skin.

He hums. “I see.” He cards a hand through her hair, running down to the small of her back. “Shall we go, then?”

She beams into his throat, pressing a kiss over his pulse. “Let’s go~”

They reluctantly part. Ochako takes the blanket, trailing behind Shouto as he trudges to turn on the lights in the kitchen. They both owlishly blink in the yellow glare.

“Now what do we have…” Ochako mutters as she starts opening cabinets.

“Flour — yes. Eggs, hooray! Luckily you didn’t finish them…” Shouto stands, a little lost at the edge of their small kitchen. Fuyumi had only led him through the steps for pancakes once.

“Chocolate!” Ochako pumps the bar in hand. She still has the blanket shawled around her like a cape. “Half-finished packets of nuts and seeds, guess that works too…” She looks to Shouto. “What else do we need?”

He falters. What was in pancakes again? “Butter?”

“Right!” She snatches the lopsidedly wrapped packet out of the fridge. “Milk too, annnnd the sugar, and—” She looks at him expectantly.

He lets out a little sigh. “Let me look it up.” Ochako lets out a little giggle in response, tongue slipping out sheepishly.

Shouto returns to their room for his phone. “Do we have oatmeal?” He asks, while scrolling through options. Ochako reaches for the tub and shakes it.

“Yes.”

“We also need cocoa powder-”

“Nooope we don’t have that.”

“Okay.” He flips to another webpage. “I’m looking at the first of various. Any candy left around will help.” Ochako nods, heading straight to where they store any candy they might receive from friends, co-workers or even just a grateful citizen. Which is usually on the microwave. Neither of them snack that much. Sometimes one of them gets sugar cravings, which is when the stash comes in useful.

“We’ve got some candycanes this time!”

“…we seem to really need cocoa powder.” Shouto wilts. Mint chocolate cookies had sounded perfect. “Peanut butter seems to be a common component of many of these no bake recipes as well.”

Ochako eyes the sole chocolate bar they have doubtfully. “We could mash it up…”

“And vanilla,” he mutters.

“Looks like a trip to the konbini is in order,” Ochako says as she walks over to look over his shoulder.

“This one may just need coconut,” Shouto murmurs as he feels her chin tuck into his space.

“Can we even find coconut in there?” They’re talking about the convenience store right across the street from their apartment building — it’s pretty unlikely they’ll have that kind of baking supply there.

“You never know.” Shouto shrugs, lightly jostling her face against his. She in turn wraps her arms around his waist, nudging her knees against the back of his.

“C’mon, let’s go sit. How many are we making anyway?” Ochako giggles against his ear, watching him scroll through several recipes with a ferocity.

Shouto mumbles indistinctly. It could be ‘don’t know yet’. Ochako’s eyes slit into a fond smile as she pushes his knees towards the couch. He complies halfheartedly. Ah, her dork.

Shouto slumps onto the couch, eyes never leaving the screen. Ochako sits with him for a while, watching him compare tabs before deciding to leave him to it. It seems like it’ll take a while, after all.

She heads into their room to grab a jacket and her wallet instead. Puts back the blanket. Keys, and a bag to put these midnight groceries. Yes, that should be it, she nods to herself, blinking slightly aching eyes from the sudden change in light. And probably the fact that she’s moving rapidly at this hour without a drop of water.

Ochako emerges out of their room, duly reminded to get a drink of water.

Shouto’s head is still bent. “Are you almost done?” She calls over rinsing a mug.

“Nearly. I think these three are good.” Ochako looks around at the ingredients she’d laid out earlier and tries to mentally tally how these might convert to cookies. Right, butter back in the fridge for now. She takes a good long sip.

They probably don’t have enough. They’ll see, she mentally shrugs, before striding back to where Shouto is half-melted into the cushions. He’s practically asleep, poor man. She lets a guilty giggle exhale out.

“Shouto, you want to go back to sleep for a while?” She asks, while taking the phone from his nearly limp hand. He grunts in response, neck going even slacker on the back of the couch. She hums out while she looks at the recipes he’d picked.

This one seemed fairly simple. They had the oil, oreos, chocolate, could make do without chips. Cream cheese was needed: she mentally circles that on the to-do list in her head.

This one used the flour they had, though with the amount of oats used they might as well buy another batch. Along with vanilla and peanut butter. And probably butter. Ochako eyes the fridge, trying to remember exactly how big their remaining slab of butter was. They definitely didn’t have this amount of sugar lying around either.

And if they were going to buy all these, it’s definitely enough for another recipe. Though this one required cocoa powder. Ochako counts them off her fingers. Seven, or eight counting white chocolate.

Could they get all these in their convenience store? She has no idea, but they could probably do without the vanilla.

Probably.

“Alright,” she mutters to herself, gently shaking Shouto awake. He comes to after several lazy blinks. “Are all three okay?” He asks after a while.

“Mhm. Are you good to go out like this?”

Shouto glances over himself. “Yeah.” He slowly stands up, releasing a light yawn.

Close the lights. Shrug on shoes. Open the door, and they’re in the stairwell. Click-clack, go their feet as they opt for the stairs. They smile at each other as they mime going down the steps on tiptoes. A cobweb hangs into Shouto’s face. And then they’re out in wintery air.

Ochako briskly starts moving to keep herself warm, Shouto lopes to follow her pace. They haven’t much to go — the lights of the shop building next to their apartment are just ahead.

The crisp air of the heater envelope them as they push past the glass doors.

*** “So,” Ochako huffs, her left shoulder slumping, finally free of their weight. Shouto, bringing up the rear, unpacks the groceries.

(and this is where I stopped writing. as one sees back in 2019 I spent too much braincells on trying to describe realistic baking at 2am by 2 people who don’t bake. have the rest of the outline tho!)

-apron -start measuring, mixing - ochako takes the blondie, shouto votes for the oreo truffle as he’s the hand crusher. also aids in the classic cookies while his chill in the fridge. -talk about the secret santa their fellow alumni are organising this year - ocha muses over what to get kiri, shou has to their amusement drawn baku who they both know reacts to his overtures of friendship like a sizzling cat

”Something motivational,” she says, lost in thought, not noticing that she’s mixed her mixture perhaps too long. Shouto pulls the bowl from her.

“Something manly,” adds Shouto. “You could get him one of those old-time sumo prints?” At Ochako’s uncomprehending gaze he explains, “Something like ancient style painted waves.”

“Hmm.”

“Or mini-weights, I’m sure he’ll like those.”

“This is Kirishima we’re talking about. By this stage of his life he’s probably gathered all classes of weights already. What else is manly…”

-continue kitchen noises and motion

“Never mind. I’ll sleep on it.” She sighs. “What about you? Have you decided on something for Bakugou?”

He grunts. “Either merch or -” The image of Bakugou blowing up the gift and yelling ‘I already have this’ pops into his head. “Never mind, Bakugou is much more of a collectionist than he lets on to be.”

Ochako stifles her laugh. “You can just call him a nerd, Shouto.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to Midoriya.” They both smile wryly in agreement.

“Hmm. Now this is a dilemma.”

“Righhht?”

-put their heads together some more

“what about handmade stuff?”

“How much more time do we have? We’re meeting up,” glances at the calendar next to the clock, “tomorrow, actually.”

Ochako screams quietly. “Okay, er…”

“There are always the cookies we made,” Shouto points out.

“Uh-huh, back-up gift. Yao-momo’s quirk would come in so handy right now,” she groans. “Fish hat?” she mutters to herself, the thought not quite pinned down. Does Kirishima even like hats? Why is she thinking about hats?

“What does Kirishima like to do? Train. What do both of them like? Also train. And spar. And in Bakugou’s case, win-”

“Videogame?” Shouto suggests out of the blue.

“Ooh.” Ochako slaps her palm. “That has potential.”

The question now is, what videogame? And on that thought Ochako has another: “Book. Motivational book or quotes for Kiri.” She points a finger at Shouto. “Since videogame seems more Bakugou’s thing.”

“Get the Art of War by Sun Tzu for him,” Shouto suggests.

“Good idea!” Ochako bounces, excited. “Hopefully he doesn’t already have it.”

“Back-up.” Shouto points to the cookies.

“Yup. And for Bakugou, eh… videogames aren’t really my thing, but what about something he can really take his anger out on? Like karaoke?”

“You’re saying that as if he needs a stress ball. Which he does. I’ll look something up online.”

***

//notes: all snippets/headcanons written back in 2019 for a secret santa, but I unfortunately never managed to hand it in. Very unlikely to write this wip anymore, so I’ll just dump out this can of brainworms.

bonus/more hcs:

-it starts with them being neighbours - move into the same cheap, jap-style apartments -agencies close-by (ura still in tokyo, but it is closer to the train station so both can travel easier for their respective parents) -likely he wants nothing to do with endeavour's money -he'll live a simple life completely outside of his help -same Japanese tastes (except todo's probably more classic while ocha's more konbini style) (they cross well at homemade - Todo gets fuyumi to teach him more after moving in - satisfaction at blowing ocha's mind with eg. wagyu beef sandwiches) (todo being a proud housewife is just??? Their friends had spluttered at the sight of him putting on a pink frilly apron with no change in expression) -his mum is completely happy and very excited to teach him more recipes (over letter for now, she can't quite go near a stove yet)  -doesn't mind electric cookers

"The pee is motivation to start the day early!" squad - ocha, kiri, smtimes baku not that he ever admits it bcs he's a rough sleeper even more so from being the victim of villain attacks  -> (wow this was in my notes??? wow??)

#bnha #todochako #uraraka ochako #todoroki shouto #mha #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my writing #ed fics #yes more of me organising wips and bailing out brainspace #yeep the wit

[ayellowcurtain]

This is part 2 of that self-indulging, angsty, sad, time travel!AU that I wrote a couple of days ago. This will get smutty at some points, very sad, there’s still the cheating plot. I guess this is basically it. It’s very, very long because I didn’t feel like making a bunch of parts of it since this is just basically for myself. 

And because it’s basically a word vomit, this is not exactly as well thought or well put as I usually do. Read it at your own risk <3 

It’s been almost a year. Eliott saw every month going by this time. He didn’t do much other than going to work and back to an empty house, but he lived his life? Not how he wanted, but after that Christmas night he realized there wasn’t much good in sitting around, waiting for Lucas to knock on his door. He wasn’t going to do it.

He only skipped the holidays. Eliott didn’t tell his parents he and Lucas were done otherwise they would want him back home, moving on with his life and Eliott really doesn’t feel like doing any of those right now. But staying days in a row inside the flat wouldn’t help his mental health either and so he skipped any and every holiday.

Even though Lucas wasn’t following him on Instagram, Eliott still posted a few times, trying to somehow get a message out to Lucas of how sorry he was or how much he was missing Lucas.

On Lucas’ birthday, Eliott sent him a message, not sure if Lucas would be able to see it if he wasn’t following Eliott, but he did it anyway. On his own birthday too and on both days they always argued as being their anniversary.

No response.

After doing the basic shopping for another Christmas alone, Eliott came back home determined to send Lucas an email with all his thoughts. He sat on the floor and opened his laptop, putting every word out as quickly as it came to his head, rereading again to see what he could send or not.

Hi

I know I’m the last person you want to hear of, but I just needed to send this to you…

I’m not going to give up, Lucas. Even if you never take me back, I don’t plan on trying to fall in love again because I just can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want to either. I miss everything about you, about us, about how I was when you were around. This might be a little late, but my parents don’t know about us so if you ever talk to them, please don’t tell. I don’t wanna leave our flat and go back to living with them. I’m okay here. And it’s our house so I don’t want to leave it behind. They think you’re busy with college and I’m busy with college and work so they don’t really ask much either.

Don’t know where I want to go with this stupid email, I just needed to talk to you or pretend that I’m talking and you’re listening. I bought a Christmas gift for you. You don’t have to tell me where you are or anything. I just wanted to buy something and I did. Maybe it’ll sit somewhere in the flat forever, I don’t care. I hope you’re doing ok, that you’re feeling better, at least.

I’m sorry again. For everything. I never wanted to hurt you.

I love you.

Eliott

-

There weren’t any real expectations in him about getting any reaction, but Eliott checks his emails every five minutes anyway. He’s almost sure he already went back to every good night they had together and deep down, he had every expectation of getting an email back, even one filled with hate.

Days go by, it’s the New Year’s Eve, Eliott had a bunch of parties he could go to and get shitfaced, but he chose to stay in yet again. Maybe Lucas would call or text and Eliott couldn’t risk missing it.

He organized the flat a little bit, shoved every piece of clothing that was dirty inside (or on top) of their washing machine and closed the door to avoid looking at it. He bought as many champagnes and wines and vodkas as he could find and tried to make a recipe that Lucas had teached him. It didn’t work too well so he had to make some research online, but as he turned the oven off, he heard someone knocking on his door constantly.

His parents went to spend the weekend with their friends, Eliott’s friends were partying somewhere where probably Lucas was too. Most of their friends are close now, Sofiane is dating Imane so Eliott is just trying to stay out of their way, to make this situation the best he can make for everyone else.

Eliott rushes to the door, thinking there’s only one person that could come here tonight. He struggles to open it, but finally manages it, his heart almost dropping to the floor as he sees the only person he wanted to see tonight and every night.

Lucas doesn’t say a word, they’re just a meter or two away from each other and Lucas ends the distance instantly, throwing himself at Eliott, whining when their lips meet weirdly, but they still know the way. Lucas pushes them inside and slams the door behind himself. Eliott can taste the cheap beers in his tongue, but Lucas is not too drunk. Eliott knows Lucas, every inch of him, every mannerisms, what he likes or doesn’t like, what he listens to, what bothers him and when he’s too drunk. Lucas is at the point where if they were together at a party, he would normally cling to Eliott’s neck, asking for them to go back home.

Eliott leads every movement, every touch, every kiss with intent, making sure to worship all that is Lucas’, desperately trying to find a way to make him stay and love him again. He feels and hears every moan that Lucas lets it slip, every goosebump that goes through his body.

It feels like their surroundings turn blurry. Eliott opens his eyes, still in shock that Lucas is here, in his arms again. He tries to keep his tears inside his eyes, putting his hands on Lucas’ face, making sure that he’s real, kissing his cheeks, his eyelids, his temple, not even aware that he’s talking, telling Lucas how much he loves him, begging him to stay, to forgive him.

At the same time that Eliott tries to be present in the moment, their night also feels like a long lasting dream.

-

The bed is empty when he wakes up and Eliott panics, sitting up straight away, looking around for any evidence that last night really happened. With all these time travels, sometimes Eliott can get confused about what really happened now or in the past.

But then he hears the water running down the old pipes of their building on the wall on his left. He hears the water splashing on the floor like when Lucas is washing his hair.

It bothers him that he woke up and didn’t invite Eliott to join him, but Eliott knows Lucas wouldn’t do it. He feels like this was just sex for Lucas. He’s cleaning himself and then he’s out the door again.

It’s hard to think straight on what he should do. All he wants is to be with Lucas again, taking a shower with him, but he doesn’t want to be rejected again. Eliott looks around him, reminiscing about last night already, he lays down carefully, smelling the pillow Lucas used. He still smells the same and Eliott holds the pillow tightly, breathing in slowly, filling his lungs completely.

He’s so stupid. Everything is still in the air, but he feels so much better just by the sound of his old shower turned on, imagining Lucas underneath the stream of how water.

Eliott gets up and walks to the bathroom door, opening it carefully. It still creaks, but Eliott wants Lucas to know he’s getting inside anyway so he just closes the door behind him, resting against it, watching Lucas for a moment: grabbing the conditioner, washing his hair again, moving around like it’s his bathroom and even that makes Eliott feel at ease. Lucas is looking at the wall in front of him, his back to the rest of the bathroom, especially to Eliott.

He walks carefully, getting inside with Lucas, closing the curtain so the water won’t go everywhere, carefully putting both his arms around Lucas’ small waist, holding his own arms on the other side, nuzzling into Lucas’ cheek, their bodies completely flat against each other. Lucas’ skin is so warm and smooth from the warm water. He doesn’t really ignore Eliott, lets him hug him and stays close, but Lucas doesn’t say a word, washing his face slowly.

Once he’s done with his shower, Lucas stops, looking over his shoulder and Eliott looks at him, waiting for him to say anything, but Lucas’ hand just comes to the back of his neck, holding his hair gently, pulling him closer for a kiss. It feels like the old times when Lucas would pour his feelings into their kisses. Eliott puts his hands on the sides of Lucas’ waist and offers the option of turning him around, Lucas does it and puts his hands on Eliott’s shoulder, still so careful.

They kiss for a long time, enjoying every second of it, Lucas sighs in between the kiss like he used to do and Eliott holds him tighter. Things move faster from there, Lucas is so pliant to his touch, letting Eliott lead him to lean against the wall behind him, hooking one leg around his thigh instantly.

Eliott kisses every inch of Lucas’ body he’s allowed to, trying to show how much he loves him again, constantly worried this is the last time he’ll be allowed to touch Lucas.

-

Eliott can still taste Lucas in his tongue. Just the reminder makes him so happy. There’s still something going on inside Lucas’ head, but Eliott lets himself have this moment. Lucas is here with him and that’s more than what he deserves so he’ll take everything that Lucas  is willing to give him.

He finally turns the shower off, turning around to watch Lucas dry himself careuflly, putting the towel around his waist. As Eliott grabs a towel for himself, he waits for whatever Lucas is about to say. He’s been staring at the closed door in front of him and Eliott is just hoping this is not another goodbye.

“You’ve never let yourself love me as much as you do, or did.”

Eliott wasn’t expecting that. He thought a lot about these moments, when and if he would have a chance to talk to Lucas again and in every scenario, he never heard something like this. “Don’t say that...” is the only thing he manages to say.

“It’s true, you were always afraid and held back and it blew in our faces with Lola...Or you feel all at once or you don’t feel at all and you tried to balance your feelings for me and that’s what led us here. When you asked me if you could kiss her...I couldn’t even believe you were asking me that.”

His words hit Eliott like a punch in his stomach. He doesn’t know what to say after that, what’s the right thing to say if this is the last conversation they have.

“Lucas. The first time you went to my place, you played the piano and I’ve never felt so much like in that moment” Eliott walks closer to Lucas, stopping a step or two from him, “Maybe you’re right, sometimes I did hold back, but not anymore. And if you really think I held back, then I know all this time that we’ve been apart you thought that I felt everything with anyone else but you and that’s not true. If you’re right and I don’t know how to control my feelings, you need to know this: I never felt anything for Lola.”

Eliott knows that talking about what he did still hurts Lucas and hurts himself to see Lucas’ strong, cold walls fall the instant he hears her name.

“You saw yourself in her and-” he tries, but stops before he can actually break in front of Eliott.

“Stop! Lucas!” Eliott walks up to him, putting his hands on his cheeks, trying to keep himself from crying and begging for forgiveness again. “I don’t give a shit about anyone else. I see myself in you, in what we still feel for each other.”

They both take a deep breath in to stop their tears from falling down their cheeks and Eliott leans down, resting his forehead against Lucas’.

“Fuck, we’ve talked about this so many times now, it’s been so fucking long and it’s not helping! What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. We’re gonna keep hurting each other forever just to constantly be trying to balance my mistakes? I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything else, but he manages to rebuild his walls so quickly, he looks so collected that scares Eliott. It scares him the fact that he might not get through Lucas anymore. That during all this time apart, Lucas managed to shield himself, to suffocate his feelings for Eliott so much that Eliott has no way inside his brain or heart anymore.

“Do you love me?” The words slip out of his mouth filled with worry and Lucas’ eyes shoot up instantly, straight into his eyes. It’s a mix of anger and hurt, but Eliott is relieved to see some kind of emotion coming from Lucas towards him, even if it’s just bad ones. Eliott would choose anything that’s not numbness.

“What kind of fucking question is that?”

“I just need to know if I still have a chance. If so, then I’ll keep trying until you’re healed. I can wait, I’m not in a rush. I’m not leaving you if you let me.”

Lucas doesn’t answer again, but he steps back and opens the bathroom door and goes to their bedroom and Eliott takes that as a small sign. All he wants is for Lucas to stay for now. He’ll accept anything he can get, even if that means buying himself just a few more hours.

-

Eliott can’t remember the last time he slept so well. His body was in much need of a whole night of sleep. Before he can actually wake up, he feels arms and legs coming from behind him, legs tangling around his thighs, both heels locking in front of him and arms around his chest, locking him in against a warm, small and strong body that Eliott knows so well. He turns his top half just enough to put his arm back, around Lucas’ neck, playing with his hair in the back of his neck, silently asking for a kiss that he surprisingly gets.

#skam france #elu fic #Lucas Lallemant #eliott demaury #lucas x eliott #elu

[iphoenixrising]

How d’you think everyone’s favorite threesome in the Doctor!universe would spent Christmas? Or perhaps just Christmas Eve, if they go to the manor for the big day? -🐉

Aww, hi babe!

Hm, we’re going to talk a minute about Dr!Tim? You know, after a bit of thought, I think Tim’s first Christmas after finding a vigilante on his fire escape bleeding out would have probably started out awful. 

Let’s say he’s usually the one to work Christmas Eve and into Christmas Day whenever he could during his time learning under Tony Stark before he started his Residency in Gotham. 

He didn’t have Stephanie and Layla or anyone else but Tony, really, so it was fine for him to take shifts so people with families could be off with the ones they loved. 

Once he got to Gotham and met back up with Steph and pretty much became Uncle Timmy to Layla, he only took Christmas Eve or Christmas Day off when they weren’t out of town visiting with Steph’s mom. The years Layla’s dad has her, they run the Gauntlet together, and work until they’re sleep-deprived and delirious, laughing at crazy things while they stumble to Steph’s house to pass the fuck out for twelve hours or Tim’s penthouse to binge some boring nature show.

But last year Layla’s dad had her, so this year, his girls are off to Metropolis, waving at him out the back window. Steph offered a place for him, but he knows her mom’s place will be cramped as is, so he just watches them go with his heart in his throat, and no shift at Mercy General to keep him up and moving.

I think he spends Christmas Eve wearing the ugly sweater Layla got him, something crazy playing on Netflix completely un-Christmas related because he doesn’t really have good memories of the holiday, not even from when his parents were alive. 

(One year, Mrs. Mac stopped by to check on him and bring him cookies, gave him a hug and a pat on the head before she left to be with her daughter and grandchildren. When he was really young, he can remember laying on his mother’s lap with the tree glowing gently, opening presents with them there, watching and laughing. The next year, they were on a dig somewhere exotic, just like the year after and the year after that until they were just gone, never coming back this time...)

So, he plans to keep himself busy and ignore all the movies and decorations, ignore the warmth and family and togetherness. He’s going to bury himself in research and tech articles, write on one of his articles for a medical journal, maybe hang out in his lab down the hall for a few hours, just let Christmas–

–go on without him.

The knock on his window at three a.m. is jarring, shocking because the city has been silent for hours at this point. 

The second round is enough to make him stand up off the couch, wander closer to the window with squished brows, probably bleary eyed from staring at the screen for too long (probably also from those old memories rearing up). 

When he moves the curtains, and those whiteouts are right there, he eeps and almost falls on his ass.

The window is nudged up by a gloved hand, Nightwing hanging upside down with a Santa cap somehow staying on his head when he swings in without hesitation.

“Timmy! Are you okay?! Geeze, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you’d be awake at this time of night.”

“Wazzat, Big Wing? Got Timmers with that old trick?” Hood is right on his heels, calves wrapped around the wrought iron fire escape, the Elf hat probably on the helmet with double-sided sticky tape. 

“Wh–?” Wide-eyed, looking from Nightwing to the Red Hood peeking in at him, he’s pretty much at a loss. 

“We came to see if you were home! You weren’t working at Mercy tonight.”

“Sides, it’s Christmas, ya feel me, Baby Bird?”

Hood tosses a small sack inside before he’s through the window just that fast, he and Big Wing offering hands down to their sometimes personal physician.

“Oh, I mean, I tried to sign up for a shift, but the Chief of Staff said I couldn’t work another double,” he shrugs and wearily lays his hands in gloved ones, imagining the warmth of palms against his, lets them pull him to his feet.

“Mmhm,” Hood hums as he and N pull their doc to his feet, looks him over critically. “Looks like ya been up long enough,” the free hand thumbs the dark circles under his eyes.

The doctor quirks a brow at them, “well, let me at least make you some coffee before you have to go back out in the cold. Does anyone in the class have any potentially fatal injuries you’d like to tell me about before I have a whole lot of unconscious vigilante on my couch?”

Both vigilantes obligingly hold up their hands and turn in small circles to show off no punctures in the suits or injuries he can see. Nightwing is grinning softly at him and Hood gives him a thumbs up in an all good here. 

They follow him to the kitchen, exchanging a glance after his back is turned, wondering where the Christmas Tree is, or decorations, at least. There’s only one sad little construction paper wreath on the end table by the door made by Layla, but that’s...it. 

Gauntlets and gloves come off, helmet and holsters on the back of a chair while the coffee perks and Tim moves around his kitchen, talking idly about doing some research before bed, fervently hoping they don’t ask him the hard questions.

But, of course, Tim doesn’t talk much about his past with anyone, not even Ives and Steph, prefers to just keep moving forward instead of looking back. He might be a little more compromised tonight than usual, and pours coffee with a slightly trembling hand.

It might be the night Nightwing and Hood start taking more of a shine to their doctor than they should, considering how close to danger he is just by helping them when the injuries are bad and they’re in a bind. It might be how he obviously has no one to be with on Christmas, how he doesn’t have anyone to celebrate with, to decorate for, to have presents wrapped up, or leftovers from a good dinner in his fridge. 

They’re detectives and the story is right there in every inch of the penthouse, in Tim’s awful sweater and pj pants, his slightly red eyes, the way he won’t really meet their eyes when they talk about the quiet night in the city because of the holiday. 

They stay with him until dawn, drinking coffee and juice, watching awful fails on YouTube, waiting until Tim’s finally tired enough to pass out on the couch between them. 

And dawn is just peeking on the horizon when Nightwing gently carries the doctor to bed, Hood pulling the sheets back, maybe lightly touching Tim’s hair before covering him back up. 

The two ease out of the room and close the door behind them.

When Tim wakes up the next night, Christmas Day will be over in a few hours, and he’s grateful because the world can finally go back to normal. Steph and Layla will be back, and the Gauntlet will be waiting for them to try saving Gotham in their own way. Nightwing and Hood will get beat-up fighting the good fight and at least come to him when they need to. Robin will still tt at him, Tony will visit soon to just remind Tim he’s making awful life choices. Lucas will ride his ass about how much he works and Ives will be his safe haven. The world will somehow balance out again. 

He won’t get stuck like this next year, just make sure he’s always on the schedule when his people have other places to go. 

But when he finally pulls himself out of bed, gets his feet under him to stumble in and try finding something to eat in his kitchen, his gaze falls on something sparkly sitting on his bedside table. Something vaguely square and wrapped in crazy black and yellow paper with little bat signals on them, the ribbons Robin red and green.

He’ll gasp softly, his heart leaping into his throat, blink once, and then blink again.

The package is still there.

He tentatively touch the box with trembling fingertips, pull it against his chest, hold on a little too tightly with his eyes wet and a laugh on his face at the utter absurdity of it.

But damn if it doesn’t give him the strength to get his legs under him, and fucking stand.

(Jay and Dick don’t find out until next year that Tim never opened the present, wanted to keep it just like that since he hadn’t gotten gifts from anyone but Steph, Layla, and Ives in years. It comes out the next year when they drag him to the Manor for a few hours before riding back to the penthouse to meet up with Steph and Layla, when there’s a massive tree decorated with stacks of presents underneath. When his place has lights strung up all around and cut-out snowflakes from Batgirl, when the ornaments are Nightwing blue and Robin red, Jay and Dick drug him to Hobby Lobby to pick out. When the special one with three snowmen labeled Dick, Jay, Tim is right in the middle surrounded by Layla’s nutcracker, Dami’s picture one from school, and Lian’s ballerina. Steph managed to get a few picture of the three of them together wearing Santa hats and the picture is framed on the end table. 

When they get home that night, cuddling on the sofa a year later, watching It’s a Wonderful Life and drinking eggnog Alfred sent with them, Jay will ask why he never used the little gift they left him last year. And Tim will get a little pink in the face when he admits he never opened it, he just put it away with his other good memories, not wanting to spoil the magic.

That earns him soft kisses and more cuddles since Dick is literally a cuddle machine, and Jay finds it so easy to fit their little boyfriend under his chin. 

They’re on either side of him when he finally brings the box after some digging, and pulls out the bow.

The small device fits in the palm of his hand, easily fits in his doctor’s bag.

“A comm, in case you ever needed to contact us,” Dick tells him with a kiss to his temple.

“We started takin’ a shine ta ya, Baby. Thought ya might use it when we don’t come ta ya, you feel me?”

“Oh,” and he has to clear his throat, his voice a little wavery, his eyes a little hot. “That’s...even back then?”

“Merry Christmas, Timmy,” Dick replies gently in answer, palming the back of his neck. 

“Merry Christmas, Sweets,” Jay’s deft fingers move the comm to thread their fingers together and hold on.

“Merry Christmas,” he chokes, face buried in Jay’s neck, squished between them while the lights from the tree glow and the warmth in his chest is so beautifully, perfectly fragile. 

It’s certainly the best Christmas ever.)

#winter rambles #dr!tim #some sad but happy ending #pre and post relationship #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #dickjaytim

[punkpoemprose]

December 16th- Bias and Bikinis

Universe: 1950′s AU/ Country Club AU

Rating: T (Teen & Up, Anna flirting in a bikini, swearing like once)

Length: 2015 Words

A/N: Oh you know I had to write Anna into one of these slamming 50′s bikinis. I apologize for nothing, except not showing you more! So here’s Rich Girl! Anna flirting with Pool Boy! Kristoff! Inspired in part by a post (that I can’t find) where @awesomemaple and I talked about Anna showing up around Kristoff in something both sweet and appropriate and simultaneously excessively suggestive, just to see him sweat. I will absolutely write that specific fic sometime very soon (once I find the post, I’m so sorry) but until then, here’s a taste of what that’s going to look like.

Anna was not flirting with the pool boy, that would be against club policy and she was a respectable young lady. No, she wasn’t flirting with the pool boy. She was torturing him.

She had, however, been flirting with him the first week the pool opened for the summer. She’d bought herself drink after drink after drink because he was cute, and it meant that she could shown him her ID. She thought that maybe a wink and the proof that she was 18, old enough to drink, old enough to do… other things… might be enough for him to catch her drift, but for a while it didn’t really seem to get her anywhere with him. Either he didn’t notice, or he wasn’t sure of what to make of her, and she wanted to, at least, interest him enough to get him to talk to her.

She upped her game after that, finding the courage to just come out and ask him if he was doing anything after work. She’d put her best charm into it, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. He, in return, had rather gruffly told her that he didn’t want to be “a rich girl’s summer romance”.

It had hurt her in the moment. She was certain that he hadn’t meant for it to hurt her thought, He’d given her an apologetic look that almost made up for her discomfort and embarrassment, but the assumptions he’d already made about her with those words cut deep. Was she a rich girl? Yes. Was she looking for a summer romance? Also, yes. But, also no.

He was attractive and she di want to go on a date with him, but she wasn’t looking for some kind of whirlwind kiss and tell summer romance to tell girls about in the dorms, she wanted something serious. Whether that was love or friendship or neither was based on compatibility. She’d ended a romance before because of a “whirlwind” and she certainly wasn’t looking for another.

She was torturing him, and she did feel a little guilty about it, but not enough to stop. She came to the pool everyday she could, lips red, hair pinned perfectly and laid herself out on a deck chair under a shady umbrella. She’d read books in her bikini, ordering cokes and otherwise ignoring Kristoff Bjorgman’s general existence, even when she took her drink from him and slid him a tip like he was just anyone else.

It was a win-win. She had plenty of reading she wanted to get done before starting college in the fall, and she could watch him watching her from behind her dark sunglasses without giving him even the slightest bit of satisfaction. She wore two-pieces she’d seen described in magazines as “sweet” and “flattering” or “curve-enhancing”. She put a great level of effort into selecting the styles and patterns that perfectly walked the line of tasteful and utterly devastating for any man looking at her. She’d had her sister help her in the decision-making process and she couldn’t deny the results.

Sometimes when she knew his eyes were on her, she’d casually reposition herself, arch her back, shift her hips, angle herself so he got a better look at the strip of bare skin between her top and bottoms, just below the curve of her breasts.

She would never admit it out loud, but every time she did so, a little voice in the back of her head would tell him to suffer. And suffer he did. She enjoyed watching him sweat, and tug at his collar, knowing that it was her and not the sun making him uncomfortable. It was almost the end of the summer when he’d finally had enough to pull her aside.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered under his breath. Anna had to do all she could to hide a pleased smile from her face.

“What’s that?” she asked, feigning innocence and tucking her sunglasses into her bag. She’d just been planning to change and head out for the evening when he’d approached her. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head and she took great pride in how red he got when he gestured to her and waved his hands a bit. That he found her so attractive that he assumed she needed no other explanation was flattering to say the least. It also spoke to her ability to see a plan through, and she almost giggled about that particular element.

“Oh! My bathing suit?” she asked, “I’m sorry if you find this one makes you uncomfortable. I’ve worn several others this summer. Is there one you prefer I switch it out with? Maybe the blue one with the little bow between my…”

He turned eve redder, and she thought perhaps it was unwise to make advances while half-naked to a man well over twice her size, but if the way he’d spent the whole summer looking at her like a man starved and then immediately averting his eyes was any indication of character, he was a gentleman, not a player. She knew as much to begin with, of course. She’d done her research before she’d started being interested in him in the first place, and she’d heard from several very reliable sources that he was going into his senior year of college and had a sparkling reputation. Knowing that, and seeing the way he was looking at her like he was about to burst, was what drove her to add, “You did seem to like that one.”

His eyes went wide, and she was certain with the way he was swallowing and fidgeting that the cat well and truly had his tongue. Oh how she’d like to be that cat. For all her “payback” she was still interested in him. She suspected that she wouldn’t have tried even half as hard to befuddle him all summer long had she not been interested, but he was cute and respectful when she wasn’t making it hard for him to be so, and underneath it all, she was hoping that he’d start flirting back. She’d spent just as many hours over the summer fantasizing about him walking over and kissing her as he’d spent enjoying the view of her in her blue bikini.

“You were doing it on purpose,” he said, deflating a bit, and frowning which was what upset her far more than admitting that she had been teasing him, encouraging and enticing him.

“Guilty,” she said, and flushed a bit herself, giving him a sheepish smile. She couldn’t take it back now, and she didn’t want to. She was interested in seeing where this would take them, and she could only hope that he would understand that her interest in him had been genuine.

“So what was it all? Just a way to make fun and watch me panic from behind those shades of yours, or…?”

She sighed, feeling less confident about the whole thing and a lot more guilty. It had never really been about making fun of him, so much as it had been meant to be a tease. She’d just wanted to show him what he was missing out on, to give him a little taste of his own medicine, making him want what he can’t have, even though she’d really have him in a minute if he wanted her too.

“No. Well, I mean it was intentional and I was watching you sometimes through my shades, but I never intended to poke fun. Just… I just wanted you to know what it felt like for me to be there with you looking so nice every day. I just wanted…” she trailed off, leaving it there and hoping that she hadn’t just upset him terribly.

“Me?” he asked, sounding a bit incredulous, “In this getup?”

Truly she did imagine he’d look better out of the club’s uniform shirt and trousers, but even in them he was quite handsome. She particularly liked his eyes, soft and earthy and expressive in a way that when he looked at her, she felt warm, and it was, once again, no fault of the sun’s. When he smiled it brightened her mood immensely. He flushed a bit, like her compliment had caught him off-guard, like he wasn’t used to someone thinking he was handsome.

She nodded, “Yes! I didn’t ask you out because I thought you were unattractive. I’ve been told I’m a fool, but I don’t think I’m that bad.”

He seemed taken aback by that, but she didn’t worry so much about it because his expression went soft.

“Aw hell, you mean that… all that… what you said before…” he trailed off and slouched a bit, making himself seem smaller in the space as he realized the situation they’d been in a bit more clearly. Anna found it rather endearing when he gave her a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry! It’s just… I was a goof. Look usually when someone seems interested in me, it’s just an act. I know I’m a big guy, I’m clumsy sometimes, I don’t really know how to talk to… Anyway, I know the way I am, so I just… I’ve been made the fool once or twice so I’m a little defensive. I didn’t realize you meant it when you wanted to meet me after work, so I just went for the best answer I could think of.”

He seemed nervous and more than a bit shy, so instead of pushing even harder than she already was, particularly given she was still in her bathing suit, she reached into her bag for a pen. Even though she’d just spent the entirety of the summer teasing him, his admission of fear stemming from the ways other women had treated him broke her heart. She understood a bit more about why he’d been so quick to deny her without any real knowledge of her intentions.

She reached out and touched his hand gently once she found her pen. His hand, that had been balled up at his side, tentatively relaxed at her touch. She smiled at that and gently pressed his hand open with her fingers. There was an intimacy in the act, one different than the one she’d experienced over the summer when he’d been watching her, and it made her heart race. When his palm was open he gave her a look that was something between nervous and curious.

She flushed under the scrutiny of his gaze as she removed the cap from her felt-tipped pen and jotted down her home phone number, her name, and the hours between which he could call her. She blew on his hand, getting so close that she almost smudged her lipstick against his hand as she dried the ink. It was another strangely intimate action, and she felt his hand shake slightly under her attention.

“Give me a ring?” she asked curiously, releasing his hand to allow it to once more fall at his side. That he didn’t ball it up again was something that she counted as a win.

She saw the corner of his mouth turn up as she tossed the pen back into her bag, preparing to leave finally, for the day.

“I will. Right after I get out, if that’s alright?”

She liked that answer well and truly and gave him a last nod and smile before stepping away to go and change into her dress and head home for the day.  

If the smile she caught sight of as she walked away was any indication, he’d decided better of his opinion on summer romances with rich girls. Whether it be because the fact that she was the right girl in question, or whether it be because the summer was almost over, Anna didn’t know. She did, however, like to think that it was the former.

She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, where they’d almost pressed into his palm, and hurried herself off to home, where she’d wait anxiously by the phone for his call.

#kristanna advent 2019 #kristanna #1950's AU #Country Club AU

[aures-rose]

Disclaimer: Very much and very little have happened since my last update. I broke my ankle last month and that’s kept me from really roleplaying and writing like I might normally in frequency, quality, and duration. Despite this, I have a lot to write since a lot of this happened before my incident. Anyways! To the entry!

Dear Diary,

So much has happened since my last entry! Where do I even start? I had my first practical potions lesson this year! Deputy Headmistress is teaching it, and she had a cauldron of a love potion called Amortentia. It smelled like firewood and the ocean and flowers, wisteria I think. Maybe lavender. Someone, I think it was Eve, said it smells like whatever you find the most attractive. So I guess I like campfires by the sea. Which makes sense actually, we always had that campfire under the pergola where Mother’s wisteria grew. Anyways, Eve and I brewed the Antidote to Common Poisons which seems like a useful thing to be able to brew. I didn’t even know I could brew, but I didn’t mess up!

After class, Eve and I went down to the campsite near Dumbledore’s grave and we hung out for a while. She told me how she and Marigold had talked about doing a group Halloween costume for the bash this year as plants that can be found in the forest. Eve really likes herbology you see and she got a book from her mum about different plants, I think she said they may have been Victorian plants, I can’t remember. She was talking about going as some kind of mushroom and I had the idea of being a rose, with a paper mache rose head on or something.

Later on I ran into Margo again. She was heading back to the common room and since I knew a shortcut through Lady Prudence, I showed it to Margo. I told her it really pays off to talk to the portraits in school and she said she’d have to talk to more of them. She invited me into the first year dorm where she was supposed to meet Venus- another first year. Venus was going to tell Margo a secret. Margo took me to their dorm and introduced me to Venus who seems really nice and likes plants. Her mum plays music too, piano I think she said. I promised to show her where the music room is sometime, a lot of first years seem to not know about it, I guess because we have no music professor this year. Venus and Margo both showed me their beds, Margo likes plants and Venus also likes stars! Then Venus told us she’d overheard a friend talking to a boy and she’d learned of a secret room through one of the portraits. She was supposed to show us the next day but I ended up being really busy. I’ll have to ask Margo to show me sometime. Also, I think I really like the name Venus. I know it’s a planet and a Roman Goddess, but I like it because how romantic it sounds.

Anyways, I had Herbology with Eve next. I really do hate Herbology. I mean, I like looking at flowers and plants but I just don’t get it. But in class we were collecting mushrooms from the edge of the forest. Venus asked me to partner with her but I’d already partnered with Eve so I had to tell her no. Eve and I talked about herbology for a while and mostly she picked all the mushrooms with these really nice scissors she had. After class, we sat in the courtyard and talked. We decided instead of going by the dock, we were going to sneak brooms and fly to a secret place on the castle which will become our secret place. We’ll bring supplies like blankets and stuff and we’ll hide out there for our sleepover.

We also talked about Ghoul Studies because it was going to be our next class. We talked about Professor Esper and how romantically he talks and also how he wears… a flower on his suit which Eve says represents mourning, or it did in Victorian times. I wonder if Professor Esper is mourning a long dead sweetheart from his days as a student. Wouldn’t that be romantic? In class the Head Boy, Elliott sat near us and we both told him we’d bet money on him with Nora for the TriWizard Cup. Professor Esper also had asked Eve to cast a spell and levitate all the homework to his desk but she couldn’t do it. She asked me for help and I was actually able to do it!

Then came DADA. Not the good DADA though. No. DADA with stupid Professor Vikander. Can you believe he took TWENTY POINTS from Gryffindor just because some boy’s spell backfired? That made me so mad! My blood actually started to boil, I swear! Actually, my hands did get really hot and so did my face and the edges of my eyes got real blurry like… I couldn’t help it and I ended up yelling at Professor Vikander. I… said some not nice things about how he didn’t care about his students and I wished I was a Hufflepuff because Professor Priaulx is better and actually cares. I can’t believe he let me get away with everything I said, really. Tom and Eve were trying really hard to calm me down and I think that’s the only reason I really left the class. It’s so embarrassing getting angry like that. I need to remember to take my calming drought always. Anyways, we were making our way down the tower and there was a crowd at the bottom. And in that crowd was the boy who’d lost us all those points. I couldn’t help myself! I tried to petrify him… from there it all went crazy. Everything happened so fast but Eve tackled me and my spell hit Talula I think. Elliott came down and pulled Eve off me and she explained she wasn’t attacking me, she was trying to stop me and then everything got even crazier!! I don’t remember everything that happened because Eve surprised me so bad and I started to feel really embarrassed and ended up crying. Eventually Professor Vikander came down and everything was still crazy but Talula gave me a calming drought bc the one in my backpack got shattered. Then Professor Vikander sent Eve and I to the Hospital Wing. I apologised to her there and she told me I had nothing to be sorry for and…. That Lex… Lex Ashworth had said something very cruel. He’d been talking to Aloy but he called her a fire flinging freak and… I mean… sure, he was mad at Aloy but… if that’s what Lex thinks of her… what about Talula? Or me? My family? I come from a line of fire flinging freaks even if I’ve never managed it myself…

After that, I kind of laid low for a while, avoiding everyone. Especially since… after that, my eye got even worse. I don’t know why but instead of two pupils, now there’s three. Am I doomed to just keep getting more and more? Will my other eye become freaky next? I don’t know what to do about it but I can’t keep ignoring it so I’ve been trying to do research on curses and what kind might have caused this. I plan on speaking to Professor Macauley about it as soon as possible and if he doesn’t have answers I’ll go to Professor Blightly and then O'Keeffe if she doesn’t. I have to figure this out and how to go back to normal or at least how to stop it.

Then it was announced there was going to be a fashion show. I don’t know anything about fashion and I don’t really care but Gwyn, my mentor, was running the meeting so I decided to go to support her. Somehow I ended up being chosen to represent our house in the casual category. I ended up wearing my red jumper dress with a white t-shirt, a red flower crown of flowers I don’t know what they’re called but they remind me of the Christmas flowers, red flags, my red backpack, and of course, my violin case. I also put stars on my face, because I like decorating myself. The fashion show was really scary honestly but Talula put some lipgloss on me and everyone was really supportive. It was scary walking on stage on front of everyone and I was afraid I’d like or fall off stage but I did it! And I never want to do it again! I’d watch it again though!

Talula also ran a club called Spark Club this month. Spark Club is where you can meet new friends or dates. I only wanted friends so I put that when I signed up. Somehow Talula pairs you with three people, I don’t know how, and you spend a few minutes talking and getting to know each other with the talk starter Tal gives you. My first pair was Bailey but I think he was late getting there so Margo and her match, Dana, who is a first year in our house talked to me for a little bit. Margo said I could be a model because of how tall I am but I definitely don’t want that. Eventually Bailey showed up and we talked about getting into trouble a little bit. My next pair was named Gage but he never showed up so I sat around and watched everyone else for a bit. Lastly, I was paired with Eve! Talula said we were too cute not to pair up and I told Eve it was destiny! She was talking to an older student named Romi Clementine. Romi is a fourth year I think and she’s really pretty, like a doll. She was even dressed like a doll in this frilly red dress. She said she liked charms and Homemaking Magic and that the Spark Club was a little too noisy for her which I totally get.

Oh, Eve also gave me a book at Spark Club. It’s called Coraline and she said she wanted us to choose characters from the book for our Halloween costumes instead. I’m going to start reading it tonight, just as soon as I finish writing in you. She said it was one of her favourite books and I think it’s nice to see what your friends like if you want to get close to them. She also said she’d like it if we all started a book club. So I’m going to read some of this and then maybe we can sit around and have a talk about it!

Oh! The Triwizard Tournament is closing in, I don’t remember if I told you but Hogwarts is hosting it this year. Saturday the other schools arrived. It was amazing. The Beauxbatons students are so elegant and graceful! They arrived in a blue flying carriage pulled by winged horses that were all golden! When their Headmistress stepped out she looked like an ice princess with all these feathers on her dress. Then the students came out with all this beautiful water magic and there were golden sparks and it was all amazing. The Durmstrang students were intimidating! It’s crazy to me to think that if Grandmother Banon had remained in Bulgaria, I could have been a Durmstrang student too. I couldn’t imagine that! They’re so serious and like… They arrived in a ship that came out of the lake, bursting through the ice alongside all these patronuses! The students came marching off the ship with these torches held over their heads and then the flames leapt from their torches and made this arc and the Deputy Headmistress came marching off. I don’t think anyone’s seen the Headmaster yet, apparently he wasn’t feeling well. 

There was also a HUGE feast where Headmistress O’Keeffe explained all the rules of the tournament, apparently you can only participate if you’re 17. Then she revealed the Goblet of Fire! It’s got these blue flames and it was super cool to watch. There’s also these blue flames around the Goblet which apparently keeps anyone under 17 from trying to put their name in. I wonder who will be chosen from each school… I can’t imagine being chosen for Hogwarts… I hope though… I hope one day I can be in the Triwizard Tournament. Could you imagine? Aures Truegarden, Triwizard Tournament Champion. I’ve heard some students talk about trying to sneak their names into the Goblet but I’m not ready and I know that. I’m still just a kid. But one day!

That’s almost everything, I think. The only thing left is to tell you I’ve found a new project! I’m going to try to learn a musical piece called The Devil’s Trill. It’s by Tartini. I was reading a music book and I found a story about it and really wanted to learn it after that. This composer, Giuseppe Tartini was having a hard time making money as a violinist. He decided he wanted to die- that’s sad isn’t it?- but before he did, he wanted the chance to dream for one last night. That night he dreamed of the devil! Or is it, a devil? Anyways, he told his friend,some French astronomer that he dreamed the devil came and asked him to be his teacher. At the end of their lesson, Tartini gave the devil his violin and asked him to play, to see how good the Devil was. The devil played so amazingly that it took Tartini’s breath away. How I wish I could play that well. Anyways, Tartini woke up with a jolly and jumped out of bed, immediately writing down the sonata and trying to catch what he’d heard in his dream. The Sonata became super successful! Everyone said that you could hear bells and chimes during the performance and that it felt like the room was getting smaller and smaller but Tartini said it was nowhere near as perfect as what he heard in his dream. I want to learn to play The Devil’s Trill and make people feel something. Anyways, I should start this book but… goodnight diary! Thanks for always listening!</p>

#roleplay #harry potter roleplay #second life roleplay #veela #Gryffindor #mischief managed #second life

[aliceslantern]

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 1

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Kairi woke up slowly. “Anything?” she asked, before her eyes had even focused.

Ienzo sighed. “I’m afraid not.” He began detaching her from the monitors.

Her own sigh was heavy, derelict. She sat up, rolling her shoulders, stretching. They woke her every five days--to be unconscious for so long was inhumane, good neither for her body or mind. Not good for them either, to work so constantly, but Ienzo cared less about this.

“It isn’t easy, to trace a heart,” he added. “We’re all working as hard as we can--but it’s beyond nebulous, beyond, even, theory.”

“I know,” she said. She smoothed her short hair. “I just… I thought I would feel him. I… don’t.” She forced a smile.

“I sincerely wish I had better news,” he said. More than a little harrowing, to see her moroseness.

“I know you’re doing your best,” she said. She stood, a bit shakily. She nodded once. “I’m going to go clean up. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Ienzo watched her leave, feeling a bit dazed. He set down his tablet, smoothed the chair where she slept. His eyes ached.

“...You woke her on your own?” Even asked. He’d gone out for some books. “I’d hoped to check her vitals.”

“She’s stable. Like she always is. I was trained in first aid, you know.”

Even rolled his eyes. “Did she ask again?”

“She always does.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how much longer we can reasonably pursue this. There--continues to be nothing. ” A thin, needy pain bloomed between his eyes; he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“...You look like you should be the one sleeping.”

“You’re likely right. There were some things I’d hoped to check on. I’d best do so before--”

Even frowned. “Her break in sleep functions as a break for us, too. You need rest to do good work.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” he remarked. “When was the last time you slept, Even?”

He scowled. “Go on, then, boy.”

Ienzo did feel more than a little shaky. Human physicality was so brutal, so constantly needy, all the time; his body felt very nearly alien. He made his way back towards his own bedroom. The ache in his head wasn’t getting any better.

“Freed you at last, huh, Zo?”

He almost groaned. It was much harder to squirrel himself away now, that was for sure. “...I see your day is done early as well.” This was certainly a variable he had not planned for, living here once more.

Demyx shrugged. “No more deliveries. I could just sit there, but why?”

After Xehanort’s death, the other boy had nowhere to go and nothing to do; evidently he’d found some satisfaction out of bringing Ienzo the vessels, as he now worked for Scrooge McDuck as a courier. It kept him mostly out of Ienzo’s hair, which was good. Convincing him to become human again had been… exhausting, but at least now there was assuredly no more bits of Xehanort. “...I see.” Small talk had never been his forte, and given his tiredness was the last thing he wanted to subject himself to.

Demyx stared at him. “All good over there?”

His interest in Ienzo’s work was disorienting. “The usual, I suppose.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “That sucks.”

Ienzo shrugged. He was right, which was the irritating thing.

“I guess she’s up and about, then? I should say hey.”

“If you like. She might like some company.”

Demyx didn’t notice the sarcasm; or else didn’t comment on it. “Awesome. See you around, Zo.”

Ienzo just shook his head. “Zo” was a vast improvement over “Zexy”, but he still did not care for Demyx’s nicknames. It had taken the boy long enough to stop calling him Zexion.

(If he were being honest, he still made the same mistake, especially writing his own reports--his fingers would hover over that Z key for longer than they should.)

He went into his bedroom. It wasn’t a large space, not helped by the clutter--books, more for research than for enjoyment, were piled around his desk. He should at the very least take the ones he no longer needed back to the library, but the library was still such a disaster. Relics of his childhood were here and there; the tapestry of constellations, storybooks gathering dust on the overpacked cherry bookshelf, a few moldering stuffed animals sitting in a box. He had no idea what to do with these things. All he knew was that looking at them made him feel vaguely ill. He shed his labcoat, loosened the ascot at his throat. He perched on the mattress and ran his fingers over the stitching of the old quilt, trying to orient himself, to prepare himself for the labor of sleep. Ienzo could feel how badly he needed it, much more acutely than he ever did as Zexion. But his mind was spinning--with disappointment, with the sickness of looking at his old things, with memories that wanted to come, with these heavy feelings.

Perhaps a bath might help? A bath and a trashy novel?

It was still… odd, to see himself in mirrors. Generally he tried to avoid it, but it was not always possible. He shuddered a little as his fingers brushed the scar around his throat. Most unbecoming. Religious application of scar cream didn’t improve things, but at least the color was no longer such a vivid violet.

He settled into the warm water. On a physiological level it was soothing, but the second he started to relax the thoughts invaded--wasn’t this so self-indulgent? He should be downstairs, right now, analyzing the data they’d gathered from this week of Kairi’s sleep. At the very least logging things, drafting a report. Reconnecting with Ansem and the others, to see what they’d found.

His breath, in the tiled space, seemed loud.

Dealing with them should not be difficult. But all he could think when he saw them was they told me you’d gone mad. He grimaced. This wasn’t helping. Maybe some chamomile?

(A stiff drink? Or a sedative?)

He bathed, because he was already here. His skin was weirdly raw, oddly sensitive to everything. It had been when he was a child, but he figured he’d have outgrown such issues. It felt like everything was scraping along his nerves. He put on a soft sweater, slacks (his body would not physically allow him to wear denim. It was extremely irritating). Tried to fix his hair, which continued to grow directly into his eyes despite best efforts. He’d considered cutting it, letting it all go, but likely that would be a shock to himself as well.

Would eating help? He was feeling dizzy. Blood sugar, maybe? Hard to tell. Just tell me what you want , he thought, towards his body. Enough of this vague aching.  

He heated some soup Aeleus had made, forced it all down. Nope, that didn’t help. Was he legitimately ill? He could ask Even, who was indeed a medical doctor as well as a researcher, but frankly he’d rather just deal with it on his own.

“Hello, Ienzo.”

He jumped a little, despite himself. “Oh… hello, Master.”

“I noticed Kairi was awake.”

“...We were rapidly getting nowhere. I figured no reason to keep her asleep if we were getting nothing done. She had expressed interest in doing some visiting. She should. It’s summer, and she’s sixteen. Might as well enjoy it.” He was rambling.

“Why shouldn’t you?”

Ienzo scoffed. “More pressing things on my plate than socializing. ” He could hardly stand talking to Demyx, much less anyone else.

“These breaks are for us, too.”

“...Even said the same thing.”

Ienzo did get some pleasure from the spark of anger that entered his eyes at the name. “You should at the very least get some sunlight. When was the last time you left this castle?”

He thought about it. “We did need groceries a few days ago.”

“Other than that.”

Ienzo was drawing a blank. He bristled a little. “What of you?”

Ansem chuckled. “...Quite. I believe we’ve all been… engrossed.”

“I wish I felt like I were getting somewhere. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes every time she wakes up… is taxing.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to help, to be of use, but we…” Ienzo trailed off uselessly.

“Might I sit with you?”

“...If you like.”

Ansem joined him at the small oak table. It was still so odd, to talk to him after such a long period of separation. That Ansem forgave him was staggering. “How are you faring?”

“...A loaded question.”

He smiled. “I do hope you don’t forget you’re also a young person.”

“Oh, I never was.” He shrugged. “Old soul. So I’ve been told.”

“...You deserve to enjoy your life too.”

Ienzo snorted.

“Why is it you react this way?”

“After all the suffering I’ve wrought?” He raised an eyebrow. “The least I can do is try to help Sora, and the committee.”

“No need for you to also suffer.”

He laughed a little. “I’m not suffering.”

Ansem gave him a look that suggested he was full of it. “You struggle, Ienzo. I can just tell.”

He pursed his lips. “You needn’t concern yourself with me. I’m sure you have other things to worry about.”

“I’m not allowed to worry about you?”

“Well you needn’t waste your energy.”

Ansem blinked. “I’m aware we’ve… lost time we’ll never get back,” he said slowly. “But I do wish to repair our relationship, such as it is.”

More baffling yet. “Why?”

“Why?” He repeated. “Ienzo, you’re my son.”

“I was .”

“...A bond that only ended through no machinations of your own.” He reached over to take Ienzo’s hand; he flinched, the touch unexpected and unanticipated.

“How can you even bear to look at me?”

“You asked for none of this.”

Ienzo could feel something rising within him, heat building behind his already aching eyes. He regretted eating; it felt as though it may come up. “Didn’t I? I asked to do those experiments--”

“--Because Xehanort manipulated you into thinking it was your idea.” Ansem’s rust-colored eyes bore into his. “Because you were a child and wanted to please those around you.”

“What about everything that happened after?” The blood was hot in his face, the toxic slurry of emotion making him nauseous. “When I was older? When I should have known better?”

“You grew up with no heart. No conscience, no bonds with others. How were you to--”

“My actions killed people.” He stood up. “I am no innocent victim, Master. Who do you think was the Organization’s tactician?”

Ansem seemed to not know what to say.

“All those puzzles you taught me to love. Do you think I wouldn’t use that? People were pieces to me. Pawns. How am I any better than Xehanort?” He took a breath; the air was hot. “I need to take my leave.”

“Ienzo--”

He was already moving. He felt it coming at him like a wave, sticky, itchy and impossible to reckon with. Guilt like rivers, like oceans, making his heart race and his palms sweat. He couldn’t be of use if he fell apart. He couldn’t fall apart. Couldn’t. Get it together. He repeated it, almost like a mantra. Get it together.

“...Zo?”

Ienzo almost swore out loud. The last person he wanted to see. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“You look--”

Ienzo narrowed his eyes, daring him to say something.

“...Tired,” Demyx settled on.

“Yes, I am very tired,” he said. “I should like to get some rest. If it’s all the same.”

“I mean, sure, but…” He bit his lip. “Is there… anything I can do? For you?”

His eyebrows shot up.

“You just seem kinda overwhelmed and I--”

“Thank you, Demyx, but I do not need your help.” He scowled.

“Oh… okay.” Demyx bit his lip. “Well… get some sleep.” He tried to inject some cheer into his voice, but it fell flat.

"...I shall certainly try." His headache was only worsening. He limped back towards his bedroom and lay down, pulling the covers around himself. He tried to breathe, slowly, evenly, to lower his heart rate. It wasn't quite dark, but he needed to at the very least try to sleep, despite guilt, despite everything.

Ienzo counted his breath. He told himself stories, recalling novels from memory. Finally, finally… he drifted into an uncertain sleep.

There was a reason Ienzo avoided rest.

The memories, even in unconsciousness, constantly invaded. Tonight's choice? His very own death, the sensation of the replica's glove closing around his windpipe, darkness holding Zexion firm, unable to slink away or fight. Sharpness cutting into his throat, feeling draining out of his body--

Ienzo jolted up, breathing hard. The panic was familiar at this point, but no less painful. He tried to push through it, counting all the items in the room, but his hand had snapped up to his scar.

It's no less than what I deserve.

He was feeling nauseous now. He sat up slowly, checked the alarm clock at his bedside--he'd only managed a few hours, but now it was dark out. There was heat in his eyes.

Cry if you must, and get it over with.

Ienzo rocked slowly, in an attempt to self-soothe. He felt the dampness on his face, humiliation breaking over him in a wave. It was like purging; emptying the tears from his body. At least, he tried to think of it that way.

Eyes raw,  he lay back down, hoping that was enough, but it wasn't. It was clear he would get no peace tonight. He exhaled heavily, got up, put his lab coat back on, and headed back downstairs.

At least, if it were this late, he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone other than himself. He sat in front of that computer screen for a long time, trying to put the pieces together.

#retribution #ienzo #demyx #ansem the wise #zemyx #even (kingdom hearts) #kairi #remind spoilers

[mercurysnitch]

You Make My Dreams Come True (One Magnificent Year)

Summary: The year Joe and Reader got married turned out to be a very big one for their family.

A/N: It’s finally here! The “bonus chapter” is finally done, and it only took three and a half months 😆 (life got in the way for a while there, it wasn’t supposed to take quite this long). I am so so pleased to finally be sharing it with you (I hope it lives up to all the anticipation). Now that you can see how long this is you’ll understand why I thought including these events would have dragged out the main story too much 🤣. For reference, this starts soon after the climax of part 6 (Reader and Joe getting engaged) and goes on from there.

Some disclaimers: I should have mentioned in Part 6 that I’ve never been to the USA so all parts in New York are based on what I’ve picked up from watching many many movies and TV shows set there. Sorry if anything’s horribly inaccurate, I tried to be at least somewhat realistic. This story features an overseas wedding being planned in only three months, which seemed feasible to me, but I’ve never planned a wedding so I might have been a bit optimistic there. I’ve never been pregnant or had children so all of that stuff is based on research. I think it’s mostly realistic, but some of it might not be completely accurate for twins/preemies, so sorry in advance. Also I think I might have outed myself as an old school music fan with some of the songs mentioned in here.

Because this is the story of a single year, it’s broken into months with little timeskips between sections. The months are all different lengths, so hopefully it’s not too choppy. I feel like it rambles a bit towards the end, but I think overall it works.

As always, please forgive any typos I may have missed.

Italics indicate reader’s inner thoughts.

Warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, children, babies, non-graphic birth, premature birth, some angst, allusions to sex, mild illness

Word count: 20.6k (grab a cup of tea and settle in, it’s a long one)

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New Year's Eve in New York City. Just like last year, and yet at the same time, so very different. This year, Joe’s traditional New Year’s Eve party was going to be a celebration of so much more. Lucy and Rami insisted on coming to celebrate your engagement as much as the new year. Joe had of course sent an announcement to the ‘band’ group chat almost the moment you got home, and you’d spent the next three days in a whirlwind of calls, texts and video chats. Joe wanted to post something on Instagram almost immediately, but you persuaded him to hold off until you could tell his extended family in person at Christmas. He was annoyed until he saw their reactions to your announcement. Needless to say, it went down very well.

And then he finally made his Instagram post on Boxing Day, which lifted his mood enormously. He chose a sweet selfie he’d taken of the two of you hugging Tallulah, whose face was hidden, with the hand bearing your ring held close to the camera. He captioned it ‘Well we had a great Christmas celebrating this… Two weeks ago she said yes. Still can’t believe I get these two for the rest of my life now.’ The reaction was practically immediate and overwhelmingly positive. Even Brian left a comment: ‘Congratulations to a lovely couple! Wishing you endless happiness. Bri.’ You couldn’t help smiling at all the positivity. “They’re all so happy for us, Joe” you commented. He was confused. “Well, yeah, it’s happy news, right?” “It is,” you agreed, “but I thought people might be put off by the whole stepkid thing.” “Most people actually think it’s really sweet” Joe assured you.

All in all, you were a very happy family when New Year’s Eve rolled around. Joe’s various friends were keen to celebrate with you, Tallulah was eagerly counting down the last few days before Roger’s arrival, and you felt a general sense that all was right with the world. Ben’s unexpected arrival at the party was a nice treat too. Even Tallulah was pleased to see one of her favourite people in the world. Sitting with Joe after your midnight kiss, you felt incredibly content. “This year’s going to be a good one, isn’t it?” You mused. “Definitely” Joe agreed, kissing you gently. “It’s going to be great.”

January

You weren’t expecting to get into wedding planning after being engaged for less than three weeks, but Joe was keen to set a date as soon as possible. “I’m an actor, I need to know when I’m not going to be available” he explained one night, when you questioned his urgency to make plans. There was just one decision you needed to make before making any firm plans: would you have the wedding in New York or back home in the UK? You fretted for nearly a week after Joe first raised the question, not wanting to inconvenience any of your potential guests. "Babe, wherever we have the wedding someone's going to have to travel to get to it" Joe reminded you, after you told him about your severe indecision on the matter. "We might as well just pick the location we want, and leave it to the guests to decide if it’s too far for them." You considered this for a moment. "I suppose you're right" you agreed finally. "I usually am" Joe quipped. "Seriously though, where do you actually want to do it?" "I think… I'd rather get married in Britain" you replied, hesitantly. Joe smiled. "Britain it is then."

He paused. "Actually I was kinda hoping you'd say that, I'd love for Roger and Brian to be there." "Why?" you asked, surprised. "Well, we wouldn't be here without them. Especially Roger" Joe explained. "Don't you think it'd be a little strange for Roger to be there?" you questioned. "He is sort of my ex, you know." "He's also the one who introduced us" Joe pointed out. "Still a bit weird, but I suppose you're right" you conceded. Why is my life so bloody weird? It'd be nice for Roger to be there, spend some time with Loolah, see my family… oh God. You must have groaned out loud, because Joe suddenly looked concerned. "You ok babe?" he asked. "Yeah, I just realised that if Roger comes to our wedding he'll have to meet my parents" you explained. "Is… is that a problem?" Joe was confused. "Well, considering my father is under the impression he got me pregnant and then basically abandoned me to raise the child alone for five years, let's just say Roger's not exactly my dad's favourite person" you clarified. "I'm sure they'll be fine" Joe reassured you, "Roger's, like, ridiculously charming and friendly when he wants to be." "I know" you replied gently. "So, you still want to get married in England?" Joe asked jokingly. You smiled. "Yes." "Well then," he replied, smiling contentedly, "looks like we've got a location, so let's set a date."

Setting a date, however, proved to be easier said than done. You quickly realised that getting married in England would be an excellent excuse for a holiday, so you decided to make it a two-week trip, with the wedding in the middle followed by a week's honeymoon, during which Tallulah could spend some time with her dad. This meant you needed to find a convenient time of year for you and Joe to have a holiday, that would also be ok for Roger. And then you'd need a venue that was available at the right time.

Finding a venue in England, while more or less stuck in New York was something of a challenge. Google was of course immensely helpful, but it soon became clear you would need someone on the ground there too. You were wondering who to ask when you realised most of your bridal party still lived in the UK. Destiny was your maid of honour, and she was more than happy to help. "Anything you need, lovie, just give me a call" she assured you. You soon found yourself asking her to look at a venue for you, an old stately home in a country village barely an hour outside London.

The house looked beautiful on the website, and best of all, you, Joe, Tallulah and some of your guests would be able to stay there ahead of the ceremony. Destiny went to look at it as soon as she could find the time, and her report was very positive. “It’s gorgeous” she gushed to you down the phone. “You’d love it. The grounds are lovely too, I think Loolah’d have fun exploring them.” When Joe saw the photos Destiny sent you he agreed it looked practically perfect for your wedding. All that was left was to find a date the venue would be available.

You had a stroke of luck on the date front a few days after you and Joe put yourselves on the waiting list for a booking. A sudden cancellation had left the stately home with a week free in April, just after Easter. The timing couldn’t be better. “Work’ll be quiet, it’ll be a good time for me to have off” you explained to Joe. “And it’d overlap with Loolah’s school holidays too.” Joe was thoughtful for a moment. “I think I’m pretty free in April, actually” he said eventually. “So you wanna take the booking?” “Yeah, let’s do it” he enthused. A couple of days and several emails later the venue. “We’re getting married in April” you marvelled to Joe, after receiving the final confirmation. “Yeah” he replied contentedly. “Three months to plan a whole wedding. Are we nuts?” You really hoped not.

February

February brought cold season to your little family. First Tallulah came home with a sore throat and a fever which kept her away from school for three days, during which time Joe was luckily free to stay home with her. Then you caught her cold, though you managed to escape the worst of it, developing nothing worse than a sniffle. Finally, a week later you woke to find Joe pale and feverish beside you. He didn't wake until you were getting dressed for work. "Darling, are you alright?" you asked him, concerned. "No," he groaned. "My head hurts, my throat is killing me and I've got chills, I think." "Sounds like you've caught our cold then" you commented. "Can you stay home with me babe? Please?" Joe begged. You smiled sadly. "You know I can't, dear. Besides, you have a cold, you're not dying. You’re a grownup, you can survive eight hours on your own." "But baaabe!" he protested. "You sound like Loolah, you know” you grumbled, smiling fondly at Joe despite your exasperation. "But I'll come home as early as I can." "Thanks babe" he mumbled, peering blearily up at you from his spot under the covers. You returned to your morning routine, and Joe was asleep again within minutes.

Joe stayed home for a week. He never got any worse than Tallulah had, but sometimes it seemed that way because he was such a drama queen when he was sick. After two nights of listening to him sniff and cough miserably next to you, you banished yourself to the couch in the hope of finally getting some sleep. It barely worked, and you made sure to tell Joe the next day. "That couch is terrible! If only we had an extra bedroom…" "What, don't you like my apartment?" he grumped. "No, I do, Joe," you reassured him, "it's just… it feels so small sometimes. Like we're all on top of each other all the time, you know?" Joe looked thoughtful. "I actually saw a really nice house for sale the other day. Not too big, little bit of yard at the back… don't know if we can afford it though" he told you. "Well, it can't hurt to take a look" you grinned. Joe smiled back. "Let's go then."

The house turned out to be a nice little townhouse, with four bedrooms, but surprisingly right in your price range. Best of all, it was still on the market, but not for long. One very tense week later it was yours. There was just one small catch. "So, we close on the house in a month" Joe told you, following a phonecall from the real estate agent. "Which means we can't move in until April." "We're getting married in April though, we're going to be super busy and then away for a fortnight" you pointed out. "Yeah, the timing's not the best, is it?" Joe laughed. "I suppose we could move the week before we go…" you suggested. "Yeah, we- oh no, wait, we can't, I'm going to Vegas for my bachelor party that week" Joe told you. "And that means we can't move because…?" you asked. "I'm not leaving you to deal with moving by yourself" Joe replied stoutly. You looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "As much as I want to go all 'independent woman' on you, I actually think you're right. I'll have enough to do that week as it is." "So we'll move after the wedding?" Joe suggested. "Yeah. As soon as we can." Gee, we’re doing a lot this year.

March

Most of your free time in March was taken up with planning of one sort or another. When you weren’t sorting out last minute wedding details, you were busy attempting to organise the move into your new house. On top of finding a removal company you were planning to have some of your stored furniture shipped from England to fill the extra space. But you weren’t convinced it would be enough. “Why did we buy a four-bedroom house?” you questioned Joe, after yet another attempt to work out what you would still need once your things arrived. “We only needed two, and now we’ve got so many rooms and not enough furniture…” “Well I thought we might want to fill those extra bedrooms soon…” Joe said suggestively. “What do you mean, Joe?” you asked, confused. “I mean,” Joe sighed, exasperated at your obliviousness, “I hoped we could try to grow our family?” You thought you knew what he was getting at now, but you wanted to check. “D’you mean… try to have a baby?” “Yes” Joe replied, smiling. His face fell slightly at the sight of your expression. “Do you not want to? Cause we don’t have to, I just thought…hoped-” “Of course I want to have a baby with you Joe,” you reassured him, “just… can we maybe wait til after the wedding? We’ve got enough going on right now as it is.” Joe nodded in agreement. “You know, the honeymoon is after the wedding…” he pointed out suggestively. “It is.” “So, extra fun honeymoon then?” Joe suggested. “Sounds like a plan” you agreed. At that Joe kissed you much more lustily than you were expecting. Should be a very enjoyable honeymoon if he’s going to be like that.  

As the weeks rolled by your focus increasingly shifted to the various parts of the wedding you and Joe still needed to plan. Of course, one of the most important components, at least to you and Joe, turned out to be the first dance. The first challenge was agreeing on the music. You both thought a Queen song seemed appropriate, but which one? "Love Of My Life?" Joe suggested. You looked at him incredulously. "What, it's a classic!" he insisted. "You do realise it's not actually a love song, right?" you asked. He was confused. "What?" "'Love of my life, don't leave me'?" you quoted. "It's a break-up song, Joe. I'm not doing the first dance to a break-up song!" Joe threw his hands up in surrender. "Ok, fine. Do you have any ideas?" You thought about it for a moment. "Um… Queen love songs. They didn't actually write all that many, did they?" Joe looked thoughtful. "Not straightforward happy ones, no" he agreed.

Suddenly his face was alight with inspiration. "We could do it to '39!" he suggested. "I know we both like that song." You were hesitant. "Um, I do like that song, but…" "But what?" He asked indignantly. "That song… it's kind of about me and Roger. Partly at least." you told him. "I just think it would be weird to have that for our first dance." Joe was very confused. "I thought Brian wrote '39?" "He did" you confirmed. "Roger told him about… us… once when they were both drunk, and Brian thinks that might have inspired the chorus. And the whole 'year of 39' bit." Your fiance looked at you blankly. "Roger and I were living 39 years apart at that point" you explained. "Oh." Joe sighed. "I guess that song would be kind of weird then" he conceded. “Actually, maybe a Queen song for the first dance was a bad idea” he pondered.  “Yeah” you agreed. “Maybe we should just stick with one of the classics.” “The classics?” Joe questioned. “Yeah, you know, Frank Sinatra or At Last or something.” “Or ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’?” Joe suggested. “Slow dance and fast bits, we could have some fun with it.” “That’s perfect!” You agreed. So much for Queen for the first dance.

April

The arrival of April Fool’s Day signalled your wedding day was almost upon you. Everything important was booked or ordered, which meant you were now faced with sorting out all the little things you’d put off organising initially, knowing they could be dealt with at the last minute. Number one on the list was sorting out who would be looking after Tallulah when she wasn’t fulfilling her flower girl duties. “Isn’t Roger looking after her after the ceremony’s over?” Joe asked, when you tried to explain your dilemma. “He’s going to be at the reception, Joe” you pointed out. “Along with basically my whole family. And I can’t ask Destiny because she’s maid of honour, and Carla’s her date, so she’ll be there too.” Suddenly Joe understood. “Well I guess she could just come to the reception. Roger could keep an eye on her there. And your parents.” “I suppose…” you sighed. “Actually, Lucy and the other bridesmaids could probably look after her during the day, until Roger can take over at the reception. But then we’re going away at the end, and what if she wants to leave early?” “So what if she does? Roger can take her to his room, right?” Joe reassured you. “You’re right,” you agreed, “he’s her dad, he can deal with it.”

Your other major concern was the potential for the combination of your very ordinary family and several famous people to end very badly. “They were fine meeting me, they’ll be fine at the wedding too” Joe tried to reassure you. “You’re just one person though,” you pointed out, “they’re going to have several people to embarrass themselves in front of this time.” Joe was still unconcerned. “I’m sure they won’t be that bad, babe” “You don’t know my Auntie Marie… ah shit” you trailed off, hit with a sudden realisation. “What about her?” “She’s a mad Eastenders fan, has been for years. Got my cousins into it too, and Steph… Peter Beale was always her favourite” you explained. “I think she might still have a bit of a celebrity crush on Ben.” Joe nearly laughed. “You know he won’t be that bothered” he reassured you. “Even if she spends the whole day practically hanging off him?” “Not if she’s cute” Joe quipped. He rapidly backpedalled at the sight of your expression. “She won’t be able to stick to him all day, he’ll be busy being best man for some of it.” “Thank god for that” you quipped. In the end Joe managed to reassure you Ben was perfectly capable of handling himself around overexcited fans. Even so, you still resolved to ask your mum to remind a few of your relatives to behave themselves before the wedding.

You felt as though you’d hardly blinked before Tallulah’s Easter holidays had arrived, and the three of you were on a plane to London. The plan was to spend a few days there catching up with friends and sorting out the final last-minute details before heading to the wedding venue on Thursday. You had a big dinner party for all your wedding guests planned for Friday night, ahead of the main event on Saturday. On Sunday you were off to Italy with Joe to unwind for a few days before you had to go home. Tallulah was going to spend that time with Roger, and she was very excited.

You tried to get some sleep on the plane, but it was difficult to relax with so many last-minute worries buzzing through your mind. You kept dozing off only to wake up in a panic about something. “The bridesmaids! What if their dresses look bad with mine?” “Babe, it’ll be fine. Lucy picked them, and she’s an expert” Joe soothed drowsily. Lucy had become one of your closest friends since you’d started seeing Joe. She’d adopted you more or less instantly, along with the rest of the Bo Rhap crew, and been your guide in the strange new world in which you’d found yourself as an actor’s girlfriend. But she was also an extremely supportive friend while you wrestled with the realities of a long-distance relationship. She empathised deeply with your struggles, being in a very similar situation with Rami, and had all sorts of advice on how to deal with them. She continued to sympathise as you adjusted to life in a new city, having had similar experiences when moving around for different projects. 

Including Lucy in your bridal party was therefore a no-brainer in your view. Her experience with fashion had proved very useful when you’d enlisted her to help you select bridesmaids’ dresses. The only small issue was that you had never seen the dresses in person, as your entire bridal party lived in the UK. As well as Lucy, and of course Destiny, there was your sister Eliza and Annabelle, an old uni friend who was one of the few people who’d actually stuck around after Tallulah was born. Quite a lot of your friends had made all the right noises while you were pregnant, only to disappear when confronted with the reality of your new situation. In any case, you were now very much looking forward to seeing all your bridesmaids again.

Despite your restlessness the flight passed quickly enough, and before you knew it you were settling into your temporary holiday flat in central London. Your parents insisted on coming to meet you as soon as possible, having not seen you in months, so most of the afternoon was spent lounging around the flat and catching up with them. Your sister had been keeping your mum in the loop about the wedding preparations, so she was full of useful last-minute advice and reassurance. “I’ve seen your sister’s dress, I’m sure all the bridesmaids will look wonderful” she told you, after you’d voiced to her your concerns about the dresses you hadn’t seen in person. “They’ll work beautifully with your dress too, I’m sure.” You weren’t entirely soothed, but you didn’t have the energy to argue by then.

Your worries were proved unfounded at the final fitting the next day. Lucy’s taste was clearly excellent, and everyone looked absolutely beautiful in their light aquamarine gowns. You spent a very enjoyable day getting fitted and hanging out with your bridesmaids, who got on well despite barely knowing each other. Well, they do all get on with me, they must have something in common. Tallulah had fun too, sitting in the fancy bridal shop with some of her favourite adults, and then getting to wear a very pretty dress. “You look so pretty, lovie!” Lucy gushed, when she finally got to see Tallulah in her flowergirl outfit. “Of course she looks pretty Luce,” you smiled, “you chose the dress.” All in all it was a productive day, and you felt much calmer about your imminent wedding at the end of it. 

The days passed in a whirlwind of lunches, coffee dates, and frantic final preparations. You even squeezed in a surprise hen night with your bridal party. But then, quick as a flash, Thursday had arrived and you found yourself on the road to the stately home where the wedding was being held. Joe had insisted on driving, but he wasn’t coping very well with having to drive on the opposite side of the road. “God, this feels so wrong even though I know it’s not.” “Just concentrate” you urged him. “And I’m driving next time, it’ll be a lot less stressful.” Fortunately you made it to the wedding venue without incident, despite a couple of near-misses.

Thursday night was spent having dinner with the entire bridal party, who had never been together before. They would all be staying in the actual stately home with you and Joe for the duration. Joe had picked Ben as his best man, after much agonising. Rami and Gwilym were of course groomsmen too, alongside Joe’s brother. To your immense relief everyone got on well without much effort, and the evening passed surprisingly quickly. You went to bed with the feeling that the countdown was now on, and you were very excited. 

Most of Friday was spent preparing the venue for the events of the next day, setting up a location in the grpunds for the ceremony and arranging flowers and decorations. The evening, though, was set aside for a relaxed pre-wedding party, to give the guests an opportunity to meet each other and see you and Joe before you were swept up in the wedding tomorrow. The guests themselves arrived in dribs and drabs as the day went on. The bridal party were already there, of course, and their various partners had all arrived by lunchtime. Your parents appeared in the early afternoon, and Joe’s mum followed soon after. The day was full of enjoyable reunions, and the night promised even more. 

The party started in the early evening with light finger food and cocktails. There was no formal sit-down meal, because people were coming from all over and would be arriving at various times throughout the night. You and Joe tried to remain in a central position so you could easily greet people as they arrived. Later in the night there were a couple of quick speeches from Joe and Ben, welcoming everyone to your wedding. After the speeches you and Joe took the opportunity to mingle with some of the late arrivals. Among them was Brian, who swept over to introduce you to Anita, who was just as warm and lovely as he was. "I told her the truth about you. And Tallulah. Hope you don't mind" he told you in an undertone. You smiled reassuringly. "Of course not.” Not long after he trotted off to catch up with the rest of the Bo Rhap contingent, currently hanging out in a quiet corner, your parents came up to you, bringing Tallulah with them. "She was asking for you" your mother explained. At almost the same moment Roger came over with Sarina to say hello. Oh lord, here we go.

"Hello, love! Good to see you back on home soil" Roger greeted you, cheerful as ever. "Hi Roger. Sarina, lovely to see you again." Your mother leaned over while Joe greeted them both. "Wait, how do you know him?" she asked. Before you could reply Roger was looking at you curiously. "Roger, these are my parents" you explained, in response to his unspoken question. "Roger Taylor. How do you do?" He smiled cheerfully as he reached over to shake their hands. Something about his expression seemed to catch your mother’s interest, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "Hold on, are you-?" "Daddy!" Tallulah cried, rushing over to embrace him. "Hello darling" Roger murmured, bobbing down to hug her back. "'Daddy?'" your father repeated incredulously. "Yes," you confirmed, "this is Tallulah's dad. And his wife Sarina" "Wife?" your father echoed. "Yes" Roger replied, straightening up. "You never said he was married" your father muttered darkly. You tensed up at your father’s tone. “He never told me.” "He was- you were married then?" your father spluttered at Roger, clearly angry. He didn't even need to explain what 'then' meant. "Dear, please, don't make a scene" your mother urged quietly. Roger, surprisingly, was unfazed. I suppose it's easy to ignore accusations when you know they're not actually true. "Yes, I was. And yes, I did some things I'm not proud of back then, but becoming Tallulah's father sure as hell isn't one of them" he declared stoutly. Your father seemed to accept this, but was still unwilling to back down. "Still can't believe you had the nerve to show your face here" he said unpleasantly. Joe had been hanging back, unwilling to get involved, but at this he felt he had to intervene. "If you must know," he explained tensely, "I insisted we invite Roger. Your daughter and I wouldn't be here without him, and besides, he's a friend." Your parents gawped at him but said nothing. "I know it's an unusual situation" Joe pressed on, "but we've all managed to get along despite the circumstances, so the least you can do is respect that. And respect Roger too, he's a good man." Your father was evidently flabbergasted at Joe's outburst, to the point that he was apparently unable to form a response. Your mother seized the opportunity to steer him away from you towards some nearby relatives, having apparently decided the conversation had gone far enough. 

"Was that too much?" Joe whispered when they were safely out of earshot. "No," you reassured him, "he just needs some time to cool off. He'll be okay." You were suddenly acutely aware of Roger looking at you with concern, while chatting with Tallulah. "You alright?" you asked casually. He grinned. "Yeah. 'S not the first time I've had to deal with an angry dad. Been a few years though…" There was a thoughtful pause. "What exactly is his problem, by the way?" Roger asked lightly. "He thought I ruined my life when I got pregnant by someone who didn't stick around" you explained. Roger looked downcast. "Oh. I see" he muttered. "You know, it kills me a bit that you had to raise her alone for so long" he said suddenly, quietly enough that no-one would overhear. "I wasn't alone, Rog" you reassured him. He still looked downcast. “I know, but still…” “It wasn’t your fault you weren’t there, I don’t blame you for it, so stop beating yourself up about it” you told him. “I made my choice expecting I’d never see you again, I knew what I was signing up for.” Roger stared at you curiously. “Well, I thought I did, anyway” you clarified. Roger grinned at that, but it disappeared quickly. “D’you ever wish-” he started to ask, but you cut him off. “Things had been different? Of course. I’m pretty happy with how they’ve turned out, though. Thanks to you.” Roger was confused. “Thanks to me?” “Technically, you introduced me to Joe” you pointed out. He grinned broadly at that.

Suddenly you realised Joe had disappeared. Before you could do anything, though, Ben appeared at your shoulder. "Y/N" he said quietly, making you jump. “Ben! What’s up?” The blond looked uncharacteristically serious. “It’s Joe,” he told you, “he’s… he needs you, I think.” “Well where is he?” You asked, suddenly concerned. “Come with me” Ben murmured, leading you away from the party. He took you down a corridor to a quiet storeroom, away from the noise and movement. “What’s he doing in here?” You asked, whispering urgently. “He’s… upset, I guess” Ben replied. “But he’ll be able to explain it better. Just go in, please.” A worrying thought struck you. “We’re the guests of honour, won’t people notice we’ve both gone?” Ben shrugged. “Even if they do they’ll just think you’re shagging or something.” “Ben!” you chided him, scandalised. “Relax, I’ll cover for you if anyone does notice” he reassured you. “Thanks” you muttered, turning away to face the storeroom properly.

You cautiously pushed the door open. “Joe? Are you alright?” Your soon-to-be husband looked up, startled. His eyes were red-rimmed and full of tears. “How did you-?” “Ben told me” you explained, cutting off his question. “But darling, what’s wrong?” You asked him tenderly, sitting down next to him. “After I saw you with your dad, before, it just… it suddenly hit me, really hard.” “What hit you?” You prompted, wrapping your arms around him. “My dad’s not here. I’m getting married and he won’t be there. He should be here, meeting your parents, defending you to your own father like I did, but he’s not” Joe explained sadly. “And I feel like I should be super happy right now, and I am, but I’m really sad too.” “Oh, darling, you’re allowed to feel however you want” you comforted him. You held him quietly for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you were upset?” You asked quietly. “It came on really suddenly, like out of nowhere… and you looked so happy back there, I didn’t want to bring you down” Joe admitted. “Joe, darling, I don’t mind. We’re nearly married, that means it’s my job to help you when you feel like this” you reassured him. “Thanks wifey” he said, looking slightly happier. You kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Any time, babe.” You paused, sitting in silence for a while. “Are you ok now, or do you still need a minute?” You eventually asked, sensing your husband-to-be was starting to feel better. Joe looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll need a little bit longer, I think.” You sat together in silence for a moment. Suddenly Joe turned his head and kissed you. “I love you so much” he murmured as you broke apart. “Love you too” you replied automatically. “You can go now, if you want” Joe announced. “I’ll be out soon.” But as you reached the door he stopped you. “Actually, can you get Ben to come in here?” He asked calmly. “Ben?” You questioned, surprised. “Just…please?” Joe’s expression spoke such volumes you suddenly didn’t need to know any more. “Of course, dear.” You paused just before you left the room. “I’m sending Ben into a private space with you, should I be worried?” you quipped. Joe laughed at that, and you finally relaxed, knowing for sure he would be ok now. 

The rest of the party rolled on without incident, and you went to bed that night with an odd mixture of contentment and nerves bubbling in your head. The next morning you woke relaxed and refreshed, and most unusually, alone. Joe was rather fond of certain wedding traditions, and had insisted on sharing Ben’s room for the night. You thought it was probably for the best, you’d have to get ready separately anyway. Lucy had suggested Tallulah have a sleepover with her and Rami as well, so you could have a break and she could look after your daughter in the morning while you had a bit of a lie in. 

As you got out of bed and started on your morning routine you were hit with a sudden wave of pre-wedding jitters. What if it rained? What if something went wrong? Were you doing this too soon? You’d only been living together for nine months, after all. Your stressful thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Y/N? You up?” It was Destiny, fulfilling her first job of the day. “Yeah, come in” you called. She took one look at you and rushed over, enveloping you in her arms. “What’s up love?” “I just… I don’t know” you gulped. “I’m having all these doubts all of a sudden. What if this is too soon?” Destiny smiled reassuringly. “You’ve been together for years, this is hardly a whirlwind romance.” “I know, but-” She turned to look you straight in the face. “You love him, don’t you?” You were bewildered at the question. “Of course I do, but-” “And Joe loves you, right?” Destiny pressed on. “Well, yeah, I think s-” You were interrupted by Lucy entering your room, Tallulah in tow. She immediately sent Tallulah off to the bathroom so she could talk to you alone. “What’s going on?” Lucy asked. “Pre-wedding jitters” Destiny explained. “Anyway, you love Joe and he loves you, doesn’t he?” You were oddly uncertain. “I think s-” “He does” Lucy chimed in. “He adores you, Y/N, everyone can see it.” “You see?” Destiny went on. “You love each other, you want to be with each other, and at the end of the day that’s what really matters here.” You sighed. “I know Dess, I just… this’s all happened so quickly, how do I know we’re not moving too fast?” Lucy stepped forward, and Destiny wordlessly let you go so the younger woman could take over. Lucy put her hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Y/N,” she began firmly, “Joe loves you, he really does. Everyone can see how you make each other happy.” “I know that, but-” “So what if you’ve moved quickly?” She cut you off. “When you know, you know. Joe knows, even if you don’t.” You were confused. “How do you know that?” “Rami” Lucy said simply. “He’s never seen Joe look at anyone the way he looks at you, and you know as well as I do how long they’ve known each other.” You were taken aback. How could you have doubted what you and Joe had? “I suppose when I think about it this does feel right, even if it is a bit quick” you declared. Lucy smiled. “Of course it is lovie. Now come on, let’s get you married.”

In the end, the ceremony went off without a hitch. You looked beautiful, Joe only got slightly teary when he saw you at the end of the aisle, and all the guests agreed it was lovely. Even the previous night’s tension with your father was forgotten as soon as he saw you in your full regalia for the first time. The expression on Joe’s face when he first caught sight of you was so adoring, and so happy, all your doubts vanished instantly when you saw it. By the end of the ceremony you were fairly sure you were both wearing identical joyful smiles. You really were glad to be marrying him. 

The reception went well too. The first dance, which you and Joe had positively slaved over, was performed flawlessly, and earned rapturous applause from your guests. The speeches were all excellent as well. Ben's was probably the most polished, but then, he was an actor. You wanted to thank him during the dancing afterwards, but he seemed to have vanished. Joe was strangely unconcerned by this. "He's probably just gone for a smoke, wifey.” He seemed to have been gone a long time, but before you could consider this further you were distracted by Rami and Lucy coming to congratulate you, accompanied by Tallulah. Somehow, in the midst of all the hugs Joe disappeared off somewhere. You couldn't work out where until Lucy led you to a chair near the front table, closest to the little stage area where the sound system was, and urged you to sit there with Tallulah. You were surprised to see there were microphones and amps and even a drum set up, even though you hadn't booked a band.

Your confusion lasted only until Joe and Ben stepped up to two of the mikes. "What are they doing?" you muttered to Lucy. "Just watch" she told you, grinning. Suddenly you noticed a familiar lanky figure wandering over to the third mike. Joe, in the middle, cleared his throat. "Uh, hi everyone, if I could have your attention for a minute? Relax, I'm not doing another speech. So you might know we three have a bit of a side interest in music, even though we don’t get to play together very much. So I just wanted to take the opportunity tonight to do something special for the two very special ladies in my life. To the extremely talented musicians in the audience, please bear with us. Everyone else, enjoy." With that, he picked up a bass, Ben picked up a tambourine, and Gwilym, down the other end, sat on a bar stool at his mike, acoustic guitar in hand. Ben counted them in, and suddenly Gwilym started picking out the very familiar chords of '39, with Joe on bass and Ben on bass drum and tambourine. Then Joe began to sing directly to you and Tallulah, and you thought you might cry, though Tallulah immediately started to sing along. Gwilym and Ben harmonised nicely on backing vocals too. When the end of the song brought rapturous applause, your new husband and his friend beamed, while Gwilym just smiled modestly. When things died down, Joe spoke up again. "Ladies and gentlemen, Gwilym Lee!" he introduced. "And on drums, Ben Hardy!" After a brief round of applause he grinned cheekily. "You liked that?" he asked the crowd. "Lucky for you, we have one more. It's a bit of an oldie, but a goodie" he explained. Another count in from Ben led to the intro to "Hello Mary Lou." Joe looked distinctly nervous as he started to sing again, but you beamed at him as he sang straight to you. The song finished, your guests applauded, and with a wink and a "That's all folks!" the musicians left the stage, taking their instruments with them.

Moments later the three of them appeared in front of you. You promptly threw your arms around them all. "That was amazing! You're so talented, all of you." Ben blushed. "Oh, well, I'm no Roger…" he faltered. "We had excellent teachers” Gwilym added, looking slightly uncomfortable at the praise. "You what?" you asked, surprised. "Brian and Roger taught us Hello Mary Lou" Joe explained. “We already knew ’39 from the movie, just had to refresh our memories a bit.” "Well you all did wonderfully" you mused. "Anyway, 'Hello Mary Lou'?" "I know how much you like it, and it seemed… appropriate for us" Joe shrugged. "I suppose. You really love ’39 though, don't you?" you commented. "Well it always reminds me of us a bit, you know, lovers separated, longing to be together again, it's kind of the story of our relationship, y'know?" Joe explained. "It kind of is" you agreed.

Suddenly Brian and Roger descended on the trio of groomsmen to congratulate them on the performance. You took advantage of their celebration’s rapid turn into an in-depth conversation about drumming between Ben and Roger and embraced Brian. "Thank you for teaching them" you murmured. "That was wonderful." He smiled. "You're very welcome" he said warmly. "You know, it was a bit strange watching them all up there. Joe looks so much like Deaky when he plays, it’s almost alarming." “You should tell Joe that” you commented. “Oh, he knows” Brian replied airily. You were glad, but you thought Joe was extremely talented in his own right too. 

The laughter and dancing seemed to go on forever, but soon enough, the festivities were over and you and Joe were retreating to the bridal bedroom. Even though it was your wedding night both of you were too tired to do much more than undress each other and cuddle. “I love you, wifey” Joe murmured, as you dozed off wrapped in each other’s arms. “I love you, hubs” you murmured back. You weren’t sure you’d ever been happier in your life.

You spent the following week in something of a post-wedding haze. You spent several happy days honeymooning in Rome, enjoying spring sunshine and Italian food. You revelled in the feeling of being married, and in being responsible only for yourselves for a change. It was an odd sensation after so many years of single parenthood. But all too soon the honeymoon was over, and you had to go home to New York. Back to work, school and responsibilities. But also to your new future, which was looking brighter than ever.

May

You returned home still floating in a blissful honeymoon fog. Joe could only stay home for a week before he would be needed in LA again, but you made the most of it by moving house two days after you got back from England. Your wedding gifts had been shipped to the new house ahead of you, bringing with them a few pleasant surprises. In addition to the gifts left by your guests there were a number of cards sent by people who hadn't been able to attend the wedding. You and Joe made sure to read them all together, occasionally asking each other who the senders were. However, there was one card that mystified you both.

One afternoon you wandered into the kitchen to find Joe at the table bent over a stack of cards. "Babe, do you know a John and Veronica?" he asked as you passed him on your way to the pantry. "No, why?" you replied casually. "There's a card here from 'John and Veronica' and I don't know who they are so I figured they must be people you know…" "Maybe I do" you mused. “Show me.” Joe passed the card over, and you started to read. “Joe and Y/N”, it said, ‘Congratulations on your wedding. May your marriage bring you a lifetime of happiness.’ It was signed ‘John and Veronica,’ but you didn’t recognise the handwriting. “Weird,” you murmured, "'John and Veronica' sounds sort of familiar somehow…" Joe looked at you thoughtfully. "It sounds kinda familiar to me too" he said wonderingly. Suddenly he gasped. "John Deacon… John Deacon's wife's called Veronica… you don't think?" Joe babbled frantically. "Could be" you replied evenly. "But how would he have known we were getting married?" "Luke" Joe responded instantly. "Luke Deacon DM'ed me after I did the engagement post on Instagram, just to say congrats, y'know." "Nice bloke" you commented. "Very nice" Joe agreed. "He must've told his dad, I guess. But then how did he-" "Know where to send the card?" you completed. "Sent it to Roger and Brian, probably."

A quick phonecall to Roger confirmed your suspicions, and lead to some interesting revelations. "He knows the real story about you and Loolah now" Roger confessed. "He recognised you in the engagement photo. And her. At least, he knew immediately she was mine" he explained. "I suppose he would" you mused. "And he wanted… he wishes Joe well, he really does. He just wants to stay as far away from the business as possible, you know" Roger added. "I get that now, so much" you laughed. Joe, listening in, looked as though he might cry. He understood exactly what Roger meant, and it made him so very glad to hear it.

All too soon, Joe had to go back to work in LA, again. He was gone for three weeks, until mid-May. By the time he came home a hint of summer was starting to creep into the city air. Annoyingly, though, you were unable to make the most of Joe's eventual return. Lately, you had been so tired all you wanted to do was sleep, even on your days off. You'd been feeling like this for a week by the time Joe came home. The next morning you woke up feeling extremely nauseous. You tried to get up without waking Joe, but the movement made things so much worse you had to jump up and sprint for the toilet. Thank god we have an en-suite now. "Babe?" Joe groaned from the bed. "What's up?" You didn't want to open your mouth to respond. While you were curled over the bowl you heard footsteps. You were suddenly aware of Joe standing behind you. "Oh, honey" he murmured sympathetically, leaning down to rub your back in soothing circles. 

When you finally stopped heaving you looked up to see Joe studying you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Are you sick, babe? You seemed fine last night…" "I was" you told him crossly. "Or at least, I wasn't feeling like this. I have been really tired though" you explained, thoughtfully. "Maybe you've caught something from Loolah?" Joe suggested. She was always passing things on from school. "Maybe" you echoed, unsure. "She hasn't been sick lately though." You hauled yourself upright and went to brush your teeth. "I've probably just eaten something dodgy" you assured your husband. "If you say so" he replied, sounding unconvinced. "You don't believe me?" you asked him. Joe stood behind you at the sink while you brushed, looking uncertain. "I do, it's just… well… we were, ah, trying all honeymoon, maybe it worked?" he said, rather suggestively. "I doubt it" you told him, "It’s only the first month. Besides, I'm about to get m-" Wait, what's the date? You were abruptly silenced by a sudden realisation. "What?" he asked frantically. "My period. It's two weeks late. How did I not notice that?" He smiled. "So you think-?" You nodded. "I really could be. I think I'd better go to the pharmacy today..."

Joe had to go to work that day, but by some weird stroke of luck, you had a day off. You ran out to the pharmacy that very morning and bought two tests, rushing home to do them as soon as you could. The results were clear as day. Positive. Both of them. Oh my god, it actually worked. I’m really pregnant. I have to do something cute to tell Joe. You immediately started to develop a plan for your very special announcement. I’m so happy. God, he’s going to be so excited. He’s going to be the best dad too.

Joe arrived home that afternoon to the usual enthusiastic welcome from Tallulah. When you finally managed to persuade Tallulah to let him go, you sent her off to watch cartoons while you took Joe upstairs to freshen up. "So did you get to the drugstore today?" he asked quietly. "I did" you replied, trying to sound casual. "And?" he questioned, as you reached your shared bedroom.  “I, um, I also got you a present today” you told him, pointing at a white box sitting on your shared bed. “Ookay?” Joe looked at you, confused, as he sat down and opened the box. He pulled out the tiniest Yankees shirt you’d been able to find. “This is so cute!” Joe exclaimed. “But why'd y-? Wait." He stared at the shirt intently. Suddenly he looked at you, thunderstruck. "No. Way" he breathed. "Holy shit. The honeymoon worked?" he asked excitedly, breaking into a huge grin. You nodded, wordlessly showing him the tests you'd hidden in the bedside drawer. Joe’s face lit up, as he broke into happy tears. "Oh my god. You’re actually pregnant?” he asked wonderingly. "Yes, Joe, I’m really pregnant” you echoed, tearing up yourself despite your joyful smile. “We're going to have a baby, darling.” “Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m gonna be a dad!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a bear hug and kissing you deeply through the tears.

“I’m so excited babe, I want to tell everyone” he gushed as he held you. You pulled back to look at him. “Joe, darling, I literally just peed on the sticks this morning, I haven’t even been to the doctor yet. We can’t tell anyone for now, ok?” Joe looked at your serious face and nodded, disappointed. “Ok” he agreed. You paused. “Actually, we’ll need to be careful when we go back down, even Loolah doesn’t know.” “Crap” Joe cursed. “I even have to keep this from your child who lives with us? I know I’m not the expert, but that seems like a bad idea even to me” he said. “It’s only for a few weeks” you reassured him. He sighed. “I know babe, it’s just, I’m so excited, I don’t know if I can keep it in for that long.” “Well you’ll just have to try” you replied quietly. You held each other wordlessly for a moment. “I love you, did I tell you that?” Joe murmured, finally breaking the silence. “Both of you” he added, smiling broadly. “We love you too” you replied dreamily. You didn’t think you’d ever been happier than you were at that moment.

June

By the time you managed to find a doctor and get an appointment a few weeks had passed, and you were already 9 weeks along. In the meantime you had at least managed to get your pregnancy officially confirmed by a blood test at a walk-in clinic. You were still holding off on telling people about it, but it was getting difficult to hide the fact that something was happening to you. You were constantly nauseous, and it was a battle to get through a whole day of work without a spontaneous nap. I swear it wasn’t this bad last time. I suppose I was a lot younger then. This time seems so different though. Joe had managed to keep his promise so far, even with Tallulah, but you weren’t convinced he could go much longer without exploding. In any case, he was very excited about your first appointment. He made sure he was free to go with you on your afternoon off, while Tallulah was at school.

Doctor Baker was a slightly older woman with a calm, pleasant manner and a sterling reputation. You sat quietly in front of her as she checked over your paperwork. “Ok, well, that all looks good. So, just to confirm, is this your first child?” She asked pleasantly. You and Joe looked at each other. “Uh…” he muttered.“It’s my second, but it’s his first” you explained, pointing to him. “Ok, and how old’s your first?” The doctor inquired. “She’s seven” you and Joe replied simultaneously. Doctor Baker smiled kindly. “Well, as it’s been a few years you might find things are a bit different this time around, but that’s totally normal” she told you. “Now, let’s have a look at what’s going on in there.”

You moved over to the bed in her office while she bustled around preparing the ultrasound machine. Joe sat next to you, nervously holding your hand while the doctor put the gel on your stomach and turned the machine on. “Ok, let’s see” the doctor murmured, moving the ultrasound wand around experimentally. “Ah! Here we go” she said suddenly, as the room was filled with the familiar sound of a tiny heart beating. But that doesn’t sound like I remember. “You hear that?” You nodded quietly. “That’s two heartbeats. Two strong heartbeats” the doctor informed you. What?! "There's… what?! Joe cried, his mouth opening in shock. “Two? There’s two of them?” You asked Doctor Baker, equally stunned. “Yes,” she smiled, “two healthy babies. Congratulations.” You and Joe turned to look at each other simultaneously. “Twins!” You both exclaimed. “Oh my god, twins!” Joe gushed, overjoyed. You were both tearing up at the news. “Here, have a look” Doctor Baker said quietly, moving the wand so you could see both babies. “Wow” Joe breathed. “Yeah” you agreed. You made sure to get printouts of a few images from the ultrasound. You wanted to remember this moment forever.

Joe was bursting with excitement when you left the doctor’s office. “Oh my god, babe, we’re having twins!” “I know Joe, I was there” you quipped, exasperated. “I know babe, it’s just, I can’t believe this is actually happening” he explained. “Oh, it’s really happening” you quipped, smiling. Getting home brought another challenge. “Look, I know we’re not telling people yet, but I swear to God if I don’t tell someone soon I’m going to explode” Joe told you later that day. You were still reluctant to tell anybody until you were further along, but you decided to compromise. “We could tell my parents later if you want” you suggested. Joe enthusiastically agreed, so later that afternoon you FaceTimed them while holding one of your ultrasound photos. Your mum gasped when she saw what it was, and you were pretty sure she squealed when you told her you were actually having twins. Your dad was pretty happy too, the semi-argument before your wedding now long forgotten. Joe was very pleased it wasn’t a complete secret any more, and to your immense relief he managed to keep calm once Tallulah got home. You were very excited too, but you knew it was best to wait just a bit longer before telling her. Just a few weeks, and then we can tell everybody.              

July

The arrival of July heralded the beginning of Tallulah's summer holidays. This also meant a visit from Roger, who was taking her to his house in LA for a few weeks, although he was going to enjoy a couple of days with her in New York first. The final day before their departure, which Roger spent showing Tallulah around some of the New York sights, very conveniently coincided with your next visit to Doctor Baker. It was a glorious summer’s day, and you took a minute to enjoy the weather with Joe after your appointment. Both babies had received a clean bill of health, so you were in a buoyant mood as you lounged on a park bench together, basking in the sunshine. “Please tell me we can tell Tallulah now,” Joe pleaded, “keeping this secret is absolutely killing me.” “We’ll tell her tonight” you reassured him. “Oh, wait, Roger’s coming for dinner” you realised, thinking out loud. “So?” Joe responded. “We’re gonna have to tell him at some point, might as well get it over with.” “True” you murmured. “So, we’ll tell them tonight?” he asked. “Yeah.” “And then we can tell the world” Joe added. “And then the world” you echoed, smiling contentedly. It was going to be a good summer.

That night, before dinner, you presented Tallulah with a t-shirt that said ‘World’s Best Big Sister’ on the front. Roger saw it and immediately glanced at you with a knowing smile, but said nothing. Tallulah stared at the shirt in confusion, until suddenly her face lit up when she realised what it meant. “I’m gonna be a big sister?!” She cried, beaming with excitement. You smiled at her obvious joy. “Yes, darling.” “So does that mean… there’s a baby in your tummy, Mummy?” She asked, a little uncertainly. “Actually, Loolah,” Joe cut in, sitting down beside her at the dining table, “there’s two babies in Mommy’s tummy.” “Twins?” Tallulah squealed happily. “Yeah, twins” Joe confirmed, pulling some ultrasound pictures out of his pocket. “Have a look, sweetie.”

Tallulah chattered excitedly all through dinner, clearly delighted at the prospect of two younger siblings. It sounded like she’d had a nice day out with Roger too. Finally dinner was finished, Joe was cleaning up and Roger was putting Tallulah to bed, giving you a rare moment to sink onto the couch and enjoy some peace and quiet. Joe soon returned from the kitchen to sit next to you, holding you close. "You feeling ok?" he asked softly. "Just tired" you reassured him. You cuddled quietly together, chatting lazily about nothing in particular, until Roger reappeared. "Loolah's finally asleep" he told you, settling himself into an armchair next to the couch. "She seems happy, she had lots of questions." "Which you'll have to answer for the next three weeks" you quipped, grinning evilly. "True" Roger commented thoughtfully. "Now, as I haven't said it yet, congratulations, both of you" he added, smiling warmly. "Thanks, man" Joe replied, looking pleased at Roger's obvious joy. "Twins!" Roger mused. "That's… really great, actually. I'm so pleased things have worked out for you two." You and Joe both smiled at that.

“So when are you due?” Roger asked pleasantly. “January” you replied. “Which I guess means I’ll be too pregnant to take Loolah home for Christmas like I was planning.” Joe looked surprised. “You’re already planning Christmas in July?” he asked incredulously. “Not really,” you explained, “I just remembered I’d said to Mum that we’d go back to them this year.” “Well maybe your parents’ll just have to come over here instead” Roger suggested. “Perhaps” you mused. “I could come for New Year’s, have a late Christmas with Loolah” he added, thinking out loud. “That could be fun” Joe commented. You suddenly realised your next New Year’s Eve would be very different to previous celebrations. I’m definitely looking forward to it though.

You and Joe waved Tallulah and Roger off the next morning in an extremely good mood. You were determined to make the most of Tallulah’s holiday in LA, given it was likely to be the last time you were kid-free for quite a while. First on the agenda was a long-awaited band reunion. Unusually, Ben and Gwilym were both going to be working in New York at the same time, so it had been decided that a band dinner simply had to be arranged. You and Joe had decided to make an announcement at this dinner, but your plans went slightly awry when Ben dropped in that afternoon. You didn’t want to tell him early, but he saw you dashing for the bathroom at one point and was immediately concerned. “Are you ok Y/N?” he asked you when you came back. “You look a little pale…” “I’m fine, Ben” you assured him. “What’s up?” Joe asked, wandering over to his friend. “I had to run for the loo again” you explained. “Aw, you’re still sick? I thought it was getting better” Joe sympathised. “You’re sick?” Ben asked. “Um, kind of…” you muttered sheepishly. “Kind of? Guys, what’s going on?” Ben demanded, clearly confused. Joe glanced at you, and you nodded slightly, giving him wordless permission. “It's fine, Ben, it’s just morning sickness” he explained. "Oh. Right" Ben replied automatically. Then he processed Joe's comment properly. “Wait, morning sickness? Does that mean you're-?" He looked expectantly at Joe, who nodded silently. Ben beamed in response "Oh my god, that’s so great! Congratulations!” he gushed, pulling you both into a warm bear hug.

Telling the rest of the band was easy. They knew something was up as soon as you turned down the wine they were sharing. You noticed Ben smirking slightly at their confusion as to why before Joe spoke up. “Yeah, Y/N can’t drink for the next six months… cause I knocked her up.” There were a few giggles, which were followed by a shocked silence as everyone realised Joe was serious. “Yeah, and he did a great job” you added. “I’m having twins.” This revelation triggered an explosion of happy noise around the table. “You sneaky buggers, you didn’t tell me it was twins!” Ben cried, grinning at you regardless. Lucy just squealed with happiness. Dinner was interrupted while everyone stood to embrace you and Joe and murmur their congratulations. Rami looked positively overjoyed for his old friend. "Twins. Wow" he muttered to you. "Yeah, we might need your expert advice some time" you commented. "Oh, of course. Anything you need, just let us know" he assured you.

Later on Gwilym wandered over, beaming at you. “Congratulations love, it’s wonderful news.” “Aw, thank you” you replied, smiling. “They’re not going to play baseball are they?” he asked, half-seriously. “I don’t think they’ll get much choice” you sighed, grinning. “But I’m definitely teaching them cricket too, they’re British after all. I suppose we’ll just have to let them choose when they get older.” Gwilym smiled. “How modern of you.” You grinned wolfishly. “They’re both going to be cricket fans though. No children of mine are allowed to leave me to suffer through a whole Test series alone.” Gwilym laughed at that, and you could feel his happiness for you and Joe. You really were amazed at just how happy everyone was for you.

August

August should have been blissful. Tallulah was back from LA and Joe had arranged his schedule so he'd be working in New York until she went back to school. Even then, he didn't have much on, just a bit of press for his new movie and a few meetings. You were planning to enjoy some time as a family of three, a relaxed interlude before school returned and your family grew. But you spent only a week back together before getting a sharp reminder of some of the less-welcome aspects of life as an actor's wife.

It was Sunday morning, which meant Tallulah was watching cartoons while you and Joe unwound in the kitchen with cups of tea. The peace was suddenly shattered by the jangle of Joe’s phone. Joe glanced at the screen and then at you. “Text from Lucy” he told you. “Apparently we’re on TMZ again.” You’d been attracting a bit of paparazzi attention since appearing at the premiere of Joe’s new movie a few weeks ago, and you were starting to wonder whether they suspected something. “What are they saying?” you asked casually. “I don’t know, I haven’t found it yet” Joe grumbled, scrolling rapidly on the ipad resting on the kitchen bench. “Here we go.” He turned the screen around so you could read it.

At the top was the headline ‘Bo Rhap baby on board?’ over a picture of you and Joe walking down the street, in which your bump was clearly visible under your sundress. “Bloody hell, I knew that dress wasn’t covering anything” you cursed. “Does it matter? Everybody knows anyway” Joe pointed out. “Instagram doesn’t.” “I forgot about that” Joe commented. “Maybe it’s time they did?” he suggested. You had been hoping to hold off on a public announcement a little bit longer, but now it seemed like you didn’t have much choice. “I think it is” you agreed. You spent a lot of that Sunday planning out the perfect announcement, and you found yourself surprisingly excited at the prospect of sharing your news with the world.

The next day you had a doctor’s appointment, and you made a point of getting printouts of your latest ultrasound. You all got a clean bill of health too. When you got home Joe took some very nice pictures of you holding the printouts against your now very obvious bump, as well as some of you just cradling the bump. In the end he picked one of the latter shots to post, along with a close-up of the ultrasound photos against your stomach. Underneath them he wrote: ‘Just when I thought this year couldn’t get any bigger, this happened. Our little trio will be a family of five in January. Yep, double trouble is coming for the Mazzello-Y/L/N household next year (swipe for visual evidence). I almost can’t believe how much I love our little aliens already.’ You couldn’t help smiling when you saw the post. “Good?” Joe asked. “Very” you confirmed. “You’re so cute sometimes, you’re such a softie.”

Joe’s post was instantly deluged with happy comments from all and sundry. Even Brian left a nice message: ‘So pleased for you both. These kids will have wonderful parents, and be loved by so many others too. All the best for January! Bri’. “He’s so lovely” Joe commented. “He is” you agreed. “He’s right though.” “What, that everyone’s going to love our kids?” Joe joked. You smiled. “No, silly, the other thing.” This statement seemed to surprise your husband. “You really think I’m going to be a good dad?” “Joe, you already are” you said softly. Joe was confused. “Huh?” “You’re absolutely Tallulah’s parent at this point” you explained. “Not biologically of course, but that’s not what makes a good parent anyway.” “You think I’m a good parent?” Joe questioned, blown away by your statement. “Of course darling, do you think I would have moved across the pond for you if I didn’t?” You were joking, but only partly. Joe smiled anyway.

Joe ended up needing to fly to LA in the last week of Tallulah’s summer holidays. He was extremely put out that all his careful planning had still lead to him being away over the summer, but you assured him you could survive the last few days before school on your own. Tallulah spent two of them on a sleepover, and you took the last Friday off so you could have a long weekend with her as an end-of-summer treat. You spent most of the day doing back-to-school shopping, even though you wanted nothing more than to lounge on the couch all day. You were able to do that on Saturday, while Joe was helping Tallulah pick out her first day of school outfit via FaceTime. Joe insisted on taking on that particular parent duty, even while he was on the other side of the country. “You wouldn’t understand the importance of this,” he told you. “You always wore a uniform.” You just shrugged; you didn’t have the energy to argue. You weren’t that bothered, truth be told. You were glad to see Joe making the effort to spend some one-on-one time with Tallulah while he still could, even if it was over FaceTime. Oddly, watching them made you miss Joe more, but you knew he’d be home soon enough.

September

Joe had to stay in LA until mid-September. He was quite disappointed about missing Tallulah’s first day back at school, though she didn’t seem to mind much. She was too busy reuniting with all her friends and getting to know her new class. You were glad she was happy to be back at school, and there were a few parents you were pleased to see again too. Many of them had already heard about your impending new arrivals, and those that hadn’t were made aware by your now very obvious bump. In any case they all seemed quite happy for you, which made for a very positive first day of school on all fronts.

You went to a doctor’s appointment by yourself while Joe was away. You didn’t mind particularly, but it felt a bit odd given he’d been so involved up to that point. Doctor Baker seemed surprised to see you alone. “No Joe?” she asked casually. “He’s away” you explained. “Working in LA.” The doctor nodded in understanding. “Of course.” There was a pause while you prepared yourself for the examination. “When you’re ready we’re going to do an ultrasound” Doctor Baker explained. “We should be able to find out the genders today, if you want.” I totally forgot I was getting to that point. Do I want to know though? You hesitated to respond. Wait, does Joe want to know? He should be here when we find out. If we find out. “I think I’d prefer not to know for now” you finally told her. “We can always find out later if we decide we want to know, right?” The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. You’ll have plenty more ultrasounds after this one.” Something to look forward to, then.

Joe was pleased when you told him you hadn’t found out yet. “I definitely want to be there when we find out what we’re having” he told you, when you were FaceTiming that night. “So you want to know, then?” “Yeah” he confirmed. “Don’t you?” You shrugged. “I’m not fussed. I never found out with Loolah, and-” “You weren’t desperate to know?” Joe was shocked. “I didn’t really care what I had, it made no difference to me” you explained. “Plus I didn’t want to freak Roger out, finding out before the birth wasn’t an option in his day.” Joe grinned. “Well it is now, and I don’t want to wait four more months to find out.” You smiled contentedly. “We’ll find out when you get back then.”

Finally the day of Joe’s temporary homecoming arrived. He would have to leave again in only a fortnight, but you were very glad to be getting him back in the meantime. Joe's eyes bugged out when he saw how much you'd grown since he'd been away. "Has it really only been three weeks?!" "Growth spurt" you shrugged. "Or maybe you just didn’t notice how big I was when you left. Anyway, welcome home." You smiled, leaning in for a quick, chaste kiss before Tallulah came barrelling down the hallway to greet Joe. You decided to leave them to it, and shuffled off back to the couch. You could hear Joe clumping around for a while, chatting with Tallulah and putting his things away. Suddenly it went quiet, and then you saw your husband flop down next to you. "Hi honey. I missed you" he told you, leaning over and giving you a deep, hungry kiss. "I missed you too" you murmured, as you broke apart. Joe put his hands on your bump, leaning down to kiss it. "And I missed- what was that?" he asked frantically, eyes wide with shock at what he'd just felt. "I think that was a kick" you told him, smiling. "Keep talking." "What?" Joe asked, confused. "They seem to like your voice" you explained. "Oh. Ok. Well, um, this job kinda sucks and I don't like the director at all. I mean-" Joe stopped abruptly, staring at you with a mixture of joy and shock. "They both kicked" he murmured, looking slightly teary. "Suddenly this all feels a lot more real." "Oh it's plenty real, darling" you told him, smiling broadly. “Yeah but… they’re really real. I have actual living kids in there” Joe marvelled. “I’m actually going to be a dad.” He was practically crying at that. “It’s going to be great Joe. You’re going to be great” you assured him.

Joe’s hands barely left your bump for days. He was determined not to miss anything while he was home, no matter how small. He was particularly excited about attending your next appointment now that you were going to find out the genders of your babies. Your twins weren’t identical, so both babies would need to be checked. You and Joe were both rather antsy as the ultrasound got underway. “Ok, we’re almost there” Doctor Baker told you, smiling at your obvious excitement. She peered at the screen for a minute. “So this one is Baby A, and it’s a boy.” You turned to Joe. “A boy!” he beamed, slightly glossy eyed. Your moment was broken by Doctor Baker clearing her throat. You turned your attention back to her. “I’ve found Baby B now, and it looks like…” You felt a flutter in your belly as you saw the baby turn away from you on the screen. “Well they’re not cooperating now,” the doctor went on, “but from what I saw before it looked like a boy too.” You and Joe were quiet as you digested the news. Two boys. Bloody hell. Your reverie was broken by Doctor Baker’s voice. “I feel I should warn you, with the ultrasound we can’t guarantee what we tell you is right, but I’m pretty confident about Baby A being a boy.” “You’re not confident about Baby B?” Joe asked her. “Not entirely, I didn’t get a very good look before they decided to hide.” “It’s fine” you assured her, wanting to get on with the appointment before Joe got worked up. Whatever happened, you’d deal with it when the time came.    

October

Joe spent quite a lot of October flying back and forth between work in LA and your home in New York. His shooting schedule turned out to involve a lot of three day breaks, just long enough for a quick visit home. You would have quite liked to spend most of them relaxing together, but Joe was determined to do as much baby preparation as possible while he was home, to save you the effort. He was thrilled to be having twin boys, and had dived into nursery set-up with gusto. He was determined to get the big things like the cribs sorted out nice and early, just in case. “You’re having twins, they’re likely to come early” he reminded you after you told him for the umpteenth time to relax. “They’re not due for months, Joe. Besides, the doctor said everything’s on track for January.” Your husband wouldn’t be persuaded. “Things can change very quickly. You never know when something might happen.” You stopped arguing the point when you realised he was never going to change his mind, and eventually Joe admitted he was doing it because he felt guilty about leaving you alone at home so much.

You weren’t actually alone very often though. There was Tallulah, of course, and plenty of your friends and family were dropping in regularly to check up on you (you suspected Joe might have told them how he worried about you). Joe’s mother was a frequent visitor, spurred by the desire to both help you and reassure her son. One afternoon you were sat with her drinking tea, not long after Joe had FaceTimed you. “So how was the daddy-to-be?” she asked. You smiled. “Same as usual. Annoyed he’s not here, missing us desperately.” Joe’s mother smiled affectionately. “Didn’t want to talk about work then.” “He never does” you told her. Suddenly Tallulah trotted up to the couch. “Did you say Daddy?” she asked eagerly. “We were talking about Joe, darling” you explained. Tallulah was confused. “But he’s not Daddy.” “He’s not” you agreed. “But he’s their daddy.” You patted your swollen belly, indicated Tallulah’s unborn siblings. “Oh.” Tallulah looked thoughtful; you wondered whether she understood. “Does that mean I have to call Joe Daddy when the babies come?” she finally asked. You smiled reassuringly. “Not if you don’t want to. But other people might” you explained. “Oh. Ok.” Tallulah looked unhappy at this development. “Could I make a suggestion?” Joe’s mum asked gently. “Loolah, do you remember how I told you Joe’s half-Italian?” Tallulah nodded. “Well the Italian word for daddy is ‘papa’. Maybe you could call him that instead?” “Papa…” Tallulah pronounced the word experimentally, testing how it sounded. Suddenly she smiled. “I like it!” She wasn’t the only one. Joe beamed when he heard her greet him with a happy “Hi Papa!” on FaceTime. We’re really a family now, aren’t we.

November

Joe had hoped his work schedule would continue to allow him frequent trips to see you, but it was not to be. He had one break before Thanksgiving, for a single day, which he spent alone in LA, desperately wishing he was home. As the weeks rolled on he was increasingly worried about how you were managing on your own. “I’m not on my own, Joe” you assured him down the phone. “Your mum visits twice a week, and Lucy texts me five times a day to check on me.” Lucy was coming to New York to spend Thanksgiving with Rami, and you were already making extensive plans to get together while she was in town. “I know she is, Rami told me” Joe grumbled. “I’m just worried that you’ll be alone with Tallulah and something’ll happen and I won’t be there to help.” His concern for you was evident in the tone of his voice. “Tallulah’s seven, babe, she’s perfectly capable of calling someone if we need help” you pointed out. “I suppose…” Joe sighed. “But what if they come early and I’m not there?” “You’re going to be back a month before they’re due, and even the doctor thinks they’re unlikely to come before Christmas.” Or so you thought.

Joe finally came home for Thanksgiving weekend, and the day after the holiday you had yet another appointment with Doctor Baker. Carrying twins meant you needed frequent checkups to make sure things continued to progress smoothly. This time you got some unexpected, and not entirely welcome, news. “So are you all ready for these guys to arrive?” the doctor asked pleasantly, while you were tidying yourself up after your examination. “Uh, kind of” you and Joe both stuttered. Doctor Baker looked slightly worried. “Well, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think you should be aware that realistically you could go into labour really any time from now on.” You were both shocked. “But isn’t it still too early?” you asked, suddenly scared. “I mean. I’m not due for another seven weeks.” Doctor Baker hurried to reassure you. “That’s true, and at this point it’s early enough that our first move would be to try and stop the labour, but that doesn’t always work.” You and Joe looked at each other with concern, not particularly reassured. “Look, I don’t think you’re going to go into labour tomorrow, and even if you did I would expect your babies to be absolutely fine” the doctor told you calmly. “But I would be prepared for them to arrive some time before Christmas.” “But that’s still three weeks early at least!” you spluttered. “Three weeks early is nearly full term” Doctor Baker said calmly. “And twins are very often born early. Not always, but it’s very common. In any case, I’m only telling you this because I think it would be a good idea if you started to make a plan now for what you want to happen when your babies do come. Just in case, you know. It never hurts to be prepared.” “Of course Doctor. Thanks for the advice” Joe replied, sounding calmer than he looked as you left the doctor’s office.

On your drive home Joe let the façade drop. “They can’t come yet, I’m about to be away for two weeks” he said, seemingly on the verge of panic. “And it’s still so early, what if one of them’s sick?” “They won’t be, Joe, we’re in good hands” you told him, not entirely believing it yourself. “Anyway, we definitely need to make a plan. I don’t want them to come while you’re not here either, but I’d much rather be at least somewhat prepared if they do.” “You’re right” Joe sighed. “When we get home we’ll work something out.”

In the end the plan you came up with mostly involved going to the hospital and ringing Joe as soon as possible so he could get on the next plane home. “What if I don’t get there in time though?” He fretted. “I’ll make sure to record it for you” you reassured him. “But they’re my first kids, I want to be there. I’m supposed to go through it with you!” You wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. “I know, darling, I want you with me too. But sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want, and that’s ok.” Joe shook his head. “No it’s not. I don’t want to be that dad who wasn’t even there when his kids were born.” “You could never be that dad, Joe” you reassured him, pulling him close. “If you do end up missing it, it won’t be your fault at all.” Your husband suddenly peered intently at you. “How are you so calm about this?” “Last time I had a baby I had absolutely no way of knowing if the father would be there, and neither did he” you pointed out. “As much as he wanted to be there, neither of us had any control over it. This time we do, and I know you’ll move heaven and earth to get here in time if it comes down to it.” Joe still wasn’t entirely soothed, but he at least had faith you would be alright, whatever happened.

The knowledge that the babies could come at any time made Joe more worried than ever about leaving you alone while he was on the other side of the country. Fortunately, your wonderful friends were more than happy to step in when they were informed of the situation. Lucy was staying in New York until New Year’s, so she organised to visit you every day she could while Joe was away, and she promised to send Rami on the days she couldn’t. She even volunteered to be your hospital buddy if necessary. Ben also happily offered support, though of a slightly different kind.

“Uh, babe, would you be okay with a houseguest while I’m away?” Joe asked you at dinner, the night before he was due to fly back to LA. “Depends who it is” you said casually. “Why?” “Ben’s in town for press next week, and we thought maybe he could stay here, help you with Loolah til I get back.” That would be helpful. “How long’s he here for?” you inquired. “Two weeks, we’re gonna hang out for a couple days when he’s done working” Joe explained. “When’s he get here?” “Monday week” Joe told you. I’d only have to spend a week alone while Joe’s not here. You smiled. “Okay then.” Relief swept over Joe’s face. “Oh good. I feel a lot better about leaving you now I know you won’t be alone” he told you. “In the meantime I’m telling them they’re to stay put until you’re home again” you said firmly.        

December

True to her word, Lucy had visited you nearly every day after Joe returned to LA. The first day after Joe left turned out to be the one day she wasn’t free, so Rami dropped in to check on you instead. He insisted it was no trouble, despite his busy schedule. “I had a day off today, I wasn’t busy” he told you, after you thanked him for making time to see you. “Anyway, I’m always here for you and Joe. Me and Lucy. If you need anything, honestly, just call us, anytime. Even the middle of the night, we won’t mind. Seriously, we’re here to help however we can.” “Thanks, Rami” you murmured, hearing the sincerity in his words.

The first week without Joe passed surprisingly quickly, and before you knew it the day of Ben’s arrival was upon you. You were looking forward to having some adult company, but you were slightly nervous too. You’d never spent any substantial time alone with Ben, and now he was going to be sharing your house for a fortnight. Tallulah, on the other hand, was extremely excited about one of her favourite people coming to stay. So excited, in fact, that she tried to stay home from school to be there when he arrived. You eventually won the battle, but the whole process of getting her to school tired you out so much that you spent a lot of the morning napping on your couch. You awoke to the telltale sound of a car in the driveway, and waddled as fast as you could to the front door, opening it just in time to see a cab disgorge Ben, a large suitcase and two other bags.

Ben smiled when he saw you in the doorway. “Y/N!” he called out happily. “Don’t come out, I can sort myself. Go and sit down, I won’t be long.” You made agreeing noises, realising you wouldn’t be much help with anything in your present state. Besides, you were officially banned from heavy lifting, you wouldn’t even be able to help carry something. Several minutes of shuffling and yelling directions up and down your stairs later, Ben was settled into your guest room. When he came downstairs again he was smiling warmly. “It really is good to see you again, love.” “You too” you agreed. Ben’s eyes went wide when he finally got a good look at you, and your enormous bump. “God, you’re…” He trailed off, looking apologetic. “Go on, say it. It’s fine” you assured him. “Well then, you’re kind of huge. Joe’s told me about the bump, hell he’s even shown me pictures, but seeing the real thing… how do you even get that big and not, like, break?” “With great difficulty” you quipped. You weren’t offended by Ben’s honest reaction, you knew he was just a bit shocked.

Five minutes later you were sat on the couch nursing a cup of tea while Ben made himself a coffee. You were quite grateful to be sitting down as the monsters were suddenly restless. “I’m done here, do you want anything else?” Ben called from the kitchen. “I’m good” you called back. Ben returned to the couch to see you holding your tea rather gingerly while looking uncomfortable. “Are you alr- … what is that?” His eyes widened when he glanced at your bump and realised it was moving. You smiled reassuringly. “They’re just kicking. D’you wanna feel?” Ben grinned eagerly. “Yeah! If that’s ok with you?” “Of course it is. C’mere.” He’s so lovely. Half the planet doesn’t even bother asking before touching the bump. You placed his hand over the spot the babies were kicking at. His jaw dropped at the feeling. “That’s so weird! It must be weirder for you though, feeling that from inside.” You grinned. “It is a bit, but it’s sort of reassuring too, getting to feel that they’re still there, still ok.” Ben smiled. “Well it seems pretty cool to me.” You grinned back. “Oh, it’s very cool.” 

Tallulah was very excited to come home and find Ben waiting for her. “Benny!” She yelled, running over to embrace him. “Loolah!” He cried back. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you, you’re getting so big!” He gushed. “I heard you’re going to be a big sister soon too.” She nodded seriously. “Mommy’s having two babies. That’s why she’s so big.” Ben smiled. “I heard. Now come into the lounge room, I’ve got a present for you.” He smiled at you on the way past. “I’ve got a present for Mummy too.”

Ben had brought your daughter a kid’s cricket set, complete with plastic wickets. “She’s English, she shouldn’t be playing bloody softball” he quipped. “Also Gwilym may have told me I have to save her before she goes native.” You just laughed. For you, Ben had brought over a big jar of marmite and two large packs of Jaffa Cakes. “Joe told me you’d been craving them” he explained. You were surprised. “Joe talks to you guys about pregnancy stuff?” Ben smiled exasperatedly. “Mate, he hardly shuts up about it.” You smiled affectionately. “Not that it’s not cute how excited he is,” Ben said hurriedly, “but he’s barely talked about anything else for months.” Okay, I can see how that could get annoying. Still adorable though. 

Ben slotted surprisingly easily into the routines of your household. He was out working or socialising at various times of the day or night, but when he was home he was an excellent guest. He took Tallulah to and from school as often as possible, knowing leaving the house was fast becoming a big effort for you. He also insisted on doing as much housework as he could, helping you with washing, cooking and cleaning whenever he had time. “Joe’d have my head if he thought I’d left you to do everything in your condition” Ben joked one day, after you’d told him for the umpteenth time you were fine to do light chores. You didn’t particularly mind, if you were really honest, you actually quite liked having an extra adult around.

Joe finally came home in the second week of December. You shared a very long hug in the doorway when he finally made it home. He nearly cried with relief when he saw you. Of course he’d already known that you were ok before he left LA, but he’d spent two weeks worrying about what ifs, not to mention the several interminable hours he spent unable to talk to you on the plane. “If we ever have another I’m staying home the whole time, I never want to deal with that much worry again” he declared later. That night Ben had dinner at home with the three of you. Joe had wanted to go out, but he took one look at your expression when he suggested it and immediately changed his mind. During the meal he took a picture with Ben, which he posted to Instagram with the caption ‘Finally reunited.’ Naturally, his comments exploded in minutes, but he was too focused on catching up with both of you to care. 

You were so looking forward to spending a few days just relaxing with Joe now that he was finally home. But apparently your children had other plans. The very next morning you lurched awake at 5am with a sharp pain in your belly. You didn't think much of it initially, you'd been having all sorts of pains on and off for weeks. Then you realised you were lying in a wet patch. Well shit. "Joe." You tried to shake your husband awake gently. "Joe, wake up." "What?" he groaned, still mostly asleep. "I think my waters broke" you said urgently. He lurched upright. "It's go time? Even though it’s still five weeks early?" he asked, suddenly awake. "Looks like it" you said dryly. Joe leapt out of bed, looking frantic. "Shit. Ok. We need to get the bag, and get dressed, and-" "Joe, calm down. There's no need to rush, we've got plenty of time" you reassured your frantic husband. He immediately stopped babbling. "Well, you're the expert." You smiled. "Help me get dressed?" you requested. "Of course babe." Joe's eyes were soft and loving as he spoke. It took only a few minutes for you both to be ready to leave the house. But you had a couple more things to attend to before you could head to the hospital.

First Joe helped you across the landing to the guest bedroom currently occupied by Ben. He entered quietly with you waddling behind him. "Ben" he whispered urgently, nudging his friend, "Ben, come on." It didn't work, so Joe reached across to hit him gently with a spare pillow. "Ben!" Ben rolled over, groaning, only to snap awake at the sight of the two of you leaning over his bed. "What, what's going on?" he asked, concerned. "The babies are coming" Joe explained. "We have to go to the hospital." "Perfect timing" Ben quipped. "Yeah, if this had happened this time yesterday you’d have been driving me" you joked. "Look, I’m pretty glad this guys held off until now" Joe cut in. "But anyway, I know you're here for work but can you do us a huge favour and watch Tallulah today?" he added, pleading a little with his eyes. Ben smiled. "Of course I can. I think I'm actually free today anyway" the blond man told you both. "Great!" you smiled. "Now brace yourself, she's probably going to come and jump on you after we wake her." "So make sure you're decent under there" Joe added, as he helped you out of the room. Ben just groaned. It was too early in the day for humour. 

You had one more stop before leaving. Tallulah's room. "Loolie?" you said quietly, reaching over from the chair next to her bed. "Mommy?" she replied in surprise, peering at you sleepily. "It's ok darling, I just wanted to tell you the babies are coming today" you reassured her. "Today?" Tallulah echoed. "Yes, darling. Joe's taking me to the hospital in a minute" you told her gently. "Ben's going to stay and look after you, so be good for him, okay?" you instructed. "Yes Mommy" she murmured back. "Ok, big sister, I'll see you later" you said happily, leaning over to hug your daughter. "I love you" you whispered into her wavy blonde hair. "Love you Mommy" she whispered back. You felt oddly emotional as you kissed her goodbye and left the room. Next time I see her she'll be a big sister.  

You managed to stay calm while Joe helped you into the car. But almost as soon as you started moving you burst into tears. "You ok?" Joe asked casually. Your weird moods were nothing exceptional any more. "Mostly" you told him. "It's just hit me as we were leaving that Tallulah's not going to be my only child after today" you explained. "That's a good thing, though, isn't it?" he replied, concerned. "Of course it is" you assured him. "It's just that, it was just me and her for so long, and even after you came along we were so close, and now it's not going to be like that any more" you explained, rather sadly. "Babe, you're not going to lose your bond with Loolah just because you've got other kids to raise" Joe reassured you. "I mean, it's going to be different now, but a good different, right?" "Yeah, good different" you agreed. "Plus, she's so pumped to be a big sister, it's gonna be so cute" he told you, smiling. 

It was fairly quick, in the end. You had wondered whether Doctor Baker would attempt to stop the labour, but she told you the best option at this point was to let it happen. “You’re far enough along that your babies are more or less fully developed, even though they’re not quite full term” she assured you. “They’re very healthy, they’ll be perfectly fine.” She also gave you an injection soon after you arrived at the hospital to help the babies’ lungs develop. I don’t think it’ll have much time to work, but I suppose even a little bit helps.

Joe stayed at your side for almost the entire labour, holding your hand, rubbing your back and doing anything and everything you needed him to. Finally, just before noon, the first baby arrived. "Here he is!" Doctor Baker called out, as his piercing cries filled the room. You were flooded with relief when you heard it. His lungs must be ok then. Joe sniffled as he cut the cord, and then there was a sudden flurry of activity on the other side of the room as various people descended to check the baby over, concerned about the potential consequences of his early birth. The doctor had told you earlier that a team from the NICU would be present to check both babies immediately after delivery, but you couldn’t help worrying at the sight of the crowd around your tiny son. He was only five weeks early, but what if something was wrong? Fortunately, nobody in the room seemed overly concerned so far.

Moments later, calm descended, and a nurse came over to you, carrying your son in a loose blanket. "He’s a bit small, but he’s totally healthy” she told you, smiling. “You want to help keep him warm while we wait for the other baby?" she asked. You shook your head. "Dad gets first go" you told her, smiling. Joe was wide-eyed with wonder as she placed his baby on his exposed chest for skin-to-skin bonding, showing him how to support his son's body correctly. "Hey buddy" he murmured, in a sing-song voice. His overjoyed face when he looked over to you, barely holding back happy tears, was a memory you would treasure forever. "We have a son babe" he marvelled. "I have a son."

You smiled, then suddenly groaned. "I think we're about to have another o-aaargghhh!" "Alright Y/N, time to push again" Doctor Baker said brightly. Well duh. You could have slapped her if she'd been in reach. But then you looked back at Joe, happily cradling your son on his chest, while trying to hold your hand at the same time and looking desperately conflicted, and you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over you. It was strangely grounding as you gathered your remaining strength. Doctor Baker started gently talking you through the process, but your energy was rapidly running out. "Almost there Y/N, one more push now" she instructed you. "I can't do it any more," you cried, "I'm too tired." "You're so close now, just one more push" the doctor encouraged. "I can't" you cried again, shaking your head. Suddenly Joe squeezed your hand. "Babe, look at me" he said, voice low and soft. You turned to see him wearing an expression that was somehow adoring and determined at the same time. "I know you're tired, but you're so so close to the finish line. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, I know you can do this" he told you encouragingly. "Ok" you replied in a small voice. Joe smiled at you adoringly. "Now let's go. I'm right here with you." You gripped his hand tightly as you summoned one final effort. Moments later crying rang out through the room once again.

"Well done Y/N, you did it… oh, and it's a girl!" Doctor Baker announced. "What?!" you and Joe yelled simultaneously. "You said they were boys!" he spluttered, utterly shocked as he leant over to cut the cord again. You were rapidly becoming too exhausted to care much. The doctor was unfazed. "Well, I was wrong" she responded calmly. "Ultrasounds can be tricky to read sometimes, especially with twins. But I made a mistake, and I'm sorry about that." "It's ok" you replied. Joe still looked indignant, but at that moment a nurse came and placed your tiny daughter on your chest. His expression softened immediately, and he quickly broke into happy tears. "One of each" he sniffled, gazing between his newborn children. "We've got one of each now." You just smiled contentedly. "Yeah we do." Joe leaned over to kiss you gently. “You’re amazing honey, you really are. I love you so much.” You smiled contentedly at him “I love you too dear.”

You could have stayed there forever, you thought, just gazing at the two little beings you’d created. They would need to go to NICU soon, but they were breathing well and doing everything they were supposed to, so you were given some time to bond first. You spent the first half hour enjoying first cuddles and skin-to-skin time. You were actually encouraged to go skin-to-skin as much as possible to help the babies regulate their body temperatures. You were hardly complaining though. Joe eventually got out his phone to take some photos of you and the twins. You were very pleased you managed to capture some of him too, especially the heartwarming expression on his face when he did skin-to-skin with both babies at once for the first time. Soon after he took a similar picture of you, which he promptly sent to Ben to announce the birth. “Couldn’t resist, sorry. You just look so happy.” “So do you” you told Joe, grinning. He smiled. “I feel ridiculously happy right now.” Thirty seconds later Joe’s phone buzzed. “Ben says congratulations” he told you. “Oh, and he’s told Tallulah. He wants to know if he can bring her in to meet them yet.” Joe looked at you with concern. “Should we let him? Will they be ok?” he asked nervously. “Joe, they’re basically fine” you reassured him. “I’m sure the doctor would have told us if visitors weren’t allowed.” You smiled. “Tell him to head in. It’ll be nicer for Loolie to see them now anyway, before they go in the incubators.” Three minutes later Ben texted again saying they were on their way, and you and Joe spent a few minutes making yourselves presentable before settling in to wait.

Suddenly a pair of blond heads poked through the door. "Are you ready for a visitor?" Ben asked, smiling gently. "Definitely" Joe smiled. Ben stepped aside to reveal Tallulah, who rushed into the room with a happy cry. Joe stopped her just inside the door. "We need to be quiet and gentle, okay? The babies are delicate, we don't want to hurt them by accident" he explained. "Ok" Tallulah nodded gravely. Joe led her to your bed, where the babies were resting against your chest. "Hello Mommy" she said quietly. "Hi Loolie" you replied. "You're a big sister darling!" you told her happily. "Come and sit next to me so you can see them." "Ok" Tallulah beamed. There was a bit of awkward shuffling while Joe arranged a chair for her. During this interlude you glanced up to see Ben lurking at the door to your room. "You're allowed to come in, you know" you commented. "Oh, I don't want to intrude…" he muttered, slightly embarrassed. "You could never" Joe reassured his friend. Ben smiled at that. "Well, if you're sure…" "Yes" you and Joe insisted simultaneously. "Come on, I'll grab you a seat" Joe added, trotting off immediately.

You turned your attention back to Tallulah, now sat near your head. "Darling, this is your brother Joey" you told her, pointing to the baby on the right. "And this" you added, indicating the other baby, "is your sister. She doesn't have a name yet." Tallulah's face lit up at this news. "I have a brother and a sister? Cool!" You had to smile at how pleased she was. "Wait, she's a girl? I thought they were both boys" Ben chimed in, from his spot facing Tallulah's chair. "Yeah, so did we" Joe quipped. "It was a nice surprise though" he added, voice softening enormously. You smiled quietly to yourself for a brief moment, before Tallulah's voice broke through your reverie. "Can I hold them Mommy?" "Of course" you smiled. "Who do you want to hold first?" 

You had expected Tallulah might be extra pleased to have a sister, but she was equally entranced by both babies, evidently thrilled just to have siblings of her own. She seemed very comfortable holding them too, despite Joe’s nervous hovering and many reminders to “be gentle, they’re delicate.” Clearly she was a natural big sister. Ben, too, looked like a natural with a newborn in his arms, even if he was a little freaked out by just how small your babies were. "He's so little" he cooed, after being handed Joey by Tallulah, who was now gently cuddling her new sister. "Seriously, I don't think I've seen a baby this tiny before, and I've definitely never held one." "You're not nervous are you?" you asked half-seriously. "Little bit" Ben admitted. "I'm worried I'll accidentally hurt him cos he seems so fragile." Joe smiled reassuringly. "You're doing great, man" he told his friend. "They actually are kinda small though, even for newborns. But you’ll be fine, don’t worry about it." You thought both babies did look particularly tiny against Ben's muscly frame, but you said nothing. Joe, though, snapped a very sweet picture of Ben holding your daughter on his phone. “I have to preserve this image for posterity” he told you. Ben took some pictures too, after he handed the babies back to you and Joe. Your favourite was the shot he got of your whole family, gazing adoringly at its newest members. "You look so happy, guys" he commented, showing you the picture afterwards. You and Joe smiled contentedly at him. "We are" you replied. And you were.

You were well enough to be released after three nights in hospital. The twins, however, were required to stay in NICU for a few more days. “It’s mainly for observation” their doctor told you. “They’re doing very well, we just want to be sure there’s no issues before we let them go home.” You were reassured there were no concerns about your babies’ health, but it didn’t make it any easier to be forcibly separated from them, even if it was only when you went home at night.

The many hours spent watching over the twins in NICU proved somewhat useful, as you and Joe were now faced with the unexpected dilemma of choosing a name for your newborn daughter. You’d agreed long ago that your first son would be officially named after Joe, though you’d decided to nickname him Joey to avoid confusion. But discussions about girls’ names hadn’t gone very far before you’d been given the impression you were having twin boys. Since that impression had turned out to be incorrect, you were now facing an uphill battle to agree on a name for your little girl.

"Madison?" Joe suggested. "No. Too American" you responded instantly. “You do realise she is American?” Joe pointed out. You didn’t particularly care. “Only half. Anyway I don’t like the name. Any other ideas?” "Fine” Joe huffed. “Uh, Amy?” You considered it for a moment. “Amy Mazzello. Mhmm, maybe.” “Maybe?” Joe spluttered. “Well what’ve you got then?” “Matilda?” You offered. “I don’t like it” Joe replied. “Way too English. And, Matilda Mazzello?” “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great” you conceded. “Ooh I know! Poet” Joe suggested. You didn’t like it. “God no. We’re not Hollywood hippies, Joe” “You totally are a hippy” he snorted. You quirked your eyebrows. “What makes you say that?” “Uh, you called your first kid Tallulah Rainbow?” he pointed out. “Tallulah is a perfectly respectable name!” You protested. “Besides, the Rainbow part came from her father, not me.” “That… kind of makes sense” Joe conceded. “Still a bit hippy though.” “It’s really not” you grumbled, explaining the significance of the Rainbow Theatre in Tallulah’s life story. “Actually, that’s quite sweet” Joe admitted. Nevertheless, you and Joe were still struggling to find any names you both liked.

In the end, the solution arrived from a rather unexpected source: miss Tallulah Rainbow herself. “Amber” she suggested, when you asked if she had any name ideas to offer her sister. “Amber…” you and Joe considered. “Amber Mazzello…” “I like that” Joe told you. “So do I” you agreed. Joe feigned shock. “We both like it? I don’t believe it!” “Oh shut up” you grumped. “Anyway, do we want to try and find a middle name we can agree on, or just give her one name and be done with it?” “Actually, I was hoping we could slot in a Queen reference somewhere” Joe admitted. “I was thinking maybe her middle name could be Mercury?” “That’s such a cool name” Ben interjected. “It is” you agreed. “So, Amber Mercury Mazzello?” Joe suggested, carefully sounding out the full name for the first time. “Amber Mercury Mazzello” you repeated. “I love it.” 

You felt bad for messing up Ben's plans, but you could also see that having him around was an utter godsend while the twins were still in hospital. Despite supposedly being in town for work, he spent a lot of that week looking after Tallulah and generally being helpful around the house. This had the dual benefit of freeing you and Joe to spend most of your time with the twins, and ensuring Tallulah didn’t feel too left out in all the chaos. Ben did end up having to cancel a couple of interviews, but he didn’t mind too much. “They were group interviews, the rest of the cast still went, it’s fine” he assured you over dinner one night. "Besides, one of them was with Screenstuff, so I’m quite happy to have missed that." “With Marcie?” Joe asked, in a very sympathetic tone. “Yep” Ben replied. “Uhh, Screenstuff?” You asked. “Entertainment website. Marcie’s their main movie reporter and she’s… not the brightest” Joe explained. “Has a really obvious thing for Ben too.” You were confused. “Is… is that a bad thing?” “It is when I’m trying to promote a project and my body is all they ask about” Ben clarified. “Apparently she got all miffed when I didn’t turn up today, said half her questions were for me” he told Joe. Joe whistled. “Bet that went down well.” A sudden thought occurred to you. “You didn’t tell them where you were, did you?” you asked frantically. “Only the other cast members, and they didn’t tell anyone” he assured you. “They just told the reporters I was sick, no one’s going to work it out, don’t worry.” You were very relieved, seeing as no-one outside your immediate circle knew the babies had arrived yet, and you wanted to keep it that way at least until they were out of hospital. 

Finally, the big day arrived. The twins were finally released from hospital after six days in NICU. Joe was a bundle of nervous excitement as he very carefully placed them in their carseats and drove you all home. The excitement seemed to win out for most of the day, until you put both babies down for an afternoon nap. As you sank gratefully onto the couch, you noticed Joe staring into space with a rather stricken expression. “What’s up, love?” “It just hit me a minute ago…” he mumbled. “What just hit you?” You had a hunch about what was bothering him, but you wanted to hear him say it. “I just realised I’m now responsible for two whole human beings for the rest of my life, and I’m freaked out” he told you. “Like, I’m super happy that they’re here and they’re healthy and they’re ours, but…” You smiled gently. “I know you are, dear, I am too.” Joe suddenly looked at you with confusion. “Wait, why aren’t you freaking out right now?” “Been here before,” you said airily, “I’m still a little freaked out, I just knew it was coming.” You paused. “Plus, it’s less scary this time” you added. “It’s not so new and different, and I’ve got you.” Joe smiled at that. “Indeed you do. You’re not slightly terrified by having two though?” You waved a hand. “We’ll manage. There’s two of them, but there’s two of us too.”

Joe was slightly startled the following afternoon when he picked up his phone and realised he hadn’t even looked at Instagram in nearly a week. “It’s so weird” he muttered, scrolling through everything he’d missed. You wondered what he’d seen. “What’s weird?” “It feels like my whole world’s… shifted since I got home, but on Instagram everything seems exactly the same” he explained. “Even my Insta looks like I’ve just been hanging out with Ben all week, but I’ve barely seen him.” “Everyone knows Insta’s mostly not real life” you reassured him. “Yeah,” Joe agreed, “but this is such a huge thing in my life and it’s not there at all.” “Well, if you wanna announce it, feel free. We’ve told all our friends and families now anyway” you pointed out. Joe grinned excitedly. “You’re ready to tell the world about them?” “Absolutely.”

Joe agonised over his baby announcement post. In the end he picked a picture you’d taken of him with the twins dozing on his chest. He posted it with a lengthy caption: ‘So this week I was supposed to be relaxing with Ben… Instead I spent most of it at the hospital since these guys decided to make their entrance last Saturday, five weeks early. Everyone’s healthy, they just needed a bit of time to adjust to life earthside. Anyway, meet my new favourite people: Joseph Francis IV (but we’re calling him Joey) and Amber Mercury (she’s in the dino onesie) Mazzello. Also my wife is amazing and I love her so much more than I can ever express.’ Gwilym very quickly commented ‘So incredibly happy for all of you. Can’t wait to get over and meet these cuties!’ Lucy just posted a line of heart eyes emojis. Later on Brian left a lengthy note. ‘Delighted to hear these two arrived safe and healthy, if a bit ahead of schedule. Hopefully everyone’s adjusting well to their new roles. Huge congratulations and warmest wishes to you all. Bri’. Even Ben eventually chimed in: ‘They’ve stolen my man but they’re so cute I’m not even mad.’    

The next day you got a rude shock, when you realised that despite the lavishly decorated tree in your lounge room you and Joe had entirely forgotten Christmas was nearly upon you. By the time you remembered it was only a week away. “There’s so much to do” you fretted to Joe. “We’ve got to wrap everything and do cards and… shit, two of our kids don’t even have any presents yet.” “They’re a week old, I don’t think they’re gonna care” your husband tried to reassure you. It didn’t help. “But it’s their first Christmas, they’ve got to have something” you insisted. Joe smiled reassuringly. “Well in that case, I’d better go shopping tomorrow” he declared, kissing you gently.

Joe went out alone the next day. But he had a surprise for you. “You were worried about getting everything sorted in time, so I’ve called in reinforcements” he told you as he was leaving. You quirked an eyebrow. “Reinforcements?” “Lucy’s coming over later to help you out” he explained. It wasn’t the solution you’d been expecting, but it turned out to be a good one. With Lucy’s help you made surprisingly quick work of your to-do list, and by the time Joe got home the house was tastefully decorated and there was a small pile neatly wrapped presents under the tree. She even helped Tallulah bake and ice some Christmas biscuits for you all. Her reward was some time spent cooing over your sleepy newborns. “They’re beautiful, lovie!” All in all, everyone ended the day satisfied. 

Christmas Day was fairly peaceful in the end. You enjoyed a relaxing morning opening gifts at home ahead of Christmas dinner with Joe’s family. You and Joe had agreed not to go overboard on presents this year, knowing you’d have a lot of other things going on at Christmastime. But Joe did manage to sneak in a small surprise for you. “From Joey and Amber” he said, handing over one last parcel with a soft smile. You delicately undid the wrapping to uncover a framed copy of the picture Ben had taken of the five of you in hospital the day the twins were born. “Oh, it’s lovely!” you gushed, leaning over to hug Joe. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me, they got it for you” he replied, grinning. You smiled. “You must have helped though.” “That I did” Joe agreed. “Well thank you for helping them” you told him, leaning in for a chaste kiss. “You’re the best.”

Joe’s family were very excited about meeting the twins, of course, but Tallulah had a lot of fun too, playing with her cousins and generally enjoying all the little treats of the day. You were glad to see her having fun; you’d been worried she might end up feeling a bit left out in all the fuss over her new siblings. She was very disappointed when you had to leave soon after the meal to get the babies home before their bedtime but she seemed happy enough to spend the rest of the evening watching movies and enjoying her presents.

Your family spent Boxing Day largely doing as little as possible. As always everyone was a bit flat after the excitement of Christmas Day. Except for Tallulah, who was very much looking forward to seeing Roger the next day. He arrived in the afternoon, and came to your house almost immediately to take Tallulah out for afternoon tea. You could tell by the way she was beaming when they returned that she had enjoyed the individual attention. Her expression seemed to highlight her resemblance to her father. Roger was slightly startled when he noticed. “Gosh, I’d never realised how much she takes after me.” “She looks more like you every day lately” you told him. “She’s grown up so much since I saw her last” Roger mused. “Well she is a big sister now” you pointed out. He smiled. “Ah yes. How’s she going with that, by the way?” “Very well, actually” you replied. “I was expecting her to be a bit jealous, but so far she just adores the twins. She loves holding them. Even got them Christmas presents.” Roger smiled with pride. “Well that’s good to hear. Hopefully the adoration continues.” You weren’t convinced it would but you still smiled. “Yeah, hopefully.” 

Roger had booked into a hotel, but he still stayed at your house until well past dinnertime every day of his visit. Tallulah was clearly very appreciative of the time with her father, even if she didn’t say it out loud. The days of Roger’s trip sped by, and suddenly it was New Year’s Eve, again. The day held many happy memories for you, but this year was going to be very different. Joe had called off his traditional party, knowing none of you had the energy for a late night. Instead, you were having a sort of open house afternoon to give all your friends an opportunity to meet Joey and Amber at a time that was easy for your family. Adjusting to looking after twin newborns was exhausting enough without trying to find the energy to organise visits every other day. Of course a few of your close friends had dropped in already, but they were a select group amongst your wider acquaintance.

You were amazed at just how many people showed up to meet the twins and have some lunch with you. Even Gwilym made an appearance. “Surprise!” he declared, grinning widely. “I had some time off, and I’ve been dying to see you all, so here I am.” He was amazed when he got his first glimpse of the twins. “Christ, I thought Ben was exaggerating when he told me how tiny they were.” “Would you believe they’ve already grown since Ben saw them?” Joe asked, beaming with pride. To be fair, they did still look ridiculously small in Gwilym’s arms. “They’re not that tiny now, are they?” Joe asked you in an undertone, as you both watched Gwilym enjoying his first cuddles. You smiled reassuringly. “They’re still a bit on the small side. But Gwil is also a bloody tree of a man, he’s making them look even smaller.” Joe laughed at that. 

Gwilym stayed all afternoon, helping here and there and generally enjoying some rare time with Joe. His relaxed mood seemed to have spread throughout your house that day, though the energy lifted considerably when Rami and Lucy finally arrived. Naturally Gwilym was thrilled to see them both, and they spent a long time lounging on your couches catching up. People gradually started to leave as the afternoon wore on, and eventually they were the only guests left other than Roger. Lucy smiled when she noticed this.

“Now that we’re alone, lovies, we’ve got something for you” she declared. Rami gently handed over a bulging gift bag. “Christmas presents. From all of us” he said softly. You started to protest but he waved it away. “Just open them. There’s something for all of you in there.” Indeed there was. The bag held a number of packages, each containing part of a matching set of red baseball shirts, made to look like the D-backs uniform from Undrafted. Yours and Tallulah’s had your surname on the back; the others were labelled Mazzello. Two of these were very small, although closer to toddler than newborn size. Rami looked apologetic. “That was the smallest we could get.” “Rami, they’re perfect” you reassured him. “They really are” Joe chimed in, sounding rather emotional. “Thanks man.” Lucy smiled. “I told him the important thing was that they matched.” You glanced at Joe, wondering why he was so incredibly touched by the gift. “You’re all on my team” he explained, before you could even open your mouth to speak. “You’re my family, even if you don’t all have my name, you’re all mine.” You smiled. “Honey, of course we’re yours. We’re your team.”    

You were still cuddling Joe when Roger suddenly appeared next to you carrying a couple of parcels. “I brought you a little something too” he said sheepishly. “The top one’s from Brian, by the way.” Joe looked surprised. “Brian sent us a baby gift?” Roger smiled. “Of course. That’s what friends do, you know.” Brian had given the twins a stuffed badger and a fluffy hedgehog. “Just a little reminder of their roots” the card said. You and Joe both laughed. “Brian and his hedgehogs. Typical.” Roger’s parcel contained a pair of onesies. One had a photo of John Deacon printed on the front, while the other featured Freddie Mercury. “I heard her middle name and I just couldn’t resist” he said, grinning mischievously. Joe grinned back. “Thanks Roger, they’re perfect.”

Midnight on New Year’s Eve. In years past you’d enjoyed the ritual of sitting up to watch the fireworks, or going out somewhere in search of a New Year’s kiss. This year, though, all you really wanted was to get some sleep. But of course the twins had other ideas. In the end, midnight found you and Joe sat together on the rocking chair, each soothing a baby back to sleep. Joe’s loving gaze suddenly shifted from his children to you. "Thank you" he said softly. "For what?" you asked. "I always wanted a wife, and kids, but before I met you I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen for me" he explained. "And now you've given me both in a single year." "I suppose I have" you mused. "So, thank you. For giving me everything I've dreamed of" Joe said, kissing you gently. "I love you so, so much." You smiled back. "I love you too, babe." You were both quiet as you tenderly set the twins back in their cribs. “It’s been a good year, hasn’t it?” you mused, as you and Joe returned to your bedroom. “It’s gonna be a hard one to top” Joe agreed. “It’s been magnificent.” And the best part was, it was only the beginning.

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

A/N 2: This is really the end for these guys now, and I’m a little bit sad about that. I’ve got one Tallulah oneshot I want to finish (there’s lots of Freddie in it, it’s a lot of fun) and then I’m going to take a break from this universe (for now anyway) and work on my ‘possible Freddie Mercury descendant’ story. At this point I’m planning on keeping it as a oneshot, but I’ll see how I go. Hopefully it doesn’t take as long as this one did!

Taglist: (send me an ask or dm if you want to be taken off) 

@wandering-at-midnight @fruityfreddie @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @theedwardscollection @bookish-oreo @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224 @closertothesunwhenimwithyou @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr 

(line through means the tag didn’t work)

#though you’re many years away #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #queen imagines #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody movie

[tenroseforeverandever]

The Perfect Blend Chapter 3

Characters: Tenth Doctor (aka James Noble); Rose Tyler; Clara Oswald; Amy Pond; Jeanne Poisson; Donna Noble; Sylvia Noble; Wilfred Mott; Mickey Smith; Martha Jones; Clyde Langer

Tags: Human AU; fake relationship AU; coffee shop AU; stalkerish!Reinette; hurt/comfort; angst; romance; fluff; Christmas; New Year; New Year’s kiss

Story Summary:

Trying to escape from an predatory ex-girlfriend who will not accept their break-up, James Noble (aka The Doctor) finds himself in a coffee shop where he meets a barista (aka Rose Tyler) who makes him the perfect cup of tea and lends a sympathetic ear to his tale of woe.

Chapter Summary: James and Gramps discuss James’ Christmas announcement; and on New Year’s Eve, Clara and Mickey are concerned that Rose is mooning. 

Chapter Notes: Sorry for the wait. Real life is messing with me, right now. I hope the next chapter won’t take quite as long.

As always, a big hug of thanks to @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, for taking precious time out of their lives to beta my work. As always, all mistakes are mine.

Read also at: AO3; Tsp; FF

THE PERFECT BLEND - CHAPTER 3

CHRISTMAS DAY

James trudged up the darkened hillside at the back of the house, carrying a large flask full of tea in one hand and an old car blanket under the opposite arm. He took a long, clean breath of fresh air, relieved to have been able to slip away and leave the hubbub and bickering behind him. Despite the (rather deceptive, he thought) sense of freedom, he was feeling self-conscious, and he hesitated as he approached the old lean-to at the top of the hill.

“You don’t really have a date for the gala, do you son?” Gramps’ voice emanated from the rickety little shelter. “C’mon out from behind there, James. I know it’s you. I’d know those footsteps anywhere. Yours and Donna’s both.”

James couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his face. “I brought some hot tea,” he came around the corner of the lean-to to the familiar sight of Gramps sitting on his tattered, old lawn chair, the box for the new telescope opened before him, “and I thought you might like some help putting your new toy together."

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact both would be very much appreciated.”

James spread the blanket on the ground and knelt on it. He handed the flask to Gramps, pulled the telescope box toward him, and unpacked all the bits in front of him, organizing them and piecing them together.

“I don’t think I’d get through that lot without your help. Thank-you, son.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. You know how I love tinkering with things. And it’s a brilliant evening for stargazing, even if it’s a bit cold. I should have this in working order in no time.” James turned his eyes to the stars and sighed. “It’s always so peaceful up here.”

“Tonight, especially so, I’ll wager.” Gramps took a long sip of tea. “After that bombshell you dropped on that lot.”

James snorted. “Dropped it on myself, if I’m being honest. You were right, I don’t really have a date for the gala. I never planned on taking a date at all. I was just looking forward to meeting with some of my colleagues out of the office and… they’ve asked me to put together a little firework display to bring in the New Year, so I can’t just back out. The Uni wants something spectacular, something special this year. This gala is all about fundraising for the new Medical Sciences wing, after all.”

“Blimey! Pyrotechnics?” Gramps gawped at him. “You’re not creating that yourself, are you? Surely there are all sorts of regulations about that sort of thing.”

“Weeell…” James ran a hand through his hair, “actually, its digital pyrotechnics. I’ve developed a holographic interface to create some 3D fireworks indoors.”  

“I have to admit, I’m a bit relieved to hear that.”

“Oh, there are still plenty of ways for it to go wrong, and if I have to spend the evening fending off her… But don’t worry, it won’t be like the blender… I swear,” he added at the sight of his grandad’s dubious expression. “Besides, I’m collaborating with a bunch of people from Computer Sciences and we’ve already had a few test runs, but I’d like to give it a bit more pizazz. A few tweaks to make it ultra-realistic.

Gramps sighed. “You know the old saying? If it ain’t broke...”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Well, I would never have guessed you knew much about that sort of thing. You’ve never actually studied computer graphics, have you? Never mind something so grand as all that holographic stuff.”

“Nah,” he sniffed a bit boastfully, “but it isn’t really a big leap from the programming I’m doing for my bionics research… Weeell, not that big. Weeell… I’m a quick study.”

“My clever boy! But the question is, if you can’t back out of the gala altogether, what are you going to do about the fireworks currently going off back down there?” He waved an arm in the direction of the house.

James groaned in response. “All the studying in the world won’t help me with that... Oh, here, Gramps, have a look! Your telescope’s ready to go.”

“Oh, blimey, will you take a look at that beauty.” Gramps marvelled at the telescope, rubbing his hands together. “You shouldn’t have spent all that money, though…”

“C’mon… have a look.  There’s Saturn.” James pointed to the sky. “Something easy, first, to get the hang of it. Then the universe is yours to explore.”

They took turns, well into the night, peering through the telescope, sipping hot tea and discussing possible solutions for James’ “French dilemma”, as they’d come to refer to Jeanne.

James reminded himself he had nearly a week before the gala. He was clever and not too bad looking, if he did say so himself, even if he was a “skinny beanpole” by Donna’s assertions. Surely, he wouldn’t have any problem finding a suitable date by New Year’s Eve, someone who would convince Jeanne, once and for all, that he had moved on.

 NEW YEAR’S EVE

The bell jingled above the door, and Rose looked up from where she was clearing a table to greet the latest customer. It was New Year’s Eve and the shop had been busy over the lunch hour as people dropped in to grab a coffee and a bite to eat before heading home to prepare for the evening’s festivities. No matter how busy, she always made a point of trying to welcome everyone with a bright smile whenever she could. It was just good customer service, building loyalty, welcoming her guests. Goodness knew her little shop needed all the help it could get to stave off the competition of the big chain coffeehouses.

But perhaps she’d been trying a little harder than usual over the last week or so, her chest filling with a faint, fluttering hope that, when she looked up at the sound of the bell, it would be to the sight of tousled brown hair and sad, earnest eyes and a request for the best cuppa in London.

But it never was.

And that wisp of hope would fade, drifting away on Rose’s soft sigh, her heart emptying a little more every time.

A wistful smile playing over her lips, she brought the used dishes to the counter. As she passed Clara, who was serving the latest customer, her friend arched her brow at her. Rose ignored the shrewd look and handed the dishes through the passthrough to the young dishwasher who took them from her with an overblown sigh.

“You can go home soon, Clyde. Just do this last load for me, yeah? Then a quick mop of the floor and wipe down those counters, and it’ll be all spic and span, ready for the New Year.”

“You sure, Miss Tyler?”

“Yeah, course. The lunch rush is over. Everyone’s heading home now. I can take care of anything else that comes up.”

“Thanks, Miss Tyler!”

Rose turned back to the service counter where Clara was completing an order of a Peppermint Hot Chocolate with a flourish of whipped cream and candy cane crumbs. She called out the customer’s name, handed them their chocolate, then spun to face Rose. “You’re mooning.”

Rose fixed her with narrowed eyes, shaking her head in a teasing warning. “I am not!” Then, latching on to a perfect way to change the subject, her eyes shot to the clock. “Hey, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”

“Don’t worry. I’m just about to go. The baking’s all set to go for tomorrow.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m not meeting Jenny at the salon for another hour. We’re both going to get our hair and nails done, then we’re going out to bring in the New Year in style.” She winked at Rose.

Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholy. As much as she loved her shop, she sometimes wished she was going out to celebrate, too. But she tried to sound upbeat, for Clara’s sake. “Ooooh, sounds like fun!”

“See, Rose,” Clara offered her perkiest know-it-all smile, “this is one advantage of same-sex relationships. There’s so much extra stuff you can do together. You should seriously consider it. You’re a catch! Better that than mooning after boys.”

(So much for the change of subject…)

“I am not mooning! It’s just a quiet afternoon, yeah. It’s just the letdown after the lunch rush. And, though I know we’ve had this discussion before, I’ll remind you again: I’m not like you. My options remain limited to…” she blew her breath past her lips, and rolled her eyes, “…boys. Such as they are.”

“I suppose… but you have been mooning… for nearly two bloody weeks, ever since that Doctor bloke dropped in.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Shut up!” Rose’s cheeks burned and she forced herself to maintain eye contact with Clara. “I have not.”

“Pu-lease!” Clara chirped over her shoulder as she disappeared into the little staff room. She reappeared a few minutes later, tying the belt of her coat around her waist.

“I’m not mooning,” Rose insisted, failing to hide the slightly petulant tone from her voice.

“Oh, relax,” Clara scoffed gently, as the bell above the door rang again, “I’m just taking the mick.”

“Hey, did someone mention my name?” the familiar voice sounded from the doorway and both girls turned to greet Mickey Smith with wide smiles.

“Only in jest,” Clara quipped.

Mickey stuck out his tongue at her. “See if I ever cover a shift for you again!”

Everyone laughed and Rose piped up, “Oh, you can’t stay away. Not when you get to spend New Year’s Eve with me.”

“You’re right, there, babe.” Mickey gave Rose a soft, friendly peck on the cheek as he walked past her to the staff room. “Although,” he called out through the door, “Martha might have something to say about that.”

Mickey was Rose’s oldest and closest friend. She had known him literally all her life. He was a few years older than her, and they had grown up on Powell Estate together. They’d even dated a few years back but had quickly realized they were destined only to be the best of friends. Being lovers hadn’t worked for them, much to Rose’s mum’s chagrin. Jackie Tyler had chided Rose about getting airs and graces, thinking herself above dating a mechanic. It had taken a firm word from Mickey to get her to listen to reason, although she still lamented from time to time that Rose would end up an old maid.

That had been years ago, and now Mickey was dating a young surgeon, Martha Jones, who worked at the local hospital. They had met when she had brought her car to him to be repaired and had hit it off right away. A year later, he’d asked her to marry him. Rose, who had rapidly befriended Martha, was thrilled for them both.

Mickey often came to Pete’s Coffee Dimension, after work at the garage, to help out and to make sure Rose, Clara, and the other employees had time for a dinner break. He often stayed the evening, chatting, when Martha was working a night shift. Tonight, he was covering Clara’s shift, so she could have the evening off with Jenny. Martha was on call at the hospital and would be dropping by later, if she was free, to ring in the New Year with her fiancé and Rose.

“Right then, I’m off,” Clara announced, “now that you’re here to help hold down the fort, Micks. But I should warn you,” she grinned, gesturing toward Rose with a jab of her thumb, “this one is mooning…”

“Oh, what’s this then? Mooning? You’re going to be a right misery all night, ain’t ya?”

Rose snapped her arms over her chest. “You,” she fixed Clara with a fierce glare, “are going to be late. And for the record,” she turned her glare on Mickey, “I am not mooning! End of story.”

“All right, all right!” he held his hands up defensively. “You’re not mooning. Blimey! Don’t kill me. Not a great way to start the New Year, yeah?”

“’M not gonna kill ya.” Rose drew Mickey in for a hug, then turned to Clara, pulling her in for a hug too. “Happy New Year, you. Thanks for looking out for me, both of you. Now off you go, Clara. Wish Jenny a happy New Year for us, yeah?”

“Definitely! Happy New Year!” Clara cheered, giving Rose and Mickey a last big squeeze and calling through the passthrough to Clyde before heading toward the door. “Give my love to Martha.” She gave a parting wave and backed out onto the street, the bell tinkling behind her.

 The shop remained quiet, a few customers straggling in through the afternoon. Clyde had long since left and Martha had texted to say she would be by shortly. Rose glanced up at the clock: just gone three.

“So, babe,” Mickey fixed Rose with narrowed eyes, “I have to agree with Clara: you’re not quite yourself. Deny it all you like, you are mooning. Not after some bloke, is it?”

Rose groaned.

“It is!”

“Look, I’m just feeling a little, I dunno…” she shrugged, “…not exactly sad, but jus’…”

“Mooning.”

She smiled. “It would just be nice to have someone special to share the holidays with, ya know? To dress up and go out somewhere nice. I love the shop, I mean… it’s my life, my dream. But it would be good to get out once in a while.” She leaned back against the counter and laid her head on Mickey’s shoulder, as he wrapped a comforting arm around her.

“You’ll find someone.”

“Yeah, maybe. No one as good as you, though.”

“You kidding me? I was a rubbish boyfriend… at least to you. I hope I’m doin’ okay with Mar.”

“She thinks you’re bloody wonderful. But us,” she nudged him with an elbow, “we were just never good together like that. To me, you’ve always been a lovely friend, a big brother, yeah. Always there when I need you. But sometimes, I just feel like I want someone to be a bit more than a friend. I’m just afraid…”

“That you’ll end up with another–”

“Yeah, Jimmy Stone…”

Mickey growled, “If I ever get my hands on that tosser… how he treated you…”

“Enough,” she shoved him a little, knocking him off balance, “you’ll scare away all the customers, looking all aggressive-like.”

“Like there are so many of those…”

She frowned at him, unimpressed.

“Fine…” He grudgingly relaxed, and Rose snuggled against him again. After a few quiet moments, he spoke again, “So tell me about this bloke?”

“What bloke?”

“The one that you’re mooning over. You can’t lie to me, babe, I know there’s someone…”

“Not really…”

“C’mon! Give.”

“There’s nothing to tell you. I hardly know him. It was just… a feeling… he seemed sweet. That’s all. But I’ve only ever seen him the once.”

“And…”

Rose shrugged. “He was nice, but waaaay out of my league. Working on his third Ph.D.”

“An older man! Shit, Rose!”

“No, no! He looks like he’s only a couple of years older than me,” Rose giggled. “I don’t think he’s even thirty. He’s just really clever. Says he’s a genius. Like I said, out of my league. Not that it matters. He’s only come in the once.”

“Wait a minute! This isn’t that… erm… what was it… Doctor-bloke who went gaga over your cup of tea, was it?”

Rose flushed, biting her thumb.

“It him, isn’t it? Clara told me about him. Said you thought he was a bit fit.”

“It was none of Clara’s business! Nothing happened. I don’t even know his proper name and he doesn’t know mine. So, it don’t matter, yeah.”

“Well, he’s an idiot if he didn’t bother to come back and get it, that’s all I can say. Not worth all the mooning.”

Rose opened her mouth to say something more, but at that moment the bell jingling heralded another customer entering the shop.

 About an hour later, Mickey huffed to himself as he wiped down the tables. Martha had arrived a little while ago, given him a quick peck on the cheek, and then she and Rose had disappeared into the kitchen ostensibly to get a start on a thorough New Year’s cleaning… but Mickey knew what really was going on was a good old gossip. Either way, it left him as the front man, taking care of the customers who occasionally wandered into the shop.

The bell chimed above the door. Mickey gave the table he was tending to one last wipe and looked up to greet the man who burst into the shop on a cold blast of wintery air from the street. “’Lo,” Mickey said, “Happy New Year, mate! What can I get you? Something to go?”

The man looked frantic. Even his hair looked frantic. He dragged a hand through it, making it stand up even more on end. “No… erm… no thanks. For here, please. I think I’d like to stay here for a bit.” He loosened the black bow tie at his neck, leaving the ends to dangle, and unfastened the top button of his shirt. “Blimey, that’s a bit better. Always feel trapped in a tux… unluckiest suit in the world. Never liked ‘em… Nothing good ever came from wearing a tux.” This time, he ran both hands through his hair.

“Yeah, mate, I get it. I don’t like a monkey suit much either. Look, take a seat and I’ll bring you a menu, but to be honest, you look like you need something a bit stronger than a posh coffee.”

Mickey left to grab a menu from the stand at the front of the service counter and returned to the man, who had seated himself at a table by the window. His legs were jittering with nervous energy. He took the menu from Mickey and glanced over it with glazed eyes.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he looked up from the menu. “Just putting off the inevitable. My life is over after tonight.”

“Mate, you have a brand-new year coming up! New opportunities. How bad can it be, yeah?”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t show up with a date to the Uni Gala… she’ll…” he spat out the word, “she’ll… Fuck! I’m doomed.” He slumped over the table.

“I’m sorry, man. Wish I could help.”

“No,” the man straightened up, “I’m sorry.” He looked down at the menu again. “I’ll have… hmmm… I’ll have… You know what I need… I need a cup of tea. It did wonders the last time I was here.”

“I can do that! Nothing like a good cuppa, yeah? Oh, blimey, my best friend, Rose (she own’s this place!); well, her mum is known for making the best cuppa, and taught Rose everything she knows. But,” Mickey added conspiratorially, “I honestly think Rose makes it even better. But don’t tell her mum I said so… she’d flay me alive.”

“Rose?” The man’s expression relaxed as he muttered the name, a small smile toying with his lips. “Her name is Rose…”

This man was a bit odd, Mickey thought. Not a bad sort, just a bit odd. “Can I get your name for the order then?”

“Oh, right!” He broke out of his daze. “My name, of course. The Doctor.”

“The Doctor…” Mickey repeated slowly. The name was so familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yup! That’s me! Just ‘The Doctor’. It’s easier that way. My real name’s quite common.”

“The Doctor…” Mickey mulled the name around in his mind again, and suddenly all the pieces fell into place. “Wait! You’re the Doctor! The Doctor who was in here a few days before Christmas. You ordered a cup of tea, yeah?”

The Doctor quirked a suspicious left eyebrow at Mickey. “Yeeess… a brilliant cup of tea. What about it?”

“Oh, mate! You said need a date for tonight?” Mickey had never considered himself to be much of a matchmaker. If he was being honest, it would never normally have crossed his mind. He was much more of a live-and-let-live sort of bloke. But this time, it was Rose’s happiness at stake, and when it came to ensuring Rose’s happiness, there were no holds barred.

“Erm… yes… yeah… but, it’s too late. I’m never going to find a date at this time. I told you, I’m doomed.”

“Nah, not tonight, you’re not. Mate, I think I may just have the answer to all of your problems!”

#ten x rose #ficandchips #human au #fake dating #coffee shop #stalkerish ex #romance #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #christmas #new year #new year's kiss #tenroseforeverandever's fic

[imageoftumult]

Villaneve MBTI Personality Types

Let’s start with Villanelle. She was kind of difficult because she also has the psychopath thing going for her but I think she’s ISTP, the Virtuoso. I don’t want to make this post too long so I’m just going to pull some quotes from various sites and let you guys infer for yourselves.

“I wanted to live the life, a different life. I didn’t want to go to the same place every day and see the same people and do the same job. I wanted interesting challenges.” - Harrison Ford (a fellow ISTP)

“ISTPs are mysterious people who are usually very rational and logical, but also quite spontaneous and enthusiastic. They are often capable of humorously insightful observations about the world around them.”

“ISTPs are attentive to details and responsive to the demands of the world around them. Because of their astute sense of their environment, they are good at moving quickly and responding to emergencies. ISTPs are reserved, but not withdrawn: the ISTP enjoys taking action, and approaches the world with a keen appreciation for the physical and sensory experiences it has to offer.”

“ISTP traits include a penchant for problem-solving, cool pragmatism, and eager curiosity.”

“ISTPs are adventurous and independent. They are fearless and thrive on challenging situations. They are gifted problem solvers. Their mechanical and technical nature enables them to operate many kinds of tools and instruments. They are proud of their relatively effortless ability to acquire many skills. They seek freedom and are typically unemotional.”

“Easily bored, they’re always looking for something new and exciting to do. Sometimes this means they’re drawn to high-risk situations that give them a thrill. Because they react quickly and are tuned into their surroundings, they likely have a better chance than some others of beating the odds.”

“They enjoy when someone takes an interest in their projects, because it creates a shared experience.”

“At times, they’re steady and consistent, plodding along the path they’ve laid out for themselves. But other times, they’re completely spontaneous, making them a bit unpredictable. It’s like an energy builds up within them, and when it hits its tipping point, it explodes without warning — often launching them fearlessly in new directions.”

“An adventurous romantic partner, they’ll never “grow stale” — they’re always surprising their beloved with new experiences, especially sensual ones that invite fun and pleasure.”

“When it comes to relationships, they may be a bit hard to nail down, alternating between detachment and passion.”

“ISTPs enjoy working with their hands and having a day that’s full of variety and action.”

“ ISTPs are very direct and say what they mean. They sometimes have difficulty with emotionally charged situations or conversations. They do not read between the lines and do not understand why others do.”

“They enjoy having other people take an interest in their projects and sometimes don’t even mind them getting into their space. Of course, that’s on the condition that those people don’t interfere with their principles and freedom, and they’ll need to be open to the ISTP returning the interest in kind.”

“Friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, ISTP personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. They can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.”

“Their decisions stem from a sense of practical realism, and at their heart is a strong sense of direct fairness, a “do unto others” attitude, which really helps to explain many of their puzzling traits. Instead of being overly cautious though, avoiding stepping on toes in order to avoid having their toes stepped on, they are likely to go too far, accepting likewise retaliation, good or bad, as fair play.”

“The biggest issue ISTPs are likely to face is that they often act too soon, taking for granted their permissive nature and assuming that others are the same. They’ll be the first to tell an insensitive joke, get overly involved in someone else’s project, roughhouse and play around, or suddenly change their plans because something more interesting came up.”

“Combining spontaneity with logic, they can switch mindsets to fit new situations with little effort, making them flexible and versatile individuals.”

“This flexibility comes with some unpredictability, but ISTP personalities are able to store their spontaneity for a rainy day, releasing their energy just when it’s needed most.”

“With all this hands-on creativity and spontaneity, it’s no wonder that they are naturals in crisis situations. People with this personality type usually enjoy a little physical risk, and they aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty when the situation calls for it.”

“Through all this, they are able to stay quite relaxed. They live in the moment and go with the flow, refusing to worry too much about the future.”

“As easily as they go with the flow, they can also ignore it entirely, and usually move in another direction with little apology or sensitivity. If someone tries to change their habits, lifestyle or ideas through criticism, they can become quite blunt in their irritation.”

“They use logic, and even when they try to meet others halfway with empathy and emotional sensitivity, it rarely seems to quite come out right, if anything is even said at all.”

“This stubbornness, difficulty with others’ emotions, focus on the moment, and easy boredom can lead to unnecessary and unhelpful boundary-pushing, just for fun. ISTPs have been known to escalate conflict and danger just to see where it goes, something that can have disastrous consequences for everyone around if they lose control of the situation.”

Characteristic of an ISTP

Adaptable

Logical

Independent

Active

Adventurous

Problem solver

Self-reliant

Analytical

Technical

Practical

Unemotional

Flexible

Impersonal

Logical

Concrete

Realistic

Direct

Fearless

Positive

Handy

Objective

Hands-on

Damn, that’s long. Oh well, to Eve. Eve is an INTJ, or The Mastermind.

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”– Friedrich Nietzsche (a fellow INTJ)

“The INTJ is logic-driven personality type with a talent for solving problems and a focus on accomplishing goals. INTJs are capable of forecasting far out into the future with an astonishing level of accuracy. Perhaps the only area where an INTJ doesn’t seem to be able to predict the future is in their own personal lives; INTJs rarely factor their emotions or happiness into a plan, and can find themselves locked into careers, relationships, or patterns that they no longer enjoy.”

“INTJs tend to be critical-minded, blunt, and focused on getting results.”

“You’ve always known you’re meant for something bigger than punching in at a 9-to-5 job to pay the bills. You want to use your capabilities to do something that matters—and to have real accomplishments.”

“You’re a completely different person when you’re with close friends than you are with everyone else. You can be goofy, charismatic and outrageously funny, but remain very reserved with people who aren’t in your “inner circle.””

“When you’re feeling down, and a loved one tries to soothe you with comforting words, you pull away like they’re offering you a poisonous snake.”

“When someone asks which is more important to you, having an interesting job or having a meaningful job, you’re like, wait, I thought those were the same thing.”

“ You’re great at making life plans, but somehow you always manage to overlook how your emotional state will affect those life plans—or why that’s even important. Getting even a kindergarten-level education in your own emotions feels like you discovered profound truths about the world.”

“No matter what you do, you never feel like you’ve accomplished enough. This is what propels you toward great things, but it also leaves you feeling perpetually critical of yourself and your achievements. There’s always something bigger you feel like you should be on top of.”

“Few things will make an INTJ angrier than a boss or authority figure that seems undeserving of their position. If they see a person in charge that does not appear to think through their actions, avoids making decisions, or only seems to have gotten where they are through blatant self-promotion, it will be very difficult for an INTJ to keep their mouth shut. Above all else, these thinkers value brilliance, self-confidence, and the ability to make firm, effective decisions.”

“It’s not that INTJs don’t care. If you’re in their life, they definitely care about what you’re going through. Feelings just make them nervous, and the more they try to take emotions into account, usually the worse they do at pleasing other people. INTJs do feel, but they tend to take a pragmatic approach to their emotions, trying to optimize their lives and relationships based on what they can immediately control. They also expect the people in their lives to try to behave rationally.”

“Playing by the rules is not very important to INTJs. Give them a list of rules and they may endlessly question you, bend the rules, and even break them if they see a better way. INTJs are always innovating and tweaking. If they don’t have the opportunity to do that, they’ll be very, very, unhappy — and you’ll probably hear about it.”

“Obviously, routine tasks are not looking good for this personality type. INTJs are easily bored with process work and are not good at paper-pushing. They might, say, go to the gym, but only after they’ve created the best, most research-backed and efficient way of working out. Groceries, clothing, cooking, anything routine, will never be done the same way every day — if at all. Or they’ll delegate these tasks.”

“INTJs are private, independent and self-confident. They strive for perfection and achievement. They are gifted strategists with analytical, conceptual and objective minds. They are flexible and like to formulate contingency plans. Strategists are able to see the reasons behind things.”

“The INTJ personality type’s signature strength is deep perception. Otherwise known as “the mastermind,” the INTJ is naturally attuned to “the big picture” and cannot help but see how everything is interconnected. Their ability to perceive deep patterns and causal relationships has helped many achieve eminence.”

“They are typically independent and selective about their relationships, preferring to associate with people who they find intellectually stimulating.”

“People with this personality type are imaginative yet decisive, ambitious yet private, amazingly curious, but they do not squander their energy.”

“A paradox to most observers, INTJs are able to live by glaring contradictions that nonetheless make perfect sense – at least from a purely rational perspective. For example, they are simultaneously the most starry-eyed idealists and the bitterest of cynics, a seemingly impossible conflict. But this is because INTJ personalities tend to believe that with effort, intelligence and consideration, nothing is impossible, while at the same time they believe that people are too lazy, short-sighted or self-serving to actually achieve those fantastic results. Yet that cynical view of reality is unlikely to stop an interested INTJ from achieving a result they believe to be relevant.”

“INTJs radiate self-confidence and an aura of mystery, and their insightful observations, original ideas and formidable logic enable them to push change through with sheer willpower and force of personality.”

“Rules, limitations and traditions are anathema to the INTJ personality type – everything should be open to questioning and reevaluation, and if they see a way, they will often act unilaterally to enact their technically superior, sometimes insensitive, and almost always unorthodox methods and ideas.”

“They are brilliant and confident in bodies of knowledge they have taken the time to understand, but unfortunately the social contract is unlikely to be one of those subjects.”

“They are defined by their tendency to move through life as though it were a giant chess board, pieces constantly shifting with consideration and intelligence, always assessing new tactics, strategies and contingency plans, constantly outmaneuvering their peers in order to maintain control of a situation while maximizing their freedom to move about.”

“If something piques their interest, INTJ personalities can be astonishingly dedicated to their work, putting in long hours and intense effort to see an idea through.”

“INTJ personalities are perfectly capable of carrying their confidence too far, falsely believing that they’ve resolved all the pertinent issues of a matter and closing themselves off to the opinions of those they believe to be intellectually inferior. Combined with their irreverence for social conventions, they can be brutally insensitive in making their opinions of others all too clear.”

“They tend to have complete confidence in their thought process, because rational arguments are almost by definition correct – at least in theory. In practice, emotional considerations and history are hugely influential, and a weak point for people with the INTJ personality type is that they brand these factors and those who embrace them as illogical, dismissing them and considering their proponents to be stuck in some baser mode of thought, making it all but impossible to be heard.”

“Above all else, INTJs want to be able to tackle intellectually interesting work with minimal outside interference, no more, no less.”

Characteristic of an INTJ

Analytical

Structured

Objective

Introspective

Perfectionist

Attentive

Controlled

Private

Responsible

Self-confident

Thick-skinned

Quiet

Determined

Independent

Impersonal

Theoretical

Intense

Strategic

Adaptable

Complex

Conceptual

Disciplined

Deliberate

Abstract

What do you guys think? Agree? Disagree? Praise me or fight me, idc. Just join the conversation. 

Cheers,

An INTP. Part 2 & Part 3

#killing eve #sorry it's so long #but not really #i love mbti #read it #i'm right