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acknowledge-reigns · 6 months

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No Yeet (Roman Reigns x Fem!OC SMUT) 18+

Description: Roman hates the word yeet. His bratty sub loves to push his buttons.

Warnings: Dom/sub dynamic, bratty sub, pet names (babygirl, princess, baby. Lil, short for Lilith...), light degradation (use of the word slut), orgasm control and denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing, begging, edging, spanking, aftercare, fluff at the end, tiny bits of angst if you squint.

Kayfabe compliant. This is a story about Roman, not Joe.

18+!!!! MDNI!!!!

Face claim is Megan Thee Stallion.

See my other stories here.

It had been a couple of months now since the press conference where Jey and Cody had affectionately been dubbed 'team yeet' by the fans, due to Jey's obsessive ussage of the word and getting even Cody, although in a drunken state at the time, on the 'yeet' train as well. It was like overnight the word was re popularized, amongst the WWE Universe and the wrestlers in the locker room at least.

Two Months. Eight weeks of hearing that damn word non stop. Roman had lost count of the amount of times he's yelled at Jimmy not to say yeet, simply explaining "I don't like that".

That explanation was a hell of a lot easier than the deeper reasoning.

He missed Jey. His little cousin, his right hand man. While Roman refused to admit that he was in anyway jealous of Cody, he refused to utter that word. That word was a symbol of betrayal. Of his cousin leaving him and aligning with the enemy.

A lot has happened as of late. More recruits to the bloodline. Specifically a newly signed Lilith "The Vixen" Obsidian.

Fresh out of the independent circuit but with plenty of experience, Lilith knew what she was doing. Not just that but she practically grew up with Roman and The Usos. They had been close childhood friends. She and Roman had shared their first kiss, went to prom together and so much more.

There was never a question of where her loyalties lie. The two had gone their seperate ways after high school with no hard feelings at all. They just wanted different things in life at the time. Roman was pursuing football, and Lilith was ready to begin a wrestling career.

Fast forward and years later, Lilith couldn't have gotten signed to WWE at a more perfect time. With the bloodline's rivals growing more powerful by the day something had to he done.

The minute Rhea Ripley sat in Roman's locker room and said for Paul, Roman's Wiseman, to acknowledge her.. That was when Roman knew it was time to make the call. Lilith of course eagerly agreed to join the bloodline and handle any potential drama and disrespect from Rhea. And things grew from there.

Feelings were quickly rekindled. It started as a one night thing. Roman needed to blow off some steam, Lilith was ready and willing. So they had sex. From there it moved on to friends with benefits. Any time either of them were in need of pleasure, the other was one call away.

It continued to grow though until eventually Roman asked Lilith to be his girlfriend. And she said yes.

Roman sat in the chair in his locker room, Lilith perched in his lap playing with his long gorgeous mane.

"Yeet" Jimmy says

"I already told you, I don't like that." Roman snapped. To be fair he was already frustrated as hell with LA Knight of all people having the audacity to challenge him. And he'd hurt his finger in the process of the scuffle with that nobody, to say he was in a pissy mood was an understatement.

Lilith though, ever the brat didn't miss a beat seeing the look on his face. She looks directly in his eyes with a challenging smirk.

"Yeet" Lilith says as if daring him. You could hear a pin drop in that locker room.

"Everybody but Lilith, out. NOW." Roman's voice boomed. Lilith giggled, clearly amused with herself as Solo, Jimmy and Paul quickly headed out of the room at the tribal chief's command.

As the door closes, Roman faces Lilith. With a determined look on his face, he takes a step towards her, his dominant aura emanating from every pore. Lilith's eyes widen slightly.

Roman firmly grabs Lilith's wrist, his grip both gentle and commanding. Lilith's heart races, her bratty facade crumbling under the weight of Roman's dominance.

Standing in front of her, Roman leans in, his voice low and authoritative. "Now babygirl, I know you know better than breaking your tribal chief's rules." he spoke.

Roman maintains his dominant stance, his eyes locked with Lilith's as he contemplates the appropriate punishment for her bratty behavior. He smirks, sensing her nervous anticipation.

With deliberate slowness, Roman reaches out and gently brushes a strand of Lilith's hair behind her ear, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. He leans in closer, his warm breath grazing against her earlobe as he whispers, "You know, I think you need a reminder of who's in control here."

Roman's hand trails down Lilith's neck, his fingertips grazing her collarbone, before slowly sliding underneath her shirt. His touch is both firm and tender, igniting a mixture of pleasure and anticipation within her.

Roman's eyes gleam with a mix of mischief and dominance. He leans in, his lips grazing against her earlobe, his warm breath tickling her skin yet again. "You've been a very naughty girl, Lilith," he murmurs, his voice dripping with a potent mixture of authority and desire.

"You remember your Safeword, Princess?" Roman asks.

"Oreo" Lilith stated.

"Good girl." Roman responds as his hands move lower, skimming over the curve of Lilith's waist before slipping underneath the waistband of her pants. His touch is tantalizingly light as he traces circles along her hip bones, teasing but never fully satisfying her growing need. Each touch leaves her craving more, her body yearning for release. Once he pulls his hand away, he relievers delivers two quick slaps to her ass.

He leans back slightly, his eyes locked with hers, relishing in the sight of her desperation. "You see, Lilith, I am the one who decides when and how you receive pleasure, I'm the one who makes all the decisions around here." he says, his voice a low growl.

Roman's lips curl into a smug smile "You want my touch, don't you, Lilith?" he whispers, "You're craving it, yearning for it. But you gotta learn, babygirl." he muttered.

Roman's fingers trail along the edge of Lilith's pants again, teasingly close to where she desires him the most. He watches as her breath quickens, her eyes pleading for his touch. However, he remains steadfast, denying her the relief she so desperately seeks.

"Tell me, Lilith," Roman continues, his voice dripping with authority. "Tell me how much you need me. Beg for my touch."

Lilith's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and desire as she hesitates for a moment before complying with Roman's command. With a trembling voice, she whispers, "Please, my tribal chief... I need you. I need your touch. Please."

Roman's grip tightens ever so slightly on her waist, his dominance palpable. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. "But I'm not finished with you. Strip." he added.

Roman watches with lustful eyes as Lilith begins to strip for him immediately. He couldn't help but grin, she probably thought he was going to let her cum. She would be wrong.

For the next couple of hours He pushes her to the brink of climax repeatedly, only to deny her release.

With a calculated touch, Roman continues to tease Lilith's body, his fingers tracing a maddening path along her sensitive skin. He brings her to the edge of climax, skillfully manipulating her pleasure until she's on the verge of losing control.

Just as Lilith's body trembles with anticipation, Roman withdraws his touch, denying her the satisfaction she craves. A whimper escapes her lips, a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her eyes plead with him, silently begging for release. She was laid back on the couch, her legs spread wide displaying her glistening pussy and allowing his fingers and mouth to work their magic.

He continues to repeat the tantalizing cycle, each time bringing her closer to the edge before abruptly stopping. The waves of arousal crash over Lilith again and again, intensifying her desire and driving her to the brink of madness

"You're mine, Lilith," he whispers as his fingers pump in and out of her pussy with a steady rhythm. "Your pleasure, your release, everything belongs to ME."

Lilith's breath quickens, her body yearning for release. "Please" she whimpered and begged.

"You think you can defy me and still expect pleasure? Nah, princess. Not today." He chuckled.

"Look at you," Roman continues. "Pleading for release like a desperate little slut." he says as he denies Lilith release time and time again, "MY desperate little slut."

Roman slowly and sensually explores Lilith's body, his touch becoming more intimate and passionate. He pays meticulous attention to her responses, ensuring her pleasure reaches its peak.

"You can cum for me now, babygirl." Roman says as Lilith's arousal builds under Roman's skilled ministrations, he carefully listens to her body, attuned to her every moan and whimper. He knows exactly when she reaches the point of no return, when her pleasure is on the cusp of overwhelming her.

With a final flick of his tongue against overly sensitive clit, Roman pushes Lilith over the edge, allowing her to climax with a wave of intense pleasure that echoes through her entire being.

Roman grins, his beard still glistening with her juices as he lifted her gently into his arms and sat again with her in his lap.

With a tender touch, Roman runs his fingers through Lilith's hair. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin. "You did beautifully, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

Roman wraps his arms around Lilith, pulling her close to his muscular chest, offering her warmth and security. He gently rocks her back and forth, creating a soothing rhythm that helps her unwind from the heightened sensations.

As they bask in the afterglow, Roman peppers Lilith's skin with light kisses, his lips tracing a path of tenderness along her neck and shoulder. He murmurs words of reassurance and comfort, reminding her that she is cherished and loved.

"So, what's your problem with.. that word?" Lilith asked curiously, refraining from repeating the word that had led to her punishment in the first place.

"I don't want to be reminded of how I messed things up with Jey." Roman stated honestly. Lilith was the one person he could share his true emotion with.

"Ro, you know you could try talking to him. Apologizing. He'll forgive you." Lilith encouraged.

"I can't be seen as weak. That makes the bloodline vulnerable." Roman said.

"Baby, you are anything but weak. And whatever decision you make, I'm gonna be right here along for the ride." Lilith assured him.

"I love you, Lil." Roman says.

"I love you too." Lilith smiled as she kissed him.

#No Yeet 😂#idk inspiration struck #this is filth and im proud of it #roman reigns #the tribal chief #roman reigns fic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x oc #www Roman Reigns #head of the table #the head of the table #the only one #wwe the bloodline #the bloodline

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absolutebl · 4 months

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Hello - I was Googling Thai honorifics and was directed to your incredibly comprehensive post from a few years ago. Thanks so much for such detailed explanations. I had a quick question with regards to the use of "hia." You mentioned that it's used by people of Chinese descent. Does the one using it - to use a "real life" example, Sea calls Jimmy Hia - have to be Chinese or is it acceptable if only one of the party is?

The boy being called hia has Chinese ancestry.

Because this is an elder honorific, that use will be dictated by the person it's used on.

In other words, the hia-in-question would extend an invitation for hia's use, either implied (most common) or actual out right demand (see Between Us.)

What I mean is.

Because hia is honor coded up (to be used by a social inferior on a social superior) the elder merely has to use hia as the I pronoun on himself, and the youngster will know it is okay to use hia as a the you pronoun going forward. Until then, he will stick to phi or khun.

Incidentally, this is ALSO often done with phi, although it usually happens really quickly and without too much negotiation. If told to use phi, the younster usually will. We don't often see it negotiated on screen in a BL. (Exception: Day in SOTUS S.)

Since hia is a little more intimate, and you need to know if the person has Chinese ancestry, its use is usually established through some kind of social due process.

To be fair, IRL meeting someone new for the first time, phi and its use is also somewhat jockeyed about and negotiated.

It took a friend of mine half a decade before they tentatively asked if they could use phi on their wife's favorite cousin. This is a person we hung out with regularly. But they are the youngest of the group, and the cousin had yet to explicitly invite the use of phi, so they had waited years. It was me who was all, "why no phi?" and the cousin was like, oh yes, you SHOULD use phi, why haven't you?

Personalities make a big difference in a timeline of formality and intimacy.

As I am sure you know in your own friendship groups.

I should add, please tonally be wary or using hia yourself, even if invited, unless you have a really good grasp of Thai tones. Because hia with a different emphasis/tone is an VERY bad word.

Phi also is tonally challenging, since phi is also ghost/spirit. Usually malevolent. So if you say it wrong, you're calling your elder a poltergeist.

Just stick to khun. Much safer.

#asked and answered #thai honorifics #thai bl #between us #use of hia

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mitochondriaandbunnies · 6 months

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Miami Vice S1E16: Smuggler's Blues

Sonny and Rico fly to Colombia with Eagles frontman Glenn Frey.

The first time I watched this one was before I'd watched Wiseguy, so I don't think I had much of an opinion about Glenn Frey other than TAKE IT EEEEEASY, TAKE IT EEEEEEASY

Anyway I actually really like him as an actor and I think he does a great job of playing a super burnt out aging hippie Vietnam vet here

This is also the second (and unfortunately the second to last) episode directed by my best pal Paul Michael Glaser, so it's thoughtful and well-paced and fairly homoerotic, which is all one really needs for a solid Vice episode

The DEA does not come off well at all in this episode:

Sonny tells a callous and "results oriented" DEA agent who blames casualties on the "politics of contraband" that "the politics of contraband does not involve killing children," and then straight up calls him a fascist

And later a Rico expresses a sense of surprise that they're involved in such "a big operation, moving people to Cartagena," and a DEA agent responds with "not people, just you two"

...which is all fair because the DEA is terrible, although we're still in the portion of the series where (Sonny especially believes) "regular cops" are still positioned as good, so a bit of pot-kettle going on there

Trudy SO wants to go to Cartagena and make a drug deal but the DEA agent tells her she is staying in Miami and posing as Rico's wife. : (

We'll see later in Prodigal Son that PMG is really good at directing Don Johnson, but it's very clear in this episode that he's also extremely good with Philip Michael Thomas

There's a bunch of moments in this one that are very Starsky & Hutch -- the fight in the alley could literally be ripped from an S&H episode, and the later scene where Sonny and Rico have a wordless conversation in matching doorways feels very S&H as well

The lyrics to the Glenn Frey song Smuggler's Blues straight up narrate part of the episode, to the point where it feels a little silly. Trudy sure does have a suitcase when you're singing about suitcases

We don't get to see if their hotel room only has one bed but I like to believe

So. I think this is the episode where Sonny, who is very good at ignoring his own feelings and refusing to process anything, suddenly realizes that he might care about Rico More Than Is Normal or Acceptable. When Tubbs is captured by the Colombian police, he lets him go fairly quickly, and without pushing back too much on Jimmy-- until they get back to the hotel. He doesn't freak out until he has the time and space to process, and then he snaps. Jimmy asks if he's going to just take on the entire Colombian police force, and Sonny says 'maybe,' and he tries to strangle Jimmy. When he calms down, and Jimmy offers him a cigarette, he breaks the filter off. And then as he and Jimmy sit and discuss loss, Sonny genuinely looks like he is (and frankly he could be) crying. He tells Jimmy that Rico is the one guy he's "gotta wait for," and then when Rico gets out of jail, he sees that Jimmy has left and Sonny has completely trashed the hotel room.

You know.

Normal coworker kind of behavior.

Thank you PMG for always supporting your loyal queers

There is an unremarked upon and incredibly ominous small boy who follows Grocero (the drug dealer) around throughout the episode, and I'm sure the intention is something-something the way the drug trade fucks up kids bla bla BUT what it actually comes off as is just. David Lynch Red Room shit. Haunted child.

When Trudy is captured later and Castillo is deciding who is going to try to defuse the bomb she's strapped to, twice Gina asks for it to be her, and twice the entire rest of the team ignores her. It's a really interesting little moment, especially coupled with the DEA agent shutting down Trudy's desire to go to Colombia earlier-- Gina and Trudy are often given short shrift, but it's not usually remarked upon. These lines didn't need to be included-- Gina and Trudy could've just been excluded from the missions as they often are-- but instead this episode actually highlights the ways they're sometimes dismissed and prevented from fully participating in things the men of Vice are never questioned on. I'm not 100% certain, but from what I recall this may be the only time this tendency is lampshaded in this way-- I suspect because this episode was written by Miguel Piñero, which is to say: Calderone himself.

Piñero was a playwright and poet known for piercing portrayals of modern society and its ills (especially with regards to the treatment of Black and Hispanic populations). He died very young, but in that time was nominated for or received a number of prestigious writing awards and helped found the Nuyorican art movement. I do not think it's a coincidence that this man saw some things (Vice's iffy track record with women, the abject uselessness and evil of the DEA, even the portrayal of the Colombian police captain not as corrupt but desperate) more clearly than many of the other writers on the show. It's also worth noting that Piñero was bisexual, and in a relationship with gay painter Martin Wong at the likely time of writing this episode-- which is to say I don't think Sonny's "oh. Oh no." moment about Rico ought to be brushed off as "straight writer accidentally makes something homoerotic because they don't think or care about women."

Tubbs blesses himself when he hears that Sonny and Trudy are okay-- he is not generally portrayed as particularly religious, but he probably had a Catholic upbringing, given his background, and it feels like a very real reaction.

The episode ends with Tubbs waxing philosophical about why anyone would do any of this shit and deciding that "the bottom line is money," and Castillo agreeing, "usually is." That's it folks! That's the show!

So uh. Is Jimmy dead

I know in a later episode some other smuggler will be like "yeah Jimmy told me all about you guys" to Sonny and Rico but like. Someone forgot to wrap up Glenn Frey's storyline here

He gets shot and then we just never see him again

R(?)IP Jimmy

#miami vice #miami vice s1 #s1e16 #smuggler's blues #sonny crockett #rico tubbs #my gifs #glenn frey #miguel pinero

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tweedlebugged · 1 year

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Squinting at the latest dndads episode suspiciously and poking it with a stick. Because on the one hand, it definitely feels like something sus is going on under the surface here and Anthony’s going to pull the rug out any minute now.

On the other, this is a show called Dungeons and Daddies and you kind of have to accept on admission that the characters can and will twist the logical rules of the universe into a pretzel in service of a really good goof. So there’s no way to tell right now what seems a little weird For the Drama and what seems a little weird For the Bit.

Take Jodie. Last season he was this badass demon and objectively the most put together dad, and now he’s this kind of pathetic loser trying to get back with his ex. His ex who he’s definitely been broken up with for over two decades at this point, given that he was already dating Scam during the Church of the Doodler stuff only a few years post season 1. And he was a really involved dad who is obviously disappointed in Nicky for not being part of Taylor’s life, but also he seems totally indifferent toward Hermie and pinches his nose when he has to be near him? It’s weird! And he acts so eager to use these kids and is VERY obviously trying to manipulate them—the whole chosen one thing tbh, and giving scary “secret” information and telling her she smells so super evil when she’s just…not lol—but then gets worried and tries to stop Scary when she does something that will actually hurt her. Officer Foster sir what the fuck is your deal?

But also—Jodie the cringe fail King of Hell is hilarious and Jimmy could just have been leaning into that new persona because it’s good radio. And it was! So who knows!

And Glenn. We know he canonically helped found DADDIES and was working to take down the Doodler (fighting at the Church, putting in the super fast elevator) and Nicky continued to be involved for years after, so clearly the Close/Foster family cared about the Doodler stuff at one point. So how did Glenn end up with the Doodler’s anchor and why is he maiming children to keep them from getting it? Children he should probably recognize and care about at least a little! (Although to be fair Taylor and Link are both still wearing skull masks)

But ALSO—and I say this lovingly—Glenn does have a slight history of being a selfish garbage man, and even though his character grew a lot by the end of season 1 it still wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility for him to have looked around after his friends were gone, realized all of his loved ones were actually safe, and decided to fuck off to do cool things in hell instead. Especially after the other kiddads betrayed Nicky. Anthony did say that he’d let the players decide what happened to their characters, and while I don’t know Mr. Frederick Wong personally “fighting 666 demons in mega hell with the love of his life” does have the exact vibe of an ending he’d choose for Glenn.

So is Glenn under the influence of the anchor somehow? Is he actually one of the Likely family in disguise? Or is Freddy taking full advantage of being Glenn again to play out this character to its logical and EXTREMELY funny conclusion? Impossible to say!

And finally Agent Schmegan and the FBI. All that work hunting Nicky to the point that he had to abandon his family and stalking Taylor until they had an opportunity to draw out his dad, all so they could capture Nicky and torture him into letting them into hell. And now suddenly all they needed was text message permission from some random unrelated teenager and they could open a portal themselves? That’s fishy! And they had special weapons designed to take down Nicky, who said if they ever captured him his dads would be dead, but now Jodie can fight them all by himself without much issue? Feels a little like a scam, actually!

BUT ALSO—the 12 soccer players have been tied to the FBI since the FBI was introduced, and it makes sense to play out those stories at the same time. And since you can only go to hell once, bringing the FBI there now could take them out as a threat to Nicky. Which is more a narrative move than a comedy beat but would still be very funny when he loses his excuse to be an absentee dad and has to actually interact with Taylor. And his ex wife. And her new boyfriend.

This post isn’t going anywhere, the episode just reminded me why trying to theorize about Dungeons and Daddies is like trying to connect a conspiracy board with silly string (affectionate)

#I don’t know what’s happening here but I know I’m having fun watching it #dndads #dndaddies #dungeons and daddies #dndads glenn close #dndads jodie foster #nicholas foster #nick close #is there a better tag for him this man has too many names

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television-overload · 4 months

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Done! *passes out*

White Christmas

NCIS Christmas 2023 fic

Read on AO3

Summary: For Christmas 2023, the NCIS family makes their way to Alaska to celebrate all together for the first time in years.

WC: 7,963

Rating: G

-.-.-

"Daddy, Daddy! I can see the glaciers!” Tali announced excitedly, her face pressed up against the small airplane window.

Tony DiNozzo smiled and peeked over her head of wavy brown hair to catch a glimpse of the snow-covered Alaskan wilderness below. “You remember what you learned about glaciers in school?” he prompted.

“Uh-huh! They’re like frozen rivers that move down the mountains!”

“Something like that,” Tony chuckled. “You’d better sit down and buckle up, Tals, we’ll be landing soon.”

The nine-year-old obeyed, sitting back in her seat where her legs didn’t quite touch the ground—though the way she’d been growing lately, it wouldn’t be long.

“Can I have your phone to take pictures?” Tali asked once she was properly buckled, the seatbelt tightened by her father until he deemed it sufficient.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tony fished the device out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Don’t take too many, we need to save some space for pictures of all the other cool stuff we see.”

With his daughter occupied, Tony turned his attention to the woman sitting in the aisle seat beside him.

“Hey, you doing alright?” he asked in a low voice, placing a hand on her knee.

She had been shifting uncomfortably for the last hour or so of their flight, unable to get positioned in a way that took the pressure off her back. They had broken up their journey from Paris with a day’s respite in New York City, where they were able to catch up with some of Tony’s extended family. Tali, in particular, loved seeing the sights and stuffing her face with giant slices of pizza. But still, it put a lot of strain on Ziva’s body.

“I am starting to rethink what a good idea it was to travel so extensively while pregnant,” she spoke with a grimace, rubbing her rounded belly in comforting circles.

Tony hummed in sympathy, his fingers finding her lower back and massaging there as best as he could in such a confined space. She sighed in relief, her head falling against his shoulder and her eyes drooping shut.

“In our defense, when we planned this trip, we didn’t know you’d be five months pregnant,” he said softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.

It was true. They had almost given up on the prospect of having another child, promising that if it didn’t happen before Tali turned ten, they would stop trying. But finally, after years of negative tests, they got their positive, and Tony and Ziva were overjoyed. Tali, too, was looking forward to having a sibling. The high pitched squeal she had emitted when they first broke the news proved to them that she would be the best big sister a kid could ask for, and she had slept with a copy of the ultrasound in a frame beside her bed ever since.

But when they first started planning this trip almost a year ago, they had not planned on an additional passenger in utero, which definitely complicated things a little. After Gibbs visited them in Paris for the holidays the year prior, they knew they wanted to be with family. That had been the first time they’d seen him since Ziva had finally been reunited with Tony and Tali, and there was a lot of joy to go around. Tali had taken to calling him Grampa Gibbs, and in almost no time at all, they were like two peas in a pod.

“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Ziva murmured, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I hear Jimmy is bringing his girlfriend.”

“Agent Knight,” Tony said, remembering hearing about her from McGee on their weekly phone calls. “It will be nice to finally meet her. From what I hear, she's been good for him.”

Although the shape of their makeshift family had changed a lot over the years, love was still at the heart of it, that was the only thing that mattered. It broke their hearts to hear of the loss of Breena Palmer. It wasn't fair. As much as Tony had gone through since leaving NCIS, at least the end result was a happily-ever-after with Ziva. Jimmy wasn't so lucky. But the consensus was that this Jessica Knight was a great match for Jimmy, and Victoria apparently liked her too.

After a few more minutes, a voice came over the speaker instructing passengers to take their seats for landing, and Tony pressed a kiss to Ziva’s temple.

“You hear that?” he said, his lips brushing against her hair, “Only a little bit longer, hon.”

-.-.-

“I can’t see him!” Tali screeched far too loudly for a public place, while Ziva tried to wrestle her mussed-up hair into something presentable. She stood on her tippy toes, trying to look out through the crowd at the pickup lane outside, craning her neck for any sight of him.

“Tali, hold still,” Ziva said, brushing through the tangles, “He is not here yet, we only landed a few minutes ago. Your father is still getting the luggage.”

Tali squirmed, but luckily Ziva was finishing up with her hair, so soon she would be let loose.

“What kind of car do you think he drives?” she asked excitedly.

“I don’t know, probably something with big snow tires to get through all this snow,” Ziva answered.

Just then, Tony strolled up, dragging a cart stacked high with suitcases along with him.

“He here yet?” he asked.

Ziva let out an exasperated sigh.

“You and your daughter,” she said, shaking her head. “She just asked me the same thing.”

Tony lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “What can I say? Impatience must be genetic.”

Of course, in actuality, Tony was one of the most patient people to ever walk the earth, and Tali too. But in things like this—well, it was a good thing Tali’s birthday was in the summer. If she had to wait almost a whole year to open presents, she’d probably explode.

Through the glass doors, a dark pickup truck rolled its front window down and honked twice, drawing the DiNozzo family’s attention.

“There he is!” Tali squealed triumphantly, bounding out the doors to the waiting vehicle ahead of her parents.

“Tali, wait for us!” Ziva tried, before giving up and simply following behind, weighed down by their carry-ons, brush still in hand.

By the time she and Tony stepped out into the freezing weather, Tali was already leaping into the waiting arms of their old boss with a shout of “Grampa Gibbs!” He folded her into his embrace, murmuring his own welcome to her in that conspiratorial, hushed tone that only existed between a grandfather and his granddaughter.

Bringing the luggage trolley to a halt on the curb next to the truck, Tony wiped his palms against his pants before reaching out to shake Gibbs’ hand.

“Thanks for coming to pick us up,” he said, smiling as the older man pulled him in for a one-armed hug and pat on the back.

“That’s what family’s for.” He released his former senior field agent and turned to Ziva, who had finally set down the bags she was carrying. “Ziver.”

“Hello, Gibbs,” Ziva said, beaming at this man she saw as her father as he wrapped his arms around her. While her pregnancy wasn’t noticeable to the eye under the many layers of sweaters and coats she was wearing, it was unmistakable to the touch.

Just as she expected, Gibbs placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled back, his raised eyebrow contributing to the knowing look he sent her way.

“Surprise!” Tony said, looking as proud as could be. “We would have told you on our last call, but decided to save it. What do you think?”

The answering smile was so free and easy, it just showed how much Gibbs had benefited from his new life here in Alaska.

“I’m happy for you guys,” Gibbs said, “you deserve it.”

They stood for a moment longer, just enjoying being in each other’s presence again, before the car behind them honked impatiently.

“Well, hurry up, daylight won’t last much longer,” Gibbs said, grabbing the first of their bags and tossing it into the bed of the truck. “Everyone is waiting for you back at home.”

“It’s cold,” Tali said, her cheeks already pink despite the puffy, fur lined coat and thick woolen mittens she wore.

Gibbs chuckled, handing Tony the next bag.

“Then you’d better get in before you turn into an icicle,” he said, tipping his head in the direction of the truck. With a toothy grin copied and pasted from her father, she bounded up to the open door and hoisted herself into the backseat with her mother’s help, and the two climbed into the vehicle.

-.-.-

The drive from the airport in Fairbanks to Gibbs’ place in an area known as Two Rivers took only about 30 minutes. The entire ride, Tali chattered away about the baby, and the big house out in the French countryside they were thinking of moving to. It looked like Gibbs’ lips were stuck in a permanent contented smile, and just as he had done many times for Tony and Ziva, he did what he did best: listened.

As they passed the occasional display of Christmas lights, Ziva would tap Tali’s shoulder to draw her attention, pointing out the window so she could see. Even though it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, it was already getting dark, a phenomenon that Tony did his best to explain scientifically, giving up when it became clear that he was only confusing Tali more. Gibbs couldn’t help but chuckle at his expense. Little Johnny and Morgan McGee could probably explain it better than he could, but he kept that thought to himself.

At last, they pulled into a long driveway, recently plowed to clear it of snow. As they rounded the curve, the moderately-sized cabin came into view from behind the tall evergreen trees, its warmly-lit windows and snow-covered roof a vision of a picturesque Christmas.

Tony climbed out of the cab first, promptly opening the door behind him to help his pregnant wife out of the vehicle. On the other side of the truck, Tali jumped into Gibbs’ arms with a squeal of glee, and was carefully lowered to the ground.

While they stood gathering their things, they heard the front door open with a creak and snick shut, the motion-activated porch light illuminating with a glow.

“Look who the blizzard blew in,” came the voice of Timothy McGee. Tony turned in the direction of the sound and saw his best friend standing on the porch with a huge grin on his face. McGee immediately shoved his hands in his coat pockets and trotted down the front steps, quickly crossing the short distance to the new arrivals. Not a moment passed before he was enveloping Tony in a hug, patting him on the back to convey just how good it was to see him again.

“It's so good to see you all!” McGee spoke. “How was your flight?”

Tony shared a look with Ziva, and responded. “Better for some of us than others,” he said as he wrapped an arm around Ziva’s shoulders. McGee wasted no time in greeting her with a one-armed hug of his own, careful of the bags she was carrying.

“I saw a glacier!” Tali said excitedly, her arms wrapped around her stuffed dog Kelev.

McGee crouched down so he was on her level, his mouth widened in a smile. “I bet you did. Pretty cool, huh?”

Tali nodded emphatically, and Tim stood back to his full height, walking around to the back of the pickup where Gibbs was standing.

“Come on, let’s get you guys out of this cold,” he said, lending a hand by taking one of their suitcases with him. “The snow’s supposed to pick up in the next few hours. Should be quite a sight.”

They followed behind, carrying all their luggage with them as they approached the rustic-style house. McGee pulled the suitcase he was carrying up a wooden ramp, its wheels gliding smoothly up the incline to the porch.

“Gibbs built this for Delilah,” McGee explained proudly, glancing back at Tony and Ziva. “Got the slope of it right and everything, isn’t that great?”

Tony and Ziva joined in the praise, though it surprised no one that Gibbs had done his due diligence to make everything just right for his guests. Despite the snow, it looked like he’d done the work to make his place accessible for McGee’s wheelchair-using wife, and the craftsmanship was exactly what they’d come to expect from Gibbs’ woodworking projects. It blended seamlessly into the rest of the timber exterior, almost as if it had always been there.

“They’re here!” McGee called out as he pushed the door open with his foot, hefting the bag into the entryway.

Excited shrieks and rapidly approaching footsteps precluded the arrival of little Johnny and Morgan, who energetically hopped up and down right in front of the door, preventing the others from entering.

“Hey, hey—yes, I know we’re excited to see everyone, but—Johnny—Morg—"

“If your name is McGee and you are standing within 5 feet of the door, you need to back away right now and give everyone space,” Delilah spoke in a firm, warning tone as she wheeled into the vaulted entrance hall of the cabin. “Yes, that includes you, Tim,” she added, a glint of amusement betraying the kindness she hid underneath that commanding presence. She always was more effective at getting the twins to fall in line than their father was. As ordered, the two backed up until they were standing against the wall, hardly able to hold still for all the excitement they were feeling.

“Hey!” Tony called out as he entered. “There they are! How old are you now, mini-McGees?”

“SIX!” They answered, and Johnny (after double checking that he had it right) held up six fingers to show his Uncle Tony. Their birthday had been last month, just before Thanksgiving, and they’d spent most of their birthday phone call talking with Tali about all the things they hoped to do and see on their Christmas trip. Now, at last, the time had come. It had been years since the McGees came to visit during the summer holidays, and that was far too long for the little ones to be apart.

Ziva entered next, brushing snowflakes off her coat as she wiped her boots on the welcome mat. Her smile was easy and warm, marked by the introspective awareness of what a blessing this time with family was after everything she had been through. Delilah rolled up beside her and welcomed her with a hug, taking one of her carry-on bags off her hands and setting it in her lap.

“The kids wouldn’t stop talking about seeing Tali again,” she said with fond exasperation. “I hope she’s ready to be smothered by two clingy six-year-olds with a million questions.”

Ziva chuckled and followed Delilah into the house, setting her other bag on a wooden bench in the hallway as she passed. “She has been equally looking forward to it, I’d say,” Ziva answered. “Thankfully we have not yet reached the point where she thinks she is too cool to spend time with her family, though I am certainly not looking forward to that day.”

Delilah waved her hand in disbelief. “Pssh. If any kid could skip that phase, I’m confident it’s her,” she said, shaking her head. “She only just got you back, I’m sure she realizes how fortunate she is to have two parents who love her.”

It was a surprise to Ziva every time how little it hurt to hear things like that, these days. Those years of separation and constant anxiety were now in her past, and she had finally been able to move on. Of course, anxiety wasn’t something that went away for good, but she managed much better now than she had before. And she could talk about what had happened without breaking down, which was a huge step forward. Just another thing to be grateful for.

“TALI!” two twin voices screeched, and when Ziva turned to look at Tony, he had his finger in his ear, wiggling it around as if to test his hearing. She smirked, rolling her eyes a little.

Their daughter had been enveloped by the much shorter McGee twins, just as Delilah had predicted. She could vaguely make out a slew of questions being fired at the eldest child, about their trip to New York, whether she saw any polar bears from the plane, and the stuffed dog she carried. Tali seemed to be taking it in stride, only looking a little overwhelmed at the attention as she tried to make her way further into the house. Tucking Kelev under the crook of her arm, she grabbed Johnny and Morgan’s hands with each of her own, leading them into the next room.

Yes, she would be a good big sister. Ziva smiled as she watched them go off on their own.

“I know what that sound means,” came another voice, as he peeked around the corner into the entryway.

“Hey, Jimbo!” Tony greeted. “I think they broke the sound barrier that time. Probably scared off every wild animal in a 5-mile radius.”

Jimmy Palmer grinned, his eyes crinkling behind his rounded glasses. “Well, can you blame them? I’d be right there with them if it were socially acceptable, I’m so happy you guys could make it!”

Ziva placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We would not want to be anywhere else,” she said truthfully.

Glancing at each of them in turn, Palmer offered, “Can I take your coat? There’s a closet by the back door where the rest of us have ours stashed.”

Ziva sent a questioning glance back at Tony, and he shrugged and gave a tiny nod. It was times like these that their unspoken communication really came in handy.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Ziva agreed, turning her back to him and allowing him to help her with the thick winter coat. It slipped down her shoulders, and as it did, she watched with great amusement the reactions of each of their friends the moment they noticed her rounded figure.

McGee’s jaw dropped in an awed and excited expression, and he immediately turned to look at his wife, who herself looked rather surprised and pleased.

Ziva turned expectantly to Palmer, who thus far had only seen their reactions and not what caused them.

“What are you—” he began to ask, then his eyes widened in disbelief. “What?! You guys! Finally!” He promptly pulled Ziva into a crushing hug, pulling back to look at her and then to Tony.

He knew how much this meant to his friend, after missing out on this incredible part of his daughter’s life the first time. He’d been something of a confidante to him for years, listening to him over the phone as he lamented all the things he missed as he learned how to be a father. This time, he knew, nothing could keep him from being involved every step of the way. Probably even more than Ziva would like at times, if he had to guess.

“How far along are you? Do you know what you're having?” Jimmy fired away with the questions, and Ziva couldn't help but think this is what she could have had the first time around, if she had chosen differently. A family to share this wonderful news with, and a partner by her side.

“20 weeks,” she answered with a glowing smile. “And–”

She turned to look expectantly at Tony.

“It's a boy,” he announced proudly, looking for all the world happier than he'd ever been. “We found out last week.”

Shouts of congratulations echoed the entryway, and McGee came up to shake his hand, offering him a clap on his back.

“Any thoughts on names?” Delilah asked next.

Ziva nodded, her eyes flicking in the direction of Gibbs before nervously trailing the walls and ceiling. “Actually, we have had one picked out for a while…”

Tony’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her close.

“Leroy Farragut DiNozzo,” he spoke in a bold voice, waving his hand in an arc in front of him for dramatic effect, which earned a host of politely repressed looks of concern by all their friends.

“Ah, jeez,” Gibbs spoke gruffly, shucking his own coat and hanging it on a nearby coat rack.

McGee, too, looked alarmed. “Oh–that's…”

But before anything else could be said, Tony doubled over laughing, and as much as Ziva tried not to, the corner of her lips quirked up involuntarily at her husband's latest antics. McGee breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay–okay, I'm kidding, we're not naming him Leroy,” Tony said with a wheeze.

“But,” Ziva said seriously, pulling back on the reins of this conversation, “We are naming him after you, Gibbs.”

The room fell silent, the only sign that Gibbs had heard being the tightening of his jaw and the way his adam’s apple bobbed. He never was an emotional one, their boss. He felt it, but rarely did it show.

“We're calling him A.J.,” Tony began, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

Ziva nodded. “Anthony Jethro.”

Gibbs didn't hesitate to cross the short distance to Tony and Ziva, wrapping her first into a hug, and then him.

“I'm honored,” he spoke softly, ruffling Tony’s hair before pulling back. “You give me a call when that baby’s born, I want to come meet him.”

“Copy that, boss.”

“Perhaps you can come stay with us,” Ziva said. “We are hoping to have a house outside the city by then.”

Tony's face lit up. “Now there's an idea! NCIS Christmas in France next year, mark your calendars!”

“That sounds absolutely wonderful,” Jimmy said honestly, his eyes alight with joy. “Well, hey, Victoria is in the kitchen with Jess working on some hot cocoa and cider, if you want to come say hi. If you're serious about us coming next year, she'll flip. Vic’s always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.”

“Well, the details will need to be worked out, but we are very serious,” Ziva spoke, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist. “And I could use a cup of hot cocoa,” she added, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. “Tony?”

“Let's go,” he said. Then louder, “Hey, Tali! Hot cocoa!”

“Where?!” came the answering shout.

“Kitchen. Come on!”

She came running out of the living room at full speed, then proceeded to climb Tony like a tree, whispering something in his ear.

“Yes, you can have marshmallows.”

She grinned.

-.-.-

The kitchen was rustic, but large. Palmer led the way, regaling everyone with the story of the trip he, Jess, and Victoria had taken that morning to stock up on goodies at the only grocer in town. Apparently they had taken Gibbs’ snowmobile, or “snow machine” as they called it here, as it was much faster and probably safer than trying to maneuver a larger vehicle in this terrain.

The result of their labor was all the ingredients for warm drinks, smores, and a hearty Christmas dinner, which everyone was looking forward to.

Jimmy pushed open the door to the kitchen, and inside, Agent Knight turned, a smile on her face as she continued stirring the contents of a steaming pot on the stove. Victoria paused mid-conversation where she sat perched on the counter, her face breaking into a grin at the sight of her friend Tali.

“You're here!” she said excitedly, hopping down from the counter. “Want to come help us? You can put the whipped cream on top!”

Tali looked to her father for permission, then hurried over to Victoria, smiling brightly in return. Not quite a year younger than Tali, the two got along swimmingly. Though, like the rest of their NCIS family, they hadn't spent much time together in person, they kept up via video call as often as they could. Long-distance movie nights had become a regular occurrence–whenever they could get it to work with their different time zones.

“Jess, this is Tony and Ziva,” Jimmy said, standing beside her somewhat awkwardly.

Agent Knight nodded. “Hi! I–uh, I've heard a lot about you!” she spoke, reaching out to shake each of their hands in turn. “I see congratulations are in order,” she added, nodding in Ziva’s direction.

Ziva smiled warmly. “Thank you, it is great to meet you. We've heard good things.”

“How's the cocoa coming along?” Jimmy asked, turning to check on the girls whose faces hovered over the chocolatey concoction, taking turns stirring it.

“Almost ready, Daddy!” Victoria said. She nodded to Tali who held a bag full of mini marshmallows. “Just needs a few finishing touches.”

-.-.-

The cocoa and cider was enjoyed by the entire party, as they gathered around the blazing fireplace in Gibbs’ living room. Those who knew each other enjoyed getting caught up on each other's lives, while new friendships were quickly formed between Jessica and the others.

Agent Torres, Tony learned from Palmer, had unfortunately been unable to come for Christmas, citing some unspecified holiday plans that he was being oddly tight-lipped about. Tim, however, whispered his suspicion that the younger agent may, in fact, know the whereabouts of one Eleanor Bishop, and have gone to meet up with her for the holidays. Tony and Ziva shared a knowing look.

Meanwhile, they'd heard Abby had met up with Ducky in London, spending a nice quiet Christmas with him and some of his extended family in the British Isles. It sounded lovely.

As mugs of cocoa were emptied and marshmallows eaten, the children sprawled out on the floor with an array of board games and cards and a veritable mountain of couch pillows. They got along incredibly well for the most part, which their parents were endlessly thankful for.

With them occupied, Palmer took it upon himself to show Tony and Ziva to their room, assisting them with their luggage up the slightly cramped wooden staircase.

“You'll be up here, in the room next to Jess and I,” he spoke, pushing a heavy oak door open with his shoulder. Inside was a beautiful wooden bedframe that they immediately suspected to be handmade, with a mattress topped in a colorful quilt and matching pillows.

“This is lovely,” Ziva said, surveying the comfortable accommodations.

“Tim and Delilah are downstairs next to the living room, and Gibbs is just next to the kitchen.” Jimmy set their suitcases down in the corner, turning to smile at his two friends. “Get this: Gibbs made bunk beds for the kids. He's got the attic all decked out, I'm talking string lights, shag rugs, and the works. If there's not a blanket fort up there by the end of the week, I'll be shocked.”

Ziva felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, courtesy of the pregnancy hormones.

“Would you ever have guessed that one day, our boss would build a dream bedroom for our kid?” Tony asked, reaching out for Ziva's hand and threading his fingers into hers.

Ziva's lip wobbled, and Tony knowingly pulled her into his embrace, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down her back.

“It is pretty incredible, isn't it?” Jimmy agreed, an understanding smile pulling at his lips. “I'll go grab Tali's bag and take it up there. You guys get settled in.”

Tony thanked him, and soon it was just the two of them left breathing in the moment, in awe of all the twists and turns their lives had taken.

-.-.-

The ridiculously early sunset combined with jet-lag meant that the DiNozzos were scarcely able to make it past 19:00. The entire group gathered once more for an easy soup dinner before going their separate ways, either putting their finishing touches on gifts for Christmas day or calling it a night and curling up under warm blankets for some much-needed rest.

“I can't believe she’s still awake,” Ziva mumbled, laying on her side with Tony spooned up behind her.

Up in the attic, loud thumps and high-pitched squealing indicated that none of the children had gone to bed like they had been told to. The last time Tony had popped in to check on them, they had been jumping around into piles of pillows and blankets, and dancing to some music playing on an old radio they'd found, with far too much energy.

His hand splayed across her belly protectively, while he nestled his face into her voluminous hair.

“She's a monster of our own creation,” he murmured back, pulling her tighter. “A night owl like me, and an early bird like you.”

Ziva hummed, too exhausted to laugh.

“If they don't knock it off soon, though, I'm telling them Santa will put coal in their stockings,” Tony added, just as another thud sounded above them.

“They're just having fun,” Ziva said, her voice so soft that she had to be moments away from falling asleep. “S’good for her.”

Tony's lips curled up in a smile. He loved the lazy droll of Ziva's voice when she was half-asleep.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Then, he pressed a kiss to her curl-covered head, and let sleep take him.

-.-.-

Tali's eyes blinked open slowly, only the light from the string lights illuminating the cozy attic hideaway. She rolled over and stretched, cuddling Kelev close before sitting up in the top bunk of the bed. Across from her, Victoria still slept soundly in her flannel pajamas. They had worn themselves out last night playing until Uncle Tim had come to scold them for staying up too late.

Tali inched herself over the edge of the bed and down the ladder, her bare feet cold on the wooden surface. It appeared the twins were still passed out too, and likely would be for a while. She was like her mother, in that way. Always early to rise, although her daddy explained that the baby made Ima sleepier now than she usually was.

As quietly as possible, she pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs and crept down the hallway, making her way to the first floor.

The sun was still far below the horizon, the sky as dark as ink. Only a few lamps lit the living room, but the smell of bacon and freshly-brewed black coffee wafted from the kitchen, which meant she wasn't the only one awake at the crack of dawn.

She pushed open the swinging door and saw Gibbs seated at the breakfast nook, sipping from an old coffee mug as he read the newspaper.

Tali plopped down across from him at the tableclothed table, wordlessly reaching for a piece of bacon and taking a bite. She leaned her head onto her arm and watched him, her eyes still blinking heavily in the dim light.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, marked only by the flip of a newspaper page or Tali’s munching of bacon, Gibbs asked, “Wanna come help me plow the snow?” His voice was gravelly from disuse, breaking the spell of the stillness of early morning.

Tali's cheeks pulled up in a smile and she nodded, following Gibbs to put on her heavy winter boots and coat over her pajamas.

He led her out to his truck, which was fitted with a plow out front for shoveling snow. “Hop up,” he said, patting his lap once he'd taken his seat in front of the wheel. Tali grinned and climbed up.

“Can I steer?” She asked, glancing back at Grampa Gibbs.

“After I clear the driveway and the road,” he answered, chuckling a little at the young girl's enthusiasm.

He took her around the house, pushing the freshly-fallen snow to the side as they drove. The headlights caused the white-blanketed landscape to sparkle, and it looked almost otherworldly with the mountains in the distance, barely visible. As they passed it, Gibbs pointed out the barn where his dogs lived, promising to bring her there later when it was light out and when her cousins were awake.

True to his word, once he'd cleared a section of the road and the driveway that encircled his house, he let Tali have the wheel while he controlled the pedals, keeping a hand close by in case she started to veer too far one way or the other off the gravel of his driveway. She giggled all the while, focusing intently on doing her job correctly.

“Looks like your old man's awake,” Gibbs said as they pulled back up to the house, catching sight of Tony through the window. He helped Tali down from the truck, setting her in the ankle deep snow. She trudged happily toward the house behind him, stepping only in Gibbs' footsteps for the short walk to the porch.

As they opened the door, her Abba was passing by with a glass of water in hand for Ima.

“Look at you, up an at ‘em,” he said, smirking down at his daughter. “Is Grampa Gibbs putting you to work?”

Tali nodded enthusiastically. “He letted me drive!” she said, earning an impressed look from Tony.

“Well, in that case maybe you want to bring this up to Ima and give her some snuggles,” he said, handing the glass to Tali. “I'll help Grampa over here with breakfast.”

“Okay!” Tali nodded, and after kicking off her boots, she set off up the wooden staircase.

-.-.-

The occupants of the cabin slowly filtered downstairs, rubbing sleep from their eyes and attempting to smooth their sleep-mussed hair.

Little Johnny's stuck up in all directions as he padded down the steps with his sister in tow.

“Hey, buddy, you sleep well?” McGee asked, setting his cup of coffee down on the table. Johnny climbed onto his father's flannel pajama’d lap and laid his head against his chest, still half asleep.

“She snores,” he mumbled tiredly.

Tim chuckled. “Who does, bud?”

“Tali.”

McGee lifted his eyes knowingly to Tony. “Wonder where she gets that from?” he said, his tone jokingly accusing.

“Hey,” Tony said, raising his hands in surrender, “mine has been up since o' five-hundred, if he didn't sleep well, that's on him.”

“How did Ziva sleep?” Tim asked, making conversation.

“Like a very noisy rock,” Tony answered, “So, the usual.”

Tim smiled and took another sip of coffee, careful not to spill on the sleeping boy on his chest.

-.-.-

Once everyone had devoured a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and fruit salad, the sun finally began to rise on a lovely Christmas Eve day.

“What are your plans for the day?” Jimmy asked Tony and Tim. “Only a few hours of daylight, I'm sure there's plenty you want to see.”

Tony glanced over at Ziva, who was curled up on the couch with a cup of hot tea, chatting quietly with Tali.

“We were gonna go to these hot springs that are nearby, but Ziva can't go with the baby,” he said. “Chena Hot Springs. You should look it up, sounds like the perfect way to spend an hour or two before the snow starts up again.”

“You sure you don't want to go?” Tim asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “I can stay home and keep her company.”

Tony waved him off. “Nah, that's okay. We're gonna take it easy, she still gets this nauseous feeling sometimes, the doctor says just to rest and stay hydrated.”

“If you're sure…” McGee said. “It does sound really nice. Jimmy?”

“I'm in. Jess had something similar in mind, I think.”

“Daddy?”

The three men turned to see Tali standing in the doorway. She leaned close to Tony, and he instinctively bent down to listen to her.

“Grampa Gibbs said I could go see his puppies,” she whispered.

Tony leaned back to look in her eyes, and gave her a little smile.

“I think that's a great idea,” he said, “I bet Victoria and the twins would like to go too. Why don't you all go get your coats on?”

She ran off, and Tony turned back to the grown-ups.

“I can check in on them every once in a while if you guys want to go.”

McGee and Palmer shared a look, then shrugged.

“Well, I guess it's settled,” Jimmy said.

Tim nodded. “My dad always said never to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that means.”

Tony chuckled, pushing his two friends through the doorway. “It means it's time for you two to go get your ladies and get your butts into nature's hot tub.”

“Alright, alright,” Tim laughed. “Thanks, Tony. I owe you one.”

-.-.-

By the time the two couples had left for the hot springs and the children were bundled up for their adventure with Gibbs, Ziva had fallen asleep curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Tony stopped in front of her and knelt down, setting the mug she still held on the side table. He traced a finger over her cheekbone, brushing back a stray strand of hair over her ear.

“Ziva,” he whispered, gently jostling her hand with his own.

“Hmm?”

“You wanna nap upstairs?”

Her eyes opened a crack and worked on focusing on the man in front of her.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, sitting up just a little.

“Out making the most of the daylight,” he answered with a small smile.

“I'm sorry.”

She tried to sit up again but he stopped her with a soft touch on her shoulder.

“Hey, no, it's okay. I just wanna spend time with you. When's the last time we had an afternoon to ourselves? No Tali, no baby–” he leaned forward, placing a hand on her rounded belly, eyebrows raised. “–yet.”

She smiled a sleepy smile, covering his hand with one of her own.

“We could watch a movie,” she offered, shifting her feet to make space for him beside her.

“Now you're talking,” he said, flashing that trademark grin she'd fallen in love with so many years ago.

He scooted onto the couch and pulled her to his side, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he did.

“I love you,” he spoke.

“I love you too.”

-.-.-

“It tickles!” Morgan giggled, the puppy in her arms licking her face relentlessly. Tali set down the one she was holding and picked up another from the bed of straw they had been sleeping in.

They stayed pretty warm in the barn they lived in, insulated by straw and plenty of blankets. Plus, these Alaskan huskies had more than enough thick fur to keep them comfortable through the winter. This was what they were built for, after all, and Gibbs loved looking after them.

“Sled's almost ready,” he spoke, busy tying up a series of ropes. He set the excess equipment aside on his workbench, where his woodworking tools were laid out. The fully grown team of dogs barked and jumped excitedly as they were attached individually to the sled.

Gibbs opened the large main doors of the barn, propping them open with heavy bricks before returning to the kids.

Grandkids.

He'd thought his shot at having any of those was gone with Kelly. How wrong he had been.

“Alright, hop on, all of you sit in the front.”

Morgan gave the puppy she was holding a kiss on the forehead, then set it down to join her brother and friends with Gibbs.

“Can I stand in the back with you?” Tali asked, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, “you gotta hold on tight, though, you hear me?”

“Uh-huh!”

Her little hands gripped the handlebar at the back of the sled, and Gibbs stepped on behind her, grabbing ahold of the reins.

With a simple command, the dogs took off over the snow. The kids squealed with glee, the cold wind blowing in their faces as the team of dogs happily pulled them along around the house and the perimeter of Gibbs’ property.

“Go, go, go!” Johnny cheered, enjoying the ride.

They stayed out there until each of them had had a turn standing in the back with Gibbs.

-.-.-

The hot springs had been as relaxing and beautiful as advertised. And to be child-free for even a few hours during the school holidays was priceless. They really owed Gibbs and DiNozzo a favor.

When they arrived back at the house, it was suspiciously quiet. An old country western movie was playing on the TV in the living room, and both Tony and Ziva were fast asleep, curled up together under a blanket.

McGee smiled and reached for Delilah's hand, squeezing it once. He was so thankful to have Ziva back after all this time. He could only imagine how Tony felt. Every moment of peace he now enjoyed was earned a hundred fold. For both of them.

“Why don't you go check on the kids?” Delilah said quietly, careful not to wake them. Tim nodded and headed toward the stairs, while Delilah wheeled her way into the kitchen with the others.

Up in the attic, Gibbs lay on the floor beneath a ramshackle amalgamation of blankets and pillows. He'd be the last person to admit they'd worn him out between the dog sledding, snowman making, and fort building, but he wouldn't complain if they let him just lay here for a little bit longer. He hadn't taken everything with him when he moved to Alaska, but he did still have some of Kelly's old things, toys that Victoria, Tali, Johnny, and Morgan were now playing with.

“How's everyone doing up here?” Tim's voice called as he made his way up the stairs. “Woah, looks like you all had a fun afternoon.”

“We went on the dog sled!” Morgan announced loudly, her head popping out of the fort. Gibbs pushed one of the blankets aside and inched his way out.

“You good, boss?” Tim asked, an amused smile on his face.

“‘Course,” Gibbs answered with a nod, stretching his knees. “I'll get started on dinner. Steaks okay?”

“Great!” McGee answered. “I’ll come down and help in a bit.”

-.-.-

Dinner consisted of Gibbs’ signature cowboy steaks cooked over a fire. The kids regaled their parents with stories of their afternoon activities, while the adults discussed their hopes of seeing the northern lights that night.

A few hours later, they all stood bundled up on Gibbs’ back porch, disappointedly staring up at the cloudy sky.

“We'll try again tomorrow night,” McGee said, giving Johnny a consoling pat on the back. The clouds would prevent them from getting a view of the aurora tonight, but hopefully another time they would have more luck. Eventually they trudged back inside to warm up around the fire.

“Tateleh, have you set your shoes out for Père Noël?” Ziva asked.

Tali's eyes widened, and she ran off to grab a pair.

“What's she doing that for?” Victoria asked, looking up to her father.

“Père Noël is French for Father Christmas – Santa Claus,” Tony explained. “In France, he leaves presents in shoes instead of stockings."

“Can I leave my shoes out too?” Morgan asked, yanking on her dad's hand.

“Me too!” Johnny said.

“Go get them,” Delilah spoke, nodding toward the stairs. Victoria followed, excited at the prospect of getting more candy and presents from Santa Claus.

-.-.-

Somewhere, a floorboard squeaked, drawing Tali out of her peaceful sleep. When she opened her eyes, Grampa Gibbs was standing beside the bunk bed wearing a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

He held a finger over his lips.

“Follow me, I've got something to show ya,” he said in a whisper, bending to do the same for Morgan, then Victoria and Johnny. They each rubbed their eyes sleepily, allowing Gibbs to help them down from the bunk beds and into their slippers.

“Where are we going?” Morgan asked, her whisper not quite as soft as she was intending. They padded down the cold wooden stairs, like little ducks in a row as they followed their parents’ old boss.

“You'll see in a minute,” Gibbs promised, leading them through the living room to the back porch door.

Johnny glanced at the Christmas tree as they passed it. “Hey! Santa already came!” he said excitedly, his eyes widening at the sight of so many presents under the tree and filling their stockings and shoes.

“Plenty of time for that later,” Gibbs spoke, handing each of them their coats. “Look outside.”

Tali did, and she gasped at the sight of the sky alight with color. Stripes of green rippled across the black firmament above the Earth, like a flag waving in the wind. Surrounding it was a glittering field of stars, brighter than any Tali or the others had seen, living so close to the cities.

“The clouds cleared!” Victoria said, staring up at the sky in awe. Gibbs opened the door and let them outside, watching their faces instead of the natural wonder taking place above their heads.

“So cool,” Johnny mouthed, his jaw hanging open. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

Morgan nodded in agreement.

This was pretty special. A moment the children would never forget.

-.-.-

Morning time brought presents and the kind of holiday cheer Ziva never thought she'd be lucky enough to experience again. The kids were delighted at their gifts, giggling at their success at getting chocolates put in their shoes by Santa Claus, just as Tali said would happen.

Victoria received a star projector as one of her presents, and she and Tali were already making plans to try it out in the fort they had built upstairs. Meanwhile, Ziva gave Tony an empty baby book, knowing it would mean the world to him to fill it with pictures and memories as their new baby grew.

Snow was again falling, a picturesque sight out the large cabin windows, especially with the sun beginning to rise over the horizon. Light wisps of pink and yellow mixed with faded blue over the top of the snow-capped mountains. A crystal clear morning.

“Why don't you play for us,” Ziva whispered in Tony's ear, nodding to the piano that sat in the corner of the room, a remnant of the previous tenant, Gibbs had said.

Tony turned and looked down at her, a contented smile playing on his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, holding there for a beat, then unfolded himself from the couch where they sat intertwined.

“Hey!” McGee said excitedly when he noticed where he was headed. The others looked up from their gifts and smiled in anticipation. Tali hopped to her feet and joined her Abba by the piano, her grin matching his.

“What song should I play?” he asked her. One look out the window, and she answered his question in his ear like a secret. “Good idea,” he said.

After testing the keys, making sure they were in working order, his fingers splayed across the instrument, beginning their rhythmic dance. Each chord was played beautifully, a warm sound that matched the feeling of sitting by the fire with family.

“Sing with me, Tali,” Tony said, locking eyes with his daughter as he finished up his intro. She nodded eagerly and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning her head against him.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

Just like the ones I used to know.

Where the treetops glisten,

And children listen,

To hear sleigh-bells in the snow.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

With every Christmas card I write.

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your Christmases,

Be white.

-.-.-

Tag list: @artemisscabin @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgiac @loudlooks @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tonysziva

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rootbeerworshiper · 3 months

Text

Normal (part 7)

pairing: fem!character + matt sturniolo

summery: Abigail and Matt have been best friends for years and practically grew up together. the two hiding their feelings for one another, until one stupid drunken dare changes things.

warnings: slight anxiety attack at the end but nothing too major

love, sienna <3

abigail’s pov again!

i’ve been back home for a few days now.

well, not home exactly, i haven’t spoken to my parents in years, but Marylou always insists i stay over for the duration of my visits so that’s exactly what i do.

it’s been good being back though.

i missed Nate so much and i’ve basically been hanging out with him every chance i get.

we’ve already have two “family” movie nights which i cherish more than anything. cuddling with Chris and Trevor on the couch wearing Christmas pyjamas even though it’s summer and making jokes with Jimmy about stupid shit.

i’ve also had Marylou there for me, teaching me all her favourite recipes that she knows her own kids will never be capable of making.

i wasn’t “home” but this is the closet thing i have and i’m content with that.

i’ve seen my sister too, it’s a little weird when you go from seeing someone everyday and crying in their arms to getting coffee once every few months, but i think it’s best for us to be on our own for the most part.

trauma bonds some people, and it separates others, just wish the ladder didn’t happen with us.

being back was needed, it always is.

i moved out to LA purely because of Matt.

when we were kids the plan was always for me to go wherever he went, though i’d much rather stay in Boston, i was happy anywhere as long as i was with my best friend. i needed desperately to be with him at all times.

speaking of my best friend, things have gone back to normal, and i think i’m okay with it.

i’ve been journaling a lot more, trying to process all the emotions i’ve been feeling and it’s been helping a lot to map everything out.

sure, it hurt getting rejected, but it’s nothing i wasn’t expecting. Matt’s my best friend, i can’t expect him to want to be anything more, it wouldn’t be fair to him.

so things have been good.

we’ve still kept up with our late night Mcdonald’s runs where we talk about nothing and everything and watch the stars through the sunroof.

we still cling to each others side in social settings.

and we still help each other with our bad habits, even though for me it’s just an excuse to hold his hand.

although on the outside things were normal, something felt different, emotionally.

it’s as if he’s not telling me something, or maybe he’s just closing himself off. either way i don’t like how it makes me feel, and i don’t like that he has that effect on me.

i am still planning on telling him how i feel, at least i think.

i need the closure, even if his only reaction is to distance himself more, i can’t keep doing this to myself.

and maybe when he rejects me i’ll actually be able to move on and stop being delusional.

god i just wish he wasn’t so good with his mouth, that would make this a lot easier.

i sit in the back of the minivan with Nick and Nate to either side of me as we head on a small road trip to Vermont.

i’ve always loved the east coast, i love the way the trees over take the outdoors and i love all the wildlife that comes with it.

it’s also extremely nostalgic for me because it reminds me of all the Sturniolo road trips i’ve tagged along for growing up.

“are you sure you’re okay if we vlog this?” Chris asks, looking back to me as i zone back into reality. i bite my lip momentarily, because as much as i’d rather not be subjected to the hate that comes with being their friend, i also don’t want to stop them from making content.

so i nod. “yeah it’s okay, i feel like they already know me anyways so it should be fine” i shrug, referring to the viewers that have watched every video my best friends have posted.

but i’d be lying if i said i hadn’t, because i love watching them in their element.

“how much longer till we’re there?” Nick asks Matt, who’s been much more quiet than normal this car ride.

“like 15 minutes i think, we could’ve been there already if Abigail didn’t take forever getting ready” i gasp dramatically.

“i can’t believe you are throwing me under the bus like that Matthew cmon” i bring my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them.

little do i know Matt’s watching me from the rear view mirror trying to hide his flustered face.

it’s quiet for a moment before the song playing on the speakers changes, and i know what song it is right away.

“Matt why are you playing this corny shit” Chris complains, running his hand through his hair.

i’m so incredibly uncomfortable because i know exactly what playlist is playing and now i know that Matt’s listened to the song that describes my entire life.

i’m not dumb, i knew he was on the playlist, but he hadn’t listened to it in so long and i had been playing it more, and well i love Lizzy Mcalpine.

Matt furrows his eyebrows. “i think it’s cute, you’re just incapable of being romantic”

Chris is clearly annoyed with that response, although it makes me blush slightly, i just sit and watch. “shut the fuck up Matt at least i have the balls to be honest”

i can see the way Matt stops breathing, as if he’s frozen in place. “watch your mouth Chris or i swear to god i’ll drive this car into a tree”

it’s awkwardly silent for a second. “okay! anyways what are we planning on doing when we get there” Nate chimes in, attempting to bring the mood up.

“wait oh my god can we please see the alpacas again i miss them” i chime in, a smile immediately forming on my face. i see Matt now smiling too, both of us internally reminiscing on how often we’d spend time with the animals together growing up.

“we definitely have to, i also wanna hit up the shops because they always have good stuff” he replies, looking to the rear view mirror yet again while waiting for a reply.

“maybe we can find stuff to finally decorate your dungeon of a room too” i joke, but i do mean it, i can’t stand a bland bedroom.

Chris of course is having the time of life laughing at this. “Chris don’t act like your room is any better you all lack interior design skills it breaks my heart”

soon enough we make it to the cabin we’re staying at, and i’m literally giddy with excitement. coming here never gets old.

somehow it smells better here, like the leaves provide a freshness you just can’t get in LA.

i grab my duffel bag out of the trunk and make my way inside, still smiling like a kid on christmas morning.

we situate in our rooms, i’m sharing with Nick as always but i definitely don’t mind because our late night talks bring me so much happiness.

for a moment i forget about Matt, i’m just completely and utterly stress free.

well i forget about him until i look over and see the way his hair falls perfectly just in front of his eyes. fuck i’m so down bad it’s embarrassing.

once we’ve set our selves up we decide to go see the alpacas first since i’ve practically been begging the whole car ride…

“OH MY GOD MATT STOP” i grab his arm and begin to run towards the alpaca enclosure “the ugly one is still here oh my god i love him”

he must be in a bad mood all of a sudden based on the lack of expression on his face and by the way he drops my hand. “yeah why wouldn’t he be? it hasn’t been that long since we’ve been here”

i try to hide the small frown that wants to make its way to my face. Matt was always my biggest supporter and even if he didn’t care what i was talking about, he’d be my biggest fan as i rambled on.

“okay wait we need to feed them they look hungry” Chris laughs, clearly not sensing the tension that was formed moments prior.

Nick walks over with Nate, camera in hand. i forgot that that was happening, a smile now making its way onto my face, although i definitely don’t feel happy.

it’s hard to avoid thinking about the pit in my stomach, but i’m probably just being over dramatic.

“look at his goofy ass” Nate says as he feeds the ugly alpaca Matt and i bonded over two summers ago.

we all take our turns feeding the alpacas and my mood takes a turn for the better. i have to focus on the friends surrounding me and forget about the boy i can’t stop thinking about.

the rest of the day is nice, just doing what we’ve been doing for years, buying the same snow cones and visiting the same stores.

nothing makes me more happy then spending time with my favourite people, as insanely corny as that sounds they are my chosen family.

something about the way i can smell the tree sap as i walk on uneven dirt roads while talking about absolutely nothing. i just really wish the small action of Matt from earlier didn’t effect my mood so much.

but him affecting my mood is nothing new.

by now it’s dark outside, which is my favourite time because of the sky. i instinctively go to tell Matt about the constellations i see in the sky, grabbing his arm without a second thought.

before he can even react i take my arms off of him, now remembering what happened earlier today. “sorry i just noticed the big dipper and wanted to tell you”

“okay” he replies shrugging and continuing to walk, not once taking a glance at the stars above us.

okay?

is that what we say to each other now when we express something we’re passionate about?

okay?

i cant hide the hurt on my face but unfortunately Nick notices right away, i can see the way the gears turn in his head and i know he’s about to say something so i shoot him a look. this doesn’t need to become a big deal.

so we carry on as normal, Chris and Nate throwing some huge stick into a nearby creek while Nick yells at them to stop.

leaving Matt and i standing in what was now awkward silence. not something i’ve had with him often.

we make it back to the cabin and i head straight back to my room. i feel so over stimulated and want nothing more than to take of my denim shorts and rot in bed.

so i do just that, for a moment anyways, just finally making myself comfortable with multiple fuzzy blankets when Nick enters our shared room and sits on the bed next to me.

i let out a sigh. i cant keep these thoughts to myself and although i normally tell Nathan, he’s busy having fun with Chris and Matt doing whatever it is they’re doing in the living room.

“Abigail” he states.

“Nicolas” i reply, followed by yet another dramatic sigh.

he shoots me a concerned look, it’s evident how well he knows me. “wanna inform me on what’s happening?”

i pull a blanket over my face and groan, before eventually coming back out to meet Nicks face still looking at me.

“are you prepared for me to rant for the next ten minutes?” i ask “i have lots to get off my chest”

he shuffles in bed, kicking off his shoes and placing a blanket on his lap. “i’m always prepared”

so i do what i warned him. i talk for the next few minutes, explaining my feelings, the moment in the hot tub, and how that all leads to now.

i try my best to avoid crying because a part of me won’t allow it. my dads voice echoing in the back of my brain telling me to grow up. “i don’t know what i did wrong, i don’t know what to do Nick. i cant live like this anymore”

he hugs me and i immediately break. every feeling i’ve bottled up for years pouring out into his chest.

he just rubs my back as i cry. he doesn’t even need to say anything.

and we stay like this for a while before i pull away.

“i just feel so stupid. part of me thought that the moment in the hot tub would lead to more. i thought that maybe he liked me back or maybe- i don’t know.” i sniffle, trying to gain composure because although i just let myself cry, i don’t feel proud of it.

“Abi you’re allowed to feel. you are a human being with emotions and you need to feel them.” i nod, a tear still making its way down my face. “i can’t give you advice until you speak to him. you’re right, this can’t go on anymore, but until you say something it will.”

“but-“ i begin

“but nothing. obviously he’s being an asshole right now but neither of you know where you stand and that’s confusing for both sides. you can’t keep this in anymore, it’s not normal nor is it healthy. okay?” he finishes, waiting for a response.

i sigh. “okay. not tonight though, i need to process what i’m gonna say i think.” i reply, pulling the blankets back up to my chin. “you can go hangout with them if you want i know i’m being annoying right now”

“don’t say stupid shit you’ll never annoy me.” he slaps my arm playfully, causing a smile to form on my face.

i don’t know why it feels so difficult to tell Matt how i feel. he’s my best friend. the only person in the world who knows everything about me, other than the fact that i’m in love with him. and it breaks my heart that i struggle to tell him.

i just wish it didn’t matter this much to me i wish i didn’t base my self worth off of how much a boy looks at me or if he’s excited about the things that make me happy. i’m nothing without him. i mean without Matt i don’t know who i am, and now he’s pushing me away all because of a stupid drunken fling

it breaks my heart that no matter how hard i’ve tried to suppress these feelings i’m forced to confront them. maybe i’m running away from what i feel, or maybe i’m choosing the safer option.

the option that’s supposed to leave me less hurt.

yet here i am with Nick sleeping beside me, trying to suppress more tears.

my heart rate increases and my breathing speeds up. god i feel so weak, so stupid, so hopeless.

if Matt were here he’d tell me to focus on my breath. he’d hold my hands and talk me through all my worries. he’d rub my back till i’ve fully calmed down and then do some stupid baby voice to cheer me up.

if he were here i’d be whole again, but he’s not, and i’m just here at three in the morning stressed and alone.

i need fresh air.

a/n: i kinda hate this i think but that’s okay lolz

taglist: @athaliahxoxo

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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mishapen-dear · 2 years

Text

Martyn is itchy.

He wouldn’t be worried about it, really, except he’s always. itchy.

He’s cold, too, but that’s more par for the course. Cleo is a zombie, isn’t she? Undead and all, it makes sense that she’s cold, makes sense that Martyn shares that with her. He’s… fine with that. He’s perfectly okay with that.

It’s normal for soulmates to get traits from their bonded– Pearl has little stars that float around her head, and Martyn isn’t sure, but he thinks Scott’s pupils follow the phases of the moon. Tango has little wings of fire that Martyn thinks isn’t cool at all, and when Jimmy laughs too loudly his hair catches on fire. Impulse and Bdubs have shocks of the other’s hair colour on their heads. Etho looks the same, but it hurts Martyn a little to look at Joel’s face now. With too many eyes, Scar sees a cat that isn’t there, and something light blue and vex-like sits at the edge of Grian’s smiles.

Martyn doesn’t know what about Bigb and Ren is the same. He refuses to learn.

(He learns, later. Of course it’s the ears.)

But that’s a decent data pool! It’s a good, alright data pool, so Martyn knows that it’s normal for soulmates to share little parts of themselves with each other. Cleo shared her coldness, and Martyn had taken it gladly when the heat of the nether had burned him, and he takes it gladly now, and.

And.

He’s so itchy.

And he doesn’t know what he shared with her. He watches her through his spyglass and it’s just- there’s just- there’s nothing! There’s absolutely nothing! She looks like herself, like Cleo, and not one bit like Martyn.

He’s so cold (and itchy) and not bitter about it at all.

Or. Maybe a little bit? Maybe.

It would be better if it didn’t feel like another type of rejection. Soulmates giving their other halves whole parts of themselves is… it’s nice. It’s special. It doesn’t mean anything because everyone shares traits with their soulmates- Scott and Pearl share traits, even! And Martyn didn’t have the choice of accepting or rejecting Cleo’s coldness, but he accepted it anyway, and.

Cleo didn’t get anything from him at all.

It bothers him.

So he gives her his heart.

Not his literal heart, although they do share several hearts, and he thinks she might kill him again if he peeled up any of those to give to her. He can’t give her his heart, but he gives her a heart. He places it in the middle of the valley, where everyone can see, and he laughs at Tango and jeers at Jimmy when they tell him to take it down.

There’s little bumps in his skin. He stares at them, and he worries, and he itches. An allergic reaction, maybe, except they’re spread so sporadically over his body, and he doesn’t think he’s even allergic to anything. He tries not to scratch and hopes for the best.

(The bumps hurt when he presses his hands over them, but the cold numbs the pain.)

Cleo bridges out to him, and it’s. The talk they have is certainly a talk.

“Invest in some heating, yeah?” Martyn quips when the conversation drifts towards Cleo’s house.

“No.”

“Oh. Fair enough.”

He tells her he wants to go to the deep dark, and she gives him diamonds, and for the first time since joining this server he almost feels warm.

Then she starts breaking her bridge again, and she’s leaving, and Martyn blurts out, “What did you get, then?”

She pauses, looks up to him with a startled little blink. The flowers in her hair wave in the wind, and Martyn can see where their stems dig into the skin beneath her stitches. “Get what?”

Martyn almost loses his nerve, but he’s feeling a little better now that he knows why she’s really with Scott, now that he knows she’s just trying to survive. And this isn’t something he needs to know, because it doesn’t affect their survival, but.

“The soul bond,” he says. “What did you get from me?”

“A hard time,” Cleo says. “What did you get from me?”

“I’m cold,” Martyn admits to her, because honesty is a virtue and he revels, quietly, at the startled pause of silence that sits between them.

“I’m dead, Martyn.”

“I don’t care-” Martyn starts quickly, but Cleo holds up her hand.

“Shush,” she says, and Martyn shushes. “I’m dead, Martyn.”

There’s another pause. “Yes?”

Cleo sighs. It’s a hard, frustrated sound. She looks at him, watches him intently for a moment that lasts too long. Her green eyes don’t hurt like Grian’s black eyes or Scar’s not-eyes, but the look isn’t exactly pleasant either.

Cleo cocks her head to the side. She looks like she’s made a decision. “Do you know what the point of decay is, Martyn?”

“Uh. Sure. Recycling nutrients back into the dirt, right?”

“Close enough,” Cleo answers. “Decay takes from the body to sustain other bodies. Other bodies. The dead don’t… take. We can’t. We’re dead.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Grian coded it special so I could eat,” Cleo says. “I’m a corpse, Martyn. Corpses are for… rotting. Recycling. Taking from me and giving to something else. Plants. Flowers.” She touches a hand to a dahlia that sits just below her ear, then gives him a derisive look. “You.”

Martyn feels a little sick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Cleo replies. “So I don’t get anything. Enjoy your diamonds, Martyn.”

And she leaves.

And Martyn is itchy.

–

He lays in bed that night and he shivers. There are lights outside his window and horns in his ears and he feels so cold.

–

She starts to build a bridge. Another bridge. A proper bridge. It’s broken in pieces, floating in the air, and she tells him if he apologizes all will be right. He has nothing to apologize for.

(He wears thicker and thicker layers and tries not to scratch.)

He has to meet her halfway. Just build to her bridge from her heart, and it’ll be okay. She’s giving him an olive branch. He just has to reach out and take it.

(It’s too good to be true.)

He reaches out and he pushes instead.

Martyn can barely take in a full breath before he realizes the mistake he’s made and then he- she- they-

shatter.

—

Martyn is cold.

He wakes up alone, and he’s cold.

His items are gone. His armour is gone. His layers are gone. And-

He’s not itchy anymore.

There are flowers where the bumps were. They wind from beneath his skin and rest delicately against his arm, small buds and soft petals.

(He thinks his heart has stopped beating.)

Cleo isn’t going to forgive him, he thinks. And, as he gently touches a hand to a golden flower and listens to the silence in his chest, he finally understands why.

#mishapen words #trafflicblr #inthelittlewoods #zombiecleo #fic #double life smp #not technically spoilers because i started to write this last week #and apparently i just needed one or two lines from this week to jumpstart me into finishing it #im so very normal about the thought of martyn growing flowers (and cleo grows thorns)#and when martyn said the thing about his heart no longer beating thats ahahahha yeah yeah okay yeah #get carnivored by a plant nerd #oh wait wait #tw body horror #lemme know if i need to tag anything else

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weakherodiaries · 7 months

Text

SPOILERS ALERT - Last Episode Reaction (Rant Part 2)

Tw: DEPRESSION, SUICIDE

Nah.. it turns out that for the sake of my blood pressure, I had to make two rant posts in a row.

Thank you, Seopass-jakkanim for writing and creating this wonderful work with Kim Jinseok-nim, but I'm sorry that I can't be lenient about the less pleasing parts. So here is my reaction and long rant part 2 (not that you two writers or anyone would care, but I had to vent). I also included the pleasing parts at the end of the post.

First, you developed the characters' backgrounds in such a meticulous and detailed way and now you've abandoned them, or so I heard, to move on to another work. I mean gosh GOSH. Thank you for creating them BUT NO, THANK YOU for abandoning their proper arc resolutions. What would Sehan / Forrest and the others do? What would Jihoon / Jimmy do? Why are you left them stranded? Who exactly is Seongje / Wolf?

I appreciate that you tried to highlight the issues on young males' mental health problems by writing one character as suicidal (YES IT WAS HINTED THAT BAEKJIN / DONALD WAS SUICIDAL THAT NIGHT, WELL GUESS WHAT, IT WASN'T WRITTEN REALLY CLEARLY, WAS IT? Hmph) and another as depressed (SIEUN /GRAY, WHO ELSE) BUT you don't do that in a swoosh kind of way. No matter if they're suddenly reunited with their crush or best friend or whoever. What the hell was that? Show them being encouraged, show them opening up.

You introduced juvenile crimes and adult crimes into the plot and it's good, but now it's come to nothing. Why were they inserted into the story in the first place? To emphasize Baekjin's cruelty? As if school violence cases alone isn't enough? You could've just highlighted the school violence aspect. Now that part of the plot is left unresolved.

I understand why you make Seokhyeon / Kingsley so obsessed and that he has now dragged Dongha and Seongmok into this, who didn't look very happy or pleased about it. I MEAN PLEASE LET THEM GO? I know that they did wrong but they were minors and this is fiction, fgs.

You make sure that friendship is one of the key themes of the story but after that death, everything comes to a standstill. Is that it? Is that the point? But why, when your characters are minors with their future ahead of them? Why deny Seokhyeon, Dongha and Seongmok future too, when this is fiction and you're in a hurry to wrap things up for Sieun, Suho and the others?

Well I must be fair that there are good things in the last episode, though. These are them.

Hakho / Jake who found closure with himself and moving on to take care of Gwangseok /Kenny

Suho being okay although it doesn't seem that he's gone back to school (again, a reality with many bullying survivors).

The kids went to meet Suho / Stephen together with Sieun to Donghae area. No school trip scene, though. Everything is cut.

Jihwan (Sieun's old friend) being surprised that the monster Baku/Big Ben is Humin and is all smiley.

And he was so shocked that the famous White Mamba a.k.a Baeksa (the White Snake of Legend) is none other than Sieun. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Well there you go. It's been a wild ride and I still have some more stuff to post (lighter, happier ones). For now, ciao.

#weak hero #weak hero webtoon #gray yeon #yeon sieun #jake ji #ji hakho #kwon seokhyeon #kwon hyukjin #dean kwon #kingsley kwon #park humin #ben park #ahn suho #stephen ahn

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freakattack · 6 days

Note

Warioware cast Vs 1 Billion Lions

Unfortunately i think that is too many lions for them. Let's say we have like, 5-10 lions though, which I think would be a pretty fair ratio of lions-to-idiots. Wario would obviously be pulling a lot of weight here, as would Ashley and Red, if Ashley could get her shit together enough to potentially eviscerate some or at least teleport them somewhere else. Kat and Ana would likewise be carrying, especially since they have been shown to (kinda-sorta) actually fight a lion. Young cricket would also be very helpful here, although the jury's out on Mantis. 5-volt does not have any strategies or fighting experience, but her mom rage is likely enough to take out at least 1 or 2. Dribble and Spitz's helpfulness here is entirely dependent on whether they have the taxi, in which case they move up from recon duty to the front lines. Orbulon's helpfulness here is entirely dependent on whether he has the Oinker, in which case he moves up from "completely useless" to "not a liability". Everyone else would be, to varying extents, kind of fucked.

Obviously, were an actual lion to be let loose in WarioWare Headquarters (wario's house), no one would actually get hurt. Jimmy T would teach it the magic of disco and they would all boogie on down to club sugar where the lion would be initiated as a Semi-Recurring Character. But that is what i think.

#funnily enough i did recently make a tiermaker about how useful each member would be in a Rat Emergency which is much lower-stakes than #this but similar concept and kind of similar results

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enderwoah · 1 year

Text

i miss our little talks

summary:

Last Life was insane. What was that group? Two Listeners, a Watcher, a vampire, and A Normal Guy, which might actually be rarer than all of those things combined at this point. The Southlands were som'ming else, man. Really inclusive group, that was. The gold stahandahard for factions in the Life series, I'd wager. Oh, gods, not again.

or: the listeners have a very normal, free-flowing conversation. title from little talks by of monsters and men.

(ao3 link)

(2,684 words)

Jimmy crosses his arms and leans back on the cool stone wall, staring Grian down through the rushing water as Martyn flicks the sweat from his brow and vanishes his pickaxe back into his inventory. He glances at Jimmy, quirks up an eyebrow, and asks, "Why're you still here, mate?"

"Making sure you don't try anything," Jimmy says simply, not a lie and not a full truth. "Joel needs to sleep and I promised him I'd stay here and make sure you don't try and steal him again."

"Ah, right," Martyn says, nodding as if he believes Jimmy—which he doesn't. Jimmy can hear it in his voice, despite him not having actually said anything. He glances over at Grian's slouched figure in his little hole in the wall, distorted through the stream used to get back to the surface, and juts a thumb back towards him. "D'ya think he can hear us?"

"Yes," comes the short, unwavering reply. "Absolutely, unwaveringly, yes."

Martyn leans towards the stream and waves. "Hey, G. Sorry about the view. And sorry about the pufferfish, I didn't mean it at all." Jimmy huffs out a half-laugh and Martyn glares at him. "It was self-defence. Joel killed me for moving you around and is green now." He pauses. "Wait, do you think he can see, too?"

Jimmy snorts. "If we think he can hear us, why would he of all people not be able to see us?"

"Fair point," Martyn admits within a laugh. "Guess that was a bit unnecessary."

"I'm sure he appreciates the apology," Jimmy says lightly, sliding down to sit on the floor of the little cavern. Martyn mirrors him, although with significantly less grace, haphazardly dropping himself onto the ground in a way that can only be painful and makes Jimmy wince.

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable—or, at the very least, as uncomfortable as it would be with anyone else—mostly because it isn't really silence. The running water, the rising and falling of Jimmy and Martyn's chests in tandem, their beating hearts syncing up to one another as they Hear things they shouldn't necessarily be able to hear, but are now much louder due to the not-silence. Martyn's face immediately contorts into something mildly pained, fins flicking, and they make eye contact that only seems to sound like an invitation.

Martyn?

Martyn flinches despite himself, and Jimmy wraps his arms around his knees, pulling himself further away to seem less threatening. Martyn laughs humourlessly, out loud, and wrings his hands and cracks his knuckles against the floor, the sharp pops and snaps making the physical air ripple around them, sound waves lapping at Jimmy's arms like someone threw stones into a pond.

I will never get used to that. Sorry. Don't apologise. It's not your fault. Yeah, well.

The not-silence returns, and Jimmy muses upon the fact that he forgot how much he preferred this method of speaking. It isn’t necessarily reading minds, though it could be—people talk in their minds all the time, of course, but since it isn’t telegraphed, they’re closer to whispers than true dialogue, which means you can easily tune it out. And, as expected, when Listening to a non-Listener, they can’t really speak back, so it doesn't make well for conversation. He remembers vividly the day Martyn and Jimmy stepped into their Nature, and how giddy they were when they spoke and Listened to each other without really speaking—and immediately, he remembers Martyn's panic when he realised that he couldn't actually stop.

How has it been treating you? How has what? You know. I do. It's no better, really. The usual. The usual?

Martyn sighs and rolls his eyes.

Tango is losing it because he built their tower off-centre, Scar is apologising to Cleo for accidentally killing her still, Bigb and Pearl are Watching, like, Watching with a capital 'W,' and Bigb is guilty as all hell because Cleo told Pearl that he would betray her at the first chance he got and he's not done that for a game and a half, Joel is on the border of a panic attack, poor guy— Martyn. —Etho's trying to write a note to Bdubs, it's his seventh draft and he's starting to get frustrated because he wants to talk to the guy so bad but just can't get the words out, Bdubs himself is taking apart his clock and putting it back together to calm himself down now that the session is over and no-one else will be dying— Martyn. —and what else—I can get the really juicy nonsense if you'd like, I mean, Skizz is basically on the verge of tears in the TIES base 'cause he keeps dying, Impulse is panicking and trying to help because the other two are busy, and Joel's fully tipped over into that panic attack now, but he can't let anyone see it because Joel isn't meant to have those— Martyn!

Martyn winces and lets his shoulders sag, putting his face into his hands, disrupting the stray strands of golden blond hair that fall in front of his face.

Sorry. I didn't want to hear any of that. I said I'm sorry. ...it's fine. Oh, Tim— Martyn. I'm serious. ... ...

Martyn's fins twitch and Jimmy's wings slowly fluff up, defensive and mildly upset at the invasion of privacy that's been forced upon his ears, but he understands that the idea of a filter might slip away when you're constantly hearing people's thoughts and secrets passed around the server through whispers like a disease. He understands, so he smooths out his feathers and does the mental equivalent of clearing his throat, which is more of a concept than a sound that can be described.

So you really just...Hear that? All the time? When it's quiet. I'm sorry. You already knew about it. Doesn't mean I can't be sorry, man. We got these abilities at the same time, and you haven't seemed to improve even since... Since Evo. Yeah. ... Well, I don't feel too bad about it. It's not like Grian is faring any better. Judging by the...

They both turn to Grian at the same time. Martyn laughs, and Jimmy misses whether it was out loud or not.

It's weird. I feel like Grian and I are two different sides of the same coin. Or, I guess, the same side on two different coins. We're really similar, is what I'm trying to say. How so? We just have similar experiences every season. Pledging our undying loyalty to someone in 3rd Life. Killing someone we love because of the rules in Last Life. Hating our soulbond in Double Life. Neither of us has a good handle on our Natures. But he knows how to play it all off and...adapt, I guess. I just end up dying. ...huh. I guess I never noticed. It's fair. I pledge my undying loyalty to a lot of people. Ha-ha. Is Scott your pick this season? Yeah. Not to steal your man or anything, but the Mean Gills are really where it's at.

Jimmy winces, and Martyn's eyes blow wide and immediately fill with regret.

Touchy subject, sorry, mate. It's fine. It was three seasons ago. Three seasons, gods. It feels like just yesterday that I was slitting the throat of my best friend. Dying to a terrible lava game. Running away from Joel's dogs. Gods, those stupid dogs! I'd almost forgotten about them. You should get a wolf for Joel. I think he needs an emotional support animal. And before you ask, that's just my assumption, he hasn't even thought about it. That's not a bad idea. But, like, it's Joel. ...yeah? He could either love it or immediately kill it. You know him. I mean, fair. You could just ask him. Or, you know. No.

Martyn exaggeratedly groans in his mind, rolling his head back and bonking it against the stone wall.

What is your issue with Listening? I mean, it's sort of our job, isn't it? We're just Watchers that get into the nitty-gritty of things, we're technically supposed to be abusing these powers to hell and back. Yeah, and I don't want to. Why? Just don't. Come on, Jimmy. Let me pick your brain. Isn't that what you've been doing this whole time? What? No. ...I just don't like looking into people's heads. Number one, it's rude and invasive to do it on purpose, and number two, I'd rather not come across anything...unsavoury? ...oh, ew, mate, we're in the middle of a death game— Not like that! Shut up! I'm kidding. What do you mean? I mean, like, looking into someone's head and seeing that they're speaking ill about me or...I mean, they do that out loud anyways, but I'd rather hold onto that sliver of hope that they're just joking. If they're saying it in their head, then... Oh. Mate— Don't. I don't need the lecture from anyone else, I know what you're going to say and it's not going to help. You know I'm just taking the piss. Yeah. Jimmy. I know. Do you? ...

The not-silence returns, and Jimmy distinctly looks at the ground. Martyn sighs loudly and pushes himself off of the ground, crossing the room slowly, as if Jimmy is a bird that he doesn't want to frighten away.

I know, Martyn, you don't have to—

Martyn ignores him and sits directly next to him, their shoulders touching. Jimmy distantly remembers such positions from Last Life, when the two of them (three of them, really, though Grian isn't participating in the discussion for obvious reasons) were part of the same group. The Southlands were nothing short of intimate on most days, up until betrayal tore up the ground underneath them like an explosion woven under their feet, so finding his place against Martyn isn't difficult at all.

Martyn waves his hand, summoning something from his inventory, and Jimmy finds himself flinching away when he sees it—a small diamond dagger that he's holding out in Jimmy's direction. He looks from the weapon, which is being held by its blade, condensation already forming around his perpetually damp fingertips, to Martyn's yellow eyes.

...? It's for you, moron.

Jimmy doesn't bother keeping the expression of surprise off of his face.

What, really? Yeah. Need to prove that we're still friends somehow.

Jimmy hesitantly takes the dagger, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You realise that I know people can be friends with someone they look down upon. I don't think everyone hates me or anything, but I know people think things about me. And my curse. And, y'know. Listener. Or, at least, Bigb and Pearl do. That's something I haven't been able to block out. Yeah, me too. And they're real sons o' beaches about it, too, to put it nicely. It's not like we asked to be like this. And there's no reason for them to play into that 'cosmic enemy' nonsense, either. Yeah! Grian and I are teamed, and we shouldn't even be interacting with each other, really. Last Life was insane. What was that group? Two Listeners, a Watcher, a vampire, and A Normal Guy, which might actually be rarer than all of those things combined at this point. The Southlands were som'ming else, man. Really inclusive group, that was. The gold stahandahard for factions in the Life series, I'd wager. Oh, gods, not again. That bit lasted for so long. It was impressive how it never got old. It absolutely did, but we were all too sleep-deprived and paranoid to care. I think that's the foundation of any good group. What, sleep deprivation and bad puns? Yeah. You'd be surprised how the Bad Boys have basically followed the same formula. Reusing our trade secrets, huh? Sharing 'em with Joel? We're just bad like that. Every time the three of you say things like that, I throw up in my mouth a little. Hey—! Who do you think we got it from? You're, like, the king of bad recurring bits. Yeah, yeah. You've got me there.

They slip back into that comfortable not-silence, simply resting against the wall and each other until Martyn suddenly jolts and pushes himself off the ground.

"Right, sorry," he says out loud, and Jimmy fully flinches away at the sudden spoken word—it's far too loud and crashes over him like a tidal wave, immediately making him dizzy as he rubs his temples and stops Listening. "Sorry about that. Should've warned you."

"'S fine, mate," Jimmy says through gritted teeth, eyes still twisted shut as his wings spread slightly behind him and stretch as he sits up. "You alright?"

"The Clockers are coming over to use G as a fortune teller," Martyn replies, his tone playfully dry. "And as much as I love you, man, I can't be caught cuddling with the homies when we're not on the same team. You understand."

Jimmy, still not opening his eyes (because it's just more comfortable that way; just for a moment longer), raises an eyebrow at Martyn. "Right..." he says, trailing off to indicate his obvious disbelief.

"I'm serious!" Martyn protests. "They'll never let me live it down, and then they'll tell Scott and he'll make some stupid bit over me cheating on him that spirals into him actually severing our alliance because you know how Scott is."

Jimmy's heart aches despite himself, but he forces out a laugh just to not make it awkward. He hears Martyn hiss in a break and he cracks an eye open just to look at him. He has the deepest grimace that he has ever seen upon a man's face, obviously played up for laughs but still with a twinge of realness within it. "Jimmy, you know what we both are, yeah? That was the fakest laugh I have ever Heard, ever. Christ Almighty."

"Ha ha," Jimmy says, deadpan. He squints up at Martyn and shoos him with one hand. "Get outta here, fish boy."

Martyn snorts and turns to the water stream, muttering, "Fish boy...you are just too much. I'll see you around, Jim."

"Seeya."

Martyn cracks his knuckles, preparing to swim up the stream before he pauses momentarily. He turns back to Jimmy, opening his mouth as if he's going to say something, but clamps it shut at the last second.

His voice comes through very faintly, as Jimmy already stopped Listening, but he can still hear it clear as day.

Good luck with the game. Rootin' for you all the way, brother.

Martyn grins and leaves the cavern.

Jimmy rests there for a moment, taking a deep breath in and letting out an exhale cut short by the constant tightness in his chest. He pushes himself off the ground and makes his way towards the stream, already hearing the loud voices of Scar and Bdubs above ground, only being broken up by an almost-silence that he presumes is Cleo's voice just at too far of a distance for him to hear.

Before swimming up the stream, though, he meets Grian's open eyes through the rippling distortion between them. He can see the yellow residue glowing against the water and reflecting back at him, but he can't bring himself to care enough to shake it away.

"You heard none of that, yeah?" he says, because he knows Grian can hear that and he knows Grian heard none of that; he's just driving the point home. Despite the fact that neither of them put any sort of weight in their cosmic rivalry, neither of them find anything wrong with harbouring a playful one, either. So, yes, he knows Grian didn't hear it, but he enjoys being a bastard whenever he has the rare opportunity.

He smirks. Grian's eyes are glassy and unfocused, so maybe he's imagining it, but he'd like to think he sees the smallest twinge of annoyance in the man's face. He waves the diamond dagger in front of his face, relishing in the idea that Grian will, for once, have zero context on why it happened. "Didn't think so."

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