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jpegjade · 4 years

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Physical Therapy - Ch. 1 (Spencer)

WELCOME TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!! in honor of this bish starting physical therapy in real life (and missing it bc i can’t drive and my mom and i’s schedules not being synched on google calendar all the time) i’ve decided to write a fic about it. it will be a little series with a goal (yes, an end game) and it’ll be cute. some of it is based on actual things that happen and some is literally just the story. ENJOY.

gender: neutral

tw: nothing that i can think of

genre: fluff | angst

Description: After getting shot in the leg, spencer goes through physical therapy before he can get back in the field completely. What happens when he starts to fall for his physical therapy assistant?

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Two honks at 6am meant that it was time for Spencer to get going. Derek was downstairs, in the car, waiting on boy wonder to crutch his way out of the apartment complex. Derek wasn’t sure how to feel about this trip considering he missed his early morning run for this but he knew how nervous Spencer was for his evaluation today so he didn’t mind as much as he could have minded.

Spencer was patiently waiting in a pair of very short shorts, mismatched socks, and running shoes. He threw on a t-shirt and looked in the mirror, noting how tired he looked. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately for some reason but he couldn’t be sure why. He combed out his hair one more time before he and his crutches headed to the elevators.

“Ready, kid?” Derek said, opening the front door for Spencer like a world class chauffeur would if Spencer was a celebrity.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer mumbled.

In truth, Spencer was more than ready to get started on his physical therapy journey. He wanted to get back in the field full time, adrenaline pumping, connecting with victims, walking again. He didn’t mind the assisted mobility but it was hard for him to know that the best he could do sometimes was stay back in the office or hang out in Garcia’s batcave.

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence between the two men. Derek was thinking about how he could make up his missed morning run by doing another type of high cardio workout while Spencer was just trying to figure out why it had to be him. He wouldn’t wish the frustration of his recovery process on anyone else on the team but the frustration of the recovery process just got to him on some days. Today was one of those days.

Derek pulled up to the physical therapy clinic sooner than Spencer hoped. Part of that was because Derek was a very fast driver while the other part was because Spencer wasn’t paying attention for most of the drive.

“You owe me one.” Derek said, completely joking. Well… Partially. That morning run was what kept him awake during the day, energizing him for work.

“Do you want to come in?” Spencer said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Spencer’s hands were tapping his leg as he awaited Derek’s answer. He was nothing short of a nervous wreck on the inside. All he could think about was how much pain he would be in once the evaluation was over and the physical therapist had finished poking and prodding at his knee. He hated to think that it would be worse than everything else going on. Plus he still had to go to work today.

“Sure, kid.” Derek said.

Derek wasn’t going to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so he might as well support his friend.

Climbing out of the car, the boys slowly made it to the sliding glass doors of the physical therapy clinic. Much to Spencer’s surprise, it was nothing like he originally imagined it to be. Some part of him thought it would somewhat resemble the clinic where his mother resided but it was completely different. There were floor to ceiling walls for over half of the first floor building. High tech equipment was stationed everywhere from anti gravity treadmills to hand bike motors, medicine balls and so much more. Spencer stood in the doorway, leaning on his crutches, while he took everything in. There was so much light in the air, it was almost like the feeling of recovery was airy and not meant to bog him down. This was a strange feeling for him to comprehend...

“You coming, pretty boy?” Derek called, taking a break from chatting with the pretty receptionist.

Spencer and his crutches walked over to the front desk and grabbed the paperwork that covered how much pain he was in today. He filled it out quickly, hoping to get everything over with sooner than later. He was already here so he might as well just finish everything quickly so he could get out of the place.

When he finished writing everything down, he returned the paperwork to the receptionist who slipped him a piece of paper and pointed to Derek. Spencer already knew it was the receptionist’s personal phone number and he didn’t even need to look at the paper. Sitting down, Spencer handed Derek to a very confused Derek before it hit him what it was. Derek winked at the receptionist, who blushed before answering the phone.

“Spencer?” A voice called his name shortly after he sat down.

It was nice to know that here, he didn’t have to be a doctor. He was just another person healing. He didn’t have to be smart, he could just exist.

“Good luck.” Derek said, noticing that Spencer’s hand was shaking in the slightest bit.

“My name is Nora and I will be your lead physical therapist.” The woman said, walking Spencer to a vacant padded table. It reminded Spencer of the types of tables you lay on when you get a massage.

He only got a massage once when Garcia got stood up on a couples’ massage date. He spent half of his part of the massage giving the masseuse facts about how their job could actually give them an infection from the amount of germs in the air and on the table. His delivery of facts caused the room to be incredibly uncomfortable and bleach the table very thoroughly. By the time he and the masseuse finished, only 5 minutes were left in the massage and Garcia was left horrified and amused at the same time.

“Don’t worry. We bleach the tables every time someone finishes a session.” Nora said, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. Spencer visibly relaxed and sat on the table.

“So, Spencer, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Nora followed up, pulling up a backless roller chair.

“Well, I was on a case and the unsub, unknown subject, shot at a dad but it ended up hitting me in the leg instead and…” Spencer paused, looking at Nora’s amused face.

“No, I mean tell me about you. Your hobbies, what you do for fun, things like that. I need to do a complete profile for you so I know how your quality of life has been affected and which exercises you can do at home so we aren’t pushing too fast.” Nora smiled at Spencer.

“I work.” Spencer said in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Okay. So you’re a workaholic.” Nora wrote. She was about to ask a new question when you came quickly walking to Nora.

Spencer was left dumbfounded. There seemed to be a halo of light radiating around you, making you glow. He knew it was the sun finally rising but his brain short circuited as he continued to gaze at you.

“Hey Nora?” You said, looking down at your boss. “Mrs. Gillespi wants to know why you haven’t come back to check her form. She doesn’t trust me because, her words here, I ‘look like a child who doesn’t know their left foot from the color orange.’”

“Sure. Here, you can take over Spencer’s evaluation.” She handed you her clipboard.

You looked at the detailed notes on the paper and then up at Spencer, who looked like one of the youngest people here.

“It’s not often we get cute guys in this place. Other than Kyle. But Kyle’s an asshole who could almost be my dad.” You blurted, not realizing you said it outloud as soon as Nora left.

You noticed that he started blushing and looking at his converse and you realized that you said something. You usually spoke your thoughts out loud but the people you worked with were used to it so no one bothered to say anything.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“You called me cute.” Spencer said. “Which is fine. I don’t understand the appeal but I do believe that your blurting of what you perceive as a fact is a coping mechanism. It can also be tied to ADHD, which is a common mental disorder that causes your brain to impulsively say things.” Spencer paused, looking at your face.

“What?” You asked, again, confused.

“I’m not saying you have ADHD. I’m a doctor but not that kind of doctor. Although I could get another Ph. D. Prove my father wrong. And…” Spencer realized he was rambling.

“Cute and a talker.” You said, writing that down.

You wrote something down on the paper that Spencer couldn’t see but he was curious about.

“Let’s check out that leg.” You said, pulling out an instrument that looked like a compass.

You asked Spencer to move his knee certain ways and it wasn’t as bad as Spencer thought. You were gentle, soft even. Your hands were delicate and you ended the session massaging his leg and smiling at him.

“You were a good patient today, doctor Spencer.” You said, smiling at him.

Spencer blushed, unable to meet your eyes.

“You… I mean… I enjoyed our session.” Spencer said. “Which I don’t normally enjoy. Not that I’ve been shot before. Or had physical therapy. Or been here. Or even worked out really.”

“You’re funny, doc.” You smiled. “Your next appointment is Tuesday of next week according to the schedule so I guess I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.”

Spencer stared at you as he wondered why you were so excited.

“Why?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not every day I get the case for a cute guy who is smart and awkward. It’s almost like the heavens have answered my hopes and prayers.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling and putting your hand on your heart.

“I believe in science.” Spencer stated, grabbing his crutches.

“A man of science. Does it get any better? What’s your star sign?” You joked.

“Scorpio.” Spencer stated.

“Oop. All the scorpios I know have been some hoes. You better not be a hoe, doc.”

“I’m definitely not a gardening tool, if that’s what you’re referring to. Otherwise, I’d like to thing my lack of dating skills doesn’t qualify as being a… hoe? Although, I don’t believe in the use of the word to describe someone who enjoys spending time with multiple people. I’d like to think the use of the word is meant in jest and fun for a term of endearment.” Spencer stood up, balancing on his crutches.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, walking slowly with Spencer to the front desk.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked, turning to you. He realized that he never got your name.

“Y/n.” You smiled.

The clouds must have parted again because as soon as you turned to walk away from him, towards Nora, you were covered in another halo. And just like that, you were gone again.

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Future tag list:

@ellvswriting @sageandberries-png @l0ve-0f-my-life @rexorangecouny @kennedywxlsh

Want to be added? Tell me!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #cm

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thatmultifandomhoe · 3 years

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Knitting You a Home - 4

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,853

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Grandma was perched on the chair at the register with her knitting, the needles lightly clicking against each other as she moved the yarn forwards and backwards all without looking at her work. It was a skill she acquired from years of practice.

Instead, she watched as you buzzed around the store, arranging and then rearranging displays even though each attempt didn’t look different from the last. It had been amusing within the first ten minutes, but after watching you do this all around the store, she knew something was off, whether or not you wanted to admit it.

“Honey,” Grandma called out, hands still moving as she raised an eyebrow at you. “Did you put something in your breakfast this morning that I should know about? Perhaps you thought it was sugar that you put in your coffee, but it really wasn’t?”

Usually a comment like that would have made you pause and laugh, but you didn’t. Instead, you licked your lip as you glanced at her for a few seconds before adjusting the decorative jade scarf on display.

“I had cereal for breakfast Grandma,” you softly answered, nose scrunching at how the scarf was now set.

The store itself was quiet with the lack of shoppers allowing the conversation to easily pass between you and your Grandmother with ease to keep it from silent. When you didn’t even hear the clicking of her knitting needles, you felt unnerved in the silence.

Turning around, you were surprised to see her arms crossed over her chest, the purple beads attached to her glasses glimmering as she propped them on the top of her head. It had been years since she had looked at you like this; an instant reminder of the days in high school when you attempted to be rebellious.

“What is going on? You’ve managed to do a week’s worth of work in the four hours that we’ve been open.”

You shrugged, looking away and at the scarf. It had been one of Grandmother’s creations. Ideally, it was meant to be worn at events rather than for warmth. “I fell asleep early last night. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie. After weeks of waiting up for Namjoon to come home, you finally couldn’t find the strength to stay up, crashing at eleven. You weren’t entirely sure when he came home last night, but when the alarm went off at seven thirty, he was already gone. Unlike you where you needed to be at the store for nine, he had to be at the studio for eight. But like every morning the coffee maker was already set and your favorite mug was waiting, prepared for you by Namjoon himself. All you had to do was press the button to start it.

Grandma shook her head though. Standing up, she walked around the counter and once she was in front of you, pressed her cool hand against your forehead.

The gesture made you smile. “I’m not sick Grandma.”

“I think I’ll decide that,” she teased, gently bopping a finger against the tip of your nose like she had when you were a child. “You may not be sick, but you’re bottling something up for sure.”

She always knew when you were dealing with an issue. As a child, you thought she was able to use magic to sense these types of things, and even though you were now an adult, you still liked to believe that she was magical. Especially when it worked in her favor.

“It’s nothing serious,” you half admitted, smiling up at her. “Namjoon’s just been pulling a lot of hours at the studio, so he’s there more than he’s at home.”

Raising an eyebrow, she ran her fingers through your hair. “He should tell his boss that his wife needs him at home.”

With a giggle, you stepped back once she removed her hand and went back to the scarf display. This time determined to drape it in a way that was pleasing to the eye. “His wife, doesn’t want to interfere with her husband’s career.”

“Please, the two of you are young and in your first year of marriage. He should be with you, in a certain room, in that cozy house of yours that has a few empty bedrooms.” Grandma sent a knowing grin to you, chuckling as you simply shook your head.

“Almost a year,” you corrected. “We’ve known each for a year, but he gave me the Mate Mark in November.”

Grandma hummed, making her way over to a wicker basket that held knitted rabbits dressed in thin sweaters and dresses. They were a hit with young children, perfect as baby shower gifts, and you absolutely loved to make them.

“Which proves my point even more. You’ve been married a little less than a year, and you’re both working like an old married couple.” Holding a bunny, she waved the rabbit’s arm at you. “As your Grandmother and your business partner, I’m telling you that you need a vacation. Go home, take a few days off and sleep in. I can run the shop on my own.”

“Grandma, I’m fi-”

“Yes, you’re fine,” Grandma interrupt. “You’re saying it but I’m not believing it one bit.”

A part of you wanted to argue for a little bit longer, expect all that came out was a sigh of frustration. You were more than capable of working for the rest of the day, but standing by the mannequin, Grandma was right. It was time to recharge yourself, and if you were going to figure out why Namjoon was acting so strange, it would help if you weren’t at the shop all day long. Glancing at the calendar, you realized that it was only Tuesday. How were you already so done with the week when it only just began?

“Alright,” you agreed, setting done the scarf once and for all to head towards the office. “I’ll go home, take that vacation.”

Her excited cheers were ignored as you went to gather your belongings, smiling nonetheless. As much as you teased her, you did love her dearly and were grateful to have Grandmother in your life.

Grabbing your purse, you gave her one last hug and reminded her that you’d be back on Monday before leaving the shop, the little bell jingling in your wake. The car was parked in the back-parking lot, but instead of guiding you there, your feet took you to the right, walking the short distance to another shop that was six doors down from yours.

The air conditioning hit like a wave washing off the summer heat as you entered the bookstore. From nowhere in particular soft music danced around the shop. It had been a while since you last saw Sarah and after everything, you were curious as to how she was doing considering that Hoseok was leaving at the end of the month.

“Be right there,” Sarah called out, her voice coming from a corner of the store that you couldn’t quite see.

“Or I can come to you?” You suggested, releasing the smile when she called out your name in glee.

Following the sound of her voice and books thumping on the floor, you weren’t surprised to see Sarah sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a bookcase. “Well I’m happy to see you like this instead of the last time I saw you.”

Sarah laughed, leaning over to hug you once you sat down next to her. “Believe me, I am too. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the shop.”

“Grandma insisted I needed a vacation.” You carefully leaned against a bookcase as Sarah continued to stack the shelf.

“Well I mean, you do,” Sarah agreed, glancing in your direction. “Besides that, how’ve you been? I’ve been meaning to text you but ever since Hoseok signed the contract, we’ve been running around trying to figure out what he needs before leaving for Seoul.”

You shrugged, spotting a romance novel with a crown on the cover. “I’m alright. Just…has Namjoon been in lately?”

Her hand paused its task at the mention of his name, this time turning to face you completely. Like your shop had been, the bookstore was currently free of customers. While that tended to be a worry, it was only noon and typical during the week. The weekend was when business really went to town.

“Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t been in these last few weeks. I think the last time I saw him was before the Dance Studio’s May show. Why, is something wrong?”

Licking your lips, you turned the book over, grazing the description with your fingertips. It wasn’t unlike Namjoon to skip out on his trips to the bookstore. It had been the first place he went to on his own when he first came to live with you and it was a habit he kept, always excited to tell you about the new sonnets and books he got that day.

It was strange for him to not be coming to the bookstore.

You knew when this all started, and you didn’t think Sarah wanted to be reminded of that so soon. “He’s just been working longer hours,” you said again, faking a smile when she raised an eyebrow. Guilt swirled in your heart from keeping the truth from her, but the last thing you wanted was to have her relive what Sue put her through. Even if it was just by remembering.

Luckily, Sarah nodded after a few moments. Whether or not she believed you, she didn’t mention it. “Oh well he’s probably just tired then. I know I tend to forget things when I’m not running on enough sleep.”

You chuckled in agreement, handing her back the book you had been looking at. “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell as Sarah began to re-stack the shelf again. You took the chance to look at her, noticing the differences since the last time you saw her. Namjoon had explained that Hybrids were able to sense everyone’s emotions and that depending on how severe they were, another person’s emotions could affect theirs as well.

When you had gotten the call from Sarah, her voice breaking over the line as she sobbed into the phone, scaring both you and Namjoon – who had been standing nearby and heard it all clear as day – while you hurried to gather your things to go see her. Before even reaching the car, you knew it was bad. She hadn’t even locked her door so when you arrived at her apartment that day, you had walked right in and found her curled up in bed, cheeks blotchy as she cried into her pillow.

It never crossed your mind that by telling Sue about what Colin had been doing would result in the choices that had been made. Guilt had been an unwelcomed guest in your heart and mind during Sarah and Hoseok’s separation. Despite all your attempts to reign in your emotions at home that night, Namjoon had picked up on them so much that as soon as he came home, he was right there by your side, hugging and sweetly kissing you and your Mate Mark, reassuring you that was never going to happen between the two of you.

Despite his promises, it already felt like there was a rift between you and him.

“How are you and Hoseok?” You asked.

Sarah smiled as she ran a hand through her hair, revealing the side of her neck where her own Mate Mark was. To any onlooker – and with some distance – every Mate Mark looked like an identical scar from a bite. Someone who you never met could have one that look just like yours, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell that no two were alike. How could they be identical? Namjoon’s jaw and teeth were different from Hoseok’s. It was the finer details; the grooves and ridges were their own individual shape.

“Amazing,” Sarah breathed out. “It’s just so good to have him back home. He finally got the rest of his belongings from Sue since she’s planning on moving, but it finally feels like everything is going right for us.”

It appeared that way too. There was a life in Sarah’s eyes that when you had gone to check on her with Hoseok gone, had been burnt out. You were scared that she was going to fall into a depressive state without him, but it was a miracle that she managed to fight against it and try to live her life, even when her Mate had been taken away.

A part of you wanted to believe that, if for some reason you lost Namjoon, you’d be able to continue living. Deep down however, you knew how easy it would be slip under the covers and not care, and not know that the days were blending together.

It did surprise you how easily she had mentioned Sue though. “Have you heard much from her?”

The smile on her face flickered, and you thought that maybe you had made a mistake.

“No. Actually, Hoseok’s been the one to talk to her when it came to scheduling a time to go over and pack his stuff.” Her fingers tightened around a hardcover and somewhere in the store, the clock chimed at the half hour. “I’m trying, but…it’s going to be a long time.”

Reaching over, you gently squeezed her shoulder as her words died out, not needing an explanation for how she felt. You knew what she meant and if you were being honest, if someone had done the same to you and Namjoon, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive them.

It was as she was taking a deep breath that Sarah tapped the book and snapped her finger at you, drawing a grin out of you. “Since you’re on vacation, you can give these to Namjoon to look at.”

She hurried to the desk, leaving you to take your time as you stood up, lower back popping as you joined her. By the time you leaned on the wooden desk, Sarah had a stack of six hardcovers waiting for you. The pages were yellowed and upon opening the top one, the musty smell of an aged book greeted you. While you loved to read as well, you didn’t get overly excited over the famous book smell that you knew Namjoon and Sarah died for.

“I found them at this flea market Hoseok and I went to,” Sarah explained, opening up another one. The text was small and centered, and as you took a closer look, you realized that they were books of poetry.

“How much for them?” You asked, turning your purse to pull out your wallet.

Sarah waved her fingers though, lightly slapping your hand when you still tried to take it out. “Don’t worry about it. They’re a gift.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you do not accept these on Namjoon’s half, I will pick up the phone and call your Grandmother right now Missy,” Sarah playfully threatened, her smile about ready to break her face in half.

For a moment, there was silence in the little shop, but it didn’t last long as you both broke out in laughter. Even as you agreed and she bagged them up for you, you slipped a few dollars in the little donation jar that her boss insisted be put out.

“Now, why don’t you head home,” Sarah suggested, walking around the desk, and hugged you. “Steal a nap before Namjoon comes home tonight.”

“He’s probably going to be working until midnight again,” you said, accepting the bag.

But Sarah smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that sent you into a fit of giggles. “Not unless you call him and tell him that you need him.”

“You are just as bad as my Grandmother,” you teased, walking towards the door.

Sarah just laughed as you headed outside, shaking your head in amusement. You knew that they meant well, but it was starting to worry you that everyone seemed to be concerned about your sex life with Namjoon, or apparently, the lack of one.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t have one – Namjoon had his heats like every other Hybrid – with everything that’s been going on, there just hadn’t been time to relax and get in the mood. You knew that Sarah was still relatively newly mated to Hoseok, so it wouldn’t surprise you if they were going at it whenever the desire struck.

But as you got into the car, the books for Namjoon carefully sitting on the passenger seat, you weren’t able to stop thinking about it. It felt like forever since Namjoon indicated that he wanted more than a few kisses or a few minutes of cuddling.

Again, despite knowing his love for you, your mind wandered to the other place, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. He hadn’t always had to stay so late, so why had things changed so suddenly?

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kashi-prompts · 3 years

Text

Flowers For A Shinobi

Chapter 12: A Sprig of Lavender

Word Count: 3,097

Pairing: Kakashi x OFC

Previous Chapter ❀ Archive of Our Own Link ❀

A/N: As I said, the fluff was coming. Original art at the end.

6 Months Later

The relentless heat of the mid-day sun coupled with the heavily induced exercise regiment assigned to her that day seemed to be responsible for the halo of sweat around Ayame's body. Her chest heaved to catch her breath as she leaned against the sturdy body of an oak tree.

"C'mon, Ayame-chan! Let's go!" Might Guy encouraged her, his steady jog lapping around the tree she leaned against. "Two more miles!"

"I can't do it," she breathed, clutching the collar of her soaked shirt.

"14 miles is my morning routine!" Guy's smile glistened as he beamed at her, sweat dripping down his temple like rainwater. "Let's go! Before Kakashi assigns you 100 push-ups as well!"

Ayame sighed heavily, the curve of her back weighing her down as she leaned against the tree. Her stomach churned with nausea from the constant stream of blood pumping at high volume through her body.

"Ayame-chan!" Guy called from down the hill, his legs pumping with such a velocity, Ayame could have sworn he was floating over the summer grass. Inhaling slowly, she continued down the mountain to follow the bobbing head of black hair through the field.

Upon reaching the training grounds, Ayame was surprised to see Kakashi missing from the scenery. The white-haired jonin was always there upon her arrival. Generally, on Tuesdays, a different sensei would train her, cycling through the other jonin in the village so that she could get a better feel of how others utilize their strengths. The chaos of training with Might Guy always left her exhausted but earned her the confidence that she had pushed herself.

As the calendar had flipped all the way from spring to late summer, Ayame had worked nearly every day with Kakashi. His prior questionably smitten behavior was exchanged with a stern, pressing instructor. It was almost as though the seemingly mutual tiny flame formed between the two of them had dissipated. Almost.

Kakashi made it very clear from the beginning that he would not be taking it easy on his new student. From the first day she had arrived on the bridge, he had provided her with a rather large box of scrolls and books to read as her first assignment. Then he made her carry them to the training grounds to read them every day.

It certainly wasn't enough to just read the material provided to her, so instead, while Kakashi was on a rather long mission, he appointed a man named Irkua to tutor her for two weeks personally. As the early spring rain had fallen relentlessly outside a dark and dreary classroom, she learned a significantly accelerated version of the very basics of what the children at the academy were learning.

Handseals, weaponry, and types of jutsu had been next. Surprisingly, even herself, she had found that she was considerably skilled at the crafts she was learning. Might Guy had taught her taijutsu, while Kakashi specialized in ninjutsu and a rather pretty jonin named Kurenai explained genjutsu to her.

Again, learning things was never enough for Kakashi. He insisted she experience things as well, moving on to confining her in a genjutsu for twelve hours until she successfully released herself. And even then, he made her do it again to prove she was capable.

When the subject of an academy examination was brought up, Ayame was eager to complete it. In early spring, the assessment was administered to her and a dozen small children, who fit more comfortably in the desks provided than she did. When Iruka had informed her privately the following day that she had passed, her enthusiasm for succeeding could barely be contained.

She had hugged Iruka and thanked him, running through the streets to the bridge where she would meet Kakashi every morning for training. Upon his arrival, the hug she had given him had barely been enough to thank him for the new Konoha headband she wore, realizing that she now had a rank in the shinobi system. A child's rank, but a rank.

"Great job - but this is just the beginning," his crescent eye smiled at her, patting her on the shoulder once she had released his neck from a tight hug. If she hadn't looked right away, she would have missed the blush that crept up his cheekbones from under his mask. The realization had caused her own cheeks to flush.

Despite the moments where their mutual pining arose, she tried not to resent him for the times he made her do things over until it was just right as the recent months had passed. He continuously pushed her to the point of exhaustion on more than one occasion, only to remind her that she would experience this on missions as well. Even so, he would always ensure she made it back home safely.

Now, as she jogged into the grassy plain, she looked around for the turf of silver hair that usually sat perched in a tree, a book in hand, waiting for her. A frown creased her lips as she tried to catch her breath. Perhaps he had been called on a mission, she thought.

A forceful hand slapped her between her shoulder blades, startling her as she was pushed forward a step.

"Great job today," Guy praised, his meaty chest breathing heavily, "we made better time than last month!"

"Thank you, Guy-sensei," Ayame smiled wearily, giving a thankful nod.

"I'll be going now!" He told her quickly, waving as he ran off. Ayame stood in the field, puzzled by his sudden departure. Usually, he would stick around, telling stories of missions and tips that she didn't always ask for, but appreciated nonetheless.

The muffled sound of a sandaled foot-shaped creating an imprint in the grass near her perked her ears. She listened carefully, walking towards the edge of the clearing and lifting her fingers in a cross formation. Coarse, short breaths uttered from her mouth as she then reached for a kunai in her side bag, the act still foreign to her yet oddly comforting. Could someone have known she would be here? Was someone here to ambush her?

The sweeping, bracing sound of two metal weapons clashing against each other filled the field as Ayame spun her body around to meet two mismatched eyes. Surprised by his sudden appearance, she blinked at Kakashi in wonder before realizing what was happening. He purposely was ambushing her.

He swept his leg under her, her lungs breathing in the heady fragrance of adrenaline while she dodged his continuous maneuvers. Her chest felt tight, and her body exhausted from the run, but she still managed to block his attacks.

"You could have at least given me a few minutes to catch my breath," she managed, ducking as his arm punched the air above her head.

"Enemies wouldn't allow you to catch your breath," Kakashi told her sternly, his eye glowing brightly through the shadows of the trees around them. She had only seen his Sharingan twice before. The first being on their mission together, and the second was when she had merely asked him.

"What's under there?" She had asked one afternoon, peering over the academy scrolls she was required to read. He had lifted his head from his book, surprised by her abrupt question.

"It's called a Sharingan," he had explained to her. "I'll teach you about it some other day."

She had waited a few moments, watching his profile as he turned his head back into his book. The perfect curve of his nose that twitched nervously when she was near seemed to draw her in.

"Need something?" He had asked, not looking up. She blushed, realizing he had caught her staring.

"Can I see what it looks like?"

Annoyed or surprised, he turned his head to look at her, hesitating before lifting a thumb to push his forehead protector up. The sight of the glowing red eye was just as jarring then as it was now.

"Push harder," he urged her, pushing the kunai against hers. She launched forward, the unnerving sound of scraping metal on metal permeated her ears. She gritted her teeth in determination.

Behind him, her shadow clone entered from the edge of the field where she had left her, her hands forming different signs in her memory bank to produce four sharp petals from the ground. Each spun through the air to catch Kakashi's shirt, tearing it at his shoulder as he avoided the three others. While he jumped through the air to evade her petaled blades, the real Ayame sunk to the ground with her hands splayed across the grass. In seconds, the grass beneath him turned to moss.

As his sandaled foot slipped on the silky moss, he quickly attempted to steady himself as she launched her body forward, pushing him back onto the ground with a loud thump. With her legs on each side of his chest, she quickly placed her blade under his neck. She smiled as her chest rose and fell, smirking at the famed copy ninja that laid below her with his hands next to his head. Two strings of ivy erupted from the ground to seal him to the earth.

"Ok, you win," he said breathlessly, a chuckle rising from his throat. Ayame smiled, sweat dripping from her temple as she tipped the blade to his chin. Her legs quivered against his ribs from the adrenaline and exertion. She could feel the heat of his body beneath her, the sheer warmth exuding from his skin that penetrated her bare thighs. His eyebrows lessened, lowering down his forehead as his gaze grew quiet. Her hand dropped to his rising chest, exhausted, still clutching the kunai.

Behind her, she felt the cool touch of a blade on the side of her neck, and her body went rigid. Turning, she looked up to see Kakashi's soft smile above her. Under her legs, his solid figure disappeared with a puff of smoke, her eyes blinking at him in exasperation.

"You almost had me," Kakashi smiled at her, setting the blade down to his side. Ayame sighed, sinking her bottom further to the ground between her bent legs.

"Don't be too quick to celebrate," he reminded her, sitting on the ground beside her. "One of the first things you should already know is always to be aware of your surroundings, whether you think the battle is finished or not. You did good with that shadow clone, but you should have also seen mine."

"I understand," she nodded, twiddling her fingers over the blade of her weapon. As her heart rate finally began to steady at an average pace, she sighed heavily and leaned back into the grassy plain. Carefully, her sensei did the same, reaching in his back pocket for his book as she closed her eyes, rethinking what she could have done differently—perhaps having two shadow clones? One to serve as a lookout and one to tap in during battle?

Her stomach constricted, angry with herself for being distracted at the last moment. She had him there, tied up. If it weren't for his shadow clone - and the way he had looked at her - then maybe she would have heard the real Kakashi behind her. Such a simple move, really. She should have been more aware.

"Just be more aware next time," she heard him say beside her as if reading her thoughts. Her head turned, looking over at him as the golden hour sun cast a halo of yellow around them—a triangle of light under his eye and little dips of dark gray in his hair. She hated how attracted she was to him. She had pushed it down, determined to see him as her teacher and nothing more. If possible, they could be friends, but that was the extent she was willing to go for him. The thought of something more stirred a fire in her belly.

"I know," she agreed, nodding her head as she turned to look up at the sky. Puffs of clouds traveled quickly through the orange and purple sky, like an oil painting, but more refined. She thought again of the sparring match as she observed his slender fingers dance restlessly over the cover of the book he held.

"How many times have you read that book?" she asked abruptly, catching a glimpse of the tattered spine and bent pages. His thumb held his page as his eyes continued to skim the words. She noticed that he hadn't turned the page in some time.

"A few," he responded casually, his other arm bent behind his head for comfort.

"Is it good?" Ayame laughed, realizing it was certainly more than "a few" times.

"I would say so," Kakashi shrugged, smirking at her laughter.

"Could I read it?"

Kakashi chuckled quietly, his smile beneath his mask evident from the shadows the sun created behind him. "If you want, I could let you borrow it. But only briefly."

"I would like that," she smiled, "I know it can be pretty raunchy."

Kakashi closed his book quickly and looked over at her, seemingly taken aback by her response while his index finger held his page.

Ayame felt a giggle rise in her throat at his expression and apparent loss of words. "I mean, it's not like I've never read a romance book before."

"It's more than romance," he commented quickly, waving the tabbed book at her. Her eyes caught sight of how tattered it truly was. She wondered fleetingly why he was so invested in reading this book. Perhaps it was a method of distraction.

"You don't use bookmarks, do you?" she questioned, her eyes still on the book that now laid on his chest.

"I just rely on folding the pages," he said, watching her as she clasped her hands together in a familiar jutsu. Beside her, a small lavender sprig rose from the earth, its purple petals off-color in the setting sun. Carefully, she picked it from the ground and twirled it between her thumb and index finger.

"Here," she smiled softly at him, "as a bookmark. It smells nice too. Lavender helps keep you calm."

Kakashi looked over at her, his eyes dancing between the sprig of lavender and the affectionate gaze she offered him. She didn't mean to look at him the way she did, but something twisted within her that she couldn't stop. Everything he had done for her whirled in her mind. The last seven months that they had known each other and all of their interactions. She simply felt grateful for him.

He reached over and delicately took the sprig from her hand, brushing his fingers against hers, whether on accident or purposely, she wasn't sure. She was certain, however, of the beam of sunlight that hit his neck, illuminating a pulse that seemed to be beating rather quickly.

"Thank you," Kakashi responded quietly. She looked at him, and he looked at her. Both unsure of what to do, but both quite certain of what they wanted to do. Ayame could feel the blood pumping in her ears, a wave of heat ricocheting off her spine to every nerve ending in her body. Her skin tingled where he had grazed it, the feeling of a calloused fingertip touching hers, wondering what it would be like to feel more of them.

Suddenly the distance between them wasn't so far. The tickle of the grass on her cheek barely noticeable as she leaned closer. His single black eye stared directly into hers, flickering down to her lips in a way that made her stomach somersault.

She had been the one to lean forward, to press her lips against his and soak in his intoxicating scent of sweat and cedar. The electric shock that twisted through her body as she felt him exhale in relief against her lips, the fabric between them muting the heat his breath gave off. All she could hear was their blended heavy sighs.

Her bones rattled with satisfaction, feeling the months of yearning peel away from her. She lifted her hand, gently clutching his jacket as his hand came to rest on her jawbone. Her whole body tingled at the heat of his palm. She felt his fingertips curl into her braid, pulling her against him over the grassy field. She felt delirious as he tenderly moved his lips against hers.

She could have stayed there for days. To feel the mingling satisfaction of his body near hers and the exhilarating sensation of that damned mask against her mouth. He was near her for only seconds, not nearly long enough, and yet -

"Ayame-san?" a feminine voice called out from the outskirts of the training ground. Without hesitation, they both pulled away, furiously blushing. Her ears rung from the interaction, and her body shook from the thrill.

"Ayame-san?" It was that pink-haired kunoichi nurse that had helped her in the hospital.

"Hello, Sakura," Kakashi greeted, delicately placing the sprig of lavender in his book. His face was purposely shielded from the kunoichi's sight, yet when Ayame peeked over, she could see the very tops of his cheeks were tinged rose.

"Oh, Kakashi-sensei," Sakura smiled, waving happily at him. She looked between the two, both clearly flustered but trying desperately to hide it. Ayame looked up at the girl, realizing this must have been one of his previous students that now trains under Lady Tsunade to be a medic. He had spoken of them a few times, all fondly. But she had wondered fleetingly if it bothered him that they had moved on to other training endeavors.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but-"

"You're not interrupting anything," The pinkette's sensei quickly responded, standing to his feet. Ayame followed suit, casually brushing the dirt from her clothing.

Sakura nodded, pursing her lips to hide a smile, "Right. Well, I am here for Ayame-san. If you don't mind, Lady Tsunade would like to speak with her. It's rather urgent, or else it could have waited."

"The Hokage would like to speak with me?" Ayame reiterated, surprised.

"Yes," Sakura nodded, "I'll explain more on the way there. But we have to hurry."

"Right," Ayame nodded, her eyebrows focused again as she tried to sweep away the interaction that had just happened.

She began to follow Sakura, her pink hair bobbing as she ran back towards the village. Ayame turned, lifting her hand to wave goodbye only to find him facing away from her, nervously scratching his head as he looked out towards the setting sun.

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A/N: Original art by the talented Caro on Twitter! It was originally a different flower but I changed it

I hope you stuck this far and I hope you like it so far! Feedback is always appreciated <3 Thank you so much for reading!

#Kakashi Hatake #kakashi hatake/original character #kakashi fanfiction #hatake kakashi #kakashi x oc #kakashi hatake x original character #kakashi x original female character #Sakura Haruno #Sakura #Naruto Shippuden #naruto fanfiction #naruto fandom #anime fanfictions #anime fanfiction #original art

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busybby · 3 years

Photo

hello everyone! no one asked for this but notion is now my guilty pleasure so i wanted to join in on creating some notion content (you have no idea how much time i've spent watching notion youtube videos, on notiontwt, and messing with my own notion). honestly i wasn't able to find a notion setup or template that i felt was perfect for me and it took me a long time to acknowledge this and be okay with it (lol this sounds so dramatic). i wanted to use it because it seemed so helpful, but for so long it was so frustrating. i'd spend so much time trying to make it work and then never return to any pages i set up. ultimately, i had to be very intentional about notion: what i wanted to use it for, how often i wanted to use it, etc. the problem was that i felt too overwhelmed to try to just make a set up from scratch. that being said, in this post i'm going to go over not only my own set up but how i got to it.

i actually found notion via @noodledesk back in the spring! their posts and set up inspired me to start researching and watching youtube videos. at this point i was just using notion's built in templates. i wanted to make them more personalized, but i was still confused about notion so it didn't go well and i eventually abandoned them. then, over the summer, i rediscovered noodledesk's task prioritization template and began using that. i ended up using it for a longggg time, probably from july to october! i altered it a teeny bit and over time added a few things to personalize it more. here's a pic of how it looks as of the last time i used it!

as you can see it's basically a big grid organized by days and amount of time the task will require. there's some less organized stuff at the bottom and on top is my morning routine, a random motivational picture, a quote i like, and links to things i use daily like my google calendar.

this set up worked really well for me over the summer when i had absolutely no structure in my life, but once i was back in school and working two jobs, i found i don't need so much help prioritizing my tasks but rather a big space for me to see everything. and when i say everything, i mean literally everything.

around this time, i discovered notiontwt (notion twitter) and found sooo many beautiful spreads! they were so cute and inspired me a lot. this is one set up i attempted to use (i especially liked the weekly spread) and this is one that i made myself using a 'pack' of graphics as a kind of theme.

like i said the graphics (header and calendar) are from the artist i linked above. the fanart of harry styles is by this artist. also just something that i think is important and could be a helpful reminder is to always put sources/artists for any images or art you include at the bottom of your pages! even if you're the only one seeing the page!! also of course ask if the image is okay to use!

so i tried to use that spread for october and again... it was abandoned. i also was using it in conjunction with the priority page and an 'assignments masterlist' database i have but things were just not working. i think this is the point that i decided that i would just be creative, let things flow, and do what i wanted. i took pieces from set ups that i liked, made my own little pieces, and added them to a blank page that i titled 'my brain.' 'my brain' really helped to free up my mind. calling it that made me center the page on myself and only use things that i liked and that worked for me (& ignore all the aesthetic stuff i was seeing). i felt free to delete some things and add others even if i didn't know exactly how i wanted them to look or function. in addition, i even added a little section to that page where i wrote, "i want this to be a space of fluid exploration so i can move things around as i figure out what works best for me," as a reminder of what that page was meant to be. i also started bulking up my 'essentials page' which i'll go through another time, but it was important in creating this page and keeping it focused on my daily needs.

going into this 'project' there were a few elements i knew i liked from things i'd tried and things i'd seen. these were: images, a grid layout (from noodledesk's priority page), a full page, quotes, organization by weekday. so, the first thing i did was make these elements in my page. then i arranged them into a layout that i liked (loosely inspired by, again, noodle desk): list on the left, image on the right. this is what it looked like:

at the top, there is a callout that says "today" and it's meant to overview everything that should be in my head on that particular day or... every day. underneath there are three columns, one for tasks (check list), one for events and random thoughts (reminders) and one for general inspiration. the inspiration column has the callout with the goal of the page that i already discussed, a painting by my favorite artist, and a quote that i liked from a book i've read recently.

underneath all of that is more of a future look-ahead. i have a grid-style weekly planner and then a linked database that i use every day. i learned how to make this database from @blacklinguist‘s post.and under all that i just have some other stuff.

so this is basically what i began working with! since, i've added sub sections to organzize my to-do list, a goal section, and a cute picture next to my weekly grid. i just added these as they came to me. for example, i wanted to do this one reading challenge but I always forget about goals because i put them deep into other pages and then forget about them. so i made a section on my main page for them!

also if it's important, the assignments masterlist is sorted by due date, but in the weekly grid i put the tasks under the day that they're due. so you can see my falling man reading is due on dec.1, but i need to actually do it before then so in the weekly grid it's under the monday heading (and tuesday but that's because i doubt i'll finish it monday). i also try to add the dates of the week to those headings so i don't get confused but usually i forget. i at least try to bold the current day. random note but that's one thing i had trouble with in a lot of the templates i was trying before. they usually only organized things by due or 'do' date, but my brain really requires both so i made sure to include that here. BUT i wasn't aware of that before. i honestly just put that into words and realized it now. that's why it's important to just add absolutely anything that you think might help you even a little bit. anywho, here it is in its current state:

and that's pretty much it! another time i can go over the other pages i use, but this is my version of what a lot of notion users call a dashboard and this is what I've put the most effort into making work for me. i hope this helps you in some way whether it's using this format exactly, taking some inspiration, or just realizing that notion is super flexible and can work for you (even if it's intimidating right now). also i'm so sorry if this is overwhelming but i think it's super satisfying lol. let me know if you have any questions or ideas and please message me about notion because i love talking about it.

#notion #notion set up #oc #studyblr #studyspo #studyblr community

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generalfoolish · 3 years

Text

Feel The Heat

Part Two: Something More

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Rating: 18+ (b/c minors shouldn't lurk, it is illegal and not polite.) But this is big fluff, just more exposition and pining and world building. I do curse, so there's that.

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: June and Frankie are big idiots, and they keep bumping into each other in the wildest of places. Again, and I can't overstate this: they’re both MASSIVE idiots.

A/N: Hey babes! This is going a little slower bc I want to give more with each update, I normally keep around 1K and these are little beasts. But I'm excited with the story, some threads are exposing themselves, and there will be more Frankie X OC time in the next part. For now, enjoy this little taste of yearning and pining and overthinking and general angst over meeting a cute new somebody. 💕

Masterlist | Part One | Part Three

June checked her phone as she stirred the pot, and groaned at the email count. More than half were parents who “couldn’t” make the conference, and the rest were from her principal wanting to reiterate the importance of those meetings. She dropped the phone back to the counter, and focused on her pot. She had googled what to do with Brandywines, and had decided on a slowly simmered tomato sauce. It paired beautifully with the fresh garlic and basil she had picked up, and the whole house smelled like an Italian restaurant.

This was her favorite way to use up produce in the summer. She spent hours simmering and canning, and got to enjoy the fruits of her labor in the dead of winter. She knew she could easily gift the sauce made from those beautiful tomatoes, and she had every intention of doing so.

Sundays passed so quickly, she hardly had time to dwell on the farmer, but when she caught a whiff of her stove she had to find something to do. She worked through the emails, sending reminders that the conferences were mandatory, and that if the parents couldn’t make it during the week before or after school, she was available to meet online. She fought the temptation to open her weekends. She was working on work boundaries with her therapist.

June had an easier time fighting off thoughts of the farmer as the day waned on, and she thought, foolishly, that she could just forget the brown eyed grump she had met.

Frankie was having a hard time focusing on anything. Liv was a bundle of energy, and he tried not to snap at her. He had her come help him in the garden, but he ended up sending her to dig for worms after she trampled another vine.

“Ew! Worms are gross.” She argued.

“I know, but didn’t you want to go fishing? Fish eat worms, it’s how we can get them out of the water.” He explained, carefully. She considered him, then bounded off, calling out to the worms. He chuckled watching her, and went back to pulling weeds. With a moment of quiet, his mind flitted back to the woman. He couldn’t help it. He had dreamt of her. She was lounging in the back of his mind, waiting for him to stumble into the memory. Liv was a good distraction, but she only held the woman at bay for so long. He grumbled and wiped his brow. He decided to give it up for now, the woman and the weeding.

“Princess, I think we have some hotdogs. Let’s try those.” He called over to Liv, who excitedly left behind her freshly dug hole.

“Daddy, Mrs. Becka wanted me to remind you about the school stuff.” Liv told him, grabbing his hand as they walked. He exhaled sharply. He had forgotten the meetings. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through Becka’s texts. She had sent him the teacher’s number at some point, he knew, the trouble was finding it. Finally, he clicked the blue hyper-linked number and called it. Liv ran inside ahead of him, looking for the hot dogs, and he waited at the door as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Ms. Collins answered breathlessly, and he cleared his throat.

“Ms. Collins? It’s Olivia Morales’ dad, calling about the meeting?” He heard something clatter on the other end. “Is now an okay time?”

“Yes, sorry, Mr. Morales, I was just...it doesn’t matter. My schedule is a little tight, when did you have in mind?”

“Something early, maybe before drop-off?”

“Sure, uhm, let me check my calendar,” She sounded distant, he thought, probably on speaker. “Yeah, Tuesday morning? I know that’s quick, it is all I have though.”

“Yeah, I can be there. Like 7am?”

“Yes, that’s great. See you then.” The line disconnected and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard her voice before. He rolled his eyes at himself, of course he had. She was his daughter’s teacher. As if on cue, Liv ran out with a hot dog. He smiled brightly and ruffled her hair.

“‘Kay, kiddo, let’s go catch some fish.” She grinned at him brightly, showing off the hole her first lost tooth had made. His heart caught as he realized she was growing up so fast.

“Monday’s really are the worst.” June laughed. She had her mom on the phone, connected through Bluetooth. “I’m just leaving the school now!”

“I just don’t see why you’re having to set these meetings up now. The kids have hardly been in school for a couple of weeks.” June sighed as she merged on the highway to head home.

“I know, it's just something my district does. The hard part is wrangling parents.”

“Well, if you had any children, you’d know how much they require of you.” June rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose. Her mom was always quick to bring up her lack of a partner and children. Not that June didn’t want those things, they just haven't panned out for her yet.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m sure you’re right.” She acquiesced, knowing the argument wasn’t worth the effort.

“Have you met anyone? You’re only getting older, you know.”

“Thanks Mom. Uh, I have a date tomorrow night, actually.”

“Well, what’s his name, do I know him? What does he do for work?” June rolled her eyes, and wondered why she had answered the call.

“I don’t know anything about him. It’s a blind date.”

“Not even a name?” June bit her lip, debating telling her Mom the nickname.

“He’s ex-Army, goes by Fish. That’s all I know. Oh, and he’s single. A new teacher sat it up for me.” June explained, hoping her Mom wouldn’t have much to say.

“Fish? Oh, wow. Terrence really messed you up, huh.”

“I’m getting a call from a parent, I’ll talk to you later.” June lied, ending the call. Terrence had really messed her up. Not that that was of any importance to her dating life, or this blind date’s name. She sighed hard as she pulled into her driveway.

“Monday’s really are the worst.” She told the empty space of her car. She grabbed her bag and hurried inside. It had been a long day, and she was ready to polish off her bottle of wine from the night before. She walked in and let her bag drop to the floor, and crossed to the staircase. She groaned as she climbed the stairs. She was exhausted and still had a ton left to do.

June stripped quickly and threw on her yard work clothes. She stopped by the kitchen and poured some wine into a cup with a lid, before making her way outside. The day before she had started a small garden, and she was determined to make something grow out of it. She had no idea what she was doing, though. The wine wasn’t really helping either.

She had been short with a few parents while she was tending the fragile plants. It was a little late in the season to try and start anything, but she had picked up some discount plants that she wanted to help limp along for a little longer. She hoped she hadn’t put any of the parents off, and tried to remember who all had called.

June wiped her forehead with her gloved hand and tried to sort them out. Steven’s mom, Cynthia, was meeting her during lunch. That would be short, thankfully. Steven was a good kid, quiet. Graham and Ginger’s grandma was coming Wednesday afternoon, the parents were out of the country for something. Mia’s dad was going to call during the planning period. Ashley’s mom was coming Tuesday afternoon. And Olivia’s dad was coming Tuesday morning. June felt her shoulders sag, and she drained her wine. That wasn’t even half of the parents left.

She gave up on the garden and stalked inside. She wanted to scare up something for dinner, but didn’t really feel like making anything. She gave in and called the local Indian place. They knew her order, and said they’d be there soon. She grimaced, wondering how much money she had spent on Vindaloo over the years, and decided not to think about it. She had enough time to slip in the shower to wash the sweat off, before the delivery guy knocked on her door. She tipped him generously, and sat down on the couch.

June clicked the tv on and scrolled through her watch list. She settled on some mind-numbing detective show, and ate half of the curry. She put the rest away, and grabbed her bag by the door. The bag was a mess, but she managed to find her red pen and the papers that needed grading, and she settled back in.

Soon, the mindless task paired with a full stomach and the wine had her falling into a deep sleep.

Frankie was pissed. He was giving up the best time of the day for harvesting to meet with Liv’s teacher, and Ms. Collins couldn’t be bothered to show up. His thoughts went back to the phone call the day before, and he gritted his teeth as he realized she had put him off twice. Over something she had wanted to set up. He’d gotten the bundles of paper she had sent home on it. Yet, here he was, and she was nowhere to be found. He pulled his phone out, and considered punching in her number, but stopped himself.

Frankie had to exhale deeply four times before he could lay his phone down. He had gotten here a little early, and it was just now 7 am, and he didn’t have a set schedule. Liv was with Ashley, Becka had insisted on taking them to drop off so he could have plenty of time with Ms. Collins. Not that it mattered now, he thought, dryly. At ten past, he pulled his phone back out, and brought her name up. He was angry again, and had every intention of calling. But before he could press her name, the door swung open, and his heart dropped.

June woke with a start. The birds were singing outside, the light was all wrong, and she was on the couch. Shit, she thought, jumping up. Shit, shit, shit. She had overslept. She hurried up the stairs and threw on something presentable, and didn’t even check herself in the mirror. She could do her makeup in the class. She grabbed up the half graded papers and shoved them in her bag, and ran out the door. She dumped everything in the passenger seat and drove much faster than usual. She was about halfway to the school when she realized she was meeting a student’s parent this morning. She hadn’t had any coffee, and her brain was starting to slow down from the adrenaline of being late, and she could not remember who she was meeting. She parked, and popped her vanity mirror down and grimaced. She looked like she was having a bad morning. She decided to throw her hair up in a messy bun, and grabbed the mess up from her passenger seat.

She basically ran into the building, her flats ricocheting sound off the concrete walls. She swung her door open, apologies already falling from her lips, when she looked at the parent. The apologies died on her lips, and her mouth fell open.

“You?” She asked, dumbly. “Frankie?” He looked like he had seen a ghost, a bitchy ghost, she grimaced.

“You?” He stood now, and started to move to her.

“Uhm, you can’t be here. I’m meeting a student’s parent, and how’d you even know where to find me?” She started rambling, but when the words were out she realized how stupid they were. “Oh my god, you’re the parent?” She barked out a laugh, and dumped her bag on her desk. He grinned, and wiped the back of his neck.

“Liv’s dad. I’m Frankie Morales.” He told her, faltering from shaking her hand.

“Perfect. I’m Juniper Collins, you can call me June, or Ms. Collins, whatever you prefer. I’m sorry I’m late, I...I started a garden yesterday and wore myself out. That’s what I was doing when we spoke on the phone,” She told him, laughing. June had only tried gardening because she wanted a common foot with him. She didn’t want to tell him that yet, though. “Anyway, let’s get to Liv. Liv is a great girl, Mr. Morales.”

“Frankie.” He interrupted, with a small smile.

“Okay, Frankie. Look, Liv is great, she really is. She struggles in class sometimes, though. She is smart as hell, but she seems to struggle. I wanted to give you some information about ADD or ADHD. It presents differently in girls, and is often overlooked. I haven’t known her long, obviously, but I actually was diagnosed much later in life, and I remember doing some of the things she’s doing. Would you be interested in some info on that?” June asked carefully, their relationship was rocky and weird, and she didn’t want to overstep. This was her job, though. It was a little bit not her job, actually. But she always wanted to look out for her girls, especially when they were as smart and incredible as Liv.

“Oh, wow. I had no idea she was struggling.” Frankie muttered, and removed his cap. June sucked in a sharp breath at his light brown, bouncy curls as they spilled out. He was beautiful. She distracted herself by moving behind her desk and grabbing a folder she had laid out for Liv, for this exact reason, and she thanked her past self for being put together. Then she went and sat beside him at the small activity table. She felt comical sitting next to him in the small chairs, he was spilling over his own. She laid down the folder and put a hand on his arm.

“Look, it isn’t a struggle that she notices yet. It’s her recall, her attention span, and her ability to focus. That sounds like a lot, I know, but there’s a simple test, and there are effective alternatives to stimulants. I’m on one, and it really helped me. Life is only going to get harder for her, if she has it and it remains untreated, but she has no idea. She isn’t “different” yet, and she’s doing so, so well in class. She is a model student. I just want to help, that’s all.” She watched his face as she spoke, and by the end, he seemed defeated.

“I should have noticed. I’m her dad. I...I’ve been worried I’m not around enough, and now you drop this on me.” He laughed dryly. She patted his arm.

“Liv talks about you all the time. She loves you, Frankie. She tells us all the time about her pilot dad.” June said it before she had time to think, before she connected “Liv’s Dad” with Frankie, the man before her. And then, her big mouth spit out something she wanted to take back immediately. “But you’re a farmer, right?” He looked up into her eyes, and his face was hard.

“Anything else you wanted to tell me about Liv?” His words were right, but the tone was too harsh. June flinched back from him, and dropped her gaze from his suddenly hard face.

“Liv is a great girl. She’s great to have in class. I have nothing else for you.” June told him monotonically, going on autopilot so as not to cry. She had spent the whole weekend thinking about him, then she had planted a stupid garden to have more in common with him, and then fate brought them back together, and she screwed it up again. She decided it was done, then. Frankie Morales was not in the cards for her. Sure, she might see him again because she taught his daughter, but she was through thinking of him like that.

“Good. I have to get going, next time try to be on time.” He scolded, as he stood abruptly and left without another word. Slowly, June followed and shut the door behind him. Alone, at last, she started crying.

~~~

“Idiot. You fucking idiot.” Frankie berated himself in his truck. He couldn’t believe it when she swept into the room. He had found her. Not her, he thought with a grimace, Juniper. The name felt so appropriate. It was an old name, but it suited her so perfectly. He exhaled roughly and tried to rewrite the scene. She was looking out for Liv. She wanted Liv to be happy and succeed. This woman cared more about his daughter than Liv’s own mother. And as soon as she tried to get to know him, he bit her head off and made her feel bad for being late. Jesus, what a dick. He had found her, and in a single moment, he had managed to ruin it again.

He put the truck in drive and headed home. Nothing left to do here, he thought bitterly. He was pulling up the driveway when he remembered that she had started a garden. It wasn’t a coincidence, he realized. She had started a garden because of him. He parked the truck and laid his head against the steering wheel. He had pushed her away at every turn. The market, the bar, and now at the school. He had seen her face before he left, and knew it was done. He had pushed too far, too fast. Of course, she would want nothing more to do with him. He had done nothing but treat her like shit.

He got out of the truck and threw his hat. It didn’t do much except get his cap dirty, but it was all he could do. He pulled his phone out, and pulled her name up. He typed a long message, and erased it. Then he tried again, and erased it again. His pride was getting in the way. He couldn’t tell her about his piloting years. The army, spec ops, Colombia, the coke, or any of it. She could just hate him, and then he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

~~~~

June paced up and down her classroom. Her face was puffy, still, and she had been struggling to focus all day. She couldn’t meet anyone new for dinner; she wasn’t in the right headspace for a date. Let alone one where she would have to leave a lasting impression. She chewed her thumb nail before heading down the hall.

Samantha's classroom was pretty close to her own, and June was glad for it. If she had had to walk further she would have lost her nerve. June knocked tentatively on the door, before pulling it open. Samantha looked up and grinned.

"Hey girl! Are you excited for your big date tonight?" June’s own smile fell from her face.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I want to cancel." Samantha's smile pulled down quickly.

"Why?"

"I'm having kind of a bad day for impressions," June told her flatly.

"Well, I couldn't if I wanted to. Santiago is out of town, no reception. I don't have the friend's number." June groaned.

"Okay, alright. Ugh, probably for the best. Do you know anything else about him? I’ve had kind of a rough day. You said, ex-military right?”

“Yeah, Santi doesn’t really talk about that time, and I haven’t pushed it. I met him a while back, Fish. He’s sweet. I think he’ll be your type. You like tan brunettes?” June nodded, laughing and thinking about Frankie Morales again.

“He’ll be perfect. Doesn’t say much and likes beer, that’s all I know.” Samantha gave a small shrug.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll let you finish eating.” June said, excusing herself.

She left feeling defeated. A parent was going to be late this afternoon, she had gotten the email after the Frankie disaster. Which meant that she was going to be late to dinner. She wasn't killing it in the men department so she hoped that despite a military background he wouldn't mind her tardiness. She couldn't handle another horrible scene like the one from this morning.

The rest of the day was uneventful, which she was glad for. Her nerves were on the edge. She tried to ignore how much Liv favored her dad, and how she loudly told the class about their upcoming camping trip. She found herself listening intently, despite herself. And even chuckled at the girl’s memories of the last trip. June’s mood improved with the day, too. She even played a little music in the background while the kids worked on their worksheets.

By the time she had hauled herself into her car, the last thing she wanted to do was go to dinner. But she swiped on her favorite lipstick and drove to the restaurant. If she broke the speed limit, she would only be about five minutes late, and she pushed it. She wanted to drink some wine, and forget about Frankie Morales. Another tan brunette in her life would do her good, she thought happily. She was tired, but she wanted to make the most of it.

---

Frankie was looking back and forth between the menu and his watch. He couldn't believe that another woman was about to be late on him. He was trying hard to get June out of his mind, and his blind date wasn't making it easy on him. He chuckled when he realized what he was doing. Just meeting a total stranger for dinner. He didn't have much choice in the matter, he thought, remembering how Pope had basically told him where and when, without asking if Frankie was even interested.

She had good taste, he conceded. This was his favorite spot. They made amazing, fresh pasta. He was eyeing the cocktail menu, when she rushed in. He couldn't believe he was running into her again.

It was June, because of course it was. She was flushed, probably late again, he huffed, but she had put on a bright red lipstick that made his heart stutter. He lowered his gaze back to the menu. He hoped she wouldn't see him out on a date, even if he saw her. The hope was short lived because she made her way to him, her eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't place, and she exhaled deeply.

"Let me guess, your call sign is Fish, right?" His eyes snapped to hers and she laughed while nodding. It was her. He had found her again. The waiter walked over and she told him to bring a bottle of red, and a beer for him. He told the waiter his brand, and raked his eyes over her.

"Sorry I'm late, I had a crazy day." She mused once she had taken two deep sips of her wine.

"Yeah? What is it you do?" He asked, hoping beyond hope that this was their start over. Their fourth, or so, start over.

"Teacher. Yeah, I teach. Most days it's easy, but some days there are parents." She told him, her cheeks flushed.

"Hopefully, no jerks?" He asked, quickly taking a sip of his beer. She held her head to the side before she sighed.

"I don't know what's going on here, Frankie. It's kind of exhausting. I think you're pretty handsome, you grow amazing food, you have a beautiful daughter, but I think we just keep messing up. How about, just for now, we enjoy this meal and the company, and tomorrow we can talk about what it means that we can't keep away from each other?" He searched her eyes. She was tired, he could tell, but she was so sincere. He wanted desperately to know why she sat down instead of just leaving. He wanted to know why they were seemingly so connected. He wanted to know if he'd been on her mind too.

"I'm thinking the carbonara." He answered, and she smiled before looking the menu over herself. The rest could wait. He had found her again.”

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #Frankie Morales x oc #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #original character #feel the heat #juniper collins #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal

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degrassi-fanatic · 3 years

Text

Your Father’s Son

With his back towards the door of the master bedroom, Reid rests on his side as he attempts to even out his breathing. Though the house is completely silent, he can barely register the sound of the front door clicking open over the breaths he has to heave into his lungs, nor does he notice the footfalls steadily making their way towards his direction, not until Aaron is stood in front of him.

Reid doesn’t bother making eye contact, only dropping his focus to the wooden panels of the bedroom floor and the socks adorning Aaron’s feet.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, the worry evident in his voice as he sits down on the empty space beside Reid.

The only response he receives from Reid is a barely-there nod.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” he says softly.

Without another word, Aaron tugs the younger man upwards, just enough to be able to slide in and sit behind him. Arms wrap around Reid’s midsection, while Aaron pushes his chest further into Reid’s back.

For a while, the two of them remain quiet. Reid doesn’t say anything and Aaron doesn’t ask him anything else, only waiting patiently for him to gather the courage to say whatever it was that was bothering him.

How could he, though?

Everytime Reid merely thinks about what happened, his throat closes up and his eyes begin to sting.

God, it’s just like him to be dealt a mortal blow by a seven year old’s words.

The day had started off as a regular Saturday for the three of them; Aaron went for his daily run, while Reid watched over Jack, who was practicing his soccer drills in the backyard. They all ate breakfast together and soon Morgan was calling Aaron, asking if he was available to help him fix up some houses.

Once Aaron had left Jack and Reid alone in the house, all hell had broken loose. All Reid had done was ask Jack to go finish up his homework so he wouldn’t be cramming Sunday evening, and soon the two of them were arguing over nothing.

For someone with an eidetic memory, his brain didn’t seem to want to recall the details for once. Perhaps, his brain was only trying to protect him from the worst of it all.

Yet, Reid has no clue what could be worse than hearing your son shout that you weren’t his father?

“He said I wasn’t his father.” Reid croaks out, water already collecting in his eyes.

“What?”

“We had a disagreement,” he explains before swallowing hard, in an attempt to keep himself from crying, “Then, suddenly, he was shouting at me that I wasn’t his father.”

Palms run up and down the sides of Reid’s arms to help soothe him but it’s to no avail as he begins to hiccup uncontrollably; tears rolling down his face and dripping down his chin. He presses his face into the side of Aaron’s neck, as if to hide away from all of his problems.

“Jack doesn’t know what he’s saying.” Aaron murmurs softly, almost unheard over the sound of Reid crying.

“Sounded like he did.”

“He’s just a kid,” he says, “Jack didn’t mean it.”

“Easy for you to say.” Reid mumbles into the skin of Aaron’s throat, “You’re his father.”

He hears Aaron sigh before his fingers lace through the thick strands of Reid’s hair, tugging him up to face Aaron. Using the ends of his sleeves, he wipes away at the tears pooling under Reid’s lashline and his runny nose.

“How about this?” he begins, “I’ll get Jack to apologize to you.”

Before he has even finished speaking, Reid is already shaking his head in refusal.

What’s the point? He knows Jack means it, that he doesn’t think of Reid as his father, no matter how many times he calls him Papa.

“Don’t be like that.” Aaron admonishes gently.

Before Reid can start on a disapproving tangent, Aaron gets up from the bed, and heads out of the bedroom, marching down the hall to Jack’s own.

Knowing that there is no way out of the situation, Reid takes a deep breath in as he forces himself to calm down and get a hold of himself; Jack may not be his son but he refuses to let him feel guilty at the sight of Reid crying.

As Reid focuses on drawing in consistent breaths, he hears the telltale sound of sock-clad feet hitting the floor and he looks up to find Aaron carrying Jack. The boy is frowning, and just the sight of him makes Reid want to start crying all over again.

Reid positions himself so he’s sitting cross-legged as Aaron sets Jack down right in front of him on the comforter. Beside the bed, Aaron hovers over Reid with his hands on his hips as he looks at his son expectantly.

“Jack, don’t you have something to say to your papa?” Aaron questions.

In front of him, Jack scrunches up his face in disdain before folding his arms across his chest and pointedly looking away from the two of them.

At his reaction, Aaron loudly exhales before bringing a hand up to wipe at his face, while Reid tries his absolute best to rein in the tears.

“Jack,” Aaron says sternly, “If you don’t apologize to your papa, you’re not going to the planetarium with him tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with Spencer.” Jack sneers as he finally turns to look at the two of them again.

“Don’t call your papa by his name.” Aaron scolds.

“Why doesn’t Spencer go with Henry, huh?” Jack retorts.

What?

The words are enough to pull Reid out of his little pathetic episode as both he and Aaron twist to look at each other; sharing a look of confusion at the abrupt mention of Henry.

Why on Earth did Jack mention Henry? He had nothing to do with this.

Or did he?

Before anyone else can get another word out, Reid reaches out for Aaron’s hand. He tugs on it to gain his attention before tilting his head in the direction of the door. Needing no further prompting, Aaron leaves both Jack and Reid alone before shutting the door behind him, giving them some privacy.

“Why did you mention Henry?” Reid questions.

“Who cares?”

“I care, Jack.” he says, “Okay, listen, I just want to know why you said I wasn’t your father.”

“Whatever.”

This was going to be a lot harder than Reid thought.

“Jack…”

Scooting closer to the boy, Reid reaches out for Jack’s hands, only to have him yank them away from his grasp. The reaction has Reid biting back a sob because before this afternoon, Jack used to cling to him at every available opportunity. He used to hold Reid’s hand no matter how many times his cousins teased him for not being a big boy. Jack used to climb into Reid’s lap for his bedtime story. He used to—

Jack never used to move away from Reid’s touches.

What had happened to the two of them? What did Reid do to them?

“Why don’t you go ask Henry?” Jack snarls.

And what did Henry have anything to do with all of this?

“What is your problem with Henry?” Reid asks, exasperated, “I thought you two were friends.”

The frown on Jack’s face tapers off. Instead, his brows come together as if he is deep thought. Soon, he drops his head down to stare at the comforter, in place of looking at Reid.

“He is my friend.” he answers back, slowly as if he’s confirming with himself.

“Then, why do you keep mentioning him?”

“Because he’s your godson.” Jack says as if that’s an answer.

“I still don’t know what’s going on, Jack.” Reid pleads.

Jack’s arms fall away from his chest. His tiny hands forming fists in the comforter he’s clutching between his fingers.

“You don’t remember do you?” he questions, quietly.

Reid has no clue where this sudden streak of sadness came from but, all he knows is he wants to remedy it as quickly as he can. He lowers his head enough to meet Jack’s eyes, which are now full of unshed tears.

“Remember what?” Reid asks, gently.

“Last week, you forgot to come to my science fair.” Jack explains as he lifts his head up to look at Reid, “I spent so long making my project and I was going to show it to you and I kept waiting and waiting and waiting but you never showed up. When I asked Dad and Aunt Jess where you were, they thought you already told me you weren’t going to be there.”

Reid had missed Jack’s science fair?

It shouldn’t have been that terribly big of an ordeal except Reid had promised to be there. Jack said he was going to make a project that even someone as smart as Reid would be impressed by, proud of even.

Little did Jack know, Reid was going to be proud, regardless of what he made.

Except he couldn’t be because he had somehow missed it, which should have been impossible with a memory like his and even if it wasn’t, Reid had written it into every single calendar in the house and at the office, and he had Garcia help him set a reminder on his cellphone.

“I thought your science fair was next Tuesday.” Reid admits, brokenly.

How could Reid have missed Jack’s science fair?

“No, it was last Tuesday.” Jack says.

Suddenly, Reid knows exactly why Jack has been mentioning Henry this entire time and it makes his chest ache.

“The same day I went to Henry’s soccer game.” Reid states.

“You picked Henry over me.”

“Hey, that’s not what happened.” he says desperately, “I’m sorry I missed your science fair but I was just confused. I would have been there.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Jack corrects as he shakes his head, “You’d probably be helping Henry with his own project.”

“Are you…” Reid begins, “Are you jealous of Henry?”

He doesn’t get an answer from Jack. No nodding or head shaking, no verbal reply, not even a physical movement that Reid could have interpreted.

Yet, Jack’s silence is more than enough of a response.

“You know you’re important to me, Jack?” he reminds him, “I love you.”

“No, you don’t.” he cries, tears finally spilling down his cheeks, “You don’t love me because I’m stupid and I cry like a baby over stupid things and I get nightmares and I mess things up. I make your life suck. I make Dad’s life suck. I make Aunt Jess’s life suck too.”

As Jack takes in a ragged breath, he drops his gaze before shoving his hands underneath his armpits, curling into himself. Sobs wracking through his tiny body with such intensity that it has Reid worried the boy is going to make himself sick.

Reid’s hands move out of their own volition and soon he’s dragging Jack into his lap as he wraps his arms around him, guiding him to rest his head on Reid’s chest. He rubs a palm down his back as Jack lets out sob after sob into Reid’s shirt.

“Hey, shh, you don’t do any of those things.” Reid whispers.

Hair tickles Reid’s neck as he feels Jack shake his head against his chest.

“I do.” he says, “Which is why you love Henry more.”

“I don’t love Henry more.”

“Why not?” Jack asks as he lifts his head off of Reid’s chest, the tears still streaming down his face, “You’ve known him since he was a baby. You’ve only known me for a couple of years.”

“That’s not how love works, Jack.” he explains as he smooths a hand down his hair, “You can’t compare it, and you certainly can’t put its value in time.”

“Henry’s smarter than me too.” he admits as if that’s enough to convince Reid to love him less, “He gets the highest marks in class and he’s not like me. He doesn’t need help with math or reading big words.”

“There’s nothing wrong with needing help.” Reid says, “Everyone needs help at some point.”

“You never need help with reading big words.”

“Well, I’m not like most people.” he reminds, “I’m weird.”

“A good weird.”

A soft smile appears on Reid’s face. It was just like Jack to comfort other people, even when he was the one in need of it. He really was his father’s son.

“Henry is my godson.” Reid says as he cradles Jack’s face with his hands, “But, you Jack? You’re my son. The love I feel for you is different than the one I feel for Henry but, one’s not better than the other; just different.”

Jack darts his eyes downward and stares at the collar of Reid’s shirt, instead of Reid himself. The tears in his eyes have come to a gradual stop.

“So, you’re not gonna get sick of me?” Jack asks quietly.

Later, Reid is going to figure out how on Earth Jack could ever entertain the notion that he, or anyone for that matter, could get sick of him. He’s going to figure out how that idea got into his head and make sure it never does again.

Now, Reid just leans over and presses a soft kiss to Jack’s forehead, his palms still encompassing the boy’s face.

“Never, Jack.” he swears, “Are you gonna get sick of me?”

“Never.”

After a moment, Reid’s palms fall from Jack’s face but the boy doesn’t let him stray far; he grabs at Reid’s fingers and holds his hands in his own like he’s done every other time.

“Why don’t you show me that project you made?” Reid asks.

“It’s okay.” Jack says as he shakes his head, “It’s not that good anyway. I didn’t win anything.”

“Anything you make is award-winning, even if it isn’t to others.” he answers, “After all, you’re my son.”

At his words, Jack flashes Reid his toothy grin.

#criminal minds #hotchreid #~fic~

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teacup-crow · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet

Here’s my entry for Zombies, Make! round 1, 08/08/20. Shout out to @crownleysand @puptart! This is based on prompt 1, a picture of pancakes, and a tiny bit on prompt 3, Bitter and the Sweetness by The Ready Set.

I couldn’t decide on a tone for this fic so it’s kind of melancholy and also fluffy at the same time??? Writing stuff in 90 minutes is HARD!

Spoilers up to S2M44, probably set some time before the start of season 3. Gentle 5am.

Summary: Sam, Five and Paula try and celebrate Shrove Tuesday, despite the circumstances and the fact that none of them are sure how to.

You wouldn’t know it, but the kitchens at Abel supposedly had a rota. There were clearly defined roles and times for cooking and dishwashing, splitting work fairly across the township. Janine had spent an entire afternoon colour-coding it. It was even pinned to the bulletin board.

Nobody adhered to it anymore, to her eternal annoyance.

It wasn’t for lack of trying to keep things together, but having to constantly scratch names off the list had got harrowing in recent weeks. Things got done, eventually, and it was easier to suit dietary requirements with most people cooking for themselves, meaning the kitchen was almost always free. Still, there was a strict system for taking items from the pantry. Supposedly on guard duty, Pat was slumped and sleeping on the stool outside the storehouse door as Five crept inside.

Last Shrove Tuesday, of course, things had been different.

Sara and Simon had been there for starters, keeping track of the calendar, her reminding him to give something up for Lent, him rolling his eyes and saying surely having to give up the entire world as we used to know it was enough of a sacrifice, ending with a puff of flour and annoyance as she shooed him out from under her feet. Last year, Janine had begrudgingly thrown her hands in the air and agreed that, as it was for religious and cultural purposes, she supposed the supply of eggs and flour and milk could be repurposed. Someone had found a semi crushed can of golden syrup, Sam had given over a curly wurly to be melted for the cause, and they’d made so many pancakes they’d gorged until they were stuffed. The kids had loved it, stickiness all over their faces and fingers. It was probably the first time most of them had ever been completely full.

Lent is supposed to be about repenting, you know, Sara had mock admonished a bloated Simon.

Repenting? It’s about eating your body weight! He’d patted his stomach, and belched. The kids giggled. The women had sighed.

This year, Five quickly grabs the ingredients and tucks them into their backpack, before belly crawling back through the pantry, shelves of tins and bags of potatoes pushing at the netting, threatening to spill onto their skull. It won’t even be missed, they tell their guilty conscience. It’s not like Tess. This is for a good cause.

Sam and Paula are waiting in the kitchen, him with bated breath. She just looks extremely tired, sitting in one of the sinks, staring out of the window every now and again. To be reunited, and so quickly left behind, has aged her. Living in a township where nobody trusts her can’t be easy, either, but Five saw the way she held Sara’s hand as she died. Sam knew how much Maxine adored her. And for both of them, that was enough for their friendship and gratitude.

“We never really did pancakes at home, you know,” Sam says cheerfully, measuring out some flour as Five breaks the eggs. “School were very big on it, though. I mean, in China there’s Spring Festival, which I suppose has similarities to Easter in a lot of ways… Five, Paula, have you ever had mooncake?”

Five shakes their head and shrugs. Paula doesn’t respond.

“Oh man, you’re missing OUT. Oh. I just remembered I’ll probably never have mooncake again. I mean, maybe we can figure out how to make it? I don’t really remember the ingredients, but…”

He chatters away as they stir the mixture and heat the stove (which for once, decides to work first time) and send Five on a dramatic quest to find a non-scratched frying pan. The first batter burns black to the pan when the two of them get distracted in conversation, Five’s hands swimming through the air at a pace only he can keep up with. The second falls on the floor in a valiant attempt to flip it.

“Sara made this look really easy, didn’t she.”

“She used to make them for her boys,” Five signs, and swallows. The fun of the afternoon suddenly sticks a little in their throat.

“Yeah. That’s why I wanted… I just wanted to keep today alive. For both of them, really.”

Paula stands, and wordlessly takes the pan, scraping out the mess and methodically starting again, turning the heat down. She makes three perfect circles, and Five slathers them with squandered butter.

“I didn’t think you did pancake day?”

“I don’t, but I can at least work a gas hob, unlike the two of you.” It’s the first time she’s cracked a bit of a smile since Maxine disappeared as she watches their delight biting into them. “You two just wait for Passover. Then you’ll know about cooking.” Then, remembering, looks at her hands again. “Except I can’t risk going near a knife.”

“Don’t worry, Five and I can be your sous chefs!”

“Yeah, that definitely won’t end badly,” Five rolls their eyes so hard even Paula gets the gist, and chuckles.

“What else do you do on Shrove Tuesday?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure Phil was saying there’s a race?” Five scrawls in their notepad. “I have no idea whether that’s a real thing or a New Canton thing.”

Sam, running water for the dishes, turns and splashes them. “You also thought cheese rolling was just a New Canton thing.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t know your weird English town things!”

“Excuse me, cheese rolling is a legitimate event. Anyway, you could beat every single one of those New Canton runners in a straight up race, hands down.”

“I don’t know, Fifty-three is fast…”

“You’re faster. Hands. Down.”

Five grins up at him with a megawatt smile. He smiles back, reaching out to daub their nose with soap suds -

Pat’s crochety voice suddenly filters through the kitchen doorway. “Hey, did someone take something without signing for it?”

“Oh. So, this is where the running comes in.” Five grabs Sam’s arm, who grabs Paula’s, and the three of them burst out of the kitchen and charge towards the exit before the old man has time to turn and see them.

***

“Are you two,” Paula heaves for breath on the other side of the township. “Are you two always this childish? ”

Sam sputters as Five signs, “I prefer to call it young at heart?”

All she can think of is when her and Maxine were that way, rose tinted smiles, treating the world like it was still brand new despite everything and everyone being against them. I miss that.

Five sees her face, and signs slowly, mouthing the words to let her lipread. “We’ll get her back, Paula, wait and see. She needs to taste pancakes that good.”

“And in the meantime, you’re now officially in someone’s bad books for doing something pointlessly stupid.” Sam smiles. “Welcome to Abel.”

#zombies make #zombies run #sam yao #runner five #zrs2 spoilers #paula cohen

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Black Coffee - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad!

Nolan Sorrento + 15 - “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” Yo @mendelskrull - I remember a tag of yours once saying that you also love the CEO x PA trope, so I went full on with this! Please enjoy! 😘❤

Author’s Note: I think this was originally just meant to be a cute watching him make coffee scenario and then I kind kept building on it and now we have this. I’m really coming into my own with writing for him - considering how hard it’s been for me in the past... Anyway, I really like this one. It was a lot of fun!

Disclaimer: RPO Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gif credit as appropriate (Thanks again Joss!)

Premise: As much as you like bringing coffee to your CEO, it’s just as enjoyable when he returns the favour. Maybe you can persuade him that it’s not the only thing that can wake him up this morning...

Words: 2580

Warnings: sexual connotations

_________ Day dreamin', chain smokin' Always laughin', always jokin' I remain the same Did I tell you that I love you? Brush your teeth and pour a cup of Black coffee out - I love to watch you do that every day The little things that you do Each moment is new Freeze the moment Each moment is cool Freeze the moment I wouldn't wanna be Anywhere else but here I wouldn't wanna change Anything at all

---

Both of you were rushing. You weren’t exactly sure why, because the CEO of IOI was never late for anything, not even a supplier meeting – even when he was probably running five minutes behind schedule. You might shoulder the blame for trying to catch him just before he ought to be heading to it, but a certain someone decided to drag you into his office for a makeout session and now had to run halfway across the building to his meeting room. With you giving chase if only to go through what you ACTUALLY had to remind him of, and what you’d tried to catch him for in the first place. Eventually Nolan realised the same as you – he couldn’t be late! - and slowed down; heck, he didn’t want to turn up to a meeting out of breath as it was, that would raise a bunch of awkward questions. So you actually got to tick things off your list as he instructed you. And finally you got to the one you were the most curious about; “Oh! Nolan! Why does your dentist keep ringing? It’s the 5th time this week!” You’d had the note on your desk for the past few weeks, but it was always something he’d get to - you were started to get annoyed at having to pick up the phone to them. His face flushed, “Oh don’t worry about it!” “Well I do worry when I ring back and they’ll only talk to you!” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m your assistant Nolan, it’s literally my job to book things like this-!” “It’ll be okay!” He waved away your suggestion. “Really? Nolan! What are you doing to your teeth-?!” “Nothing-!” But his voice pitched and you reckoned that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Your teeth are fine the way they are! I like them...” Then your head tilted, “Well, okay, maybe if you smoked a little less.” He scoffed, giving you a sharp look, “That’s enough outta you!” But you thought it was important to also keep his health at the forefront of your mind. Nolan’s smoking habit was casual, but he still did it.

As you rounded the corner to the meeting room Nolan stopped dead, and it became clear that he hadn’t made a note of exactly what he was about to walk into. “Oh god who invited them-!” No, they certainly weren’t one of his favourite vendors, he’d made that apparent when he asked you to book it in. “Uhhh, it’s been on your calendar for like 2 weeks.” “Really?!” “Mhm - I did remind you yesterday morning.” “I was a little... distracted yesterday morning.” He better not have been blaming you again. “Uh huh.” You pushed the folder in your hands into his arms, and waited for his hesitant hands to take it, this was only one part of what he needed and you needed Nolan to focus on you right now so you could hand it all over, “Go get ‘em.” It was at least a little sarcastic, he would hate every second. “Oh god…” He blew out a breath, free hand to his forehead, “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” - yeah, it’d be them being killed, too. “Black?” It was like an instant response, with a soft smile He smiled, “You know my order by now, c’mon.” “Well,” you grinned “just wanted to check you didn’t want it extra strong-!” You knew how much Nolan hated this particular group of suppliers. “Ehh, good call, wouldn’t go amiss-!” “Will you need anything else, Sir?” You handed his tablet over, files he’d need for the meeting already pulled up, awaiting him to call upon them. “No, thank you Y/N, this should be sufficient.” You smiled sweetly, the gentle touch to his arm encouraging, “You’ve got this.” His hand hovered over yours for a minute, but he didn’t touch you – remembering himself, “I surely have.” You liked the confidence in his smile. You gave a nod, turning to leave and then back to him; “Should I get one for anyone else?” For one, you knew that to bring him one you would have to walk into the meeting with it – and people would become curious as to why they weren’t all being offered coffee. Nolan immediately scoffed; “NO.” You sighed, knowing that was hardly the way to treat important guests even if he despised them, “I’ll have some sent up and I’ll go out for yours.” He nodded in agreement, “This is the kind of thinking I hired you for, right?” There was a sudden glint in your eyes that made Nolan shiver; “Sure, if that’s what you tell yourself.” But immediately that sugar sweet smile was back “I’ll make sure I don’t send up the good coffee!” Then you winked, “Have a good meeting, Sir.” You got halfway down the corridor before you remembered one last important thing coming up; and luckily, as you expected, Nolan was watching you leave. He always was predictable. “Oh! You’re ready for the conference next week, right?” “Yeah! Yeah! It’s gonna be a good one - presentation and notes being reviewed as we speak-!” “As long as you’re on top of things-!” You nodded and turned to go make him coffee, but Nolan called you back. “Oh! Y/N!” “Mhm?” “You are coming to the conference with me, right? I’m gonna need someone to keep track of things for me...” You smiled “Yes, I’m going with you. That is my job, Sir.” Nolan nodded, mind already wandering, “Good... that’s good.” “Anything else?” “No, no, Y/N - carry on-!”

*** The conference was four days long, starting on a Sunday of all days. Which meant you both arrived on Saturday, to give you a day to settle in. Two rooms were always booked, only one was ever used. You thought you were either IOI’s best kept, or worst kept, secret. No one ever acted like they knew, or even hinted it – but it wasn’t like Nolan made anything about his flirting or checking you out subtle. You’d seen him lean back in his chair with a raised eyebrow, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip at your too high heels and too short skirt before (not that you thought these things, but occasionally some of the bitches that worked here would make comments of their own.). Not that you minded, half of your work wardrobe you picked out and wore for him. The first day had been a lot of fun, he’d had a few client meetings, but aside from that, it had been wandering around stands and prospecting. IOI had their own of course, and Nolan had spent a long time making sure it was perfect, before thanking everyone manning it for being here. He of course was giving a workshop of his own – not only that, but he was Tuesday’s keynote speaker. A very important role. You were here to make sure everything ran smoothly, that Nolan was where he was supposed to be at the right times, that he had everything he needed and that you were picking up all his emails & calls whilst he was busy. Such was your role as his PA. But a role you couldn’t have enjoyed more if you’d tried. You liked reading emails to him out loud in your most sarcastic tone depending on what people had sent him, and Nolan would ask you to type his reply just as sarcastically, which most of the time would have you in stitches. Before he had enough of you standing around in his button up and dragged you to bed for something he would consider far more fun. With Sunday out of the way, and Monday consisting of a celebrity Keynote, and some workshops Nolan wished to attend himself – you weren’t that bothered about settling into your day until this afternoon, where you’d have to set the room up for him. Although you were checking in with IOI news as he got ready, enjoying the background noise of him pacing the room to get washed and dressed; the scratch of his razor against his skin, the slide of silk tie against cotton shirt, click of watch strap into place. “How we doing?” “Stock is up.” You mumbled, smiling gently as he leant over to kiss your shoulder, “…Matthew’s rerun sales numbers and they’re better than projected… uhm, Carlo says there’s a routine system upgrade tomorrow but you should know about it?” “UH. I think I remember him mentioning, it yeah…” You glanced at him over your shoulder as he neatened his hair in the mirror. That kind of response meant that Nolan didn’t have a clue, you rolled your eyes, typical. At least you were on top of things. “Also…” You rolled yourself in the sheets so you were facing the end of the bed and the wider room where he was, “I need to run through your day, even though I’ve pinged it to your calendar, so I know that I’ve told you-!” Nolan chuckled, crossing the room to the coffee machine, “You don’t trust me, huh?” “You wouldn’t want me to be honest, would you sir?” You were lucky that raise a smirk rather than an upset look – he knew you were teasing. He poured – Nolan had this very meticulous slow pour, and always bit his lip when he concentrated on it. As his name would suggest – he would insist that Italian coffee was the only good coffee, and when he made it the way that he did, you weren’t about to disagree with him. You groaned from the bed watching him, even the position he stood in gave you all the lines of his body under that sharp suit. Apparently it was a little louder than you expected by the way he turned to you with a smirk; “You okay over there, darling?” It was your turn to bite your lip as he stirred in just the correct amount of sugar for you, and a dash of milk – you were not the black coffee drinker here. “I would be if you came back to bed.” “Oh no…” Nolan’s voice was sultry as he walked back over, holding the mug out for you he ran a hand through your hair, just enough of a tug to force you to look up at him. Your lips parted and his blue eyes flashed, “I should let you recover from last night.” You shivered in delight at the way he was looking at you, and your body was already telling you that recovery was the last thing it wanted. You took the cup quickly, clearing your throat and looking away from him as you blushed. “J-Just let me tell you your schedule!” “Oh my god, will you just stop until I’ve had some of this.” He waved his hand and slid back over to the machine to pour his own – straight black, with no sweetness. The kind of coffee a ruthless CEO would drink. You knew there was a lot of sweetness under there, he just didn’t show it to anyone else. Nolan came back and sat beside you, sipping his coffee thoughtfully and nodding along as you relayed the schedule to him – propped up on one arm as you read from the tablet. Every so often he had several presentations at the same time that he’d have to choose from, or some that might conflict with client meetings; “You can send someone else to the meeting… or… I could go to the workshop for you and report back?” He regarded you with playful curiosity; “Oh? You’d be interested in some of these?” “They do sound rather good – yeah.” You blinked up at him, “You’re a little more interesting.” “Oh really?” Nolan grinned, taking a gulp of coffee and leaning over your shoulder to pick some out with your help. Eventually you had three days’ worth of scheduling down (for him and yourself), and if he wanted to go to the keynote and his first workshop he ought to be leaving your side right now. Instead he was taking his time, sweet talking you and finishing his coffee. With his casual string of flirting, and your body still telling you to drag him back to bed and relieve him of that suit and tie, you couldn’t help but nearly beg him to stay. You couldn’t even talk for fear of what might come out of your mouth, only sipping your coffee as you listened to him. Watching the nuances of his face, and the way he moved his hands; Nolan had a lot of ticks and tells – and they all meant something different. It was as much your job to read these as his employee, as it was your job as his lover. But each one was fascinating – and today every movement was the story of a man that couldn’t leave; but knew he should. You took your final sip and placed the mug on the floor before looking back to him; “Nolan.” “Yes?” “Don’t you think you should be heading off?” Nolan hesitated, as if that didn’t say everything; “…Kicking me out now?” “I just don’t want to see the CEO I’m looking after be reprimanded for being late.” He tipped his mug back and set it, empty, next to yours. “Well, my PA probably has a point…” He straightened his cuffs and brushed himself down, before turning to you. But he paused and this was a fatal mistake. You’d had enough – and Nolan was hesitating – you reached out and grabbed his tie, tugging him to your lips. The sheets slipped from your body and he covered you instead – causing your needy sigh against his lips. “Y- Y/N…” He swallowed hard, “If you’re so insistent I go, then I really should.” But you were both playing the game of who could hold out the longest – who would be the one to say it? Truth was you weren’t so concerned with winning the game – just with having him back between your thighs under the sheets. “Just come back to bed... it’s not that important, right?” Nolan scoffed, but his hands were already finding yours, and he wasn’t using them to hinder your progress on his tie; “You’re the one who spent the last 30 minutes telling me how important my schedule is.” “As if you don’t change it on me last minute all the time when we’re in the office?” You raised an eyebrow and mocked his voice; “OH, Y/N, really – please, not this meeting. Push it out.” He growled, displeased, before claiming your lips roughly again, “If I wasted good coffee for nothing.” “I got to watch you make it, certainly not a waste of anything.” You pulled him back so that you could taste him; it almost tasted better from his kisses than it did from a cup. “Oh? Do you get off on that?” You gave him a wink, “It’s the little pleasures, Nolan Sorrento. About time someone taught you that…” He laid you back properly, placing a kiss to your neck, and again to your shoulder. “Well, I would like to learn…” His hands ran smoothly down your body and you sighed against the travel, “Maybe you could be my first workshop of the day.” You smirked, winding your arms around him and running your hands into his hair; “Gladly, Mr.Sorrento.” As it turned out the conference that morning wasn’t so important after all.

---

7/16 - Nearly at the halfway point!!! Thank you for requesting! 💙 Thank YOU for reading! 😘😘

#nolan sorrento #nolan sorrento x reader #ready player one #ben mendelsohn #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Fun fact: I've already used the song /coffee/ - there's a draft called /black/ and this one is /black coffee/#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes requests #smol bean drabbles #SO this is more a /the sentence is the theme/#I'm very surprised this needed very little editing! Which is a nice change #But it was kinda find the way it was :)#But some is from my phone notes so when copying it over i usually do a little bit of editing...#Theres SOOOOO much Nolan in my drafts at the moment oh my goodness #how did THAT happen #159 #YOOOO Dave is gonna me my 160? That makes me irrationally happy!#i forgot that I added the teeth thing and spent 10 minutes laughing at myself #Look it doesn't bother me but I thought at some point someone was gonna have to ask the question or mention it!!

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

Give them what they want ch. 7

After that disastrous choice of drowning her sorrows in alchohol, Jordan decided to take the time off in general to sleep off her hangover and avoid people.

That left with nothing to do but schoolwork. Frankly compared to all the social pressures, it was a perfect solution. At least there was a right and a wrong and no big failure if she said the incorrect answer.

After the breeze of paperwork, she went to the more creative side of art class.

The assignment was to do a drawing filled with symbolism and an essay explaining the choices. She called up and transported Calix for her model.

He had a cream white cape draped over his right shoulder in the style of old Roman emperors, clutching a book to his chest and holding out a candle and laurel in the other.

"And I have to be nude while holding this because...?" Calix questioned, fidgeting after an hour of standing still.

"Nudity is the transparency of the soul. Duh." Jordan snapped "Stop moving your head, I'm trying to draw your hair."

"Can I sit at least?" Calix complained, shaking a leg.

"Yes you can sit." She rolled her eyes.

Calix sighed as he plopped down to sit cross legged.

Jordan was happy that any feelings she had for Calix had disappeared. Foolish, ridiculous romantic feeling from the stupid needy part of her that agreed with the Aurodonian statement that she need love to be happy. No, what she needed was to not be alone.

Calix was still one of her closest friends, annoying, fun and loyal, nothing more. Hot too...but he was with Morrían Le freakin Fey.

Even her name sounded enchanting and slightly exotic, it was disgusting.

"Hmm Calix do you think I should just use my middle name instead? Jordan is so boring." She murmured as she traced the outline of a strand of hair that stuck to his forehead.

"Desiree? I guess if you wanted to. Say do most genies have a name that sounds like they're strippers? I mean Genie, Eden, I hear Karma is popular..."

And there was the man that so loved to irritate her. Usually on Tuesdays.

"Is that your perverted way of saying that I shouldn't?" Jordan flung an eraser at him.

"Watch where you throw that." Calix deftly caught it before it hit his thigh. "A name is a name. I think you're fine, you're entertaining enough to make up for it."

Jordan smiled, when the door opened.

"So I was thinking you could pose, OH MY WOW!" Mal cried with Ben by her side.

Calix made no move to hide himself, almost preening at their reactions.

"Sorry" Ben squeaked ducking his head, looking frantically at another direction while Mal opened her mouth, closed it, and babbled.

"I guess...I just,.. so sorry, we thought. I hope we aren't interrupting? This is for art right?"

If the situation hadn't been so awkward considering that the king of Auradon was witnessing it and that Mal thought they were about to do unspeakable things, Jordan would have laughed at how shocked the bad fairy looked.

One doesn't usually see naked boys in Auradon Prep after all.

"Well it's not like it's for math and she has to measure my.." Calix almost finished his sentence. Jordan flung a couple of paintbrushes at him.

"What is with the abuse!" He cried

She turned to the blushing couple, "It's for art, we'll be done soon."

"We'll find another place it's fine." Ben said. Then the two ran off, slamming the door behind.

Jordan turned to Calix who was failing at keeping his laughter in.

"Measure! Measuring you!"

"I was joking. I mean who would be so insecure to have to measure their body parts?"

"Only you would be so immodest enough to suggest that." Jordan cried.

"I'm as modest as you are a lady. And we both know you ain't no lady." Calix joked.

"I'll make you mute." Jordan half-heartedly threatened.

"I'll make you fall in love with an ass." Calix shot back.

"Ooo an ass, how Shakespearean." Jordan blew a kiss at him.

She paused, "Speaking of love, have you've told Morrían?"

Calix rolled his eyes at her and made a "Do you even know me?" face.

Love was not a word used lightly in Auradon. Once you said it, you sealed your fate to be committed forever until your wedding day. If you made it through that. You are set for your future children, grandchildren, respective kingdoms, family reunions, anniversaries on and on...

Calix, the quarter-siren/sorcerer seducer of many who've fallen for his song, would never use that word to describe a relationship. Too risky. He only reserved that word for his parents, and for Metsovone platters.

"We are at the stage of mutual like where we have enjoyable afternoons, nights and morning afters together where we do a variety of activities depending on our moods and wants. Ending with satisfaction for both parties. Is that you want to hear?"

"Mm hmm,” Jordan murmured, casually turning her attention back to her drawing.

She wasn't jealous that he was in happy mutual relationship. She wasn't annoyed that it wasn't with her. She was merely irked that she had everything Morrían and yet, she didn't have any of the perks.

She had looked up Morrían herself just to see if she was as special and as hot as Aziz and Calix claimed.

Fine, Morrían was pretty. Wavy, waist-length black hair, violet eyes, gleaming white skin that reminded Jordan of polished crystal. Most posts showed her A+ grades, her at parties, some intellectual magic debate.

She was witty, she was smart, she knew of some of the world based on her many vacation photos in various parts of Auradon.

So?

If Morrían, who could be close enough to be her equal in beauty, personality, and magic contests, was so sought after as a girlfriend. why wasn't she! Sought after in a genuine romantic relationship with actual feelings.

She drew a line that went off course across Calix's face, and realized she should probably stop obsesssing over what Morrían had that she didn't.

"I'm done. I'll do the finishing touches later." She announced, erasing the offending line.

"Sweet Aphrodite, finally!" Calix cried, hurriedly shoving his jeans up his legs.

Jordan smiled at how awkwardly he dressed, balancing uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Wanna go to Nonstop to hang out?" Calix asked as he put on his shirt.

"Sure, I'll meet you there." Jordan packed up her sketch pad and left.

"Jord? Did you hear? Zahrat and Samir found out it's going to be a girl." Aziz called excitedly, hurrying to her side in the hallway.

"She called me this morning. They're already arguing over baby names. She wants Hajar, he wants "the most ridiculous girl name in the world." She quoted

"What is it?" Aziz asked, almost dropping his French book.

"She didn't tell me, just that it was "the most ridiculous, horrible girl name in the world."

"Well with an argument like that, she must be right." Aziz joked, "Where are you going?"

"Nonstop." Jordan replied, and before he could ask, "You can come too."

"Great, their hamburgers are delicious." Aziz moaned

Nonstop was located in the backstreets of Auradon City, near the recess of the infamous woods where Beast fought the wolves to save Belle. No mortal dared to go.

Nonstop, it was own by Circe (as most fae clubs were) and had a special, illegal invisibility spell protecting the exterior from curious eyes.

It was fae-only. A haven for magical creatures to show their true forms, use their powers and have fun and relax and not pretend to be mortals and do menial labor. There was at least one in every state in Auradon. The more popular ones were in Agrabah, near the shores of Atlantica, Neverland, by the tavern of Snuggly Duckling. But Nonstop was where most of the fae student population in Auradon Prep resided to relax.

Aziz was an expection since Jordan basically threatened everyone who came near them, that he was allowed to be in without harm.

Calix led them through the backway so they could eat in Circe's office. It was lavish, Roman-inspired room with lounges, and drapes and Greek statues. A small platform raised the mahogany desk facing the door.

"So we could eat here, and you can study." Calix suggested looking at the schoolbooks the two had brought, "Orrrr.."

"Hey, Alexandria is here!" Aziz poked his head out of the office door to look at the club.

"Orrr we could hang out with the peoples." Calix smirked as Aziz went off to flirt with Attina's daughter.

Jordan rolled her eyes, and took a fresh breath of air as she entered the pulsating club room. Club room #3 to be precise. Nonstop had five different rooms. The main one was about the size of Beast's ballroom and looked like Moulin Rogue and Great Gatsby had exploded together into one mega party. Two others were simpler dance floors with a bar, booths, and couches arranged in the front of the room and by fireplaces.

Another was a more sophiscated, simple parlor room for taking and poetry readings. The fifth one was the outside area with rock gardens, and an outside cafe. Each place had pools in the center just for the mermaid/merman patrons.

"So Alexandria, how is it down there?" Aziz asked with a wink.

"Horrible as usual." Alexandria signed, letting a light brown lock fall on her eye, "The tourists make a mess everywhere! It may be a museum for Aunt Ariel's story and home, but people live there."

Jordan went to talk to Jonathan Thatch, Milo and Kida's son. He had a lot of his mother's appearance with dark skin and white streaks in his tan, blonde hair but he was most defiantly his dad's son. He could talk about anthropology for days.

"Kuzco's empire was amazing!" He enthused, "The had invented astrology and mathematics without the help of modern sciences and how they did it is just fascinating. You see, they based it on the solar and lunar calendars.."

Jordan amiably smiled as Jonathan babbled on until Calix caught his attention, "Calix, what would you say is the one architectural wonder Dad and I should check out while we visit Greece?"

With his attention diverted, Jordan got caught up in a family reunion story Philocetes II, Madora and Herksper were telling.

"And then Uncle Hermes and Uncle Loki decided to team up against Aunt Freya and Aunt Aphrodite!" Phil cried "They replaced all their makeup and clothes with hydra skins and Minator drool. Damn, you should never prank a beauty goddess, never!"

After the story was finished, she and Madora went up to the stage and danced and sang to Madora's mother's famous song, "Won't say I'm in love."

"I wish I could move my hips like that." Madora sighed as she flopped onto one of the couches by the fireplace.

"You were a fine belly dancer for a demigod." Jordan shrugged, "I have more of an advantage after all since I can make my body do whatever I want." She took off her hand, and three extra arms sprouted from her sides in a demonstration. "Belly dancing is hardly a problem."

"Don't you show it. Do it again." Herksper, (Or Herkie as most Auradon Prep students called him since they found his name so hard to do.) suggested with a shining, white smile.

"Oh why not?" Jordan smiled and went to center stage. The bright lights hit her, warming her body all over in a way the her attempted alcohol binge never did. She moved her hips in time to the haunting wail of the snake charmer's Pipe.

She closed her eyes, letting herself go with the motion, but when she opened them, she was struck with a new feeling.

The audience was staring at her every move, they looked entranced and under her power. Gazing at her lovingly. She winked at one, and he stepped backwards in shock.

A surge of confidence went through her. She was in control of the audience's reaction. It was wonderful. They were watching her, only her. They weren't thinking of themselves, just focused on what she was going to do.

She licked her lips, and thought of a song she had heard long ago. Her mom had this huge idea to make an album, back when bands were a thing. But she had gotten bored after three days and abandoned the project. Typical. Nothing was too exciting for long for a genie.

No one had heard the song, but now they would.

She didn't usually sing in public. No big fear, she just felt her talent laid elsewhere. But now, she had them in her hand, and they were going to pay attention to her every word.

"Tell me all your wishes, I'm here to make them true. No need to rub a lamp because I'll take care of you."

She smiled as seductively as she could while dancing across the stage. Each move slow and deliberated, leaving the audience waiting for the next step.

She never felt so exhilarated before. She had total control of how they saw her. They saw her as sexy, beautiful, unattainable, and she was going to milk that feeling for as long as it was worth.

"My new resolution is to trust you. My business to love you until you've had it. I'm not going to miss out on the good stuff. The grass would be so much greener with us on it."

She poofed off the stage to the round of couches where Jonathan, Calix, Madora, Alexandria, Herksper, Phil, and Aziz stared at her in amazement.

"You deserve this." Madora handed her a bottle of sparkling cider.

"Aww I deserve a lot of things, finally someone had the bright idea of actually giving it to me." Jordan smiled.

Calix lightly smacked her on the temple, "Seriously though. That was one great act. Usually you need my help.."

"Shut up." Jordan rolled her eyes at him, "I'll get the next round of drinks, what do you want, guys?" She asked.

"Water" Jonathan, Aziz and Alexandria called.

"Gin on the rocks" Calix requested.

"Wine." Hercules' children asked for.

Jordan strutted to the bar happily, basking in the glances men and women were throwing her way.

"I am pretty. I'm so pretty." Jordan hummed "And witty, and giddy and gay. And I pity anyone who isn't me today."

While she waited for the bartender to get to her orders, a pixie girl and Bacchae sat on her right side.

"So genie girl?" The Bacchae leaned to rest his head on her shoulder, "Wanna get on the grass?"

"Get off me." Jordan shoved him.

"But-but you said you would take care of us." The Bacchae whined with a leer.

"It was a song." Jordan replied, grabbing Calix's order.

"You're still a genie. It's what you do." The pixie girl said, grabbing her shoulder with sharp nails."I know how it works. So where is your lamp?"

"You're right, I am a genie. Not an idiot. I'm not telling you." Jordan poured the glass of gin over the pixie's head.

"Your business is to love us till we had it." The pixie girl mocked, shaking her head like a wet dog.

"Yet I don't trust you." Jordan huffed, taking the rest of the drinks and leaving.

The Bacchae cackled as she stalked off. "Fae these days, don't know what their job is."

Jordan closed her eyes, and tried to push away the thoughts of being tied down away. Once she reached the others, slammed the tray of drinks at the table.

"You'll have to get your gin, Calix. While you're at it, kick out the Bacchae and pixie I poured it on." She pointed at the duo.

Calix got up from his seat, "I can't kick out every person that hits on you, that you don't like." He turned to look at her direction, "I mean it's just- why is he staring at his crotch?"

"Why is the pixie playing with- EWW THIS IS A PUBLIC PLACE!" Alexandria cried

Herksper covered his eyes, "I think I just saw inside of him."

"Alright, I'm kicking them out! They will be banned." Calix lowered his eyes.

"Don't let them touch you." Jonathan grimaced.

"I don't WANT them to touch me, so your warning is a bit unecessary." Calix said before going to talk to the two.

"So that happened." Madora shuddered.

"They can't be our age." Aziz stuck out his tongue in disgust.

"They could be. Shape shifters and fae with disguise spells." Vidia's son, Kyro flew over, eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Like her in mortal clubs." Aziz cocked his head toward Jordan.

"What?' Kyro grinned mischievously, sitting next to her. Most fairies change to their natural fairy size in the club, but some chose to stay mortal size for the sake of not getting squashed.

"I'll explain" Jordan threw a annoyed glare at her adoptive brother, "Biological I'm 17. I act 17, look 17. But if people counted by human years, I'm 21. So when I go to mortal club, and they ask my age I NATURALLY assume they want my mortal age."

They all looked at her dubiously.

"Okay, I know what I'm doing. But you go along with it." Jordan added with a side eyed to Aziz.

"Adult clubs are fun. They have good finger food." Aziz shrugged

"They think you're 21?" Kyro snickered

Jordan shifted her body. Taller, bustier, angular features, she intoned deeply "Believe me now?"

"I can see it." Kyro nodded his head in approval. With that confirmation she changed back to her normal form.

"What are adult clubs like anyway?" Phil asked intrigued

"Basically a bunch of them sit around having tea and crumpets while discussing politics, philosophy and books." Aziz answered.

"And recite poems in their original languages or do opera." Jordan put in.

"Pretentious asses." Kyro snorted

"How's your twin?" Alexandria changed the subject.

"Avari is going out with Azul." He answered, flicking his long black bangs off his eyes.

"Rani's son?" Calix returned to the conversation.

"It's weird, I know." Kyro said

The conversation drifted away from that to new topics until it was 3 in the afternoon.

"We better go." Alexandria muttered, frowning at her watch.

Calix let her and Aziz go out through Circe's office and headed back to party.

Thankfully Aziz's dorm room was empty so she could take one bed while Aziz jumped onto his, and covered his eyes with his textbook.

"I feel super productive." He murmured sarcastically

"How much work?" She asked

"Too much." Aziz threw the book to the floor. "I'll do it after dinner."

Jordan rolled over to her side, "I want to sleep already."

"Do it. No one has seen you at all because you've been studying all weekend."

"I can't." She complained

"The Bacchae and the pixie?" Aziz asked softly

"I think too much. It's nothing." Jordan sighed, "Go do your work. Wake me up when your roommate comes."

Aziz sighed much too overdramatically in her opinion as he got up to sit on the bed she was on, and pushed her onto her stomach.

He started to do back tracings on her. Dammit, he knew she loved tickle massages. She found it so soothing and always made her fall asleep. She would willingly stay still forever if there was someone giving her one.

"Aziz, please, I'm fine. You don't have to help me go to sleep." Jordan murmured

"Let me. Think of it as you're helping me procrastinate in doing a half-hearted job on my French homework." Aziz told her

"When you put it that way..." Jordan closed her eyes.

Author's Note: Another chapter done, I hope you enjoyed. It's a nice breather chapter, isn't it? Go thank screamingeternally for that. She was the one who reminded me that not every chapter has to be full of angst.

Anyway the song, is "Good Stuff" by Shakira.

The little hummed tune was "I feel pretty" from West Side Story.

I'm sure, everyone can guess what musical inspired my club name choice ;)

I put a lot of Descendants characters of Disney people I like. Attina, Milo, Rani, etc. That was fun.

And if anyone is wondering or if a name nerd like me, Avari was inspired by Avarice. As Vidia had been inspired by Invidia.

Kyro inspired by Kyto, the dragon Vidia fell in love with in the books.

#jordan #aziz #calix #bal mentioned #disney descendants #my fanfiction #my fanfic #ocs #give them what they want #chapter seven

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unseenthewriter · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 6: CHRISTMAS PRESENT

Chapter 6: 6784 Words

Fic Total: 21340 Words

Series Total: 21340 Words

The next day was the start of the weekend and I had decided that because I'd been so stressed lately it's time for me to get an Xbox 360 again. Even though I'm no longer doing any new freelance programming jobs I still have quite a bit of money I saved up.

I was in the middle of setting up the TV in my room when Dunc called. "Blue Jay." I said.

"Busy today?" He asked.

I thought for a moment about the breakfast at lunchtime conversation I had with Wilson.

___

"I've got to say the fact you're not lactose intolerant but just don't like milk is slightly concerning." Wilson commented.

I glanced up from my bowl of lucky charms (without milk of course). "I don't know what to tell you man it's just gross. I just don't like most dairy." I said with a shrug.

"What dairy do you like?" Wilson asked, looking more concerned.

"Oh easy cheese and ice cream." I said.

Wilson stared at me blankly for a few seconds. "That reminds me you need a physical." He said.

I set the spoon down. "Like a check-up?" I asked.

"Yes." He said.

"Can we just not do that? I mean like you guys are Doctors I'm sure I'm fine like-" I started to say.

"You're joining the Cheerleaders. They're going to need a physical." Wilson said simply.

Ah no, he's got me there. I groaned.

Wilson looked confused. "You volunteer at PPTH, you met House as a patient in the free clinic, you don't seem to be afraid of Doctors." He said.

"Yeah I know but that was for my wrist. Physicals you have to you know… and like I'm trans so it's just awkward because I'll have to explain that to whatever Doctor it is and like God forbid if they're low key transphobic or not you know?" I ranted but then remembered that Wilson is also trans. So he just kinda stared at me like “yeah I know”.

"Well, you already know all of House's Team isn't transphobic." Wilson said.

He's right there. "But do I have to?" I pleaded.

"Yes. Schedule it with one of them today." He said.

I groaned again before getting back to my cereal.

___

"Uhh I have one thing to do at PPTH." I said.

"Oh? Care to elaborate?" Dunc asked over the phone.

I huffed and put him on speaker while I started to set up the Xbox 360. "I have to schedule a physical with one of House's Team."

"In person?" He asked.

"Well I don't exactly have any of their numbers. I've never asked and they haven't offered I'm a teenager. What adult is going to offer a teenager they barely know their phone number? Makes them look like a pedophile or something I don't know." I rambled. I have Kutner's but he's out of town right now anyway.

"Can't you just call the hospital?" He asked.

"I'm like 95% House would pick up the phone so no thanks. Hi yes Dad what I've never called you Dad before oops. Well I'm NOT calling you. I'm here to talk to your Team because I hate you. That would go great." I joked.

"You haven't called him Dad before?" Dunc asked.

"Okay look I didn't know him for the first 16 years of my life and I've been calling him House since I've met him like at what point do I call him Dad? Is there like a guideline because I'd really like to know this shit is so confusing, Dunc you have no idea." I complained.

"Hmm yeah I guess that kinda sucks." He said.

"Okay but like if I did call House Dad like I had no idea how he'd react. The man might just die for all I know." I joked.

Dunc laughed. "Yeah let me know so I can record it."

"Sure thing." I said.

"Want back up?" He asked.

"You asking because you're really that bored or because you want to watch the shit show?" I asked.

"Can't it be both?" He said.

I sighed. "Yeah sure meet you there in an hour?"

"Sounds good." He said and hung up.

Well maybe it will be a little easier with Dunc there.

~~~

I was idling in the lobby of PPTH waiting for Dunc to show up. The reason that House and his team were even here today on a weekend was because of a case. I wasn't too sure of the details of this one but apparently something happened late last night.

"Take the bus?" I asked Dunc as he walked into the lobby taking off his scarf.

"Unlike you I don't have a parking spot." He grumbled.

Yeah apparently with the amount of volunteer hours I was logging I got a parking spot. It was far away but a free parking spot nonetheless. "You could've asked me to pick you up." I said.

"Your car is a piece of shit dude." Dunc replied as we made our way to the elevator.

I rolled my eyes as I pressed the button. I mean the car works just fine, that's all I could really ask for. "Not all of us are rich like you Lestrade." I said.

"Really? Because Wilson told me who your Uncle was and from what I heard when he died his money went to your Mother which I assume has gone to you now." He said as we got into the empty elevator.

I watched the doors close. I figured this would catch up to me at some point. Going to a school full of rich kids. I figured Ivy was the one who was going to figure it out though. I mean she was the one that found out about Dr. King. "I'm not exactly sure what's happening with the money." I said.

Dunc looked confused. "Why?"

"Uh I bailed from Minnesota the day after my Mom died. I've been a little preoccupied." I said.

The elevator doors open to the floor we were going to. "Why did you even bother looking for your Father if you had that much money?" Dunc asked.

"Because I don't know if I do!" I exclaimed.

A few people turned to look at us which made me freeze up of course.

"What do you mean you don't know if you do?" Dunc said quietly.

I glanced around and the few people who were watching us looked the other way. "Money was a very sensitive topic in my family. I'm not talking about this now." I said and made my way to the DDX Room.

Thankfully House wasn't there. Thirteen and Taub were the only ones in the room at the moment. Thirteen was on the computer and Taub was reading some files. "Looking for House?" Thirteen said without moving her eyes from the computer.

"Who's that?" Taub asked about Dunc.

"Uh no and this-" I started but Dunc cut me off.

"A friend Duncan Lestrade. I'm also one of Dr. Wilson patients." He introduced me.

"We both go to Princeton Prep." I said.

"You go to Princeton Prep?" Taub asked.

I looked at him blankly. Does House never talk about me? I mean that's fine I don't really care but I feel like the fact that I wear the uniform around the hospital a lot would shed some light on the subject. "Yes?"

"He pays for that?" Thirteen asked, surprised.

"I'm there on scholarship." I said with a sigh.

The looks on both of their faces went from confused to oh that makes a lot more sense.

"What do you need?" Taub asked.

I looked back and forth between the two of them. Jeez I hate this.

"He needs to schedule a physical to join the Cheerleaders." Dunc said for me.

I glared at him. I did NOT want the hospital to know I was joining the Cheerleaders just yet. I guess it's not too surprising I mean after the whole Spider-Man thing but still.

"Cheerleaders?" Taub asked.

Great job Dunc. Great job. "I used to be a gymnast." I said softly.

Taub just looked shocked but Thirteen wasn't. "When are you available?" She asked.

I blinked. "I'm here every Wednesday and Friday and most Tuesdays and Thursdays." I said.

"Next Wednesday at 3 work?" Thirteen asked.

I pulled out my phone to double-check my calendar. "Yes." I said and put it in the calendar.

I muttered thanks on my way out of the DDX Room with Dunc.

"See, was that hard?" Dunc said.

"Did you have to tell them I was joining the Cheerleaders?" I huffed.

"I mean they'll find out soon enough." He shrugged.

"I'm not so sure anymore. Like they didn't even know I went to Princeton Prep." I said.

"Yeah, that was a little weird." Dunc said. "Oh and next year you won't be able to volunteer on Fridays."

"Why?" I asked.

"Football games duh." He said.

Oh right yeah. This is going to be interesting.

~~~

I rested my head in my hands after I sat down at the lunch table. I was a bit of an idiot last night and stayed up all night gaming on my Xbox 360. Because it's December I was trying to figure out a Christmas present for House and I thought some gaming would help… It didn't. I just got no sleep and zero ideas. Wilson is easy enough. I have some props from some musicals that my Uncle gave to me a while back. Sure it's regifting but like he's more into that stuff than me. I even have some ideas for House's Team, Dunc and Ivy but House? No clue.

"What's bothering you?" Ivy asked.

I guess you could say Ivy has become my friend now? Despite her being the Cheerleading Captain she actually doesn't have many friends because she tends to piss people off. You could literally stab Dunc and he wouldn't care and I have House for a Father so it's gonna take a lot for her to piss us off.

"Trying to think of a Christmas present for House. I was up all night thinking about it." I mumbled.

"Really? I thought you were up all night playing Dragon Age Origins." Dunc said.

I glared at him. I bought the game recently. "I can multitask."

"Clearly not very well." He said.

"Yeah well, you try having House as a Father for a day and come back to me." I said.

"Can I have Wilson instead?" Dunc joked.

"No. He's actually nice." I mumbled.

Ivy looked back and forth between us. "Isn't Wilson your Doctor?" She asked Dunc.

"Yeah." He said with a shrug.

Ivy thought for a moment. "How did you two meet?" She asked.

I laughed. "Oh man, that was hilarious. You remember that Dunc."

"Pfft, how could I? I almost died from second-hand embarrassment." He said.

"Yeah, I'm so glad Wilson didn't judge me too hard on that first impression."

"Dude that's how you met Wilson?!" Dunc exclaimed.

"Unfortunately." I sighed.

"What happened?" Ivy asked, clearly annoyed that we were leaving her in the dark.

"Right so what happened was this-"

___

Part of me really wished I didn't mention that I was good with computers to Dr. Cuddy when I asked her about volunteering. Once she heard that she totally glanced over everything I said about wanting to become a Doctor someday so it would be nice to see something medical related… Yeah she immediately stuck me with Bill The IT Guy because he's like the only IT person for the whole hospital so he's a BIT overwhelmed. But you know it's fine.

The main issue I'm having now is that Bill is having me running around the hospital a lot and well I really don't know the place that well yet. Yeah I don't know it at all. I mean sure I can find my way to the lobby like 60% of the time but that's about it. I'm currently lost again. I was just grabbing myself a Mountain Dew and a Coffee for Bill at the cafeteria but got lost on my way to IT. Man I've been on so many floors today I'm not even sure what floor it's on anymore.

I turned around a few times trying to look for one of the floor signs that are usually all over the place but apparently are never there when you need them to be. If I was going to guess I was in Oncology. Because you know…

I finally found a floor sign and went over to it but unfortunately IT wasn't on there. I forgot it never freaking is. No one ever goes to IT. I did notice a cute guy my age staring at me from one of the couches. Must be taking a break from his room. I wasn't paying attention when I turned back around so that I bumped into a Doctor spilling the Coffee that I had got for Bill on him. "Oh God I'm so sorry." I said, my face turning bright red. I scrambled to get something to help clean up the mess.

"Hey it's no problem. New volunteer?" He asked, pointing at my badge.

"Y-Yeah Jay Flynn. Helping out Bill in IT because I told Dr. Cuddy I was good with computers but I do kinda wish I could be doing something else." I said without thinking. Wow Jay why the fuck did you just tell him that. He's probably going to tell Dr. Cuddy you just messed everything up.

"Ah well Bill can use all the help he can get. I'm Dr. Wilson by the way. You lost?" He asked.

My face got even redder. "Yeah I forgot where IT is." I mumbled.

"Oh that would be an issue. I guess the coffee was for Bill?" He said.

I just nodded.

"Right well-" Wilson started to say but was interrupted by the cute guy I saw earlier.

"I can show him where IT is Wilson." He said.

Wilson looked at the guy. "Have you had a walk yet?"

"No." He said.

Wilson squinted. "Alright fine."

The cute guy waited for Dr. Wilson to turn the corner before speaking up again. "Okay here's the deal. I can help you out but I need you to help me out."

I blinked. "What?"

"Right so I noticed your Princeton Prep uniform you wear around here and like dude really get some other clothes. But you might've heard of me, I'm Duncan Lestrade." He started.

Right okay wow he's just gonna do this right here right now. "Uh yeah, the dude with cancer." I said.

"Obviously. Anyway. I overheard some of your conversation with Wilson and I assume you're volunteering here because our school's medical club sucks ass." He went on.

I nodded.

"Right so I can put a word in for you with Wilson and Cuddy about volunteering over in Oncology if you tutor me in Science." He finished.

I thought for a moment. "So you're assuming that because I'm volunteering at a hospital I want to be a Doctor so I must be good at Science?" I asked.

"Am I wrong?" He asked.

"Well no but like…"

"What's the problem then?" He said.

I huffed. "Okay fine deal but I'm not calling you Lestrade like everyone else does at school."

"Why?" He asked.

"I don't know it sounds kind of classy, I don't really like it." I said.

"You go to a school full of rich people and you don't like classy?" He asked.

"I'm there on scholarship." I said.

"Hm all the more reason for you to tutor me… Jay Flynn." He said while pulling on my badge.

I pulled my badge back. "Okay, Dunc." I said.

"Really you're going to call me Dunc? I haven't been called that since I was like 6." He said.

"Yeah? Well, get used to it Dunc." I said with a smirk.

___

"You didn't even know where IT was." I said throwing a fry at Dunc.

"I obviously needed an excuse to talk to you." He said.

"He acted like such a rich prick at first." I said to Ivy.

"Yeah, I was kinda surprised when I heard the Football Kicker was hanging out with the new scholarship nerd and that you two weren't like together or anything." She said.

"I mean he was tutoring me." Dunc said.

"Oh come on everyone knows what tutoring means half of the time." She scoffed.

"What?" I asked.

Both of them looked at me. "God for how smart you're supposed to be you are so oblivious sometimes." Ivy said.

"People thought we were hooking up?" I squeeked.

"Yeah, I had to set the record straight." Dunc explained.

I looked at the two of them blankly. God, I have no idea about the drama that goes on in this school, do I? I get a bit of The PPTH drama from eavesdropping and House and Wilson but I don't really care too much. I'm more focused on my own life that has more than enough of its own drama. "You didn't think to mention it to me?" I said.

"You were uh dealing with stuff at the time." Dunc said.

I just stared at him.

"You know, coming out to House." He said.

Oh right. "Oh Ivy knows Dunc. She found out about my gymnastic past so there's stuff about me being trans. Man, that sucks that I'm constantly being outed." I complained.

"Couldn't you like change your last name?" Ivy asked.

I froze. I mean yes obviously but like the most reasonable one to change it to would be House and… "Hi for Christmas I'd like your last name House." I joked.

Dunc snorted.

"Just become a fae and steal it. You're Irish right?" Ivy joked.

"Ah yeah, simple let me just become a fae real quick." I shot back.

"We've somehow circled back to Christmas presents." Dunc pointed out.

"Ugh right, what the hell am I going to get him." I grumbled.

"A name change obviously." Ivy said.

"Ha very funny." I said.

"What's he like?" Dunc asked, trying to be helpful.

I sighed. "Yeah I thought about that but like… All I really know about is Motorcycles, Monster Trucks and Music."

Ivy stared at me for a moment. "Monster Trucks?"

"Yeah, apparently he likes to watch those I don't know." I said with a shrug.

"And you hate Motorcycles." Dunc said.

I nodded.

"Music is vague." Ivy said.

"He plays Guitar and Piano. Listens to a bunch of stuff but uh hates musicals so that's something that he and Wilson don't agree on." I explained.

"Oh, so Wilson is a musical gay shocking." Dunc joked.

"I'm pretty positive he's Bi first of all." I said.

"I'm just saying." He said.

I rolled my eyes. The bell rang signaling that lunch was over. "Well, that was no help thanks though." I said standing up.

"Sorry I can't always save your ass." Dunc said.

I scoffed. "Right gotcha."

He winked at me.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Oh get a room."

~~~

"Bill?" I said after I walked into IT and didn't notice him right away. I set down my backpack and Mountain Dew but kept holding the coffee that I grabbed on my way up for Bill.

"Servers." A muffled Scottish accent said.

"I'll leave the coffee out here then." I said before making my way to the server closet. I leaned against the door. "What's up?"

"Just checking a few things." Bill said looking at me. "Slow day."

"Because of all of my help clearly." I joked.

"Ah well, the coffee is nice." He said with a smirk.

"Ouch, I'm hurt." I said and fakingly clutched my chest.

"Get out of my server closet." He said shooing me out of the doorway.

"Don't have to tell me twice to leave a closet." I joked.

"Ack you and your gay jokes. I guess it makes sense living with House and Wilson." He commented after locking the closet.

"Mmm, I had two Moms at one point. If I turned out to be straight that would have been surprising." I said.

Bill just sighed. "Well, I don't have anything for you to do. Does Wilson?"

"Nah he's sick of me too." I said and sat down and the desk that I have slowly taken over. I mean the dude's got a pretty big workspace just to himself so there are multiple desks.

Bill took a sip of the coffee I got for him. "Need help with school work?" He offered.

I just stared at him. Now Bill and I are, you know, friendly with each other. I'm like some of the only social interaction the man gets on some days but like normally we just shoot a few sarcastic comments at each other and he tells me to go off and fix something somewhere. But like I'm a teenager and he's like older than House. Sure I'm a bit curious how a Scottish IT Guy ended up at PPTH but I've been too busy to ask around. "How slow has it been?" I asked.

"Slow enough I've been debating calling my Ex." He complained.

I blinked. Ex? Bill is just telling me about himself? What? I sat up a little. "I mean I know I'm only 16 but like that's probably not a great idea?" I said.

"Eh it wouldn't go anywhere anyway she's in London last I heard." Bill said.

Okay, now I'm curious. "So like-" I started but was cut off by my phone. "Uh, one sec."

Warning on the way to PPTH w Ivy. Found out about ur Uncle. Can hold off 4 bit.

My face fell. Ah great. I don't really want to deal with this right now. House and Wilson still haven't caught on to the fact that I should probably have a bunch of money. Or if they have they haven't mentioned it.

"Who found out about what?" Bill asked.

I looked up. "What?"

"You're not that hard to read Blue Jay." He said.

"My friends found out something about my family and are on their way here." I said.

"House?" He asked.

"No something on my Mom's side it's complicated." I said.

"Try me." Bill said.

I texted back that I was at IT but to take their time. "Right so you know how I go to Princeton Prep?" I said.

Bill nodded.

"Right so I'm there on an academic scholarship. The reason I applied was because you know stuff with House being my Father." I said.

Bill was going to ask a question about that but I stopped him. "Look I don't have time to go into that." I huffed. "Anyway my Uncle was a pretty famous musical actor that died in a helicopter crash a while back. When he died his money went to my Mom. And when my Mom died the logical conclusion would be that I would inherit that money. So I assume my friend Ivy is about to tear me a new one for acting all weird about rich people when I'm probably rich." I explained.

Bill just stared at me for a moment. "Jay what your friends think about you having money or not is not that big of a problem."

Oh, he's right actually. This is like the least of my problems. "That's uh pretty helpful." I mumbled.

"I can be sometimes." Bill said. He stood up and threw away the empty coffee cup. "How long until they get here?"

"Well assuming Ivy's driving not long." I sighed.

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Fast driver?"

"From what I've heard." I said.

"Well good luck." Bill said while making his way to the door.

"Wait hold up you leaving me?" I asked.

"As much as I'd love to stay and hear about your high school drama I'm needed in one of the lecture halls. Don't forget to lock up when you leave" Bill said and left me alone.

This is going to be great.

10 minutes later Ivy smashed through the door with Dunc mouthing a Sorry shortly behind. "You failed to mention who your Uncle was." She said.

I looked up from my history textbook. "You never asked."

"Lestrade knew!" Ivy exclaimed.

"Wilson mentioned it to him. Not that I wanted him to." I said.

"Here you are this whole time with this 'Oh I'm not Rich Superiority Complex' when in reality you're probably richer than the both of our families combined." Ivy ranted.

I slammed the history textbook on the desk and stood up. "Look Ivy. There's a lot of reasons why I don't like talking about this but if you really want me to go into it I will." I said.

"Explain yourself." Ivy said now in my face.

"Now obviously even if I do have a bunch of money which I mentioned to Dunc I'm not even entirely sure I do. I'd much rather have my Uncle or Mother instead. Connor's money was always a sore subject for my Mom because her being a Single Mom with lots of student loans she had to come to him for help. She never wanted to. Mom was going to pay him back even though Connor said it was unnecessary but then he died and she got all of his money. Mom never touched it. I know she thought about donating it but she was so busy and never had the time to figure out what to do with it. I grew up middle class. The idea of having a lot of money is foreign to me." I explained.

The two of them stood there for a while. No one wanting to break the silence. "Look I'm sorry for misleading you two I just don't know how to handle these things very well." I said.

"Right well how about we all get something to eat." Dunc said.

"I guess that sounds like a plan." Ivy said.

I was about to say I'm still volunteering but Bill walked in. "Ah are these your two friends?" He asked.

"Uh yeah. Duncan Lestrade and Ivy Adler." I said.

"Bill Baxter. I really don't have anything for you to do Jay. You should go have fun with your friends. You won't be a teenager for much longer." He said.

"I uh but-" I started.

"No buts get out." He said.

"Right okay I guess we will get something to eat then." I said.

~~~

I was having trouble making eye contact with Thirteen. We've already done the more invasive parts of the physical but I'm just uncomfortable anyway. We're just in the middle of the questions now.

"Smoke?" She asked.

"No." I said.

"Drink." She asked.

"No." I said.

"Sexually Active?" She asked.

"No." I said.

"Thoughts of harming yourself or others?" She asked.

I paused. Technically no I haven't gotten that far yet but… "No."

Thirteen looked at me clearly noticing my hesitation. "Jay you can be honest with me. You've lost a parent it's not unusual to be experiencing-" She started.

"I'm fine." I said looking at her.

"Wilson told me he's worried." She said.

Of course, he did. I crossed my arms. "He worries about everything. Dude's not even my Dad." I said.

"If you need to talk to someone Jay you can. Doesn't matter who but I'd recommend maybe avoiding House." She said.

Yeah, House probably wouldn't be the best person to talk to.

"Can we move on?" I sighed.

She looked at me for a moment before continuing. "Do you feel unsafe at home?" She asked.

"No." I said.

~~~

After Cheerleading practice Ivy decided to drag me to the mall for Christmas shopping. Seeing as I'm still trying to figure out a present for House , I reluctantly agreed. "This is it?" I asked once we were in the Mall.

Ivy gave me a weird look as we went down the escalator. "Yes?"

"Kinda small." I said with a shrug.

"Aren't you from the Midwest? Malls must be tiny there?" She said.

"Ah well, fun fact about Minnesota is that we were the first State to have a fully enclosed indoor Mall. On top of that, I was a short drive away from The Mall of America so I was a little spoiled." I explained.

"Why do you know such random shit?" Ivy asked as we wandered into some clothing store.

"Dunno. I have a pretty good memory but like I don't really get to choose what I remember." I said.

"So your brain thinks random facts about Malls in Minnesota is important?" She questioned.

"I guess. On the bright side, I'm pretty good at trivia." I said.

Ivy just rolled her eyes. "Anyway. You have feelings for Lestrade?" She asked suddenly.

I froze just holding a random shoe in my hand. "What kind of feelings?" I played dumb.

Ivy was unamused with my attempt at playing dumb. "It's fairly obvious you have a crush on him."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I lied while setting the shoe down.

"I'm pretty positive he feels the same way." Ivy continued.

"Ha someone having a crush on me? Funny." I joked.

Ivy just rolled her eyes. "Not like you'd ever be the one to make the first move anyway."

"I know that's a sound analysis but it still hurts a little." I huffed.

"Right well you figure out a gift for House yet?" She asked.

"No. We should probably pop in the music store." I said.

"Sounds like a plan." Ivy said.

Thankfully I finally found the perfect thing at the music store.

~~~

I never really mentioned it to House or Wilson but I do enjoy Christmas quite a bit. It's not my favorite holiday. Halloween is that but I don't know there's something about it. It is a bit more somber for me personally this year because it's the first Christmas without my Mom but I'm trying to ignore that fact. So on Christmas Eve, I made my way to PPTH to drop off my presents I got for Kutner, Thirteen, Taub, Foreman, Cuddy, Chase, and of course Bill. I was humming to the Christmas songs on my iPod as I made my way to my first stop, Dr. Cuddy.

Now I know that Cuddy, Taub, and Wilson are Jewish but they all seem to be mostly non practicing for the most part. And I don't think anyone can really argue with receiving a gift right?

I took out my earbuds and knocked on the door. "Come in." Cuddy said.

"Hey." I said while walking up to her desk.

"Oh, Jay I wasn't expecting you. Nice hat." She said.

Yeah, I decided to wear my Santa hat today seeing as I'm dropping off a bunch of gifts. "Thanks! I'm just dropping off a quick gift." I said and pulled the present out of my backpack. Normally I wear my messenger bag to PPTH but I needed a bigger bag… I set the present on her desk.

"Oh wow! I didn't know you were getting anything." She said.

"Uh, no need to get me anything. I just like to give people gifts on Christmas you know. Besides you've been really nice to me and you definitely didn't have to." I said while rubbing the back of my neck.

"You know it really is a wonder how you're related to House sometimes." She joked.

"I'm a prime example of nature vs nurture." I joked back. "I need to get going though I got more people to get to." I said.

"How many people did you get gifts for?" She asked.

"Uhhh… besides House, Wilson, and my friends. Seven people?" I said while counting on my fingers.

"That's a lot." She said looking surprised.

"I guess it is. Isn't it." I said before leaving.

Next on my list is Chase. Hopefully, he's not in the middle of surgery right now.

I found him on his way out of an OR on his way to get some food. "Chase!" I called.

"Oh hey there Blue Jay." He said.

"Not gonna take up too much of your time but I got you a small thing for Christmas." I said and handed Chase the present.

"Never thought I'd see the day I'd get a Christmas present from a House." He joked.

"I mean my last name is technically Flynn but sure." I said.

"Well, thanks Jay." He said.

"Yeah, no problem dude." I said with a thumbs up before running off down the hallway.

I went into IT with You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch blaring from my iPod. Or a least as much as an iPod could. "You're A Mean One Mr. Baxter" I sang along as a joke.

Bill looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Didn't realize you thought of me that way Mr. Flynn." He said.

"Sorry, it's my favorite Christmas song." I said with a shrug.

"That's your favorite Christmas song?" He asked.

"What can I say? It's a bop." I said.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Why are you here anyway? It's your Christmas break and I would love to not be working." He asked.

"Ah well, you see." I said and pulled out the present. "I have this for you."

"Oh." Bill said.

"Yeah think fast." I said and threw it at him.

Bill caught the present with no hesitation. "I never really took you as the gifting type." He said.

"Well, I always love to subvert expectations." I said and did a curtsy. "Anyway, I have one more stop so bye." I said and waved Bill off.

~~~

Thankfully House's Team was all there. They were doing a differential diagnosis so it makes sense that they would be. I walked in quietly trying to not interrupt. Also because seeing a real differential diagnosis live would be pretty cool.

All of them did take note of me walking in but kept shooting off ideas anyway. House shot most of them down for various reasons. "Do you four really have nothing better than that? I bet Jay could come up with something better and he's only sitting in on medical classes." House ranted at them before turning to me.

All of them were now staring at me.

I looked blankly at House. "You actually want a suggestion?" I asked.

He waved his hand in front of the whiteboard.

I set down my backpack and walked up to the whiteboard to take a better look. "Legionnaires' Disease." I said with a shrug not really sure what to suggest.

The five of them stayed quiet for a moment. "Look I'm in High School I don't really know what I'm talking about." I said softly.

"Kutner and Foreman check the workplace. Thirteen and Taub start him on antibiotics." House said.

The four of them started to get up to leave. "Oh wait! Before you leave. I have Christmas presents for you guys." I said awkwardly.

"You didn't come to show us up?" Taub said.

"N-no?" I said while scrambling to my backpack to get the presents. "Right uh here's Taub's." I said and handed it to him.

He nodded and took it.

"Foreman." I said.

"We've barely talked." He said while taking the present.

"I mean it would be rude to show up here with gifts for everyone but you." I said.

"Thirteen. Thanks for the physical." I said whispering the last part.

"No problem Jay." She said.

Taub and Thirteen left to tend to the patient and Foreman went to wait for Kutner outside. "Last but not least." I said handing Kutner his present.

"You're still on for Star Trek the day after Christmas right?" He asked and walked over to another part of the room.

"I mean yeah." I said.

"Great! Here." He said and handed me a gift back.

"Oh!" I said.

"What not expecting one?" He said.

"I mean you're the first person to give me one in return so yes?" I said.

"Oh… Well, you're a pretty cool kid. Besides you need that." He said while tapping the present he got me.

"Well you don't need what I got you but I hope you like it." I said with a smile.

"I sure I will. I better get going before House notices I'm still here." Kutner said and left.

I tucked Kutner's present in my backpack and glanced at House's office. I can only hope that he'll like what I got him.

~~~

"You know I swear we had more eggnog." Wilson said.

"Yeah weird." I said like I totally didn't drink quite a bit. House found out but he didn't care. Only Wilson is in the dark.

"Maybe you drank more than you thought." House said.

Nice cover House…

Wilson glared at him.

I bounced up to a standing position on the couch. "Right we're doing presents now. I've been waiting far too long with you two being at work all day." I said pointing at House and Wilson.

"You could've just opened them." House said making his way to the couch.

"Actually no. It's my first Christmas with you two so we're doing this at least once." I said.

And the first Christmas without Mom.

Wilson chuckled and grabbed his gift for me and threw it in my lap. "Go wild."

"For Blue Jay, you've been needing a new one of these. Love Wilson." I read the tag before opening.

My eyes lit up at the new binder. "How do you know my size?" I asked.

"He checked your laundry." House said.

"Oh. That's pretty obvious I guess." I said. "Thank you so much Wilson." I said and hugged him.

Wilson was a little surprised by the hug. Then again he doesn't know I'm buzzed so you know. "Okay, so you have to open mine for you now." I said and handed him the present.

Wilson read the tag with a small smile. "Is this?" He asked after opening the present.

"Yes! Uncle Connor gave me a lot of props from the musicals he was in. You're more into that stuff so." I said.

"That's probably worth some money." House said.

"Yeah." Wilson said wide-eyed.

I laughed. "I'm glad you like it. Here House." I said and threw him his gift.

He caught it. "Very light."

I shrugged.

House opened the present. It's a flaming guitar strap. "To match your cane." I said with a smirk.

Wilson chuckled which made me lose my composure and start laughing too.

He got up and put the strap on one of his guitars. "Bitchin." He said.

Wilson and I laughed harder.

House sat back down on the couch this time strumming some Christmas songs. He slid me a large envelope. "Here Kid."

"You got me a massive card?" I joked.

House kept playing the guitar.

I opened it. Looks like some sort of legal documents. "Is this?" I asked.

House stopped playing. "Wilson asked your friends what you wanted. Told them you said you hated how you were constantly getting outed by your last name. Even joked that you'd like a name change for Christmas." He said.

"And you're fine with it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "You're my son. Jay House makes sense."

I bit my lip. Wow okay, Jay don't cry. That eggnog definitely didn't seem like a great idea now.

House got up and put the guitar back. Once it was back I ran up and hugged him."Thanks… Dad." I said."

"Oh okay. You're definitely not getting eggnog next year." House said.

"You gave him WHAT!" Wilson exclaimed.

"Wilson we're having a moment." I whined.

"I didn't give it to him. I walked in on Jay drinking the rest of the Eggnog." House said and pulled me off of him.

Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose. "So you just covered for him?"

"He's 16." House said with a shrug.

"House not only is the drinking age 21 but he's a minor." Wilson said.

I listened to the two of them argue while I opened Kutner's present. "Oh, dope." I said.

They turned to me. "Who's that from?" Wilson asked.

"Kutner." I said and balanced the Star Trek The Next Generation DVD Box Set on my head.

Wilson just sighed.

"Oh! I should text him thanks!" I said and ran off to grab my phone in my room.

Thank 4 Sar Trek I"v ben wantin it

JF… ER WAITTT JH!!!

A few minutes later a text was sent back.

I assume u are drunk. Thx 4 matching Communicator Pin not sure what it sig means I guess I'll find out later.

I tried to explain it in another text.

Nam different nowww!

Kutner decided rightly to not respond.

AN: Wow I forgot how long this chapter was... Sorry for the long delay. This chapter has been written for a while too I have no excuse. Will I ever get to an update schedule of one fanfic update per week? Not at this rate...

#Blue Jay Series #writing

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seasonofthegeek · 4 years

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Here comes a personal post because this week has been a doozy and I want to get some words out. Also please don’t reblog this post. This is just for me to get some thoughts down and there’s no reason to spread it. Thanks. :)

Back in May, I began having passive suicidal thoughts and knew I needed to get some help. I didn’t want to actively hurt myself, but I thought it might be better for everyone in my life if something happened to me and I died. After a visit to the doctor, I started an antidepressant that worked for me and I got back to a mental level I was more comfortable with. A few months later, something happened to someone I love dearly and it showed me that I was just teetering on the edge, even with the meds, so I sought out a therapist to have someone outside of my life to talk to.

It’s been a great experience and my therapist is easy to talk to but also good at keeping me accountable in the tasks I’ve set for myself, while also reminding me that it’s okay to fail. She listens and offers advice when it’s warranted and some sessions I’ve just walked in and word vomited for an hour and that’s been fine. A few sessions ago, she suggested I start seeing a psychiatrist to get to the root of some of my issues. She was wondering if I had bipolar disorder (my brother was diagnosed with it ) and put the ball in my court to contact someone if it was something I wanted to explore further.

I was an anxious mess but called one of the psychiatrists my therapist recommended and set up an appointment. That appointment finally came up this past Tuesday and after battling an angry child not wanting to go to school, no time for breakfast, construction traffic, and school traffic, I finally made it to my appointment twenty minutes late (I called on the way, of course).

I was a wreck and almost didn’t get out of my car when I pulled into the parking lot, but I forced myself out into the cold and then into an unknown office. After a few minutes, I was taken back to meet my psychiatrist and he was one of those people who can immediately put others at ease. He recognized the My Hero characters on my hoodie and told me his daughter loved the show. He smiled and made small talk.

And then he read aloud the notes my therapist had sent him with my consent.

I’m going to be honest, it was ROUGH hearing everything I’ve been dealing with read by someone I just met in the span of a few minutes. He went through it simply, not commenting, just relaying information. I took a big breath when he finished and told him it was hard to hear it all at once. And he smiled and suggested we just start from the beginning.

And that’s how the rest of the appointment was. He was pleasant and kept things simple and asked questions that led me down different paths of conversation. He told me that I would be diagnosing myself with his help and that I had all the power.

It was refreshing.

My therapist is great and she has helped me with a lot of issues, but she can mainly just offer advice on how to deal with things.

My psychiatrist led me to understand why I deal with the issues I have and where they stem from. It was something I’d never given much thought to honestly. I’ve had bad things happen to me, I think everyone has in different degrees, but I didn’t think any of them really shaped the person I am. I was wrong.

After discussing things, we both decided that I’m not bipolar because it didn’t fit for me. I do have depression and anxiety though and they were manifesting in ways that can mimic some of the symptoms of bipolar disorder. I have a feeling I’m always going to remember how he explained my level of anxiety too.

Dr. S: If I said to you, Kayla, do you think most people deal with this level of anxiety in their day to day lives? Would you say “no” or would you say “duh”?

Me, thinking my high level of anxiety is completely ordinary, laughed: I’d say duh.

Dr. S with his nice smile: Ah, see, that’s not the case.

Me: ...oh. Ohhhhhhh.

It was a bit of a revelation to find out this brain stuff I deal with constantly isn’t the norm for everyone else. I didn’t realize most people don’t think when they tell their family goodbye in the morning that it might be the last time they see them because something horrible is going to happen or that their house is going to catch on fire when they go on vacation. I didn’t know most other people didn’t check for their keys three to four times before locking their cars in the fear of locking themselves out. It didn’t occur to me that a lot of people don’t think their friends hate them just because they haven’t spoken in a few hours/days/weeks.

It was almost a relief to find out and at the same time there was morbid fascination in realizing how off my thinking is because of the anxiety.

He helped me trace it all the way back to being a child and what caused it and how the depression came into play because the anxiety was fear and fear made me feel helpless and that made me angry. I used to have angry outbursts and temper tantrums out of the blue up to adulthood. I learned to monitor myself better and get things out before they blew up as I got older, but with Dr. S’s help, I could go back and see where it had started and that I’ve carried it my whole life.

I’ll probably always carry it, but now I know and now I can start working on it.

So that’s what happened with me and my brain stuff which is more than enough for one week, but my son’s brain stuff came into play on Friday.

My son is, goodness, he’s just amazing. He’s my world. He’s funny and goofy and creative and a butthead and moody and loving and better than I could’ve ever imagined. For the past couple of years, it’s become more and more obvious that he wasn’t quite like other kids his age. He was developing slower and didn’t start really speaking until he started doing speech therapy. Even after a little over a year, a lot of his speech still comes from mimicking.

He started school this year and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I was called back in on the first day after he’d been there for two hours. He’d had a meltdown in the cafeteria because it was too loud and his speech therapist (who thankfully was the same person he’d been working with the previous year as a private student) picked him up from his class and took him to her room as a safe space for him to calm down. He adores her and was able to soothe himself as soon as he was in that familiar setting. I went to a meeting on the first day of school to find that my son was not going to be able to make it through the whole school day, but the school wanted to work with him so he’d still be able to attend. We cut his days down to two and a half hours and went from there.

A month or so after that, a meeting was set up with the district psychologist who wanted permission to observe him and see what further help might be needed. She suggested letting an occupational therapist and physical therapist observe and test him too and I consented to all it. He was having issues connecting to the other kids in his class and he couldn’t seem to follow the schedule. The teacher worked with him the best she could, giving him a visual task calendar he could follow and use to point to and other similar things, but she also has seventeen other students. I knew more help was needed.

So for the past couple of months, he’s been going to his general education class and his speech therapy while also being observed by a psychologist on some days. He did a couple of sessions of testing with an occupational therapist and a physical therapist (who cleared him with a laugh that he is definitely strong and super fast). It was all coming down to the meeting we had on Friday.

Seven women sat around the table and showed me how each of them wanted to help my son. I’m tearing up just thinking back on it, to be honest. The psychologist broke everything down for me and made sure I could see every step of the process they’d all gone through while watching my son. At the beginning of the year, he’d started with paperwork stating that he was receiving help with speech and language but that was being moved to a secondary position because he was now being categorized as mild to moderate on the autism spectrum.

I’d had a feeling about autism. I’d wondered about it from time to time. He fit some of the indicators. Like with finding out about myself, it was a bit of a relief. There’s something about knowing that is just so helpful because then you can ask, “Okay, what are the next steps we need to take?”

They suggested moving him into the special education class. It’s half the size of the class he is currently in, he’s already familiar with the teacher, his speech therapist works in that class a lot, and he knows two of the students from his group speech sessions.

LIfe is kinda funny how it works out sometimes. My mom has worked with special ed kids most of my life. I went into her classroom all through high school and got to know the students in there. We’ve discussed the past year or so that my son might need that kind of help, even if it is only for a little while. So when this group of teachers and therapists and the psychologist recommended moving him, I felt comfortable agreeing. I know from the other side of things that it is not something done lightly or suggested easily.

The psychologist even said it might be something he only needs for a year or two and if they can get him coming to school for longer periods of time, they want to get him back into the general class he was in for short periods. I know they’re looking out for him. They’ve already done so much to accommodate him and I can see they truly care for his development. I feel really lucky that he is going to the school he’s at.

I’m relieved and I’m worried. He’ll start his new class on Monday and I know it’s going to be a tough transition, but I hope it’s for the best. He’s such a smart kid and he’s got a great imagination and I know he’s got a lot going on in that lil noggin. I just want to do the best I can for him.

So I’m watching out for him and I’m trying to take care of me for me and for him (and for my husband and my best friend and my parents). It’s been a lot to learn in the span of a few days but I feel hopeful for the future. <3

#personal post #tw suicude #anxiety #depression #autism

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richincolor · 4 years

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Group Discussion Post: Yes, No, Maybe So

With Super Tuesday just hours behind us (and I predict we won’t get full results for days) and an election with so much on the line, Aisha Saeed’s & Becky Albertalli’s “Yes, No, Maybe So,” is extremely timely. It follows two teens whose parents essentially “volunteer” them into canvassing for a local election, and through their experience become more politically aware while also falling in love at the same time.

K. Imani: I really enjoyed this book. There were so many sweet moments, funny moments, frustrating moments, etc. It was such a timely novel and one that I truly loved. What did you all think of the book?

Jessica: I loved it! The book was sweet and inspiring and just so much fun to read all at once. It actually was the push I needed to sign up for some phone banking and community canvassing.

Crystal: I fell right into the story and loved it. There were humorous moments amid the serious times. Seeing the passion that could flare up in both Jamie and Maya around their ideals and beliefs gave me hope for the future. Young people often see things and don’t pay attention just like anyone else, but when they see an injustice that tugs at them, watch out.

Audrey: I really enjoyed it! I’ve never been involved in a political campaign, so seeing what it could be like from a teenager’s perspective was really interesting! It was a good reminder that campaigns need people of all ages and abilities to help them out.

Crystal: Audrey you reminded me of my own canvassing. I’ve been involved in several campaigns both calling and knocking on doors. I totally sympathized with Jamie because that is so incredibly uncomfortable for me. I have to be truly passionate about a candidate or a specific election to actually be putting myself out there with strangers.

K. Imani: I really enjoyed how Maya and Jamie’s relationship developed slowly over time as they established a deep friendship first where they were able to openly share and trust each other. For example, Jamie’s misstep with buying Maya breakfast during Ramadan and after her correcting him, that he took what she said to heart and using it as an opportunity to learn. This was really sweet of him and allowed Maya to really begin to trust him. What did you all enjoy about their relationship?

Jessica: Agreed. I loved how Maya and Jamie learned from each other. I really appreciated that the book demonstrated how people can make mistakes and come to understand each other more -- and it doesn’t have to be a painful or shameful process. I also loved how Jamie was so inspired by Maya and vice versa. It’s truly the best part of a relationship -- making each other better. So heartwarming!

Audrey: Yeah, it was really nice to see these two fumble things but still come back around to apologizing and promising to do better. It was a great message--even when you’re on the same side, mistakes still happen! But it’s important to apologize and make corrections and then stop making the mistake. I loved the interplay between them and how they each inspired each other--it was a great relationship, both platonic and romantic.

Crystal: I loved that it felt so real. Their bumbles, apologies, and awkwardness all show that this isn’t some fairytale situation. It’s the everydayness that is lovely. Staying on the phone forever because they don’t want to say goodbye is super sweet, but also extremely believable. It’s not fancy romantic, but it’s romantic just the same.

K. Imani: The novel takes place in a Blue enclave within a Red state and really shows the stakes of what Progressives are fighting for. What stood out to you about Maya and Jamie’s experiences? For me, when they went to their State Representative’s offices to talk about the bill that would essentially ban hijabs and the gaslighting that happens in that meeting. I was so frustrated for them, but it reflected a frustration I have with our country right now and it felt like one of the realist moments in the novel.

Jessica: I definitely got the vibe that the book was set in a similar setting to Jon Ossoff’s run in Georgia several years ago, and that race was cited in the acknowledgements at the end of the book. For a lot of young people -- teens, college students, and young adults -- coming of age politically pre- and post-2016, what happens in government has direct (sometimes positive, sometimes very negative) impact on their lives, especially if they come from a marginalized background. What really stood out to me was actually how Maya and Jamie’s friends were portrayed -- how easy it is for people from privileged backgrounds to check out of current events and feel like it isn’t important. But ultimately, Maya and Jamie managed to inspire their friends to get invested and involved. It isn’t easy, but it’s possible! Love that note of hope.

Audrey: One of the things that stood out most to me was how often Maya or Jamie noted that self-described “nice” people will still cheerfully vote for people and policies that will directly harm their own family or friends or neighbors. Because, yeah--I definitely saw a lot of that. And it hurt every time they noticed it. I was relieved that they were able to get through to some of their friends, too. Especially since their focus was on getting out their base to vote rather than trying to win over moderates.

Crystal: That meeting with at the government office was extremely frustrating to behold. There were even more interactions with friends who just didn’t notice the issues or understand how something that affects one part of their community really affects them all.

K. Imani: This book is culturally relevant as it also explores White Supremacists trolls through the use of Fifi, the white poodle, as the Pepe frog, which both bothered me and intrigued me. I feel like including Fifi really captures the time period we are living in and can stand as an example of what life is in the Trump era.

Audrey: I was so happy that they came up with a way to counter Fifi! But what really stuck with me was how the vandalizer tried to downplay their actions--it’s just trolling, it’s just a joke, you shouldn’t get upset about this. We’d seen Maya and Jamie’s reactions to finding the stickers before and none of it was a joke to them.

Crystal: The Fifi does really feel current and all too familiar. This topic reminds me of Jamie’s grandma. You better watch out because when she rattles off a person’s entire name she means business. She made me smile many times and I’d love to see her Insta account. Grandparent relationships can be so awesome and it was nice to see a “grandma’s boy” in print.

K. Imani: With such an important election in front of us, what other political inspired YA are you looking forward to this year?

Jessica: Speaking of politics-related YA, I’m really, really, really looking forward to RUNNING by Natalia Sylvester. I have its release date marked on my calendar and everything.

Crystal: I’m definitely looking forward to Brandy Colbert’s The Voting Booth and This is My America by Kim Johnson. One I recently read that I’ll be putting into lots of hands is Stamped: Racism Antiracism and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi.

Audrey: I’m looking forward to reading all of those!

And with that, our discussion comes to an end. We’d love to hear what you all thought of the book, so leave a comment below.

#group discussion #WeNeedDiverseBooks

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frauleinsmaria · 5 years

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The Facebook Flub (3/4)

Summary: When Emma accidentally sends a friend request to the wrong person, she doesn’t expect much to come of it. But maybe this accident is the best decision she’s ever made.

Rated T

Part 1: AO3 | Tumblr |

Part 2: AO3 | Tumblr

Part 3: AO3

A/N: Hi, yes, I know it's been a while. Sorry about that. All I can say is that retail management is hard and has taken quite the toll on my energy and my muse over the past few weeks. The good news is that things are starting to look up, and I expect to have the fourth and final chapter finished soonish. (Yes, it's four parts now instead of three. I can't believe I expected this to be a one-shot for a while there.)

Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Also, much thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for providing beta duties <3

The first week or so after Killian’s return to London went by too quickly for her to fully absorb his absence. Between tracking down a high profile skip, dealing with a leak in her water heater, and helping David and Mary Margaret prepare for Leo’s upcoming birthday party, she had little energy at the end of the day for more than a brief conversation with him before going straight to bed.

As expected, her brother hadn’t been thrilled to hear from his wife that not only had Killian spent the weekend staying with her, but that they were now more than friends as well. She did think it helped that Killian had met David and gotten on his good side before any of this development happened. Emma would just tell Killian to bring up the Orioles if David ever tried to be intimidating again.

It wasn’t until things returned back to normal that Emma’s guilt began to sink in. She and Killian had made the decision to try being long-distance just days ago, and she already felt like a horrible girlfriend. (The term still seemed weird when referring to herself. A good weird, though, a weird that made her heart skip a beat and her stomach swoop whenever it crossed her mind. She hadn’t been anyone’s girlfriend in years.)

She shared as much with Killian during a phone call on the first night she had both time and energy to hold a coherent discussion. “Are you sure you’re still up to make this work with a girl who’s barely talked to you in over a week?”

“Love, I know you’ve had quite a few things to keep you preoccupied lately. Besides, I’m in this for the long haul. Even with your disorganized cabinets and liking for overly processed breakfast pastries.”

Emma didn’t have to question his statement to know it was true. He really was all in as long as she was willing. “Good to know. Although I’ll never understand what Pop Tarts have done to you to deserve such wrath.”

“Do you truly not pay attention to the taste while you’re eating them, Swan? It’s like chewing sugar-coated chemicals.”

“And I love them.”

Their routine soon went back to what it had been before Killian’s visit: late night calls, Netflix binges, a FaceTime session when he tried to walk her through a lasagna recipe for dinner at Ruby’s. The only difference was the sense of longing that inevitably set in after being together and then apart from the person she’d come to care for more than she’d thought was possible.

It was so different before. She hadn’t known what it was like to look him in the eyes, to share space with him, to kiss him and feel his skin against her own. Emma often had to remind herself to take just one step at a time. While their relationship might have been a long time coming, it was still new and they were only just beginning to figure out the specifics of this thing between them. Of course it felt normal to miss him, but she was making an effort not to be one of those people who spent every waking moment thinking about their significant other. Some days were harder to do that than others, but it didn’t hurt that she had a job and family and friends to keep her busy when they weren’t spending time with each other.

Killian gave her the news at the beginning of October. It was a Tuesday that felt more like a Monday- her coffee pot had kicked the bucket that morning, she had fallen while chasing a skip later that day and torn a hole in her favorite pair of jeans, and she’d been dealing with cramps from hell all day.

She was relaying all of this to Killian over the phone when she arrived home that evening. Upon entering her apartment, she’d dropped her bag and coat in the hallway and made a beeline for the freezer, her phone tucked between her chin and shoulder as she dug out the pint of Phish food she’d been saving for a special (or particularly awful) occasion. The only thing she’d eaten for lunch was a salad with stale crackers, so it felt like she earned this.

“So, basically, I just wanna eat my ice cream and watch Netflix and ignore the rest of the world unless it has good news for me.”

“I’m sorry you had such a rubbish day, love,” said Killian. “Although I do have something to share that you might consider good news.”

“Please, I’m all ears.”

“Well, I suppose I should ask first if you’re doing anything the last weekend of the month?”

Emma glanced up at the calendar hanging on her fridge that she haphazardly scribbled appointments and birthdays on from time to time. Nothing was written down for the days he’d mentioned. “I’m all clear.”

“Good. I was hoping you might be up for having company.”

It took her a moment to process his words. “Wait, seriously?!”

“Aye. Liam and I finally got a chance to discuss those vacation days I mentioned to you before I left. Luckily enough, this seems like the best time to use them before everything picks up for the holidays.”

Killian was right, he had mentioned trying to visit again sooner than later on that morning she’d taken him to the airport. She’d known he was serious, but hadn’t expected him to work things out quite so soon. “So I can have you to myself all weekend again?”

“Indeed. We can make cupcakes again if you want.”

“So you’re staying at my place again and expecting to get lucky? Making me chocolate cupcakes is the least you can do, Jones.”

Their routine saw little change over the next few weeks aside from the excitement of knowing when they would get to see each other again. Of course some things were still tricky, especially when there would be an unexpected change in their work schedules or social lives, but the distance and time spent apart were a bit easier to deal with by a glance at her calendar and the red circle she’d marked around that particular weekend.

Emma was at the bathroom sink getting ready for bed when a Voice Calling request from WhatsApp popped up on her phone screen. It wasn’t a surprise to see Killian’s name since he was the only person she used the app to talk to, but she hadn’t expected to hear from him so late the night before his flight to Boston.

She finished washing her makeup off and quickly patted her face dry with a towel before answering. “Killian?”

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Emma, happy birthday to you.”

“Barely midnight and I’m getting serenaded to already? Twenty-eight is off to a great start.” She knew Killian would be gloating if he could see the grin on her face. “Thank you, Killian. But why are you awake? Insomnia aside, it’s five in the morning for you, and you have a flight this afternoon.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane. Besides, I’d feel like a sorry boyfriend if I wasn’t the first person to tell you happy birthda-” the sentence was cut off as she heard him yawn through the phone.

“Uh huh. Argue all you want, but I think you need to sleep now.”

Killian sighed. “Perhaps you’re right, love.”

“Of course. Either way, it’s my birthday; being right about everything is part of the territory.” He knew better than to object. “Thank you again for calling, but seriously, go to bed. I’ll see you at the airport this afternoon.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes, my love.”

Emma never would have pictured herself to be the kind of person who ran through a crowded airport to throw her arms around someone. (She’d probably made fun of people who did as much on occasion.) Yet that’s exactly what she did the moment she saw Killian enter the waiting area that afternoon. The excitement of being with him again drowned out any rational thoughts as she bolted towards him and nearly knocked him over with the impact of her hug.

She heard his bag drop to the floor beside them as he pulled her close. “Bloody hell, this is quite the welcome.”

“Sorry.” She quickly pulled back. Her face burned with the realization of what she must have looked like, all but throwing herself at a man she’d been dating no more than a month. Was she going to make him regret coming to see her before they even made it out of the airport?

“Hey.” She’d glanced down, but Killian placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up until their eyes met. “I’m not complaining. It’s nice to see you apparently missed me as much as I did you.” He leaned in to catch her lips in a quick kiss, chaste considering the location, but enough to leave her head spinning. “Happy birthday, Swan.”

“Thank you. Even if there’s not a song to go along with it this time.”

“I could still sing for you if you want. Who knows, someone might record it and we could go viral.”

“That’s sweet, but I’m content with living in anonymity for now.”

“Suit yourself, love.”

They headed back to her apartment where Emma suspected they would remain for the rest of the day. Killian had insisted on taking her to do something for her birthday while he was there, but she’d suggested they at least wait until Thursday- he would have denied her claims if she mentioned it, but she could tell he was exhausted, whether it be from jet lag, overall lack of sleep, or both. There were noticeable lines around his eyes and she knew he yawned quite a few times on the drive home when he thought she wasn’t looking.

But any evidence of his fatigue was gone the moment they entered her apartment. As soon as the door shut behind them, Killian captured her lips in a kiss that made her head spin, his hands going to her waist as he pressed her up against the wall.

The kiss was somehow soft, but not without the burning passion she’d felt the last time they’d kissed, really kissed, brief, chaste moments at the airport not included. This time, she wasn’t worried over her feelings for him or getting ready to tell him goodbye. He was there, he cared about her, he wanted her, and they had each other to themselves for the next four days. Emma’s hands went to his shoulders and she sighed happily against his lips.

She broke the kiss when the need to breathe became unbearable. “Wow. I guess I really was missed.”

“You have no idea. I wanted to do that at the airport, but, y’know, public indecency and all,” he smirked.

“Good thing we’re not in public anymore then.” She kissed him again before he could respond.

They didn’t make it to her room this time, all but collapsing onto the couch and coming together, the culmination of their time apart and anticipation over finally being reunited again. It wasn’t unlike the kiss they’d just shared, soft and tender yet providing the realization that no one had ever been able to set Emma’s pulse racing quite like him.

“Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t kiss me like that at the airport.” After, she and Killian had both changed into sweatpants and settled in front of the TV. He had chosen one of their favorite episodes of The Office and she laid curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his chest.

“I told you, love.”

The episode was halfway over when he asked, “Why am I feeling as if we’re a middle aged couple who does nothing but sit in front of their TV?” He attempted to fein concern, but she could tell he found it funny.

Emma laughed. “Because that’s usually what we do. TV is easy to bond over. I have a few things in mind we can do this weekend since you won’t have work stuff though.”

“Aye. I like my job, but I must admit it’s nice to not have to worry about it for a few days.”

“Yeah, you have me to take up your time instead.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The rest of their evening saw no differences other than ordering a pizza for dinner, and Killian nodding off on her shoulder just after eight. It was all Emma could do to pull him up off of the couch and guide him down the hall to her room in his half-asleep state. He collapsed onto the bed without ceremony, snoring before his head hit the pillow. She couldn’t help but smile as she snapped a picture for him to see later before crawling under the covers to join him.

Killian’s reaction to her alarm the next morning was not unlike his feelings toward his own the morning after their first night together. “Make it stop, love,” he groaned, voice thick with sleep as her phone rang incessantly.

She rubbed her eyes and reached over to grab her phone from the nightstand, disabling the alarm. The noise abruptly stopped. Killian let out a sigh of relief, then groaned again when she made to get up. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back down to him. “C’mon, Swan. Five more minutes?”

Emma rolled her eyes at him. (Or she thought she did; in her caffeine-deprived state, she couldn’t be sure of anything just yet.) He sounded more like a child than a grown man in his thirties. “Uh uh. I know how this works: five minutes turns into fifteen, then thirty. Next thing you know, I’m an hour late for work.”

“Aye, but don’t you technically make your own hours?”

“Most of the time, yes. But I need to go in and take care of some things for this case so I won’t have to worry about it over the weekend. Trust me, I have no desire to work today either, but this afternoon, I’ll be all yours until Sunday.”

“Good to know. If I recall correctly, we still have a birthday to celebrate.”

“Sure do.” She leaned over and kissed him before finally getting out of bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower, so why don’t you try to go back to sleep? I’ll make sure to come tell you bye before I leave.”

He yawned and mumbled something that sounded like, “If you insist,” before rolling over onto his side. His breathing had evened out again before she left the room.

She left her spare key on the kitchen counter for Killian for when he became tired of sitting around in the apartment. It wasn’t much of a surprise when she received a text around lunchtime.

Hello, Swan. I hope your work day is going smoothly. I’m going for a walk around the city to get some fresh air and caffeine. Anything you’d like for me to bring back?

Just yourself. Something tells me I’m going to be ready to leave for a good meal as soon as I get home tonight.

No Granny’s this time?

Nope. I love Ruby, but there’s no way I’m giving her an opportunity to invade this time.

Good point.

She left work as soon as she could and went back to the apartment to get ready for the birthday dinner Killian had talked her into. They still hadn’t decided on a restaurant, which Emma realized would probably come to be a problem if they tried to go somewhere popular without a reservation beforehand. She wasn’t all that concerned about it though. The main thing was getting to celebrate with him, and most of her favorite restaurants in the city may not be likely to draw a huge crowd on a Thursday night.

Killian was on the couch flipping through her battered copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone when she entered the apartment. “Nice choice. But I assume you’ve read that, like, a million times being English and all,” she commented, plopping down beside him and pressing her lips to his cheek.

He was wearing a black button-down shirt and jeans. Emma found herself wondering yet again how such simple colors suited him so well. (So well to the point that she almost considered suggesting they stay home for the evening.)

“Oh, I’d say I’ve read them about half a dozen times at least. I was simply curious to see if there were any significant changes to your addition, other than the whole “sorcerer’s stone instead of philosopher’s” thing.”

“And what’s the verdict?”

“Eh, most of the fundamental aspects are the same. The only thing I’ve really noticed is a few English terms they changed for the American edition- nap instead of lie-in, elevator instead of lift. And taking the “u” out of words like “color” and “favorite”.”

Emma didn’t think she’d ever get over the way American terms sounded coming from him. She’d always had a thing for accents, and Killian’s was no different. Not that she planned on giving him the satisfaction of saying as much.

“As much as I actually want to sit and hear more about this, I’m starving. Give me a bit to get ready and I’ll be good to go.”

“Take your time, love. Any idea where you’d prefer to go yet?”

“I’m thinking Italian. There’s a place nearby that makes this really great margherita pizza I haven’t had in awhile. It’s great.”

“Sounds like a plan...as long as you’re not one of those people who likes pineapple on pizza. I may have to consider this whole relationship if that’s the case.”

“Have a little faith in me, Killian. I’m not that weird.”

“Just weird enough to nearly cook an oven mitt and confuse parsley with cilantro?”

He chuckled as she whacked his arm with a couch cushion before standing and heading to her room to get ready. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

After a quick shower, Emma changed into jeans and one of her nicer blouses. She hadn’t felt like taking the time and effort to wash her hair, so it was hastily styled into a braid that fell over her right shoulder. The only makeup she bothered with was mascara and lip gloss, taking advantage of her skin being clear that day.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she told Killian, entering the living room after she’d pulled on a pair of ankle boots and her red leather jacket.

She would have sworn his eyes lit up a bit when he looked up and saw her. Despite his constant physical and verbal affection since they’d gotten together, it still came as a surprise at times that he truly wanted her and shared her feelings. It was enough to make her feel like she could melt into a puddle right there on the living room floor.

(Or maybe not. They’d established during his last visit that making big messes in her apartment was a bad idea. The melting would have to be kept to a minimum.)

Killian set the book to the side and stood, pulling on his own leather jacket that had been draped across the coffee table. She walked over to him and he kissed her softly, taking her hand and giving it a brief squeeze. “You look stunning, Swan.”

“Thanks.” Emma ran her hand up and down his arm, the material of his jacket surprisingly soft. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I know.” He smirked and she whacked her arm playfully against his chest.

“Looks like modesty isn’t one of your biggest traits.”

He considered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps not, but I make exceptional cupcakes.”

The way his eyebrows waggled almost made Emma reconsider going out after all. But the restaurant didn’t deliver, and she wanted her damn birthday pizza. They had almost three days left to hide away in the apartment and test his cupcake making abilities.

They opted to walk to the Italian place she’d chosen. She knew better than to try looking for a parking spot downtown at that point in the evening, and there was no need to call an Uber to drive them a handful of blocks away.

Much to Emma’s relief, the restaurant wasn’t busy when they arrived, the typical after work dinner crowd already come and gone it seemed. The waiter gave them a table in the room’s front corner, a choice that both gave them a bit of privacy and allowed them to observe anything happening on the streets outside.

She didn’t hesitate to order the biggest margherita pizza on the menu. Killian had already told her earlier that’s what he wanted too, and it was her birthday. Well, technically not anymore. But that wouldn’t prevent her from acting like it was all weekend.

While they waited, Emma told him how she’d discovered the restaurant with her friends a few years earlier. “It was Mary Margaret’s bachelorette party. We’d been at the bar, but I got us kicked out when some creep tried to get handsy with Ruby and I stepped in and punched him. Yes, the owner cared more about defending the guy more than he did the fact that he’d harassed her,” she added at the disturbed look on Killian’s face. “Anyway, we were all tipsy and pissed off and hungry when we left, and somehow ended up here and ate our weight in pizza until about two in the morning.”

“It sounds as if your evening ended on a pleasant note at least. Although I hope both of those blokes got their arses handed to them later.”

“Oh, that’s the best part. The bar closed down due to bankruptcy a few months later, and not long after, I got to drag the other guy in for not showing up at his court date.”

Killian barked out a laugh. “Good riddance. You are incredible, Swan.”

He laughed again at her giddy reaction when the pizza was brought out a few minutes later, even snapping a picture on his phone when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Judge all you want.” She pulled off a slice and took a rather generous bite, savoring the taste of mozzarella and tomatoes. “You know food makes me happy,” she added, the words muffled through the pizza.

“Aye, that’s why I took the photo. I happen to quite like seeing you happy, about food or otherwise.” And he meant it. Emma had always been the type to deflect compliments or nice remarks from men, instead questioning what it was that they hoped to get from her in return. But she’d never felt the need to do that with Killian. Everything he said to her was honest and genuine, and for the first time in years, she was in a relationship where she felt truly at ease.

(Did she love him?)

“You make me happy.” It was the closest she could get to summing up her thoughts without overthinking it. Maybe she did love him, if she was being honest with herself, but that didn’t mean she needed to blurt out the words over pizza when they’d barely been dating a month.

Before she could overthink things, Emma quickly changed the subject to his job and the projects he and Liam had been working on. If she were being honest, she didn’t fully understand what the company did outside of the basic facts, but she still enjoyed listening to him talk about his responsibilities and the business deals they made. Maybe she was biased, but she knew without a doubt that Killian was great at what he did based on his knowledge of the basic mechanics of ships and the effort he put into his responsibilities. He was pretty fantastic, and yet somehow, he wanted to be with her.

(Yeah, she loved him. It was pointless to tell herself any different. She was a goner, and had been for awhile now.)

Dinner was followed by gelato from an ice cream shop down the street and a walk around the neighborhood, their fingers intertwined as Emma pointed out a few things and places she hadn’t shown him during his last visit. It occurred to her that the two of them probably looked like one of those couples from a Hallmark movie that she’d rolled her eyes at countless times before. Now, it only made her smile and give his hand an affectionate squeeze. How had she become such a romantic now?

“Have you enjoyed your evening, Swan?” Killian asked when they returned to the apartment later.

Emma kicked off her boots as soon as the door shut behind them. “Of course. Hot guy and good food, what’s not to love?”

It was hard not to laugh at the expression on his face when she made no move to pick up her shoes. She could almost see him itching to grab them up off the floor and put them in their designated place on her shoe rack. (As if she had a shoe rack. More like a shoe pile at best.) The irony of someone like her dating a neat freak was not lost on Emma. At least he was a good sport.

“I’m glad to hear that. Which reminds me, I have something in my suitcase for you.”

“You do? Why?” She dropped unceremoniously onto the couch and propped her socked feet up on the coffee table, Killian following suit.

“Honestly, love, did you really think I was coming to help celebrate your birthday without bringing you something to commemorate the occasion?”

Frankly, yes. Hadn’t he already gone to enough trouble just by taking the time off and flying out to Boston? She told him so and he shrugged. “I wouldn’t call that trouble. I wanted to see you, after all.”

“Still,” she insisted, “you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. I think you might get a kick out of it too.”

“Okay, you’ve got my attention now.”

“In that case, I might as well show you. Just a moment, love.”

Killian disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a square white box in his hands. “I hope you’ll forgive me for the lack of festive wrapping; I worried it would look worse for wear after being tucked in my suitcase.”

“Considering I don’t even try to wrap presents that aren’t Leo’s anymore, you are forgiven.”

He handed her the box after sitting back down. Emma quickly pulled off the lid and let out an excited giggle when she saw what was inside. “Is this what I think it its?”

It was a Funko Pop figure of Goose from Captain Marvel, the cat she’d mentioned her liking for during their first conversation via Facebook. Except this version had its mouth wide open with Flerken tentacles protruding from it.

“Aye. I remembered Goose being one of your favorite things about the film and couldn’t pass this up when I came across it online. Of course they have a version that makes him look like an ordinary cat, but something told me you might prefer this one for its, how would you say it, badassery?”

Emma laughed again at the sound of the word coming from his lips. “Badassery indeed. Thank you, Killian. This is great.”

“You really like it?”

“Of course I do. You’re so ridiculously thoughtful. I love you.”

It took her a moment to realize what she’d just said, the words leaving her lips without restraint. She quickly looked away from Killian, but not soon enough to see the way he stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted, clearly just as surprised.

Oh boy. She’d gone and blown it now, and just when things were going so well. Just because she’d started to accept the extent of her feelings when they were at the restaurant earlier didn’t mean she needed to turn around and tell him all of this so soon.

“I, erm,” Emma stammered, trying to hide her embarrassment. “I just meant-”

She was cut off as Killian leaned in to kiss her. This must be a good sign, she thought as his hands cupped her face softly.

“Did you mean that, Swan?” he asked when they pulled apart a moment later, his forehead resting against hers.

Emma felt the corners of her mouth turn up just the slightest bit. “Do you really think I would have said it if I didn’t?” she teased. “Yes, I meant it. Maybe it’s too soon and you’ll think I’m crazy for it, but it’s all starting to hit me now, how kind and funny and sweet and thoughtful you are, not to mention insanely hot even when you are infuriating. So yes, I love you, Killian.”

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face almost sinful. “Insanely hot, eh?”

She rolled her eyes and acted as if to pull away from him when he reached over and took her hand in his. “Bloody hell, Swan. I’ve known I loved you for longer than you’d know. Possibly even when you sent me that first Facebook message all those months ago asking how we knew each other.”

“You loved me when all you knew was that I had decent taste in movies?”

“Something like that can be a dealbreaker. What if I didn’t have high standards and found myself stuck with someone who made us watch Transformers for the rest of our lives?”

The “rest of their lives” comment didn’t go unnoticed, Emma’s pulse picking up speed ever so slightly even as she gasped dramatically. “In that case, I’m so glad I saved you from a life of Michael Bay productions.”

“And I’m immensely grateful.” He brought their still joined hands to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “In all seriousness, though, I do love you, Swan.”

It was still hard for Emma to comprehend how a simple mix up on Facebook had changed so much about their lives. “And I love you. Even more so if you hand me the remote from the end table so we can see what’s on Netflix.”

“As you wish, my love.”

Thanks to her having the rest of the weekend off, she and Killian’s agenda on Friday consisted of little besides hiding away in the apartment in front of her TV (occasionally watching whatever was on, mostly distracted by other sorts of enjoyable activities.) Saturday would have been no different had Mary Margaret not called and insisted the two of them come over for lunch.

“We haven’t done anything for your birthday yet. Plus, David and Ruby both got to meet Killian during his last visit. It’s only fair I get to this time,” her sister-in-law had insisted.

“He’s been in town for more than two days; I’m surprised you’ve waited this long to make plans with us.” Part of her had expected a request like this the minute Killian’s flight had landed.

“Well, I had every intention of trying earlier, but David was afraid we’d catch you at a bad time so soon after he arrived with you two not seeing each other in so long and everything.”

Remind me to get David two Christmas gifts this year Emma thought to herself as she and Mary Margaret finalized their plans. Although maybe she was being too hopeful. Her brother hadn’t exactly been easy on Killian the first time they’d met, and that was before their friendship had grown into something else. (She made a mental note to have Killian bring up the Orioles as much as possible.)

“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?” Emma asked him as she parked the bug outside David and Mary Margaret’s building. “I mean, I already know you’re going to say yes because of what kind of person you are, but they can be ridiculously overbearing.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Swan. I’m glad for the chance to spend time with people who mean so much to you.” He chuckled and added, “Besides, I know Liam would be the same should our roles ever be reversed.” Killian’s brother was his hero and someone he brought up often in their conversations, whether it be pertaining to their jobs or otherwise. She had no idea if going to London to visit him would be within her means any time soon, but the thought of meeting Liam and the other members of Killian’s family like he was about to meet hers made Emma smile.

“Here goes nothing,” Emma said once they’d exited the car. “Remember-”

“I know, Swan. Heavy on the baseball talk, light on the innuendoes.”

“Bingo.”

Much to her relief, the afternoon went over well. Mary Margaret adored Killian right off of the bat, and Leo was so insistent on keeping his attention that neither she nor David managed to get a chance to interrogate him or make comments that could send him running back across the pond.

“I gotta say, he seems to be a decent guy.” Emma and David were in the kitchen washing dishes after lunch while Leo performed whatever he’d learned in gymnastics that week for Killian and Mary Margaret. Thankfully, he spent enough time with his own nieces and nephew that the four-year-old’s antics didn’t seem to phase him.

“He’s great. And thanks for not going too Protective Big Brother on him again today.”

He was silent for a moment, lost in thought as he scrubbed at a plate and passed it to her to be rinsed and dried. “Admittedly, I think I did enough of that the last time. Plus, Mary Margaret made me promise to be easy on him.”

“Good for her.” Emma glanced over her shoulder and saw her sister-in-law laughing at whatever Killian had just said to charm her. “I think she loves him about as much as I do.”

She saw David raise an eyebrow out of the corner of her eye. “So it’s really serious then? You love him?”

“I do. I know it’s crazy with how we met and things are still new and we’re still figuring out how this is gonna work with an ocean between us. But, yeah. I love him.”

“In that case, I’m happy for you, Emma. I really am.” She knew he’d be wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her forehead were both of his hands not submerged in dish water. “But if he ever hurts you-”

“I know, you’ll make him swim back to London.”

“Darn right.”

The last part of their weekend flew by as quickly as the first, much to both of their chagrin. “I swear it feels like I just picked you up from the airport,” Emma murmured against his shoulder when they woke up on Sunday morning.

“I was just thinking the same. What’s that they say, time flies when you’re having fun and all?”

“Mhm,” she sighed. “Something like that.”

“I’m so glad I got to come see you again, though. Especially without work and meetings taking up so much of my time.”

“And you came out of family lunch unscathed too,” she pointed out. “I think Mary Margaret intentionally kept you preoccupied with her and Leo so David wouldn’t have a chance to do any interrogating.”

“I would have sat through an interrogation regardless just for that apple pie.”

“It is pretty incredible,” she agreed. “Don’t tell Mary Margaret, but I think David would have married her for that alone.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult to believe.”

With Killian’s flight being earlier in the afternoon, they didn’t have as much time to themselves left as both of them would have preferred. After grabbing breakfast (or brunch realistically at that point) at a cafe near the airport, Emma found herself telling him goodbye in the parking lot again.

“You’ll shoot me a message when you land?” she asked when Killian had retrieved his things from the back of her car.

“Aye. Perhaps we’ll have a chance to talk sometime tonight if my estimated arrival time doesn’t change.”

Emma nodded. “I’d like that. But if it’s late, go on to bed when you get home. You know your sleep schedule is going to be more discombobulated than it already is for the next few days.”

“Worth it.” Killian flashed her a smile and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m not exactly sure when I’ll be able to visit again. The holidays always complicate things at work a bit, and it won’t be long before Liam and Belle begin informing me of all the events and family gatherings I’m expected to attend.

“Of course. It wouldn’t be Christmas without Uncle Killy.” She pulled back and snickered at the exasperated look on his face. He’d mentioned in a previous conversation that Liam called him that from time to time and he hated it.

“For the last time, Swan, they do not call me that.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t take an opportunity to tease you about it.” Emma stood up on her toes to kiss him softly. “We’ll figure something out though, okay? Maybe bail bonds will be good to me soon and I can afford to come across the pond for a few days. I’ve always wanted to see cars drive on the other side of the road.”

“How very American of you.”

“Maybe so. But you love me for it.”

“I do.”

Thanks to Killian’s flight proceeding as scheduled, Emma found herself on the phone with him later that night. Spider-Man: Homecoming played on both of their respective TV screens while she gave him her unofficial lecture detailing why Tom Holland was the best actor to date that the franchise had cast in the title role.

“I mean, look at it this way: Tobey MaGuire was a fine Peter Parker. He had the acting skills to play the nerdy kid who was just struggling to get through high school, but he just didn’t have that level of confidence you need to play a superhero. Then you have Andrew Garfield, who was the complete opposite. Sure, he’s got the wit and the confidence to be Spider-Man, but his Peter comes off too much like one of the cool kids. And as much as I love him, Peter Parker is not considered all that cool. He wouldn’t be bullied constantly if that were the case.”

“And Tom Holland manages to find a happy medium between the two,” Killian finished.

“Exactly!”

She heard him chuckling through the phone. “I’m glad we agree on this, love. Otherwise, I worry you may disown me.”

“Eh, I’m not sure I would go to that extreme. But it would put an awkward strain on things considering the MCU is pretty much a third party in this relationship.”

She and Killian did sort of owe the franchise for being the reason they met. Sure, Emma probably would have noticed him on her Facebook page sooner or later and reached out to inquire about who he was, but their first interaction stemming from Captain Marvel was special to her. It didn’t hurt that she now had Goose in Flerken-mode sitting on the shelf above her TV to remind her of him.

Not only was she turning into a romantic, he’d gone and made her all sentimental now too.

Over the next handful of weeks, they tried to keep up the same routine they’d had before of regular calls, texts, or FaceTimes. But, just as he’d predicted, Killian’s obligations and responsibilities both in and out of the office began to increase as they got further into November.

To her surprise, so did Emma’s. She rarely struggled to find work in bail bonds (no matter what happened, there was always someone evading the law.) But while crime rates usually tended to remain the same if not decrease during the colder months, the list of skips on her radar had grown considerably. The added work wasn’t a problem since she could use the money it brought in, but the change in pace on both sides, not to mention the time difference, meant planned phone calls and FaceTime dates were often missed for one reason or another.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, it had been almost a week since they’d had a legitimate conversation outside of brief texts sent whenever they had a moment to themselves. Of course problems like these could only be expected with an ocean and a five hour difference between them, but Emma hadn’t been prepared to face them so early in their relationship.

The whole thing was on her mind when she and her girl friends had their own version of Friendsgiving at David and Mary Margaret’s place the night before the actual holiday. They’d ordered Chinese takeout and were eating in the living room, Mean Girls quickly forgotten while they updated each other on their lives.

“What about you, Ems?” Ruby asked when Elsa had finished sharing the details of her upcoming trip to Norway. “I know there’s gotta be something to share about that British hunk of yours.” She shot Emma a wolfish grin. Of course this would be Ruby’s first question; she’d been asking for regular updates on Killian since the day she ran into he and Emma at Granny’s.

Emma shrugged. “There’s not much to share lately. One of us is always busy when the other’s not, so we haven’t really talked or anything nearly as much as we would have liked to over the past few weeks.”

“Will you get to see him for Christmas or New Years?” Elsa asked, a kind smile on her face. While Emma loved both Ruby and Mary Margaret, she appreciated knowing Elsa was asking because she genuinely cared, not because she wanted all the juicy details on her love life.

“Probably not. Even with me taking on extra work, a ticket to London is still kind of out of my budget, and Killian will have work stuff and plans with his brother’s family.” She failed to include that Killian had hinted around at opting out of his plans so he could visit, but she’d shut that idea down right away. The idea of taking him away from his family at the holidays seemed selfish, even if he’d been the one to make the suggestion.

“I’m sure everyone in a long distance relationship has these kind of issues from time to time,” offered Mary Margaret. “Hopefully things will slow down again after the first of the year and you two can go back to normal.”

Emma decided not to tell her sister-in-law just how far off the first of the year felt. There wasn’t a chance, though, since her phone began to vibrate where she’d left it on the coffee table. She knew before looking at the caller ID from WhatsApp that it was Killian.

She swore under her breath. Either she hadn’t mentioned her plans tonight to Killian, or it had slipped his mind. “Great timing. Sorry, guys. I’ll tell him it has to wait.”

“No!” all three of her friends exclaimed in unison.

“Friendsgiving be damned. You see us all the time, Emma,” said Ruby. “Now take the chance to talk to your boyfriend while you’ve got it.”

She drove a hard bargain.

Emma stood from the couch and slipped into David and Mary Margaret’s kitchen. She tapped the answer icon and brought the phone to her ear. “Hey, Killian.”

“Hello, Swan.” He sounded tired. If she could see him, Emma knew he’d be rubbing his eyes while trying to hold back a yawn. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m with the girls, but they can survive without me for a bit.”

“Oh, bloody hell. You did say something about having plans tonight, didn’t you? I’m sorry, love.”

“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal.”

Killian sighed. She almost wished she had told him she was at home instead just so he wouldn’t feel guilty about calling when he did. “I still feel like a prat for interrupting. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back to your friends? I can always try again for tomorrow night.”

“Killian, don’t beat yourself up about it. I love my friends, but in the words of Ruby, I see them all the time. I’m gonna take advantage of time to talk to you while we can.”

“Aye, well, as long as you don’t feel I’m intruding.”

Emma had always appreciated how considerate he was, but sometimes he could be so polite it was almost infuriating. “You are most definitely not intruding. I’ve missed you. Now tell me about your day- is that new guy with the bad attitude still driving everyone up the wall?”

Taking a seat at David and Mary Margaret’s kitchen table, she sat and listened for the next fifteen or so minutes to his recap of everything he hadn’t gotten the chance to fill her in on yet. Of course it was just a typical work week for him, with no one on his end taking time off for Thanksgiving and Black Friday. She pointed out as much to Killian.

“Ah, that’s right,” he commented. “I presume you have plans with David and Mary Margaret tomorrow?”

“I’m just having brunch with the two of them and Leo. They invited me to dinner with Mary Margaret’s family, but I always feel like I’m imposing whenever I go to something of theirs. That-” she paused and turned to make sure her sister-in-law was preoccupied in conversation before continuing “-and her stepmom kind of freaks me out. You’d think she was the queen or something by the way she talks to people.”

“I suppose it’s best you to keep your distance then, although I wish you didn’t have to spend the rest of the holiday alone. Perhaps I can plan to finish up a bit early at the office and we can watch something together? Or, well, sort of together. Something like that.”

Emma nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” It wasn’t what she really wanted- to see him and have them there with her again- but some things they’d have to make do with for now.

It felt as if the first three weeks of December had come and gone in a heartbeat. A thick blanket of snow covered Boston, as did the myriad of lights and decorations in various shades of red and green. Five days before Christmas, Emma found herself in a corner booth at Granny’s drinking eggnog, surrounded by everyone in their friend group and then some. Ruby had somehow gotten permission to close the diner early for their annual party rather than attempt to crowd into someone’s apartment for a few hours.

The night had been a success so far. Almost everyone Ruby invited had come, and there was more than enough food and alcohol to go around. (Not to mention the entertainment of impromptu Christmas karaoke that was a result of said alcohol.)

Emma enjoyed spending time with her closest friends and reconnecting with ones she hadn’t seen in awhile. One thing she couldn’t help but notice, however, was the amount of couples in the room.

There was David and Mary Margaret, of course, who only had eyes for each other more often than not. Anna and Kristoff were in town for the holidays and had come, and were busy chatting with Graham and his boyfriend, August. (It turned out he was the bartender Graham had been so infatuated with the night she met Killiam James.) Ruby’s on again, off again relationship with Dorothy was clearly on considering the two were not so subtly making out in the restaurant’s back room.

The only other person who seemed to be flying solo was Elsa. She walked over from the bar and took a seat across from Emma, who was now alone in the booth as David and Mary Margaret were (badly) serenading “White Christmas” to each other by the jukebox.

“I’d forgotten what alcohol does to them,” she told Elsa. While she loved her brother and sister-in-law, their duet was a far cry from Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney.

Elsa giggled. “Tell me about it. And Mary Margaret’s going to have the worst hangover tomorrow; they’re both such lightweights.” She turned back to Emma. “I’m more concerned about you looking so lonely over here by yourself though.”

“I’m not lonely,” Emma protested. “I’m just…” she trailed off, not wanting to voice what was really on her mind.

“Missing Killian? I thought so.”

Leave it to Elsa to be so perceptive. She somehow always knew what Emma was thinking about. “I know it’s silly. I mean, I just talked to him earlier and we haven’t been together long enough to where it feels like I should be moping about not spending a holiday with him. But yeah, I miss him a lot.”

“And I doubt the amount of couples in the room does much to help.”

“Oh, good. So I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

“Definitely not,” Elsa assured her. “And your feelings aren’t silly. Sure, maybe you haven’t been together as long as couples like David and Mary Margaret or Anna and Kris, but you two had been close for months before you started dating. There’s no timeline your relationship has to follow either. Some couples are engaged after a month, and others wait years before deciding to take the next step. Relationships can be so different for everyone.”

Emma just nodded. Her friend had made too many good points for her to object. “And by different, you mean some people can accidentally meet on Facebook and bond over superheroes.”

Elsa flashed her a grin. “Exactly.”

“I know everything you said is true. I just can’t help but wonder how long this arrangement is going to work out. He’ll only have so many opportunities to come here, and even with me trying to save and cut back when I can, it could be months before I can afford to visit him.” She had considered trying to fly out for his birthday in the spring, but the cost of living in Boston plus a number of repairs to her car were making that idea seem less and less likely.

Her friend was quiet for a moment. “Or we could send you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“David will hate me for telling you this, but we were going to go in together to cover the repairs on the bug since we figured you would appreciate that than something to unwrap. But I have a feeling you’d appreciate getting to spend Christmas with your boyfriend even more.”

Elsa couldn’t be serious. Could she? “That is incredibly sweet of you to offer, but I can’t let you do that. Even if you did go in together, a plane ticket still wouldn’t be cheap, and I’m not sure Killian’s family wants me crashing their holiday plans without notice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elsa objected. “If they have any sense, they’ll be thrilled that Killian has you there to celebrate with him. Give me two minutes to see what we can work out.” She was out of the booth and running over to David and Mary Margaret before Emma had a chance to react.

The idea was unexpected, and even a bit ridiculous if she were being honest.

And yet, the morning before Christmas Eve, Emma found herself being dropped off at the airport by David, just as she’d done for Killian twice now. She’d managed to keep her last minute visit a surprise from him so far. Mary Margaret had somehow gotten in touch via Facebook with Belle, who would be picking her up when she arrived in London.

“I gotta say, I’m surprised you were so willing to agree with Elsa’s idea,” she told her brother as his car pulled into the parking deck.

David shrugged. “The alcohol helped,” he admitted. “Plus, I knew how much getting to do this would mean to you. And to Killian. As much as it would have pained me to admit it at one point, you two are good for each other.”

She leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you think so. Although I’m never gonna be able to make it up to you guys.”

“Don’t worry about making anything up. I wouldn’t mind an autograph from the queen though.”

Emma barked out a laugh. “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that.”

#cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs mc #cs fluff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #meredith writes

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