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#and the young doctor who was on call at the hospital on fucking christmas eve was actually the most empathetic and helpful one
quelsentiment · 3 months
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awyeahitssam · 2 months
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Stiles figures out the whole werewolf thing when he’s nine years old, and never mentions it.
Not when he’s eleven and his dad is stressing over mountain lion manslaughter, when he’s fifteen and his best friend ditches him for the Hale brood, or when he’s seventeen and Cora punctures his tires with claws after he beats her out for first place in a countywide Young Writers competition.
If the Hale’s want to kill supernaturals invading their territory, that’s their right. If Scott wants to pretend they weren’t once brothers to each other just because he’s no longer dangerously asthmatic or socially stunted, Stiles can accept that too. And if Cora wants to take out her petty frustrations on Claudia Stilinski’s jeep - well, fuck yes will he get his vengeance but he’s certainly not going to blackmail her just because she’s stupid enough to pop claws in broad daylight. 
(Instead Stiles threatened to leak photos of Cora making out with her twin’s ex-girlfriend in the bathroom of the local diner - time stamped before they broke up. It was enough to make her personally change and finance his baby’s tires, plus teach the stunted bitch a lesson on messing with Stiles.
It may also help the girls' dismal attempts at subterfuge.
He doubted it, though.) 
For all that people go on about Stiles not being able to keep his smart mouth shut, he’s very good at saying nothing of substance.
In the end Stiles moved away for college without anybody discovering he knew all about Beacon Hill's supernatural secret. 
(He warded the Sheriff’s house to kingdom come. It was subtle enough that the local pack wouldn’t notice, but if anything looking to hurt his dad came bumping through the night they would sooner be burned to ash than touch a hair on the Sheriff’s oblivious human head.) 
Stiles gets the call on Christmas Eve. 
Parrish - the only Deputy he doesn’t have a file full of blackmail on - tells him his father is in the hospital and might not make it. He says he hasn’t been shot when asked, but stays vague when Stiles demands to know what happened even as he throws together a bag and sends an all-caps text to Jocelyn, a study partner who works at the airport and will be able to get him on the soonest available flight to San Francisco. 
Stiles emotionally manipulates and cajoles and blackmails, and still gets nothing more than vague replies from Jordan. Clark, Whittings and Jones don’t answer their phones.
When Stiles gets to Beacon Hills heads are going to roll.
- Stiles pulls into Beacon Memorial at three in the morning Christmas day, parks in the first spot he sees (because fuck reserved parking) and hightails it towards the nurse’s station.
“Get me the status of the Sheriff,” he orders a vaguely familiar nurse, who doesn’t even bat a lash at his brisk tone. The hospital staff is almost as familiar as the police force; they helped raise him when his mother couldn’t, and even after, when he hung around after school with Scott. 
Beacon Hills residents acknowledged that Stiles Stilinski didn’t mess around about his father's health. 
(When Stiles was fourteen the Sheriff got shot in the gut. The condescending prick of a doctor who refused to give ‘a child’ information on his father was fired, ruined, and run out of town within the month.)
“He was found with a head wound but it’s stopped bleeding, and I know his vitals have stabilized,” she says, first off. “You’ll have to ask his doctor for more information, hon. Room 317.”
Stiles doesn’t relax, can’t until he sees his father is perfectly alright for himself, but he nods and tries for a smile. It strains across his face and drops within a few seconds, so he turns and makes for the ICU. 
“And Stiles?” calls the nurse. “He has visitors.” 
It turns out ‘visitors’ means that there are three Hale’s, an Argent, and an ex-best friend hanging outside the Sheriff’s room. Stiles feels well on his way to bashing in a couple of faces, especially when Scott looks up at him like he’s an injured puppy and says, empathetic, “Stiles.” 
See, this is why it took some convincing to get Stiles to accept his full-ride to NYU. Stiles just fucking knew that his dad would get drawn into supernatural shit while he was gone, and he had been stupid enough to believe that the Deputy’s would actually do as ordered and keep him updated on more than just his father’s eating habits.
Oh, he would be having words with Robins. 
Out of the assembled Hale’s - Talia, Laura, and Peter - two look long-suffering and one is arranging their face into something resembling sorry. Chris Argent is showing no emotion but the way he watches Stiles is careful, almost wary. And Scott just looks plain guilty, which isn’t a good sign for his continued health because Stiles has killed to keep his dad safe before and he would damn sure do it again.
(Maybe he’ll kill them all, if the Sheriff dies.)
Stiles drops the calm facade that he’s been clutching at for the past twelve goddamned hours, takes a step forward, and stares down the local Alpha.
“What are you doing here?” he demands. It’s inconspicuous enough, something an oblivious human would ask when apparent strangers were crowding the waiting area. 
“Stiles, isn’t it?” Talia asks, standing to meet his height and reaching out for a handshake. He doesn’t spare the limb a glance, narrowed eyes demanding answers. “We were assisting your father on a case when he was injured. We’re here to make sure he’s alright.”
Stiles modulates his scent, his heartbeat, his rage. His eyes turn to Scott and a sneer pulls at his mouth. “You too, Scotty? Were you helping my father on a case?” 
Scott McCall is a terrible liar and everybody knows it.
His throat bobs, his eyes dart to Talia, and then to Chris, and then back to Stiles, who is considering punching his lights out.
Peter Hale is Talia’s enforcer. Laura Hale is set to inherit the mantle of Alpha. Chris Argent is the local hunter. They all have a reason to be here, to be involved, but Scott - Scott is just a beta, which means Scott is probably what pulled the Sheriff into this mess. Why else would a low ranking, bitten wolf be here? 
“I, uh. Yeah, I was. Y’know. Helping. There were animals involved, and I’m studying to be a vet, so, aha, he - he was going to ask Deaton, but he’s… out of town. So your dad ended up consulting me instead?”
Yes. Truly terrible.
“I see. So instead of using a qualified veterinary technician, my dad decided to ask a first year from BH’s community college, who likely hasn’t completed his introductory courses. That makes so much sense. Your logic is so very sound. Ten out of ten.”
Stiles skin itched. He was getting impatient.
He was getting angry.
Stiles turned his back on the small crowd, pushing into the Sheriff’s room without mind to the sputtering Scott. The doctor wasn’t there so he grabbed the chart from the end of the bed, scanning it quickly, adding it to what he already knew. 
His dad had no physical wounds. He had been found unconscious in the parking lot of the police station. He wouldn’t wake up. 
Something supernatural was going on here, and no amount of human medicine would help, period. 
Stiles laid the chart back down and pulled out his cellphone, typing out a quick text, before giving his dad’s hand a lingering squeeze and exiting the room.
Everyone was watching him with sharp eyes, except Scott who was scowling at the ground. It seemed unimpressive and childish on his twenty year old face.
“Argent,” Stiles says, zoning in on Chris. He’s never liked Talia, never appreciated all she let her children get away with and the obviousness of her pack. Chris, however, he had extensively researched. He was a hunter coming into Stiles’ town, but unlike the werewolves he was discreet. Smart. “What are you hunting?”
Chris’ brow creases at his phrasing, but he didn’t acknowledge it as anything odd. “I don’t know much about who did this. He was found unconscious in the parking lot at the police station, and the doctors are still running tests to determine the cause of his condition.”
“Tests that won’t find anything,” Stiles says back, as calmly as he can when it feels like he’s about to shake out of his skin. “Most shifters would have left some kind of outward marking, and there’s no sense of magic around him so I doubt it was a Druid or Wiccan. I’m assuming you all know, so tell me. What. Was. It.” 
“Stiles, you know—”
Talia interrupts Scott. Just as well, because Stiles feels like hitting something the longer they stall. “Just what do you know about all this, Stiles?”
“Your family has never been the most subtle, I figured out about the supernatural when I was nine. My dad, however, wasn’t wrapped up in any of this until I left for college — presumably, he only got involved in the past few months, since his deputy’s haven’t informed me that he suddenly started hanging around Argent, Deaton, or you Hale’s.”
Talia opened her mouth again, and Stiles held up a finger. “Stop. I don’t have time to deal with your insipid questions. Just tell me what we are dealing with. Now.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Stiles slanted his eyes to the hunter. 
“I’ve been hunting a rogue fae,” Argent said. “Several people in town have fallen comatose, including one of your father’s officers.”
“Fae. Of fucking course, it always has to be fae. What kind?” 
Argent looked at him blankly.
“Come on. Was it seelie or unseelie? An elemental? Changeling? Elf?" Argent's forehead creased. "For chrissakes, did it even originate in this country, or do I have to brush up on my Welsh?”
A throat cleared behind him, and Stiles spun to face the enforcer. “Sweetheart, Christopher has no clue what you’re talking about. I doubt the Argent bestiary takes time to classify the fae beyond methods for killing them.”
“But you don’t even kill them all the same way! It’s—” Stiles groaned in frustration, running a hand over his face. “Forget it. Did anybody get a good look at it? Scott?” 
Scott jolted, mouth snapping shut. “Uh, why do you think I—?”
“Because you’re here, so either you’ve seen it or you dragged my dad into this shitshow. Which one?” Scott shifted.
“Both,” Peter chimed in unhelpfully. Stiles considered wringing his neck, but he was the only one providing any actual information.
“Okay. Okay, we’ll deal with that later. Was it male or female?”
Scott didn’t say anything, glancing towards Talia again.
“Scott, answer my goddamn questions! This is my dad we’re talking about!”
Scott winced back at his decibel, jerking his eyes from Talia to the floor. He looked guilty, as well he should. “A-a girl.”
“Tall or short? What did her skin look like?”
“Uh, tall. Like, taller than you. She was grey, and her eyes—they were completely black.”
Stiles' magic spiked, sparking out of his fingers unhelpfully. Stiles clenched his hands shut and ignored it. “Were there any markings on her forehead?”
“Yeah, there were, like, purple swirls—”
Stiles cursed. Explicitly. 
Talia looked scandalized.
“How long has it been since dad? When was he found?” 
“Eleven hours ago. Parrish called you almost immediately.”
“At least one of the deputy’s are being a good boy,” Stiles murmured thoughtlessly, pacing now. “How long has she been waiting between victims?”
“There have been two a day for the last week.” Peter offered.
Stiles frowned, stilling. “That doesn’t make sense. She shouldn’t have such an appetite, unless…”
“Unless what?” Peter prodded.
“Unless she’s pregnant,” Stiles whispered. He sounded like he was about to faint, and looked little better. “Oh god, a pregnant Aatmanand. I’m surprised this town is still standing.”
He pulled out his phone, flipping through his contacts and trying to ignore the way his hand was trembling.
She picked up on the second ring.
“What is it, Stiles? I’m trying to study.”
“I need your help.”
The person on the other line’s breath hitched, before coming back, smooth as silk. “Are you calling in your favor, Spark?”
“Yes.”
“Can I come to you?”
Stiles glanced at the camera in the room and short circuited it with a spark of energy. Someone gasped. 
“Yes.”
In a flash of light, Adelaide appeared. She was still in her human form except for her gleaming quicksilver eyes, blonde hair tumbling down her back in unruly waves, wearing a monochromatic polka dot pajama set. She took in her audience briefly before turning to Stiles, eyebrow cocking.
“What will you have me do?”
“I have an Aatmanad problem.”
Adelaide took a step towards him, nails sharpening to a point. Her smile was all pointed teeth. “You know I hate those uptight prigs. Just point me in the direction, little Spark.” 
“You can’t kill her,” Stiles ground out, fingers clenching. Adelaide’s nostrils flared, eyes dilating with rage. Stiles held up a hand to stall her protests. “She’s pregnant.” 
“Excuse me? I will not meddle with the Expecting, even for you!” Adelaide hissed.
“I’m not asking you to,” Stiles said impatiently. “I can track her down without you. I just need you to release the knots she weaved about one of the victim’s souls, and drain her leftover magic into a rune.”
Adelaide’s expression twisted again, this time in amusement. “You think much of my abilities. My kind has never been known for this capability.”
“Your kind has never been known for a lot of things,” Stiles returned. That earned him a laugh, quick and dark.
“Very good, Spark. If I do you this favor, my debt is repaid.”
“Agreed.”
“Wait a minute.” Stiles turned to Talia, eyes narrowed. 
“We may not have a minute,” he said coolly. “They die at the twelve hour mark, don’t they? Otherwise Parrish wouldn’t have bothered to say his condition was life threatening. That’s how long it takes her to properly establish her hold and drain them.”
Talia frowned. “You may know something about the supernatural, but this is my land. You cannot summon creatures here without my permission.”
Stiles stared at her. Behind him, Adelaide laughed. 
“What a stupid little wolf,” she smiled. “I can kill her for free, Spark. Alpha’s have the most exquisite aftertaste.”
Peter stood, taking his place behind Talia’s left shoulder. His face was cleared of the previous smirk, eyes hard and calculating. 
“Go fulfill our deal. If I need to kill anybody, I’ll do it myself.”
“You’re no fun,” Adelaide sighed. “I need the rune first.”
Stiles gave her a look, but she just grinned back. Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing the Sheriff’s badge from his pocket to obscure the transportation spell from curious eyes. 
He held out his hand expectantly, and Adelaide grinned at him, snatching his wrist and gouging into his index finger with a claw. Somebody growled, low and threatening. 
Stiles didn’t wince, just cleared his throat until she dropped his appendage with a pout. 
He drew the anchor rune quickly, all too aware of the eyes in him, and gave her the badge. 
“Remember what I told you when we met,” he warned, when she turned to the room. Adelaide stiffened, glancing over her shoulder at him, and nodded. 
“I would not go against a Spark.”
Stiles turned back to the red eyed Talia. “I don’t fall under your laws,” he said, eyes half-lidded. “As your enforcer could tell you. And even if I did, that is my father. I would tear apart worlds to keep him safe.”
Talia frowned, glancing at her brother. “Peter?”
“He is a Spark, Talia. The Councils combined don’t have enough power to put a leash on his kind.”
“He can’t be,” Laura said, standing to meet her pack. “We would have noticed anything that powerful growing up here. He went to school with Cora, Mia and Scott.”
“‘He’ is right here,” Stiles said drolly. “And consequently doesn’t care what you think.”
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suituuup · 3 years
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for the christmas prompts, can you do “you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas". Thank you :)
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
rating: T
word count: 1,4k
ao3 link
*
Like a morning out of two, Beca wakes up to the steady beeping of her son’s heartbeat. She slowly sits up, wincing as she braces a hand over the painful twitch in her lower back from sleeping on that uncomfortable cot.
Her eyes fall on her sleeping son, so small and vulnerable in that large hospital bed. She pushes to her feet and leans over the railing, brushing her fingers through his auburn hair as she bends down to press a kiss to Dylan’s forehead.
The last year and a half has been an emotional whirlwind.
Dylan was diagnosed with Hodgkin Lymphoma right after his sixth birthday, and their whole world shifted on its axis. Chloe stopped teaching so she could take him to chemo and numerous doctor check-ups and Beca asked to only work part-time at the studio so she could spend more time with her family. Six months after the diagnosis, Dylan was in remission. Their happiness and relief were short-lived however, when signs of the illness showed up four months ago. The cancer was back. From LA, they moved to Philadelphia, where a doctor specialized in Hodgkin Lymphoma and Proton therapy.
Dylan’s body hasn’t been responding well to that type of treatment, and his body continued to shut down. He was admitted three weeks ago. The nurses and doctors on the peds ward are kind enough to let one parent stay over every night, so she and Chloe have been alternating night shifts at the hospital.
“Morning.” Beca’s pulled away from her thoughts by her wife’s voice. Chloe is standing in the doorway, two to-go cups balanced on one hand and a paper bag dangling from the other. The one who sleeps at home usually brings coffee and breakfast on the way in, as the hospital coffee tastes terrible. “How’s he doing?”
“Still asleep. Didn’t wake up through the night,” Beca says as Chloe steps further in, setting the items on the tray by Dylan’s bed before kissing Beca hello. Beca leans against her, releasing a sigh as she wraps an arm around her waist. Her eyes fall on the tote bag full of Christmas stuff set by the door. “What’s that?”
“I thought we should decorate, give this room a little holiday feeling.”
Beca smiles. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Once Dylan wakes up and the morning rounds are done, Beca and Chloe work around the room to hang the tinsels and Christmas lights, Christmas music playing through their portable speaker.
“What do you think, dude?” Beca asks when they’re done, lowering herself next to him and wrapping an arm around the seven-year-old’s shoulders as she takes in the newly-decorated room. “Did we do a good job?”
Dylan nods, a toothy grin spreading across his features. “Looks awesome.”
“I think so, too.” Beca presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I have to head to work, but I’ll be back for dinner, okay?”
“K.”
“Don’t destroy Mama at Mario Kart, alright?” She whispers, though she knows Chloe can hear her as she hangs the wreath on the door. “Let her win a couple times, at least.”
Dylan giggles while Chloe casts her a playful glare. Beca chuckles and pushes to her feet, brushing a quick kiss to Chloe’s lips on her way out. “See you later.”
It’s hard for her to truly focus at work when she knows her phone could go off any second if Dylan’s state suddenly worsens. She does her best to be present, but is immensely grateful when her boss assures her they’ll be fine if she leaves an hour early.
Like every night, they watch a movie or cartoon of Dylan’s choice while eating take-out, and read him a bedtime story before one of them has to leave.
“I love you,” Beca murmurs as she tucks the covers tighter around Dylan’s body. Leaving him at night is always the hardest, but they can’t both stay here.
“I love you too, Mommy.”
Chloe follows her out into the hall, where they have their only private moment of the day.
“I hate this,” Chloe whispers into their embrace. “I hate that one of us has to leave.”
“I know. Me too,” Beca mutters, her palm rubbing soothing circles over Chloe’s back as she soaks in her wife’s warmth. “I’ll be back early tomorrow morning.”
“You should get some more sleep,” Chloe says as she pulls away, cradling Beca’s cheek gently. “You’re exhausted, baby.”
Beca inhales sharply, cursing under her breath when a few tears escape the corners of her eyes. She can’t contradict Chloe; balancing work with their situation is exhausting, but they can’t afford to both be on leave. Bills still need to be paid, even when their son is extremely sick. “I’m terrified to miss your call if something happens.”
“You won’t,” Chloe murmurs. She catches the tear drops with the pad of her thumb and presses a lingering kiss to Beca’s forehead. They’re each other’s rocks. One is always there to anchor the other on tough days. “And he seems okay tonight.”
Beca nods. “I know. I just-- I can’t stop thinking of how unfair it all is. He doesn’t deserve any of this, Chlo.”
Chloe doesn’t say anything, probably because there’s nothing to be said. She hugs Beca a bit tighter, and they remain that way for long minutes, wordlessly giving each other as much comfort as they can despite the circumstances.
“I love you so much,” Beca whispers when she eventually lets go of her wife, taking Chloe’s hand and brushing a kiss to her knuckles.
“I love you, too. Send me a text when you’re home?”
“I will.”
The amazing team of nurses at Philly’s Children Hospital turn the pediatric ward into a Christmas Wonderland over the next few days. Service dogs come hang out with the young patients and Santa even visits to give out presents on Christmas Eve day.
It gets even better when Dylan’s favorite nurse swings by towards the end of the day to tell them that, since it’s Christmas Eve, they’re both allowed to spend the night at the hospital. Dylan gets to stay up an hour longer, facetiming with Chloe’s parents who are back on the west coast. Once he’s asleep, Beca sneaks in his presents and lies them in front of the tiny plastic Christmas tree they managed to tuck in the corner of the room.
She slides under the covers next to her wife a few minutes later, puffing out a content sigh. It’s the first time in a month that they get to sleep in the same bed, and Beca’s missed it more than she realized.
“He had a good time tonight,” Chloe whispers as Beca absentmindedly strokes her forearm while they cuddle on the twin sized cot.
“Yeah, I think so. Tomorrow is going to be even better. I’ll go get donuts and hot chocolates across the street before he wakes up.”
“Good idea.” Chloe smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “I wish we could get him a puppy.”
It was the plan up until Dylan was admitted. But the pet wouldn’t be able to stay in the hospital, and it would spend most of the days on its own in their empty house.
“Next year,” Beca says softly. Her heart physically hurts, because she knows another year is not guaranteed, but she can’t afford to let go of her hopes, or else she'll crumble. “We’ll get him one next year.”
Chloe nods, blinking back tears. “Okay.”
They wake Dylan up with a kisses and tickle attack in the morning, his giggles warming Beca's mind and soul.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” Chloe murmurs, letting up on the tickling as she kisses Dylan’s cheek. “Looks like Santa came by last night.”
Dylan gasps as he follows his Mama’s gaze to the tree surrounded by presents.
Beca pushes to her feet to get a couple, setting them on Dylan’s lap. They maybe went a little overboard with gifts, and some parents would probably call him spoiled, but after all he’s been through, Beca doesn’t give a flying fuck.
They play with his new toys for the rest of the day, and if Beca closes her eyes and shuts out the hospital sounds for a minute, focusing on her son's laughter, it almost seems like he's not sick.
It almost seems like things might be okay.
For a minute.
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Ill be home for christmas w/ sobieski!!!
A/n: Soft boi....man he deserves all the love and I’ll never be over to what happened to him.
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"I promise beautiful, I’ll be home for Christmas...” Sighing, he never liked it when you got upset with him.He could never blame you for how worried you were. He already missed Thanksgiving, not to mention the twin’s birthday the only thing he knew was that he was going to be home for Christmas. He wanted to give you the real reason why he wasn’t home sooner but he was quickly shot down by Decker.
‘Are you an idiot? Are you seriously going to tell your wife that you were nearly killed?”
Snorting, he ran his finger over the scar that was now across his cheek. One of the few scars that he was not proud of. His healing factor took a while to kick in, not to mention that the Doctors did their best to attach his skin back on his face. He was one of the lucky ones...the only one that made it out alive. Something that he was going to have to live with. And while he hated lying to you, telling you that he had another tour was better than letting you and his young kids know that he was laying in a hospital bed trying to walk again.
Rubbing the back on his neck Sobieski drummed his fingers on his knee waiting for his flight to get called. He should arrive late on Christmas Eve,perfect timing....maybe he’ll even get to have some fun time with you. Hearing his flight being called,he quickly jumped to his feet practically running to the gate.
Oh, he really couldn’t wait to see you and the twins.
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Cold...you were freezing.The fire place may haven been going and while the twins were sleeping soundly on the couch you still felt cold. The house was different when John was gone. You missed the warmth he gave off, his smile or the jokes he made...you just missed him and you knew the twins missed him just as much. Sighing you curled into the cook, your gaze lingering on the Christmas Tree. “You should be here for this.”
Closing your eyes you could feel your eyes getting heavy, it was hard to stay awake.Just as you were about to fall asleep, you quickly sat up once you heard a knocking on the door. “Asshole..who the fuck.” Gritting your teeth you had to make sure to stay quiet when you passed your twins that were sleeping on the large couch. Walking towards the door you peered out the peephole, noticing the the person was hiding your head you could feel irritation grow. Not thinking you opened the door,a scowl forming on your face. “Hey asshole! do you mind?! It’s 12 in the morning and my kids are trying to sleep....plus Christmas is-”
“Whoa babe! you don’t gotta bite my head off. Just thought I might surprise you is all.”
Standing in front of you, was your husband. John Sobieski, giving you that smile you loved so much. Though the Santa suit and the jagged scar across his cheek was new. Blinking back your years you stepped closer to him before you embraced him. Your arms wrapping tightly around his neck afraid that this might be some dream. “You...you’re home.”
Chuckling, John sighed as he nuzzled his nose into your neck. He missed the way you smelt. “And well...I’ll be home for good.” Giving you a smile Sobieski grasped your chin as he gave you a small kiss. Once he broke it he wrapped his arms around your waist slipping into the more. Kicking the door shut it only took a moment for him to lock it as he looked around.”Where are the rugrats?”
All he had to do was to mention the word Rugrats and the twins came running out from the living room both of them shouting ‘daddy!’
Laughing, John easily lifted the twins off as he gave them both a kiss to the head.
“Didn’t I promise you that I was gonna be home just in time for Christmas?” Glancing at the clock he sighed. “Now lets get you  both off to bed and we can open some presents alright.” Seeing them yawn ,the two didn’t put up much of a fight as they curled into his arms.
Smiling, you followed you husband up the stairs then two their room. Once they were settled in you made your way back to your own room. Sobieski letting his arm wrap around your waist. “Hmm I missed you y/n.”
“I missed you too John...you...have a new scar.”
Tensing for a moment, Sobieski sighed as he gave you a weak smile. “Can we talk about it after Christmas?”
Eyeing him, you nodded your head as you gave the corner of his lips then you tugged him into the bedroom. “Of course, I’m just happy you’re home.” Pulling him to the bed curling into his large frame. “Merry Christmas John.”
Chuckling, Sobieski let his arms tug you closer to his chest, his arms running down your back. While he was happy that his boots were gone the Shifter made a mental note to take off this suit once you fell asleep. “Merry Christmas too beautiful.”
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Promises Not Kept Part 13
Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.
Part 13: The Christmas that changes everything
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       Leah had suffered through many Christmases alone. The first one she had after losing Jonah was one of the worst. It took a lot of alcohol and crying to get her through to January. She never wanted to face such a gloomy holiday ever again. But ever since their run-in, Tommy and Leah were quiet around each other. Both were too afraid to continue the conversation in fear it would really break them apart. They were trying to at least make it through New Years without arguing again. But the tension still lingered and the only person oblivious to it was Charlie.
           Unbeknownst to her, Tommy was busy Christmas Eve morning. Things were heating up and his family was scattered about. A family divided was a vulnerable family and that was deadly. There was something unsettling in the air.
           “It’s getting late, love.” Leah murmured. The little boy’s eyes had begun to droop as his bedtime approached. They were sat by the fire to stay warm in the drafty house. The toddler was nodding off in her lap, the flames casting shadows over his angelic face.
           “It’s Christmas tomorrow!” Charlie exclaimed.
           “I know, I wonder what Santa will bring you.” She stroked his hair that was starting to lighten, as he got older. He retained certain features that looked like Tommy but he did look like Grace the more he grew.
           “Charlie, got a job for you.” Tommy walked into the big room with a plate. His son jumped up and hurried over. “We give these to Santa and Rudolph.” He knelt down and handed the plate to Charlie to set out by the Christmas tree. Leah stood up, watching father and son interacting with a faint smile on her face.  Tommy poured a glass and placed it by the tree as well. “Put this out for Santa, for his whiskey.” He smiled and held his arms out. “Night-night, Merry Christmas.” He hugged Charlie. “Go on upstairs with Leah, sleep well.”
           Leah reached out a hand for him to take. Her eyes lingered on Tommy for a brief moment before going upstairs to put Charlie to bed. He nodded and
           “Lee, you stay here?” Charlie asked as he snuggled under the quilts.
           “You want me to stay in here for the night?” She tilted her head in confusion. It wasn't like the young boy to need someone to stay with him the night. He tended to be more independent like his father. “Why, poppet?”
           “No, here. Here with daddy and me.” He clutched his teddy bear close to his chest.
           She sighed softly and touched his hand. “Of course, love. I wouldn’t leave you.” And she was speaking honestly. She had no plans to abandon him or Tommy. Not when they needed her the most and not when she loved them both so much. Deep down she knew she needed them both too.
           “Okay.” Charlie yawned.
           “Now get some rest. Santa can’t come ‘less you’re asleep.” She kissed his forehead. “I love you very much.”
           “Love you too.” He replied sleepily and his eyes slid closed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
           When Leah returned back downstairs, she heard Tommy’s sister in the study. She paused for a second, listening to their conversation without intending to be sneaky.
           “If we stay out in the open, isolated, he’ll pick us off one by one. We need to be together in a place even they won’t dare to come.” Tommy’s voice was firm and low as an authority figure.
           Ada laughed in disbelief. “You mean back home?”
           “Within a four-mile radius of the Garrison, every man is a guard and a soldier for us.”
           Leah’s stomach twisted up in knots. What on Earth was he talking about? Who would pick them off? She stepped back a few steps until she heard Tommy raise his voice. “Anyone who wants to live to see another Christmas needs to come where it’s safe.” His tone held a great deal of anxiety even as he tried to conceal it. “These bastards will kill kids as well.”
           She had enough of listening and pushed open the door. Tommy and Ada stopped talking and looked at her. “What’ve you been keeping from me?” Leah demanded without explaining away why she was eavesdropping.
           Silence. Ada glanced over at her brother but he looked caught in the act.
           “Tommy….” Her tone was warning and she couldn’t restrain herself. “Answer me.”
           “There are men who are here to kill us.” He obliged without sugar-coating anything. If she wanted to hear the truth then he would give it to her.
           Her mouth popped open in utter shock. Of course, she knew that Tommy had enemies but he never took the time to inform her how far things had progressed. “And how long have you fucking known?”
           “We’re going back to Small Heath.” He skirted around her second question in his usual business fashion. “Tomorrow, there’ll be a family meeting. We’re all on his list and as far as I know, no one’s safe.”
           Tears welled up in Leah’s eyes. She felt so far behind everything. Pushed aside because she was some delicate woman who couldn't handle what was going on with the man she loved so much. But now suddenly she was involved because it had grown beyond Tommy's control. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
           “Because I’ve been handling it…”
           “How?” Leah lost her patience and it was a long time coming. She was sick and tired of Tommy’s business tactics. Sick and tired of him trying to pull the wool over her eyes.
           “That’s nothing for you to fucking worry ‘bout.” His voice rose a bit too. His nerves were completely frayed. “I’m going to keep you and Charlie safe, that’s what matters. But you need to fucking listen and do as I say!” He pointed sternly at her. “Don’t need you questioning me.”
           Her lips parted slightly in shock. “I’m not one of your men, Thomas Shelby.” She hissed. “I don’t follow your commands.”
           “’Less you want to be fucking dead, you’ll listen. You’re not getting shot by these bastards. Not on my watch.”
           “So I’ve to follow you blindly but you don’t have to tell me when my life’s in danger?” She retorted sharply.
           Ada reached out to try and ease the tension between the two. “Why don’t we calm down a moment, don’t want to wake the baby.”
           “I’m not having this fucking conversation. Not when I’m trying to keep all of you alive!” He stormed out of the big room.
           Leah let out a desperate noise of frustration. Everything hit her like a ton of bricks. Tommy’s behavior, the revelation of what he’d been doing for months without her knowing, and the imminent danger. She collapsed onto the couch in tears.
           Ada frowned and rubbed her shoulder. She was well aware of how frustrating her brother could be. “Let’s get you some tea.” The woman only sobbed in response. “Maybe gin instead.”
~~~~~~~~~~
           Leah managed to drift off for a quick nap after a glass of gin. She curled up on the couch, warmed by the fire still blazing in the hearth. Despite the little amount of alcohol she’d consumed, it was enough to relax her mind even for a moment.
           But that was interrupted a while later by Tommy who shook her awake. “C’mon, we need to leave.” His voice was low but agitated.
           She closed her eyes even tighter and shooed him off. “I’m not in the mood, Tommy. Just leave me alone.”
           “That wasn’t a request.” He asserted and hurried over to stuff Charlie’s presents into a bag. “Go get Charlie, we’re leaving.”
           She begrudgingly sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
           “They know we’re here. We need to be in Small Heath where it’s safer.” He reached out a hand to help her stand up. “I’m sorry. I can apologize for days if you need me to,” He took her face in his hands, his blue eyes searching hers. “But right now I need to make sure you and Charlie are safe.”
           Leah touched his wrist. Fear bubbled up in her stomach as if the second they walked out of Arrow House they would be accosted. “I love you.” She whispered. If they were to die, she needed him to know that. They could argue every once in a while but she would never stop loving him.
           Tommy’s chest tightened. The world was against him and the only people who were standing by him were the people he loved. The people he once loved, who were gone weren’t there anymore. Perhaps in spirit. But he needed to rely on the ones who he could embrace. “I love you.” He murmured back and kissed her deeply.
~~~~~~~~~~
           Leah tried to wake Charlie as delicately as she could. She didn’t want to alert him to anything wrong in fear of scaring him.
           “Is it Christmas?” He asked sweetly.
           “Not yet, darling.” She put his robe on over his pajamas and scooped him up.
           “Mummy!” He looked over her shoulder and pointed at the night table.
           Leah paused and picked up the frame of Grace before leaving.
~~~~~~~~~~
           They were quiet on the way to Small Heath. Charlie had fallen asleep in Leah’s lap in the backseat while Tommy drove. There was no telling what would happen. It wasn’t known if they were overestimating or underestimating the Americans. They just didn’t know the worst was yet to come.
           It felt like ages since Leah was back in Birmingham. Even longer since she’d been in Tommy’s room at Watery Lane. The bed was far too small for all three of them but Tommy didn’t even attempt to sleep. He stayed downstairs by the phone, trying over and over again to get in touch with John to no avail. By dawn, he could only pray that Michael had gotten there quickly and was bringing them to safety.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
           But the hope was shattered just an hour after the sun began to rise. A phone call came through and Esme was screaming on the other end of the telephone line. It all came out as nonsense, hysterical sobs masking her words. But Tommy finally caught a few snippets of what she was shouting.
           John. Dead. Michael. Dead.
           After that, it was just brief flashes of memories. Walking through the hospital. Esme screaming for her husband. Polly running alongside the gurney that held her son. Doctors and nurses hurrying him into surgery.
           He felt so numb as if he wasn’t truly experiencing everything first hand. Instead, he was watching from another dimension, floating through time and space in a daze. Muscle memory carried him through the hospital, every step mechanical and stiff. All the voices around him began to blur into each other to the point he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He just kept walking forward. That’s all he could do. One foot in front of the other. His brain wasn’t functioning. Nothing registered. Just one foot in front of the other.
           Tommy had no idea how much time passed while at the hospital. At least not until Esme forced him and Arthur out of the morgue. As he pushed through the doors, he was met with Leah waiting nearby.
           She looked terrified and grief-stricken. She’d tried to comfort Esme before she stormed into the morgue but with no luck. Polly was also inconsolable, waiting for the prognosis of Michael’s fate.
           It made everything Tommy spoke about the night before feel all the more real. There were truly people out to kill each and every one of them.
           “Tom…”
           “Where’s Charlie?” Panic bubbled up in Tommy’s throat.
           “With Ada.” She answered. “He’s okay.”
           He nodded slowly and walked over to her, right into her open arms. He didn’t speak but began to cry against her shoulder. All the wounds that had finally scarred over were torn open again. Like clockwork, he was forced to face the consequences. Forced to put someone else to rest. Forced to pick up the pieces.
           “I’m sorry.” Leah held him tight. It was clear to her now that they all needed to stick together if they wanted to survive. She just wasn’t sure how long that strategy would work for them. There was no telling when the world would close in on them and began to collapse right from under their feet.
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Remus J. Lupin ~  A Christmas Story in Three Acts
Act I
Christmas Eve - 2001
He is six years old and everything hurts.  It's the day after the first full moon after his father left, and it's been the worst one yet.  The scar across his nose that becomes the most recognizable aspect of his body is fresh and new, loaded up with a ton of muggle antiseptic and the smell is stinging his nose.  Mum is in the kitchen and she keeps crying.  Remus does not.  He's a big boy and daddy is gone so he can't cry.  He has to be strong.  Mum wants that from him.  
Remus sits by the Christmas tree and fiddles with the lights strung across it and looks down.  He sees the meager collection of presents under the tree and scowls when he see the one marked "Daddy" in his uneven letters.  It's a book and he picked it out himself, with Mum at the bookshop.  It's Call of the Wild and Remus had liked the dogs on the front cover.  He liked the idea of a story about sled dogs, he likes them being free in the wild.  It calls to something new inside of him.  He doesn't know enough to feel bad about being a werewolf, and maybe if his dad can read a nice book about sort of wolves he'll stop being sad all the time.
But it's pointless now, his father is gone and mum won't stop crying and every part of his body hurts and hurts and hurts.  Remus picks up the package and  and tosses it into the fireplace with a kind of recklessness that he would only very rarely display.  It's still burning when his mum comes back into the room with a fakely cheery "Happy Christmas" and holding a plate of cookies and hot chocolate.  Remus is six but he knows how to lie already and he smiles at her and listens to the crackle of burning paper behind him.
Act II
Christmas Day- 2008
He is thirteen years old and he's at Hogwarts for Christmas.  The moon had fallen on Christmas Eve exactly this year, and there was no way he could have gone home, even if his mum was desperate to have him.  It was two year away from knowing exactly why, his mum didn't want him to grow up quite that fast, regardless of the fact that he already was quite grown up.  He might be more or less alone on Christmas, but he doesn't mind, so much.  Hogwarts feels more like home than any other home ever has.  He has friends here, people that make an effort to understand him, that care about him.  They may be home with thier families, but they love him anyway, he knows because they send him letters and gifts.  It's new.  Remus feels like it will never stop being new.
Like always, Madam Pomfrey is there when he wakes up, standing at the door of the shack with her medical bag and a robe.  Today she's wearing a little Santa hat and smiles brightly at him, like he's not a naked, gangly teenager with blood dripping down into his eyes and a gash torn deep into the flesh of his right thigh.  "Happy Christmas, darling," she says brightly and wraps him up.  She chatters on while she tends to the worst of his wounds talking about how cheery the castle looks this morning and the fine feast waiting.  When Remus doesn't respond, she falls silent and and just hums under her breath, some half remembered Christmas carol from before life went upside down.  
He doesn't know he's crying until Madam Pomfrey wraps him up into a tight hug and runs her fingers gently over her hair.  "No, no I'm fine," he says a few moments later, and it's true.  He's just realized that he'd never felt more accepted, more himself in his entire life.  There is no judgement, there is no hiding, not in this moment, not with his friends and when he goes back into the castle there will be medicine for the pain and there will be meals and there will be owls from his friends and it will be the best Christmas yet.
{ Madam Pomfrey stays the whole day with him.  First it's just medicine and breakfast, and then it's her singing softly while he plays Christmas tunes on the violin.  She watches him open his Christmas letters and presents, fondly and easily, with none of the caged anxiety his mother always watched him with.  Later, they have spiced hot cider and and Remus tells her secrets that he always wanted to but never felt like he could tell her mother, fragile as she was.  He cries again, several times, but when he's tucked in at the end of the day, he has a smile on his face.  It was a good day. }
Act III
Christmas Night - 2015
He is twenty years old.  Mum had a bad reaction to the current course of chemo overnight and she had to be admitted.  The hospital is all fake cheer and brightly painted horror.  The nurse gives his mother another dose of the Zofran, and she stops vomiting a few minutes later.  She looks pale and wan though, and the nurse says its because she's dehydrated and that's what the fluids are for.  Remus knows.  It's not magical medicine, but he still knows. He did the research, he knows how it works.  He used magic to look into his mother's chart earlier, the things he wasn't supposed to see.  He knows her white blood cell count is low, too low.  They will give her CSFs for that.  Her red blood cell count is low too, and soon they will be hanging bags of blood and plasma and platelets so she doesn't bleed out the new blood they'll be pumping into her.  He knows that every progress note the doctor writes ends with PROGNOSIS POOR.  Remus has met with a Dr. Golden who works for the palliative care department and he talks about quality of life and pain control and time frames with and without treatment.  He is twenty years old and he is an adult, but this feels too much for him, to be asked to make decisions for his mother who can't do it herself because the metastasis and the drugs make her hazy and forgetful and not herself.  
She goes to sleep around ten pm and Remus knows he should stay with her, but he also can't.  He feels like his skin is too tight and it'll start spilling out his insides on to the cold white tile.  
So he leaves.  He goes to James and Lily's first.  He talks to Lily in halted tones about what he knows, what he fears, how impossible it is for him to know what to do.  He doesn't cry then, but his fingers tremble and his voice feels like cut glass crawling out of his throat.  Lily wants him to stay and he almost does, but their house is almost too bright and too happy and he loves them so, but he can't take it anymore, he can't be a burden on a happy day for them.
He goes to Sirius then, wanders outside his window and refuses to say anything until he's spotted because of course he is, who paces back and forth in front of someone's window like that in the middle of the night?  Remus doesn't tell Sirius anything at all.  He sits down on the curb out front and Sirius sits next to him.  Eventually Remus pulls out a cigarette and hardly smokes it, watching the ash burn down to his fingers.  At some point he leans his head on Sirius's shoulder.  It's everything and not enough all at once.  
He leaves when dawn starts to light the sky, and everything cuts at him like knives, the cold that's seeped down into his bones, the ache of his heart that feel fractured.  He goes back to the rundown cottage he and his mother share, and knows then on some level that it will be his alone soon.  Five years they say, five years at the most and they will be painful they will be hard.  One year without treatment, but kinder and maybe Remus is a monster, but he want's everything done, he can't lose her too not now.  Not ever, but especially not now.  But nothing will change the fact that she's going to die. And soon, sooner or later.  
He thinks about screaming, watching the snow melt off the windows from the kitchen sink.  But then he remembers Lily and the soft way her hand clutched his, and James with his awkward but endearing concern watching from the doorway, knowing well enough not to intrude on the world that Remus and Lily could so often create around themselves.  He remembers Sirius who just lets him exist in the quiet fucked up way that he is, even though it probably killed him not to try and fix it.  
It occurs to him that if (when) his mother dies he won't actually be alone. It's a strange thing, a strange gift as Christmas Day faded into the odd time after Christmas and before the beginning of the New Year.  He has people.  He has family.  It's something he probably ought to have known already, but this is honestly the first time it's occurred to him.  
He's twenty years old, and he is old and young and alone and more connected than he has ever been in his life.  It's everything and he looks out at the snow falling around him and smiles through tears.
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“Hope at Christmastime”: A CS Secret Santa Gift
Merry Christmas from your CS Secret Santa, @thislassishooked! I hope you’re enjoying a wonderful holiday season. From our exchanges, I decided that I wanted to do something from Killian’s POV that incorporated lights and decorations. And for some reason, I felt very strongly that I wanted it to be somewhat canon... so here you have it! 
This is a season 1 mostly compliant one-shot in which Killian is a fisherman in Storybrooke, and he meets Emma and Henry a few times. Intrigued and oddly hopeful because of Emma’s fiery spirit, he embarks with her on a Christmas quest for bringing about joy.
It’s not pure fluff and leaves some to the imagination, but I felt like it stayed true to their kind of dynamic. I really, really hope you enjoy!
I know I’m a little early, but I’m sick as hell and worried that tomorrow I might not be conscious, so here you have it on Christmas Eve Eve :)
@cssecretsanta2k19
---
It was an odd feeling, being half in love with a woman you’d practically just met. But it had been years, decades, lifetimes, probably, since Killian Jones had encountered such a fierce, witty, engaging, interesting, and bloody gorgeous woman like Emma Swan.
He’d been living in Storybrooke, Maine… since forever, really. His brother had been in Storybrooke General since his accident years before – still alive, of course, but the doctors continually warned Killian against having any kind of hope that their lives would ever return to the normalcy of Granny’s for breakfast in the off-season and hard work lobster fishing the rest of the year.
It wasn’t just that Emma was the liveliest woman he’d met in ages, she was simply the liveliest being, as if she somehow was part of a totally different, vibrant world.
Storybrooke was… fine. It was safe. He made a living. The people were well enough – he enjoyed talking with Miss Blanchard, the teacher who often read to the coma patients in her spare time. Archie was kind and generous, if not a little bit condescending at times, but his dog was sweet and always made Killian smile. Even Dr. Whale was all right – understanding about the phantom pains from the loss of Killian’s hand that he couldn’t even remember.
But Emma? She was pure magic.
Rumor was she was the mayor’s son’s biological mother, and little Henry had dragged her from her home of Boston to Storybrooke because he was so damn miserable. It made sense. Regina Mills was possibly the least nurturing person he could think of in the whole of Storybrooke, and no one ever really understood why she decided to adopt a child. Henry was wonderful, though – Killian had always thought so. Precocious, inquisitive, kind… many traits he can now attribute to nature versus nurture.
The fist time he spoke with Emma happened to be while she and Henry were walking along the pier one afternoon. Emma’s brows were stitched together in worry, her voice low as she spoke to her son, the boy clutching a large children’s book and never breaking eye contact with her. It felt intrusive to even witness the exchange, but alas they were in his way, and there wasn’t much he could do to avoid them when he needed to get all of his supplies back to his ship without somehow losing another limb.
“Excuse me, love, Master Henry,” he mumbled breathlessly, twisting to the side to pass them by without knocking either of them in the head with something large and possibly rusty (when was the last time he’d gotten a tetanus shot? Did they even offer them at the hospital here?).
“Hi, Mr. Jones!” Henry called excitedly, rushing past his mother and following Killian onto the Jewel.
“How’s your day going, lad?” Killian asked after hefting the pile of supplies onto the closest surface. The boy looked happy, as usual, but seemed to have an extra glint in his eye.
“Henry, what the hell!” Emma shouted as her boots stomped onto the ship, her blonde curls now mangled from the seaside breeze.
“Don’t worry, I know him! This is Killian. He’s Captain Hook.” Henry said it so matter-of-factly that it didn’t even cross Killian’s mind to be offended about the possibly jab at his handlessness. The way Henry was talking you’d think he was just reading from a biography.
“Kid, what did I tell you about that? Operation Cobra is for you and I only, and, like I said, it might be time to take a little break from it.” Emma’s eyes were full of concern, genuine worry for her boy, but also fear. He knew that well enough from his vague recollections of the accident(s) that scarred him and rendered his brother near lifeless. What was she so afraid of?
His attempts to quell her worry were for naught, as she wasn’t about to trust a single hair on his body. “Love, the lad and I are great friends, aren’t we Henry?”
“I’m not your love. And Henry shouldn’t be running on board the boats of near strangers when I’m hardly trusted to keep him breathing let alone keep him from being kidnapped by Peter Pan.” Emma snapped.
“Mom, he’s Hook, not Pan,” Henry corrected, his tone that of an exasperated teenager despite the boy being no more than ten or eleven.
“I don’t care who he is, I’m not letting him be the reason I’m never allowed to see you again, Henry! You know if your mother knew that you ran onto some dude’s boat who apparently you thought was a pirate under my watchshe’d have me jailed. Again!”
“It’s actually a ship here, love,” Killian couldn’t help himself from pointing out, his amusement at her fiery attitude entirely inappropriate for what was clearly a very strong emotion she was experiencing. But it was simply so foreign to him, a person having… feelings. Beyond despair, anyway.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Mo-om,” Henry chastised, though it wasn’t clear if he was offended by her language or embarrassed that she wasn’t quite a fan of Killian’s… sass.
(Killian hadn’t remembered a single other moment in his life where he’d said something so… unfiltered. Damn.)
“My apologies, love, I’m not sure what’s come over me. I’m usually much more polite. Henry, we all know your mother – Mayor Mills, that is – would look for just about any reason to throw this lovely fireball out of our town permanently. Emma is right to worry. Now how about you two go about your way and I’ll show you more about fishing the next time that Regina approves it?’”
“So, never?” Henry mumbled, rolling his eyes and walking toward the gangway. Emma turned to follow him, but Killian wanted one last chance to apologize.
“I really am sorry, love. I can’t imagine you’re having an easy go of it here in Storybrooke and I just wanted… well, I just wanted you to know that there’s at least one more person on your side than you thought.”
Emma finally looked back at him, incredulous, and Killian suddenly felt quite naked. Reaching to scratch behind his ear, he clarified: “Me, I mean. I’m also on your side.”
She rolled her eyes yet again, but a spark came alive in the smirk she shot back at him. “Good to know, pirate, but I’m not your love.”
From that day, he’d had numerous minor interactions with the Mills/Swan duo. He saw them at breakfast at Granny’s one morning, and Emma refused to so much as look at him, while Henry excitedly told him all about the website he’d used to find Emma (he glossed over how he stole his teacher’s credit card, a fact that Emma still appeared to be quite peeved about). The following week he saw the two of them at the playground that Killian passed on his way to his ship. He re-introduced himself to Emma, as she was yet to actually acknowledge she knew his name, but she only responded with some variant of, “OK Pirate,” which had led to her and Henry laughing like fools for at least five straight minutes.
About a week before Christmas, he finally ran into Emma without her son, and while he’d thought that was something he was hoping for – an opportunity to get to know her without her hiding behind Henry – he realized something awful. That fiery spirit in her – the one he so admired – was dimming. This town, it was getting to her. Was she doomed just like the rest of them to live forever without a happy ending? Or even a happy middle? Was this safe, sweet, seaside town nothing but dashed hopes and broken dreams?
“Uh, Miss Swan?” he asked, cautiously approaching the bench she was sat on, her blonde hair whipping in the breeze, her hands tucked tightly into her flame red jacket.
“What,” she called back, not even looking at him.
Even their non-conversations previously had been some type of banter, some kind of force in his dreary life, but today, she seemed defeated.
He didn’t know much about the world – didn’t really care enough to participate most days – but wasn’t this seasons supposed to be the one where you believed even more strongly than ever that everything might just end up being all right?
“Can I sit?
“It’s a free country.”
“My purpose in sitting with you is to speak to you, and while I could talk at you, I’m actually hoping you’ll talk back. Is that a reasonable wish or shall I keep on moving?” With great effort, he kept his voice light and teasing, when in reality his heart was breaking right along with hers. From what he understood about her life, Henry was new to it, but had nonetheless become its center. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have had hope dangled in front of your face only to possibly have it snatched away.
Instead of snapping back at him, she slowly lifted her head, swept her hair to the side, and patted the seat next to her. “Why would you want to talk to me?” she asked, her eyes once again trained on her feet.
“You look like you could use a friend.”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“You could. I’m here,” he offered.
She exhaled deeply, shaking her head and gripping the bench at either side of her legs. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I have no right to Henry… I had him young and gave him up for his best chance. And, as usual, I was wrong. And as usual there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m fighting a losing battle. It’s not like anyone can defeat Regina.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You’ve certainly gotten under her skin.”
“Yeah, making it all worse for Henry. I’m just being selfish here, aren’t I? Wanting my son back because he says his rightful mommy is an evil queen? I’m sure that’s something a lot of kids his age feel. I just… I just wanted to be wanted, I guess.”
Killian let his right hand graze the back of hers as he shifted slightly closer to her. When she didn’t flinch away, he allowed his hand to fully rest on hers, squeezing ever so slightly.
“You’re not making Henry’s life worse by being here. Believe me, Emma. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I have eyes. Henry has always been a bright spot in an otherwise lightless town, but since you’ve arrived it’s like he’s a whole new kid. Confident, excited, hopeful. And don’t discredit what you’ve done for everyone else. Miss Blanchard seems happy to have a roommate. Ruby loves when you visit with her at the diner. Granny seems to think of you as a surrogate granddaughter. Our world was black and white and you brought us color, love.”
The shock in her eyes at his words was enough to both warm his heart and enrage him – it’s not as if he was saying anything that should be surprising to her. Who in her life had made her feel so worthless and how soon could he stab them through the heart with his hook?
You know, if he had one.
But her shock wore off as a bit of mirth seemed to take its place. “Now, I can’t take credit for all of that. Granny likes the money I spend. And Mary Margaret… let’s just say I’m not the one fucking her, so I’m definitely not the reason for the extra smiles.”
“Miss Blanchard!” he gasped theatrically, clutching his heart and hamming it up.
“Oh yeah. You might be the native here, but I know all the secrets, friend.”
“So tell me another.”
“Hmmm. Granny’s lasagnas are frozen.”
“No!” This time he was actually shocked. That crazy loon…
“Oh, yeah. And her nonfat pizza crust? Definitely still has fat.”
“That’s it. I’m calling the health inspector.”
“You know, we don’t have one. I think you’d have to call the sheriff,” she chuckled, flipping her hand over on the bench so her palm was against his.
“Hmmmm, think I have an in with her? I’ve heard she’s a spitfire.”
“I don’t know. Depends on the day you approach her. I’ve heard she has mixed feelings about you, Jones.”
“Oh, so you do know my name,” Killian teased, adjusting the fringe around his hat with his stump.
“I tend to remember the people who try to annoy me to death,” she deadpanned, but he caught the ghost of a smirk at the corner of her lips.
“What if, insteaed of annoying you to death, maybe you let me help you?” Killian offered,  absolutely no clue what exactly he could offer her when she wasn’t wrong about the futility of fighting with Mayor Mills.
“Hey now, I’m no damsel. No one saves me but me,” she said, pulling her hand from beneath his and tucking it back into her jacket.
“Easy, love. I’m well aware that you’re more likely than any other person in this god forsaken town to actually have some success at anything.”
“You been reading Henry’s book?” Emma turned fully toward him for the first time since he sat, her cheeks red and her eyes dancing with cautious amusement.
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure. Why?”
“Well. According to his book, I’m here to save everyone. Bring back the happy endings.”
“Oh? And where exactly have they gone?”
“The Evil Queen – Regina, actually – has ripped them from you. But I, the daughter of Snow White (Mary Margaret) and Prince Charming (the former coma patient she’s been banging) am the  ‘product of true love’ and therefore can break the curse.”
“Damn, you should sell that shit to Disney. You’d make a fortune.”
“Hah. Maybe I should. It’s about the only way I could ever afford to fight Regina the real way, you know with lawyers and money and not … magic.”
It struck him at that moment how true Henry’s story actually rang. Sure, there was no way it was actually real, but hadn’t Killian himself thought countless times how full of life Emma was, how she seemed magical in a world of nothing but ordinary hopelessness? Even if he didn’t believe Henry’s story… scientifically, or what have you – he believed it in his heart.
Emma might not be an actual princess, but she definitely had the power to save. And he’d do anything he could to help her.
“It’s the season for magic, you know?” Killian pointed out, gesturing vaguely toward the wreaths haphazardly hung on the lampposts that led back to main street.
“Are you going to help me achieve a Christmas miracle, Killian?” She reached back toward him and took his hand, squeezing as her eyes sparkled with a plan.
“I’m damn well going to try.”
Together they stumbled through the slippery streets toward Granny’s, armed with an idea and the hopes that Ruby would facilitate their ridiculous plan to bring Henry as much joy as possible, even if Emma couldn’t directly be involved.
“So, you’re telling me you want me to let you decorate the shit out of this place, just so Henry sees it?” Ruby questioned, her one eyebrow nearly touching her hairline, her face so skeptical.
So Killian jumped in. “Listen, Ruby, you know damn well fighting with Regina never ends well. We just have to give the kid some hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”
“Are you sleeping with Mary Margaret now, too, because damn that girl gets around.”
“Ruby!” Emma shouted, smacking her on the arm.
“What? Have you seen him? If Mary Margaret isn’t taking her chance with him and you’re not interested, then hello sailor, fancy taking me for a ride?”
“Ruby, fucking focus yourself. Can you help us? And by help us I mean literally offer free decorating service that will likely increase your tips?”
“Oh, fine. For Henry.”
“For Henry!” Emma and Killian repeated, scurrying off to whatever store they could find that carried Christmas lights, tinsel, blow-up polar bears, and any other kind of purchase-able holiday joy.
Once they’d filled three whole carts, they rolled them back to Granny’s, sat down to sip hot chocolate until close, and then went to town, covering every surface with glittery tinsel, jingle bells, reindeer, elves, and pretty little lit-up presents. Killian borrowed a ladder from the short pharmacist so he could string icicle lights across the courtyard outside and Emma filled the big windows at the entrance with those giant bulb style lights of all different colors. At some point after 2am, Ruby texted Emma that the electricity bill was going to be something she’d have to take up with Granny, but Emma just laughed and Killian said he’d pay it and they kept decorating until about 5am when Granny appeared to start baking in preparation for the morning crowd.
“I’m not even going to ask,” was all Granny said to Killian as she entered her now Christmas paper-wrapped front door and Killian’s heart definitely grew two sizes or more when his eyes traveled over to Emma, carefully arranging the Hallmark Disney castle on the ledge next to the table that Henry and Regina often sat at when they stopped there before school.
It was a losing battle they were fighting, Killian was sure of it – nothing in Storybrooke ever led to winning for anyone who wasn’t Regina Mills. But one look at Emma and all he wanted to do was keep fighting, keep trying, keep hoping that one day their world would be full of happy endings again.
Someday.
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lashtoncurls · 5 years
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Angel(LH)
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Summary: Angst with Dad!Luke Words: 1.4K Warnings: cursing, mention of death
“Look daddy!” Aria screamed as she made her way to where Luke sat with Michael and Calum, their boys sitting down at the same table with her.
“What is it baby?” He cooed and crouched down to meet her eyes, the strawberry blonde curls bouncing along with her.
“I drew a picture of you and mommy. Like the one in our house.” Michael and Calum’s faces changed as they watched Luke’s eyes go sad while he looked at his daughters picture.
“It’s beautiful sweetheart.” He stayed in place when Calum got up, taking the little girls hand to lead her back to the drawing table.
“Why don’t you draw one for uncle Calum? One of Duke, yeah?” Aria smiled widely as Santi and her began to draw doodles of their dogs.
“It’s been five years and I still cry every time Aria mentions her.” Luke sighed as he sat back down, Michael patting his shoulder.
“It’s normal, man. She wanted this, you know that she was aware of the risks but she gave you a beautiful daughter.”
“I know Mikey, but that doesn’t change the fact that Aria is a spitting image of her minus the curls. Her eyes, her smile.They’re just like hers.” A tear spilled past his eyes as he remembered the day that Aria was born. It was supposed to be the best day of his life, the day his second love would be born. Not the day he gained an angel.
*There was an eerie silence around Luke as he sat with his face on his hands, the tears spilling on the floor as his sobs and the loud beeping of hospital machines were the only things that could be heard along with her labored breathing. He lifted his head and leaned back while he sighed and got up, making his way to the small baby crib that sat in the room. It was the first time he saw her. His babygirl was lying peacefully sleeping, waddled in a pink blanket with a pink beanie on.
“Hi, sweet baby.” The tears began to spill again as he traced his fingers on the small nose and cheeks, taking in her features that were just like hers. His heart swelled with joy and sadness at the same time.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” She spoke up, her voice horse as she tried to move but her body would not allow it.
“You want to hold her?” Luke asked as he picked up the baby, sitting on the the edge of the bed.
“Don’t cry, Lu.” The words came out as a whisper as she took in a deep breath, her lungs constricting as the air tried to go in and out “We wanted this. We talked about it.”
“We never thought that it would come to this though. I’m supposed to be driving my girls home right now. We’re supposed to be having Christmas dinner at the Irwins and everyone is supposed to be there to meet Aria.” Luke sobbed as one hand held her cold fingers and the other one cradled his baby to his chest.
“Promise me that you’ll still go have dinner with Ashton and Ally. That Santi, Nolan and Justine will get to meet their cousin on Christmas Eve and that everyone will love her like we knew they would.” She took in a gasp as her hand flew to her chest, the machines beeping like crazy as she coughed. Luke put the baby back in the crib, loud cries coming her as she felt the panic in the room when he began to yell.
“I need a nurse! I need a fucking nurse or doctor in here!” He pressed the button on the bed remote then yelled out the doors, frantic for someone to come help him “Please, help.” His cries were desperate as he continued yelling with tears in his eyes. Her body convulsed as she gasped for air, the oxygen not making it to her lungs.
Dr Fowler, the young doctor who had been the one to treat her, barged in with a nurse and began to place the oxygen mask on her as they surrounded her and pushed Luke and Aria out of the way, doing everything in their power to help the girl on the bed.
“Sir, we have to move you of the room.” The nurse looked at him with sorrow in her eyes.
“She’s my wife! I need to know what’s going on!” His screeches made Aria’s cries become louder.
“Sir, please. She has to be rushed to surgery and you need to take care of your daughter.” Aria was being pushed in his arms along with a bottle as they took him to the waiting room.
It seemed that everything was against him in the moment, but when he looked at the little baby in his arms, he became aware of what it meant to be selfish. He understood what it meant when people talked about loving someone so much that you give everything for them. She had given her life for her daughters. The girl he loved with his whole heart had given her everything to give Luke a child. They had discussed it before but he always shut her down.
Luke wanted to have children, of course he did. But the thought of losing the one he loved made him fearful. The heartbreak he would go through if she died was something he could never imagine, but now as he sat in a white waiting room while she was in surgery and fearing for her life, his heart hurt. It hurt because he knew that one would ever replace her. The smile she gave him when he came home from tour or the studio. No one would ever replace her giggle as he kissed her forehead while her hair blew in the wind. Her love for him would never be topped off. Aria would grow up without someone to call mom and run to. She would never be alone, Luke knew that.
He watched Aria sleep in his arms after she drank her bottle, her cries slowing down while he cooed to her and let her know how much he loved her and that he would be there for her every day of her life.
“Mr. Hemmings?” Dr Fowler walked towards him as he removed the surgery cap from his head. Luke rushed out of his seat holding, the baby grumbling as he held her tightly.
“Yes? Is she alright? How was the surgery?” He towered over the doctor as the words all jumbled out of his mouth, his heart racing as he saw the sadness in the doctor.
“I’m so sorry. We tried everything we could. Her lungs had become so full of water, and she had a hematoma when we tried to take it all out. The birth might ha-” Luke wanted to punch him. He wanted to scream at him and ask him why they hadn’t done more. She could have been here with him, enjoying their new daughter. He fell to the floor as Dr Fowler took Aria from him and watched him punch the wall, then slid down to sit with his face in his hands sobbing some more. The nurses helped him up after watching him cry, taking him and the baby to a grieving room in a different floor in the hospital. He texted the boys as she had been in surgery, Ashton and Ally showing up first. Ally took Aria and let them talk as Luke cried and sobbed until he had fallen asleep on Ashton’s lap.*
“Daddy? Are you okay?” Aria asked as she went back to him to show him her drawing of Petunia and Duke, interrupting his thoughts “Why are you crying?”
“I’m alright, sweetheart.” Luke picked her up without a word as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
“Were you thinking about momma?” She asked in a whisper, low enough for Mikey and Calum to not hear “I miss her too, daddy.” Luke never hid anything from Aria, telling her that mommy was an angel that took care of them from heaven every day. When she pulled away, he smiled at her and kissed her forehead.
“I miss her loads, but remember that she’s and angel that’s always watching us and is in here.” He pointed to her heart as they lovingly smiled at each other and his heart swelled more as he watched Aria go back and play.
tags: @slimthicccal @thecashtonexpress @happycrimiscalum @astrosashton @hotmessmichael @mistletoemichael @grinchluke @angelbbycal @heaven-high-water @lukesflaredpants @uncrownedqueeen @calumrude @hoe4hemmo @calumhampton @calthesensation @irwinkitten
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twopoppies · 7 years
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I got a fic request from one of my followers to give her a list of Larry fics with “a touch of art, medicine, and/or magical creatures". 
It got awfully long mostly because I love magic fics, so I’ll put the recs under the cut. Also, I’m ashamed by how few Medical fics I’ve read! 🙈 Anyway, I hope you find some you enjoy!
Magical Creatures
May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by loadedgunn
Harry thought he had a handle on things. He hasn’t gotten papped in over a month, even the most zealous of fans have given up on finding his location, the Fortress is starting to look hospitable, and Niall just learned how to make shrimp bisque. Even having a massive crush on a gorgeous mythical woodland creature was working out for him.
Most of the time.
On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads.
The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.
(Liam is a centaur.)
Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics
For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.
The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.
Coax The Cold by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics
England, 1897.
English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.
The Devil You Know by Awriterwrites @a-writerwrites
Harry walked slowly to the door, an eerie sense of déjà vu rolling over him. “Who is it?” he called out through the varnished maple.
“Can Harry come out to play?” The voice on the other side of the door was light and airy, musical, with a raspy edge.
Louis.
Harry felt his pulse race a little before he found words. “Harry’s not home right now.” He smirked.
There was a pause and then a light tap-tap-tap on the door, right at Harry’s ear. “Bullshit.”
**** Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good.
Waiting On You by emma1234 @lads-laddylads
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there. 
love is divine by stylinsoncity ( @alienproof )
Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.
as we move slowly by snsk
"You know what color your wings are?" Harry asked conversationally, on his stomach at the tattoo parlor, while Louis played absentmindedly with one dangling hand and flipped through some designs.
// Alternatively: Louis grows wings. Harry is the only one who can see them.
Domestic Monsters (series) by @g-uttertrash
Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.
And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.
(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren't exactly what they seem...
I Will Never Rust by stylez
What was Harry meant to say? Yes Louis, I’d date you. I want to make you come repeatedly so that must mean I have a thing for you yeah? No. Because it doesn’t mean that, because Harry refuses to get attached to anyone he wants to fuck.
or
Harry wants to suck more than just Louis’ blood but Louis refuses to sleep with Count Dickula.
Among The Humans by @the-cheshire-pussy-cat
A gothic, modern day vampire romance between a young human named Louis Tomlinson, and Harry Styles, ancient vampire and gentleman.
Creatures of the night come with more trouble than they wish to make it seem.
finding you was hard (but loving you is easy) by togetherwecouldbealright
An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.
Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight.
Then a string of thoughts make themselves clear in Louis’ head. First, Harry is a vampire. Second, Louis is a dumbass. Third, Louis is also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. Fourth, he’s pretty sure he just quoted the back of the Twilight book.
We’ve got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry
A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.
Magic
because I don’t know that many magical creatures fics, but these ones are magical and are so good as well!
ain’t had none like you in a while by istajmaal
It kind of sucks that instead of using time travel to go back and kill Hitler, Simon Cowell chooses to use it to get his clients to advise younger versions of themselves. Sixteen-year-old Harry's not bitter, it's just that his relationship with Louis was complicated enough before he saw him with hot dad hair.
One day to believe in you by mediaville
A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it's really inconvenient.
Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. "You think about me when you get off?"
"Yes," Louis says. He wonders how hard he'd need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.
"Often?"
"Yes, Christ, Harry," Louis groans. "Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I've been visiting family. Anything else you'd like to know?"
the bearded stranger by @juliusschmidt​
Harry wakes up to a bearded stranger in his bed.
(Make You Want To) Scream by @lululawrence​
While Louis' left hand plays with his nipple, his right reaches down and wraps around his dick and that's when he really knows something is wrong.
The dick in his hand does not feel like his own.
like a boomerang by @youwill​
AU in which Harry gets trapped in a lift, Louis gets stuck in a Wednesday, and it's always February 2nd. Until it isn't.
I’ll Know My Name As It’s Called Again by pukeandcry
Louis wakes up in Harry's body. This is a problem for several reasons.
the impossible now by stylinsoncity @alienproof​
A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.
Come Along With Me by darkofthenights @jimmytfallon​
"A little magic can take you a long way." — Roald Dahl or An AU where Harry is a magician and Louis doesn't believe in such a thing.
Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou
Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.
You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry
A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.
Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes by Teumessian
Louis is just 18 and ends up in 2015 for one day at Harry’s request, one day to make sure his spirit is strong and hopeful enough to take him to the X Factor and end him up where he’s supposed to be. Aka, the one where Harry makes sure Louis knows how amazing he is.
my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach
When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.
Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright
“Alright, alright. No need to bite,” Harry says, holding his hands above his head in a general gesture of surrender.
Louis quirks an eyebrow and his foot nudges Harry’s as he moves to sit straight. “If that’s what you think biting is, you’ve got another thing coming, Styles.”
Harry blinks at him before he feels his face flush and inside the marrows of his bones there’s pulses of heat, pulses of fire spreading through him. “Is that a threat, your Highness?”
“That’s a promise,” Louis answers just as the car halts to a stop. “One I intend to keep.”
Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.
Art 
I included one where the art involved is writing/poetry because the fic in question does such a lovely job of discussing art as a concept that I just couldn’t resist...but otherwise, I only included ones where the art referenced is painting/drawing etc. I’m sad that I don’t know more!
Little Technicolor Things by @tekhnicolor
Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.
I would name the stars for you (I would take you there) by impetuous
"Harry Styles is a poem waiting to happen, Louis thinks, eyes tracing peach flesh and the undercurrent of blue veins. He wants to write him all down, to capture the image of green eyes and red lips and skinny wrists... dark ink spilled across the page."
Or a vaguely Notting Hill-like AU (or that made for TV Disney movie Starstruck if you’ve seen it… no? Just me?) starring popstar!Harry and bookkeeper/soulful poet!Louis; and including guest appearances by Fate, a wise elderly aristocrat, and lots and lots of pining.
Starry, Starry Night by xxSterre (WIP)
Artist AU based on a tumblr prompt by youngandmadeof.
AU where Harry’s getting a degree in fine arts but he’s always envied street artists their freedom and the thrill coming from illegal activity. One day, he notices a particular graffiti and decides to paint into it. Louis does graffiti. One day, somebody starts messing with his murals.
Medicine
why do I only know one?
Lonesome When You Go by 13ways @13ways-of-looking
Harry, Louis, Niall, and Liam are surgeons-in-training at the most prestigious program in the United States.
More than that, Harry and Louis have a history unknown to the others, a history that involves dogs and God, anatomy lessons, food fights, vinyl jazz records, and one hell of an oyster tour.
A story of trust and friendship, of poetry and rock and roll, pink-tinged dawns and the darkest nights.
A tale of portraits, tattoos, and everlasting love.
Edit: How did I forget you @afirethatcannotdie?
Do Not Go Gentle 
“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”
For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.
Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.
“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.
When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.
A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?
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henryandalex · 7 years
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***Can you believe we have to go through a 3 month hiatus until we get new episodes again? What to do on Mondays from now on? Well, I know it is not the same but how about reading some amazing Malec fics? Because there simply can’t be enough Malec love out there and somehow it makes the wait to see these two back on our screens a bit more bearable if you ask me.
Anyway, I hope you gonna enjoy this 4th edition as much as the previous ones. Again, a huge thank you to everyone who left notes and/or told me how much they enjoyed these recs. It’s very much appreciated, so yes, if you want me to continue doing this, let me know, okay? Have fun reading!***
Volume 1
Volume 2
Volume 3
KISS WITH A FIST by @clockworkswans [ M | AU | 225k | WIP | Kiss With A Fist universe #1 ]
When agent Alec Lightwood is given his first kill hit, he doesn’t expect much trouble. Of course, he also doesn’t expect it to be a cheerful assassin who lands him in a whole load of trouble. Enter Magnus Bane: an assassin turned thief who reluctantly teams up with Alec - and The Clave - after he pisses off a very important and powerful crime boss, Valentine Morgenstern. In a world of violence and unjust laws, can the two put aside their differences and work together? Aka: in which Alec is sent to kill Magnus, doesn’t, and then really wishes he had. (but not really).
WILD LIFE by @crazyellephantrambles [ not rated | AU | 69k | complete ]
Alec Lightwood likes to go on road trips. He doesn't pick up hitchhikers. But the one time he does, it's Magnus. He's in for an adventure or maybe even fall in love.
ANYTHING by @baneismyexistence [ M | 36.2k | complete | Anything verse #1 ]
Magnus would do anything for Alec, and Alec doesn't know what to do with that.
EVERYTHING by @baneismyexistence [ M | 70k | complete | Anything verse #2 ]
With Valentine still at large, a crisis threatens to split the Shadow World in two, testing the loyalties of everyone on both sides of the line. But choosing between duty and honor, family and love is never easy, especially when war is on the horizon.
AND YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MINE TOO by @magicandarchery [ E | AU | 10.4k | WIP ]
New graduates and best friends Magnus and Alec have both graduated from the University of Idris with top honors. Graduation and family expectations, however, carved out two very different paths for their lives.
Making the age-old promise on graduation night to get married if they were still single by thirty had been an easy agreement to make. There was no chance it would, or even could, ever possibly happen. It simply wasn't legal.
When Magnus coincidentally re-enters Alec's life eight years later, each are confronted with the unsettled reality of their lives, and the rekindling of long-buried feelings for the other. They decide to reinstate the promise they had made as motivation to get back into the dating scene.
But can they push aside their own feelings for each other as they go on this journey of finding true love?
Or: the "Single by 30" Malec AU that nobody asked for.
STAR WARS: A SEARCH FOR JUSTICE by @sweetillusionketz [ M | AU | 9.8k | WIP ]
After the MORTAL WAR that wiped out the JEDI ORDER and the reconstruction of THE CLAVE to govern the galaxy, military force, THE CIRCLE, has been monitoring planets for any trace of remaining intergalactic terrorism and obliterating possible threats under the name of peace. Each strike leaves death and destruction behind.
Former Senator, General Luke Garroway, leads the DOWNWORLDER RESISTANCE, a counterpoint to the Circle, in hope of finding enough evidence of abuse of power to dismantle the organisation and restore real peace and justice to the galaxy.
In order to do so, Luke has sent Izzy Lightwood, his most daring pilot, and the mysterious Magnus Bane to search for survivors of the last attack…
FANTASY by @theonetruenorth [ E | PWP | 3.5k | complete | Shadowhunters Headcanons #20 ]
“Mhmm,” Magnus hummed as they broke apart and he rocked his hips minutely, the slight movement enough to make them both shiver. “This is getting dangerously close to one of my fantasies, so maybe we should stop, if you don’t want this to go any further.”
“What fantasy?” Alec murmured, craning his neck up again to brush his lips against Magnus’ but the warlock teasingly moved just out of reach.
“Well,” Magnus started, looking at Alec through half-closed eyes and with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I have never had sex inside the Institute.”
BLUE EXTRAVAGANCE by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 27.8k | complete | Blue Steel Series #5 ]
When Detective Alexander Lightwood-Bane is called to the site of a bizarre murder, he doesn't expect to recognize the victim, but that's exactly what happens. Alec met the wealthy entrepreneur at an event with his husband, the flamboyant and enormously wealthy Magnus Lightwood-Bane. When a second victim is found, Alec and his partner, Jace Herondale, realize that their killer has a "type." Unfortunately, Magnus just so happens to fit that type.
IT’S TIME TO LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY, BROTHER DEAREST by @themagnusbane [ E | AU | 83.4k | complete ]
Magnus Bane is a famous stripper, used to pretty boys falling in love with him after one dance. The feeling is hardly ever mutual. But when he meets the freshly turned twenty-one year old Alec lightwood, he can’t take his eyes off him, and they find themselves in love quicker than they expected.
WE CAN SOLVE THIS TOGETHER by @softshumjr [ E | AU | 58.9k | WIP ]
Alec and Magnus have been friends since high school. They both love each other but are afraid to say anything because they believe the other one doesn't feel the same way and it'll ruin their friendship.
Alec and Jace are working on an overdose case and are stuck. Can Magnus be the one to help them solve the case?
UNKISS ME by @sweetillusionketz [ G | AU | 11.3k | complete ]
Magnus Bane loved New York. I mean, what other city in the world held Christmas raves?
He especially loved it when he managed to convince Ragnor and Catarina to join him. Spending time with your chosen family during the holidays was the best thing in the world.
The only thing that could make it even better, however, would be getting to know that very attractive stranger that just wouldn't take his eyes off Magnus. Tall, dark and handsome was just what Magnus wanted to end his amazing night.
All he needed was an opportunity and it came, in the form of a well-placed mistletoe.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, DOCTOR LIGHTWOOD by @softdaddario [ T | AU | 3.1k | complete ]
Magnus Bane agreed to volunteer at a children's hospital on Christmas Eve, wanting to help make sure the kids got the most wonderful evening. Turned out the kids weren't the only one who were gonna have a merry Christmas, Magnus realised when he met the young Doctor Lightwood during his time at the hospital.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, ALEXANDER by @slaymemakoto [ E | PWP | 1.8k | complete ]
A one shot in which Alec gets the living daylights fucked out of him and Magnus is sure that everyone in the building is aware of exactly what Christmas Eve activities the pair are indulging in.
JUST WHAT I NEED by @alyxhavok [ T | 3.6k | complete ]
Magnus has a surprise for Alec, and the rest of his family...
YOU PROTECTED ME by @everydayisonfire [ E | PWP | 3k | complete ]
Post Winter-finale. Inspired by this:
"anyways magnus totally had alec’s omamori with him that’s how he managed to be safe"
IT’S CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT, AND SOMETHING EVIL’S LURKING IN THE DARK by @lightwoodlesbians [ G | AU | 1.8k | complete ]
or, the ’i sneaked into this huge house party for some free alcohol but you asked me how i knew the host and the first excuse i could think of was that i'm dating their sibling, so i basically just lied to you about going out with you’ au
LET’S PLAY by @laurenkmyers [ E | 2.5k | complete ]
Malec's first date gets sexy. Expect semi-public pool table sex.
IF YOU CAN’T FIND THE ONE BEING HUSTLED IN THE POOL HALL... by @quitemagicalbane [ G | 328 | complete ]
"Make the shot then." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay, so make it."
THUNDER’S GETTING LOUDER by @spanglepup [ E | 6.4k | complete | The Boundless Saga #3 ]
For once in his life, Alec decides to take something for himself. He forgets that everything comes with a cost.
THE IMPORTANCE OF PANCAKES by @lecrit [ T | 2.2k | complete ]
Based on the prompt: “I would like a cute Alec and Magnus day in where they cuddle and talk a bit about the future and a second scene where it’s the future and they have their two sons”
WAKE ME GENTLY by @ithilien-writes [ E | 1.7k | complete ]
Magnus rarely (if ever) wakes before Alec, but this time he has... intentions.
FIRST TIME ALEC TOPS by @theonetruenorth [ E | 1.9k | complete | Shadowhunters Headcanons #9 ]
Somehow, they end up with Alec flat on his back and Magnus straddling him, his hands cradling Alec’s jaw while his tongue explores the nephilim’s mouth. It’s a slow, lazy, and unhurried kiss. The kind of kiss that says ‘there isn’t anywhere else I would rather be right now’ and ‘I want to explore every inch of your body’ and ‘I love you’.
CHAIN YOU UP by WholockedHunter [ E | 3.6k | complete ]
Magnus and Alec are having some kinky sex ...
CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU by @deepbutdazzlingdarkness [ E | PWP | 2.1k | complete | The Thirst Is Real #3 ]
If Magnus were more alert, he probably would’ve recognized the obvious signs of someone being in the loft: the boots by the front door, the leather jacket laying on the couch, the empty wine glass sitting on his drink cart, but as it is, he doesn’t notice anything off until he’s standing right in front of his bedroom door and realizes the light is on.
I NEED YOU SO MUCH CLOSER by @deepbutdazzlingdarkness [ E | 5.2k | complete | The Thirst Is Real #4 ]
Work has been keeping Alec and Magnus apart for a couple of weeks and once they finally see each other again, Alec can barely control himself.
AKA the first time they have sex at the Institute. Also the first time they say "I love you".
DANCE IN THE DARK by @deepbutdazzlingdarkness [ E | 2.7k | complete | The Thirst Is Real #5 ]
After a particularly hard day at work, Magnus helps Alec relieve some tension.
NO PLACE FOR A HERO by @one100suns [ M | 20.4k | complete | Battle Scars #3 ]
For Magnus and Alec, navigating their relationship is hard enough without outside forces trying to tear them a part. Quite literally in some cases.
PRESSED UP AGAINST YOU, EVERYTHING IS OKAY by @matsdaddario [ E | 3.6k | complete | Lovely Firsts #2 ]
It’s new, this feeling like even though everything is falling apart that this part of his world makes sense. He likes it, wants to keep it.
“Hi,” he breathes. Magnus stands in front of him, and Alec can’t help himself, doesn’t want to stop himself, from leaning down that little bit to capture Magnus’s mouth with his own.
I SEE FIRE by @lecrit [ M | AU | 12.1k | complete ]
There was one simple and unique rule about being friends with Magnus and Alec: never, ever, no matter the circumstances, not even if you were drunk as an armada of skunks, engage into a debate about pop culture with either of them, and especially not the both of them.
TRUST ME by @sweetillusionketz [ T | AU | 18.5k | complete ]
Magnus Bane has a problem with that arrogant brat that keeps showing his face to every important street race in the city. Damn Jace Lightwood and his annoying habit of winning even though he's just a stupid high school boy. That's insulting.
Fuck Jace. But more importantly, fuck his sweet looking older brother, who just happen to not have the slightest idea of who Magnus is. If everything goes according to plan, Magnus will have put Jace back to his insignificant place and gotten lucky with a gorgeous oblivious guy.
Perfect plan is perfect. Nothing could go wrong.
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ladyamaltheas · 4 years
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i haven’t posted here like as an actual post in probably ninety eight centuries but i did used to talk to some people who might still follow me so i wanted to catch you up on the like last year of my life:
- sometime early 2019 i started taking meds and they changed my life like literally no joke, they did
- related or unrelated, who knows, but i got the best job i’ve ever had, i was writing and doing graphic design and i had my own office and it was in the country side and there was a horse and a pony outside and my boss had two cats and i saw a bunch of pheasants and the cats had three kittens the week i started (they were both girl cats and raised the kittens together so we never did know who mothered which babies)
- i spent most of last summer in heaven with the cats and kittens and horse and pony
- the pony was in his 40s, and as all ponies do, he did have to visit the rainbow bridge, but he was very old and the friday before the weekend he died he fell asleep with his head in my arms
- after the pony, we had cows in the field and they were nice but not friendly
- one of the cats had more kittens, i saw them the very day it happened
- she got hit by a car and her sister raised the kittens
- if you haven’t been around young kittens you cannot fathom how much they’ll bond with you, and i bonded so much with these little things
- i took home a kitten from the second litter when they were old enough (october) and the day after i did i brought her to the vet, who told me, out of nowhere, “her lungs are clear”
- me and my dog lola and this kitten - pixie - slept in my bed in a pile every day i had her
- on the wednesday following “her lungs are clear” pixie deteriorated severely and i brought her back to the vet to be told that she had pneumonia and incredible growth stunts and even if she recovered from the pneumonia she never would have had a quality of life and i had to make the decision to put her down
- we were all shocked - me, my family, my boss, the other girl i work with. he kept trying to get me to take any of the other kittens or their mother or ALL OF THE ABOVE but i didn’t because pixie was very special and i wanted HER rather than a kitten so it wouldn’t have been the same
- prior to pixie’s death, i was living the best life i ever had or ever will
- just after christmas, lola nosedived. it was horrific. she was only 9, and i thought we had a lot longer ahead of us, but the day before new years eve the vet told us she had a brain tumour and there was nothing that could be done with her but to keep her pain in check, and they tried all that day to do that but the following day it became clear they couldn’t and when i went back in to see her she got onto my lap and they put her to sleep
- i will never ever have a connection with another living being the way i had with lola, i did - and still do - feel like an entirely different person 
- life did go on but i have three cousins who’ve been as close to me as siblings (because i have none of my own) and in january i found out that my eldest cousin’s cancer had come back and is like... everywhere, just everywhere
- covid hit and the week of st. patrick’s day my boss said we might have to shut for a few months because due to the situation we had no business coming in, then said he had to lay us off UNDERSTANDABLY
- my mother had to go for a chest scan the following week because of recurring chest infections
- she didn’t have covid, she got out the thursday before easter sunday but had to go back in on easter sunday because she was coughing so much
- not covid that time either, but the following week i woke up and went out to the garden and saw my dad pretty shitfaced in a sunbed and asked him what was up and he said “your mother has cancer in her lung and lymph nodes... sorryyyyy”
- i called the hospital and despite my mother making sure they all knew to tell me what was going on, when i finally got hold of SOMEONE they were like “yes i can answer questions” then when i asked about cancer they were like “i can’t discuss that bye!” which... obviously is a yes?
- we had this confirmed a week later with a meeting with some doctors and a social worker
- my mother said all along that she did not want to know the severity, the ins and outs, any prognosis, timelines, etc
- a week or so or more idk later, without my mother, the doctors essentially told us they couldn’t start chemo because she kept getting infections and they can’t operate because it’s around a blood vessel and radiation wouldn’t work because of this that and the other
- i went feral in that meeting, as you can guess, because it was like they’d done nothing since her diagnosis
- ever since then i’m pleased to say they’ve done more 
- i did demand a second opinion and i did give them a card to apologise for going feral but they were so embarrassed that i’d apologise but i still had to do it for myself
- the week after that we had a meeting with an oncologist and those doctors and his little note taking buddy so i was hopeful for that
- but he talked about my mother like she’s a broken toaster with no hope, he didn’t make eye contact with me or my father the entire meeting, his little buddy didn’t look up even one single time, every time a second opinion was mentioned he asked FROM WHO? as if a normal person would know that? until one of the other doctors interrupted the little cunt to mention doctors she’d looked into to stop him being such a fucking human waste of skin 
- when i went to see my mother after this i found out that the reason he wouldn’t look at me is because he was crueller than i thought a human being could be to her. the meeting i had with him was on a thursday, and a couple of days before that he had brought a bunch of students into her room and told them that she had 10-12 months without acting as though she was in the room or a person at all, without thinking how fucking awful it would be to hear that news without anyone there to support you, without a single family member or anyone who knows you in any capacity there to help
- had i known he’d done this i would have gone for the throat, i wouldn’t be writing this now because i’d be in jail 
- because of his attitude my mother didn’t want to have chemo here. i know in other countries it might be different, but i live in ireland, we have a small country and a small population, we don’t have THAT many hospitals. there’s one near our house and the others that are close are in dublin - she would rather go to DUBLIN than have chemo with this disrespectful monster of a man
- she’s having radiation soon, i have more hope than they gave us, but i really would love to know how many people i killed in a past life so that i’d understand why all of this is happening
i don’t know where else to go with this story but anyway that’s how the end of 2019/start of 2020 has been for me!!!!!!!
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shesawristbanger · 5 years
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Andre, the 19 year old who bribed my 12 year old body with cigarettes and attention to let him put his hands down my hoodie in October outside the Christian youth group. Registered sex offender.
Lewis, my best friends 16 year old brother who found entertainment in kissing a 13 year old and taking off her A cup bra
The 18 year old the summer I was 14 who pinned me against a tree and forced his hands where I asked him not to, whose fingers it took me three years to forget the feel of
Another friends older brother who flirted with the 14 year old in inappropriate pajamas, the baby of the group who flirted back. He pinned me to a wall outside her bedroom until she came out as his face was close to mine. Two years later I would wake up on her sofa, void memory, him standing over me saying "that's what you get". I still have no idea what he meant by that. Registered sex offender.
Ash, the first boy in my bed at 16-the others committed outside. Ash, the first boy to turn my bedroom into a crime scene. It wasn't violent but it hurt. It wasn't traumatic but the trauma remains. I was a bad victim- been drinking, been flirting, my skirt was far too short, accepting his drugs. I woke up to him inside me. Didn't fight hard enough, didn't shout loud enough. I think what hurt me most is that he didn't use a condom. Told me he didn't need to because I was clean. Clean until he left. I remember he kissed the scars on my legs and it turns my stomach
C liked his girls young and at 16 I was the perfect line between legal and jailbait. We could have both gone to prison for the pictures I sent him. Did I do it for the money or the attention? A social worker took my phone away and my parents bought me a new one. I made it two months before I text him on Christmas Eve because I was lonely. When I tried to end it he called me a fucked up little whore, asked who would want me covered in scars? Even a man who paid underage girls for their underwear didn't want me
At 19 I took a boy home from a club to make a girl jealous and I guess I got what I deserved when he slapped me round the face and called me a whore, didn't tell anyone that when he was choking me with his hands round my throat that I didn't fight back because it felt like what I deserved
The doctor in the hospital was the one to notice the hickey first. I was 20 with more sexual partners than years id been alive. They didn't believe me when my friend said she thought I'd been spiked. I sat in A&E with no memory of getting there, no memory of anything once I stepped inside the club. I had my own vomit down my jeans and a head injury. The doctors couldn't do the EKG because I screamed when they lifted my top, the first reaction since I fell unconscious. I don't know who caused the hickey. Male, female, did they buy me a drink, did I flirt with them? My friends lost me for 45 minutes before they found me passed out. Is the hickey as far as it went? I'll never know and it's the not knowing that scares me the most
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vivaciousyellow · 5 years
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v: merry christmas LOL, personal ramblings, nanette, barakamon
honestly this is just beyond embarrassing at this point but here we go
dear ying,
what do you say to someone whose brother is dying? what do you say when that person is your mother?
in my case, the short answer is… you say nothing.
that sounds so shitty right? and really i’m not sure if i’m trying to justify it to myself by writing it out in this here post but i guess we’ll see where it takes us -- and at some point i’ll write about nanette, which will be the biggest cop-out book club blog post because the only thing i read for that was the subtitles. might also do a bonus cop-out and write about barakamon vol 15 because apparently the only thing i can bring myself to read is manga and even then that was a struggle. i will add a mark when i change topics LOL this will be long :/
so i wrote the first few lines of this post well over two months ago and i’ve been coming back to try and add to it multiple times since then, but each time i just don’t know what to say. i had updates i could use as milestones - my uncle had surgery but they said they couldn’t guarantee they got rid of all the cancer; the cancer metastasizing, leading also to an interesting intergenerational debate in the family about trying chinese medicine (my parents’ generation was all for it, esp since the american doctors basically said there’s nothing else that can be done, but my uncle’s sons - who are in their mid/late 30s and have been in america since high school - sided with the american doctors and were against trying the herbal pills). early last month my two aunts flew in from the east coast and that really shifted something in my understanding of the situation - things felt more real all of a sudden, like they came to say goodbye. things looked real bad on thanksgiving - we spent half the day outside of the ICU after an urgent call from the doctors.
now it’s christmas eve and we visited him yesterday - the cancer is everywhere, the doctors have given up on treatment, and now it’s kinda just maintaining comfort until the end. given all of that, he’s doing okay. but what i’ve been wanting to process and write about is my mom’s role in all of this and also the capacities of grief and empathy.
i think my mom is an amazing person - she took the news hard and i wasn’t there for it. since then she’s become one of the pillars of support for my uncle’s family and taking on the communication “””burden””” of relaying information to the rest of the family. she’s done so much and appears so strong yet sometimes i just want her to cry, dammit. keeping it together and putting on a brave face is fucking difficult difficult lemony difficult and i’d love for her to not have to bottle it up.
the night of burlesque my sister told me how much our mom cried, and when i asked if i should come home she said no - that mom would feel guilty that i’m away from school and not able to focus on my work. and this goes back to what i said earlier - the way i said nothing. and i’ve shown love and support in other ways: massages, more hugs and affection and asking how uncle’s doing, helping her cook the meals she brings to him, being her brain when things are hectic (making sure we bring things like water and snacks and chargers as we hurriedly pack for the hospital on thanksgiving), but i haven’t been brave enough to simply ask ‘are you okay? how are you feeling today? what else can i do for you?’
and as a psychology major and someone who wants to go into minority mental health, isn’t this what i should be doing? how can i think of being a clinician if i can’t practice what i preach?
but another thing that has been on my mind since thanksgiving is grief and empathy. who is allowed to grieve, at what times, and at what point do others stop empathizing with that sadness and instead become annoyed?
when we were driving to the hospital on thanksgiving, my mom was on the phone with my aunt (the uncle’s wife) who was in tears. she continued to cry as we arrived and would continue to sob heavily for the next hour, then on and off for another couple hours. and that’s understandable, right? your husband seems to be on his deathbed. however, her sobs were quite loud and she hovered and it quickly got crowded in the hospital room with all of the hospital staff, her son and his wife, and more and more relatives coming. the nurses let some of us go to an office and my aunt was led there to be comforted by the nurses, my mom, her daughter in law, and my sister and i.
as the cries continued, some of the things my mom and other aunts said were - don’t cry don’t cry, it makes it harder on him if he hears you crying, it’ll disturb him, etc. though one of my other aunts made the remark (outside of my crying aunt’s earshot) that her sobbing was disruptive and perhaps over the top. and i won’t lie, it really was loud and echoed throughout the hospital halls, so i will shittily admit that i was also kind of self-conscious of the volume. as the hour went on, i felt the agitation of the other family members rise, and it was fueled when my aunt started saying other things (how my uncle has always been so strong and a good person, why did he deserve this, how she’s a worse person why can’t she die instead, how she wishes she would die right now). and that, as you may know, is a huge superstitious no-no.
it’s not the first time she’s expressed suicidal ideations (another huge huge concern) either, and she has apparently also mentioned this in the presence of my uncle. something along the lines of her burden and also how he has been verbally abusive towards her for years. and that’s certainly a beast of an issue already, but for my mom and the relatives, these instances were about not letting my uncle hear because then he will feel like he’s being a burden, etc.
and it’s tough i guess, trying to navigate a space of empathy for someone in rightful distress, of trying to soothe the ill and keep them as at ease as possible, of prioritizing the very limited emotional bandwidth of everyone present. it’s definitely complex and layered and probably no easy or right answer, but it’s been weighing pretty heavily on my mind since then.
ANYWAY i wrote this out not expecting you to have read it all (but thank you regardless of if you did or didn’t) and certainly not expecting you to respond. it was nice to flesh out some of the stuff that’s been happening and to start shaping words out of whatever has been clustering in my mind these past several months. i think i’ve only really told a couple people about my uncle so writing has been helpful. thanks ying for this platform, even if i’m not exactly using it as intended
actually this reminds me - my uncle’s son is named ying. i mean i knew this as soon as i met you, but writing it out in this context feels strange and almost eerie
OKAY MOVING ON TO AN ATTEMPT AT A REVIEW
alright so you suggested i write a review of nanette because i am apparently not capable of reading a book - but really really hoping i can get to it soon. i loved nanette - at the beginning i was kind of like ah okay she’s funny, though i wouldn’t have said she stood out that much, aside from her jokes being more about being gay. but as she went on and got into depth about the process of writing jokes - how to control the room, what is required, what needs to be left out - as well as her own thoughts on staying in the business, i started to see why you and rachel thought it was so good.
hannah talked about how she has been concerned about whether her audience has been laughing with her jokes (and by extension experiences of the lgbt+ community) or at them. and that was a concern i remember dave chapelle saying he struggled with and that was why he left the business for so long. i’m hopeful though because the crowd seemed really supportive of her branching outside of solely comedy within the show - and i think it was beautifully illustrated at the end when (spoiler!!) the overprotective boyfriend of the girl she flirted with realized that hannah was indeed a woman and really did beat her up. her explanation of why the rules of standup require she leave that part out, why she is tired of telling incomplete stories, and why she wants things to change was really amazing and thought provoking. def looking forward to more from her soon!
as for barakamon vol 15 LOL i actually haven’t finished that yet but i did read something so! lmao yo the man is 23 and UMM the anime came out in 2014 aka i was like 19 years old it was freshman year at nu. and now here i am, ALSO 23. back then that felt like ages away like haha handa yeah get ur shit together you’re kinda young sure but ur 23 that’s an adult adult. and now here we are lmao i feel u handa take all the time u need go ahead and raise ur lil island children
and that concludes my three-month overdue post. i really did nothing i was supposed to and i’m so sorry i haven’t been respectful of your time and what we had set to be a fun joint goal. i love you so much thank you for your infinite kindness and patience. merry christmas and i can’t wait to see you this week!! <3 love u babehh
love,
victoria
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