#he blew out the candles accidentally while talking so he used his phone light how cute
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Happy 21st Felix!
#stray kids#skz#lee felix#lee yongbok#freckled boy#vlive#he blew out the candles accidentally while talking so he used his phone light how cute#I forgot to sharpen the gifs and I'm too lazy to go back and do it SO xD
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Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too
Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤
. . .
- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it
- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet
- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo
- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)
- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet
- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time
- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway
- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily
He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”
Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”
- There are times when homicide is the best option
Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”
He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”
Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”
He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”
Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”
- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is
- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things
Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”
He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”
Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”
- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)
- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart
- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping
- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand
- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands
- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together
- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.
- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things
Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”
He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”
Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”
He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”
Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”
- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window
- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout
- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means
- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi
- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner
- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead
- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone
- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him
- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years
- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon
- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen
- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”
- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo
- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies
- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.
- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips
- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian
Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”
Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”
Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”
Papa Mo: “Yes???”
Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”
Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”
Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”
- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not
- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??
- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing
Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”
Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”
Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”
Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”
Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”
Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”
Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”
Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”
Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”
Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”
- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days
- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask
- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that
- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye
- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks
- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”
- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail
Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”
He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”
Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”
He tian:
#19 days#19 days headcannons#19 days hc#tianshan#mo guan shan#he tian#zhanyi#jian yi#zhan zheng xi#am i procrastinating updating my fics and 19 days socmed au by posting random 19 days stuff?#yes yes i am#old xian
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Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol consumption, allusions to sex
A/N: so you know how last chapter i said there was going to be like 4 chapters left…sorry i lied. as much as it pains me to admit since i’m so attached to this little family, i feel this story is coming to its natural end and i don’t want to drag it out (i may do one-shots of this series in the future though!) that being said, this is the second to last chapter. i appreciate all of your continued support throughout this series <3
Masterlist
Chapter 36
You opened the front door to the house after your therapy appointment. You had been making a lot of progress.
Spencer and the kids used to go with you and then wait at the park across the street until you were done but you had decided that this time you could go alone. Spencer hugged you tightly before you left and said how proud of you he was, reminding you of your calming exercises for the waiting room, and to call him if you got too overwhelmed. Luckily, your anxiety had not gotten the better of you and your appointment went fine.
You could hear the opening notes to Golden by Harry Styles playing. Once the beat dropped, you heard Spencer say, “Okay, go babies, go!”
You rounded the corner to see Spencer conducting a dance party for the twins in their bouncy jumpers and Jo who was wearing her Rapunzel dress.
“Ollie,” Spencer crouched down to the rather stationary baby, “Look at your sisters! See, copy them! We’ll all bounce.”
While Ophelia was very audible and energetic, Ollie was more reserved. This concerned you and Spencer a bit because he would hardly cry and you had no idea what was going on with him or if he needed anything.
As Spencer backed up to start dancing as well, you pulled out your phone and hit record just in time to see Spencer accidentally bounce into the couch and trip and fall flat on his face.
Ollie giggled. Spencer shot up from the ground. Ollie had never done that before. Ophelia’s first laugh was a few weeks ago but nothing seemed to be funny enough for Ollie until his Daddy fell.
Spencer scrambled to get his phone, “Jo, can you record for Mommy? I’m going to fall again.”
You decided this was the time to make your presence known.
“That won’t be necessary,” you announced with a smile, ending the video you took.
“You heard?” Spencer beamed.
“Yep, got it on video too,” you walked over to the jumpers and lifted up Ollie, giving him a bunch of kisses, “You were really going to hurt yourself again just so I could have a video of our son laughing?”
“Absolutely, I was,” he grinned.
“You’re an idiot,” you chuckled.
“You’re the one who fell in love with an idiot,” he replied.
“I guess that makes us both idiots then,” you sighed happily.
“But idiots in love,” he kissed you.
You blew a raspberry and tickled Ollie’s little belly and he started giggling hysterically again.
-
Spencer was with twins on the floor on a blanket doing some ‘tummy time’ while Jo sat on the couch watching cartoons.
“Why can’t me and the babies come with you and Mommy for dinner like we usually do?” Jo asked.
“Because a year ago today, Mommy and I got married so we want to go out to a fancy restaurant and celebrate our love for each other. But, we’ll go out together as a family soon again and Uncle Derek and Auntie Penelope will be watching you tonight.”
“Okay,” Jo instantly agreed.
You clicked down the stairs in your high heels, carefully holding the railing. Spencer stood to help and offered his hand to you for support.
You were dressed in a midi A-line black corset dress with a white floral design.
“You look absolutely stunning as usual, my love,” he kissed your hand.
“As do you, my husband of officially a year,” you beamed.
He kissed you on the lips this time as the door opened.
“Kids night!” Penelope exclaimed, running into the house with Derek in tow. “I brought board games, ice cream, and every Disney movie DVD I own.”
“Auntie Penelope!” Jo hugged her and then Derek.
Then, Penelope turned to you both, “What are you guys still doing here?”
“Emergency numbers are on the fridge. We’ll both have our phones on the whole time,” you repeated the information you had told them many times before as you were pushed out the door by Penelope.
“Oh, also recent development!” Spencer added as he tried to resist Derek’s pushing, “The twins are avid crawlers now so if you set them down for a second and look away, they’ll be gone.”
“Good to know. Enjoy your night, you two,” Derek winked as he shut the door.
“So where are we going?” you asked as you walked hand and hand to the car.
Spencer opened the passenger side door for you, “We are going to the restaurant where we had our first date, my dear,” he smiled.
-
Spencer had rented a private patio for the two of you with lit candles, fairy lights, and a bouquet of wildflowers similar to the one you carried down the aisle a year ago.
You gasped when you saw the set-up, “I love you so much, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you more, Mrs. Reid.”
You and Spencer ordered the exact same dishes that you got on your first date for maximum nostalgia.
“There is something I wanted to talk to you about,” Spencer spoke mid-meal.
You set your fork down to show him he had your full attention.
“So I was thinking about what I want to do this summer. You’re off of work for the summer so we’ll both be home with the kids. I figured I should take up some sort of project to keep my mind stimulated,” he explained.
“Go on...” you took a sip of your wine.
“I think I want to become an author,” he stated.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Any idea what genre?” you smiled softly.
“At first, I was thinking about something related to my time at the BAU but then I realized I’ve had enough of that as is and I don’t feel like reliving it. Now, I’m thinking more along the lines of fiction because during all my years of schooling, I never really got to explore my creative side. I think a kid’s book could be fun for me to write. And I could work on it whenever the kids were napping or at school,” he explained to you.
“Whatever makes you happy, love. I can’t wait to read what that beautiful brain of yours comes up with,” you grinned, “This also makes my gift for you even better.”
“Y/N, we agreed no gifts,” he rolled his eyes playfully.
“It’s just something small that made me think of you,” you pouted, reaching into your purse.
You handed him something wrapped in a thin layer of pale purple tissue paper. Inside was a beautiful leather journal. It had a quote inscribed on it.
‘Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken away from us; it is a gift’ -Dante Alighieri
“You just saw this and happened to think of me?” he asked, amused, “How is it customized with our initials and wedding date then?”
“Fine,” you relented, “I ordered it off Etsy a while ago.”
“Good thing I also didn’t listen to our agreement,” he smirked, “But mine isn’t as sentimental and it’s really a gift for us both.”
“I’ll love it just the same,” you assured him.
“We are not going home tonight. The fairy godmother volunteered her and Derek’s services all night so I booked us a room at a bed and breakfast and I already packed you a bag in the backseat of the car.”
You started stuffing pasta into your mouth, “Eat faster. I want to go as soon as possible.”
Spencer chuckled at your eagerness.
-
Spencer felt you trying to sneak out of bed to get your phone.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled at the loss of your warmth.
“I just want to check on the kids. This is our first night away from the twins,” you grabbed your phone, putting on Spencer’s button up, and facetiming Penelope.
She picked up on the second ring, “Hello, my lovely.”
“Hey, Pen. Are the kids behaving for you guys?”
“Yes. They’re all sleeping soundly now. Me and Derek are just binging episodes of The Bachelorette now.”
“That’s great to hear. No spoilers though!”
“How is your night going?” she inquired.
“It’s good, it’s good. Dinner was nice. The hotel is nice,” you tried to avoid the obvious.
“Y/N, your makeup is completely smudged and I can see the collar of Spencer’s shirt around your neck,” she replied.
You heard Derek laughing in the background, “Proud of you, lover boy.”
“Okay, we’ll see you in the morning,” Spencer hung up the phone for you.
“What did you do that for?”
“Round 2,” he smirked.
taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @doctorreiding @reidsfish
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#dr spencer reid#dad!spencer#cm fanfic#cm fic#spencer x reader#reid x reader
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May 15th
AHAHA I FINISHED IT AND I LIKE IT
Soft content for Eli’s birthday, featuring some baby Eli content as well
CW: fluff. Eli cries a bit. It’s actually quite happy
***
He kicked his legs excitedly as he sat there in the booth, his brand new shark stuffie clutched tightly in his arms. He was so small, it was quite big compared to him, but that just made it all the better in his opinion. He was only just now turning six years old, but he was certain this was the best birthday, and the best gift he’d gotten in his whole little life.
Everett had kept him home from school that day, he was already excited to brag to anyone who would listen tomorrow about how cool his brother was for doing so. He had made him breakfast, pancakes with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and after that he’d let him choose his own clothes for the day, instead of the strict and stuffy outfits their mother preferred he wore. He didn’t even fight him on his hair, simply tied it back in two ponytails for him instead of fighting with a brush while he cried. To him, it was already a great day just from the morning.
After that, he’d taken him out for the day. He’d repeatedly asked him where they were going but Everett simply assured him it was a surprise, only serving to make him more excited. He hadn’t been able to guess where Everett was taking him, but when he saw it was the aquarium, he had accidentally squealed from how excited he was, happily flapping his hands until Everett picked him up and had him sit on his shoulders so he wouldn’t run off in his excitement, as he was known to do.
He was completely in awe of the exhibits they passed through. They spent nearly thirty minutes in front of the tank of moon jellies because he just couldn’t stop staring at them. He thought that was the best, at least, he did until they entered one room where they could actually touch things. Everett was hesitant to do so but he set him down in front of the low tank, and he had absolutely no issue with sticking his hand into the water, gasping when his fingers brushed over the back of a small passing stingray.
“E-Ev- Ev! It’s a, it’s like a, like a pancake!” He giggled excitedly. He snatched his hand out of the water, spreading his hands out as he said, “It’s uh, it’s uh, it’s smooth and flat, it’s like a- like a pancake!” He said, waving his hands excitedly.
“A pancake? Really?” Everett laughed, and he nodded, happy to stick his hands back into the water, a look of absolute glee on his face.
They spent a long time at the aquarium, simply because he felt the need to look at everything for a prolonged period of time. Everett didn’t seem to mind though, he let him take his time and on their way out they stopped in the gift shop. He wasn’t the kind of kid to ask for anything, he knew the answer was likely to be no, but he couldn’t stop staring at the shark plushies, and after a while of him looking between them and his brother, Everett said he’d buy it for him, since it was his birthday after all.
He took him out for lunch once they finally left, and then to a park so he could run around, holding onto his shark while he did so so it wouldn’t get dirty. And now, as the day was ending, he brought him to a small ice cream shop, an especially rare treat for him. He’d gone to get their ice cream, leaving him there alone but still in his line of sight. He perked up when he saw him coming back, he had a cup with large scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream for him and one with strawberry ice cream for himself.
“Here you go, kid.” Everett said, setting it down in front of him as he took a seat across from him.
“Th-tha-thank you!” He said, grabbing the spoon and excitedly shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
“Have you had a good day?” He asked him, taking a bite of his own ice cream while he happily nodded.
“Mmhm! I-I- I had- had fun!” He giggled softly. “I like- I liked the- the- the fish! And- and my shark! I love my- my- my shark!”
“Are you gonna name it?” He asked, and he looked to the shark, making a face as he thought it over.
“Mmmm… Ev.”
“Yeah?”
“N-No- no his name- his name is Ev.” He said, looking up at him. “Since Ev got him- got- got him for me, his name- his name is Ev.” He said, and Everett smiled at him.
“You’re a sweet kid, you know that?” He said, and he giggled, happily shoving more ice cream into his mouth.
By the time they finished he was bouncing in his seat, even more hyper from the sugar. Everett cleaned up after them, getting up and leaving the table for a moment. He watched his brother, on his way back he stopped somebody, asking them to take a quick picture of them together and explaining it was his birthday. When they agreed, he sat down next to him, pulling him into a hug, both of them flashing big grins as the stranger took a picture, commenting on how cute the pair of siblings were as they handed the phone back to Everett.
“Can I- can I- can I see?” He asked, getting up on his knees, and Everett showed him the phone, the photo of them together, he had a big grin on his face, one of his front teeth missing and his shark still in the background. “Oooohhh! I- I love- I love it!” He giggled, and Ev smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Happy birthday, kid.” He told him, and he clung to him tightly, a big smile spread across his face.
After they left, Everett carried him home, having to carry his shark in one arm so he wouldn’t drop it. It was quite late in the day, and after spending so much time out and being so active, he was quickly growing sleepy, struggling to keep his eyes open as they got closer to his apartment. Once there Everett carried him back to their shared room, laying him down and handing him his shark, taking a moment to pull his shoes off for him.
“I’m glad you had fun.” Everett said, brushing wispy strands of brown hair back from his face.
“I- I- I had…” He paused to yawn, finishing with, “I had lots- lots of fun…” He murmured, curling up and cuddling his new shark close. He was asleep in only minutes, a content smile still on his face. Everett smiled as he looked down at him, so happy and so relieved he’d been able to do this for him.
***
“Can I open my eyes yet?”
“Not just yet, we’re almost there.” Zander told him, steering him by the shoulders. “And no peeking.” He told him, Eli snapping his good eye shut when he said it. They’d spent the day out together, Zander had taken him to the aquarium and listened to all his talking and rambling, and now they were finally returning to his apartment, but Zander was insistent that he kept his eyes shut. He heard him unlock the door and push it opened, tugging him inside by his wrist and only stopped in what Eli assumed was the dining room just off his living room.
“Alright- you can open your eyes now.” Zander told him, and he didn’t have to be told twice.
“Surprise!”
He nearly jumped back, startled but a grin quickly spread across his face at what he saw. Cara, Lila, Alec, even Alondra were there, crowded around his dining room table. They’d hung a happy birthday banner on the wall behind them, and gotten blue and white balloons for him, tying them to the chairs. They’d hung pale blue streamers from the ceiling, and on the table was takeout food from his favorite restaurant, and a cake with blue icing and number candles for “25”, and the words “Happy Birthday Elias”.
“Eli- shit, kid are you okay?” Zander asked, sounding worried as he brought his hands up to cover his mouth, blinking back tears.
“I’m- I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m sorry, I love it!” He laughed.
“Aww, Elias you can’t cry on your birthday!” Cara said, coming around the table and pulling him into a hug.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no I’m so happy! This is perfect, I love you guys!” He said, reaching up and wiping at his eyes. Cara pulled away so they could all take a seat at the table, Alec using a lighter to light the candles, the small group singing happy birthday for him while he tried to keep from crying again.
“Make a wish!” They told him and he blew out the candles, smiling as Zander ruffled his hair.
“What did you wish for?” He asked him, and Eli laughed.
“I’m not telling, I want it to come true.” He said. He gladly accepted a slice of cake when Alondra passed him a plate, looking excited.
“I hope you like it, they said this was your favorite.” She said, and he grinned when he saw the inside was layered vanilla cake, one layer white and one colored blue.
“You made this?” He asked, and she nodded as he took a bite, only for his eyes to widen. “Oh shit- this is amazing!” He covered his mouth to hide the grin on his face, looking up at her. “I love it! Thank you so much!” He said, and she grinned at him.
“I’m so glad!” She looked both happy and relieved at the same time, as though she’d really feared he wouldn’t.
It was easily one of the best nights he’d had in a while, surrounded by his friends as they ate and talked and laughed. Once they had all had their fill of food, they brought Eli into the living room, having him sit down on the couch in front of the coffee table, a few gifts placed in front of him that they insisted he opened.
Cara and Lila had gotten him matching pink and green squid shaped pillows, and Alec had gotten him a set of books he’d been collecting. Alondra had given him a homemade apron, made from jellyfish printed fabric and a set of blue baking spatulas with white polka dots, measurement conversions printed on the back, and Zander had gotten him an adorable cat shaped lamp, which would fade through different colors when it was one. He was so excited over each and every one of them, to the point of frantically flapping his hands as he thanked them, looking overjoyed.
“Oh, there’s one more thing.” Zander told him, going across the room to get something from the closet.
“We all picked this one out for you.” Cara told him, and Eli grinned as Zander brought back a rather large gift bag, filled with blue tissue paper. He had to pull quite a bit of it out to get to it, but his face lit up as he saw the item inside.
“Oh my god! I love it!” He cried, pulling out the large dolphin stuffed animal. It was absolutely adorable, he instantly hugged it close to his chest, already in love with how soft it was.
“We’re glad you like it.” Zander said, ruffling his hair. “Happy birthday, kid.” He said, sitting down and pulling him into a hug, only for the others to join in as best they could. It took all his self control to not burst into tears again, overwhelmed with happiness and love for his friends.
***
That night he laid in bed, Zander next to him as he had stayed the night. Zander had passed out after a few too many drinks but he was still awake, laying there and watching the pale light from his new little lamp change. He smiled, turning onto his side and cuddling both his shark and his new dolphin close to his chest, thinking over that year’s birthday wish.
I wish to be this happy all the time.
#not whump#fluff#my writing#my oc’s#Wren#Zander#Everett#Cara#Lila#Alec#Alondra#happy birthday eli#he’s baby#just baby
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pinky promise
pairing: jj maybank x reader
word count: 3.1k (i’ve never written anything this long before lmao)
warnings: swearing
summary: your birthday takes place over quarantine and because you can’t have an actual birthday party, the pogues host a netflix party for you but an unexpected guest joins which ruins the mood. jj decides to cheer you up from a distance.
a/n: hello!! i know i’ve been a little m.i.a. but, i promise that i’m back. send me some outer banks requests and i’ll be happy to do them (no smut pls) also, if you’ve sent a request recently, i’m working on em :) gif credit goes to hvitstark!!!
y/n/n “your nickname”
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
When summer first began, you as well as the rest of the pogues were overwhelmed with excitement. You didn't have to do homework, get stressed with school, take exams. Nothing.
The plans weren't set in stone but all of you had a general idea of what you’d do from day to day. From surfing to eating at The Wreck, there was nothing that could stop you and your friends from having the best summer ever.
All of you had seen news articles, talking about a deadly virus entering the United States. It first appeared in Washington, then slowly started to spread around the vicinity. But no one in the Outer Banks of North Carolina was concerned.
So, the beginning of summer break started with absolutely no delay.
After the first couple of weeks of the virus spreading across the country, slowly but surely, you watched as people started to get worried. It got to the point were you mother was cautioning you before going to hang out with the rest of the pogues.
“I pinky promise that I’ll be safe!” You’d tease before going outside and hopping into John B’s Volkswagen.
When you hopped into the back of the van, you noticed the disappointed looks on everyone’s faces while Pope was rambling (like he usually does).
“I really think that we should start to prepare because I think that this virus is very similar to the Black Death.” He finished, taking a deep breath.
“What’s up?” You greeted, raised eyebrows in confusion.
Pope smiled enthusiastically and gave you a warm welcome while the others groaned like a walker from The Walking Dead.
“What are you babbling on about today, Mr.Heyward?” You questioned.
“He literally won’t shut up about this stupid virus!” Kiara answered for him, resting her head on the window as she sat in the front seat.
“Neither will my mom. She’s all worked about this and telling me to ‘be safe’ before leaving the house.” You explained.
“It’s not like we know anyone that’s sick.” John B shrugged, starting the van.
Seconds later, JJ started to have a coughing attack. He literally couldn’t stop, even after he had multiple sips of water.
Both you and Pope moved to the corner farthest away from him, you were laughing because you knew JJ and his personality while Pope was terrified.
“Holy shit, he has it.” He whispered in your ear, eyes as big as a Watermelon.
“He’s about to cough up a lung.” Kie commented, turning around to see the blonde flopping around like a fish.
After a few more seconds, JJ recovered from his coughing attack and sat up, a huge smile plastered on his face.
“Not funny!” Pope screamed, kicking the bottom of his foot.
“You should have seen your face, it was priceless.” He chuckled.
You crawled over to JJ and rested your head in his lap, arms crossed over your stomach as you cackled, “Oh my gosh, that was hilarious.” You raised your hand and gave him a high five, intertwining for fingers and bringing it back down to your chest.
“I only did it because Pope needs a reality check. In a couple weeks everything will be fine.” He sighed, using his other hand to take the lighter out of his pocket and light the blunt between his teeth.
Before he could, you held out your left hand which was your way of asking him to place the items in your palm because no one was interested in getting a contact high at 2 pm.
Usually the rest of the pogues would snatch it from him but you were different. You didn’t feel comfortable being rough with him because you knew about his life at home and you didn’t want to set him off.
That was one of the many things that JJ appreciated about you. You were gentle with him and always took your time, not wanting to him to feel rushed. So, he always complied when you asked.
“Fuck it, I’m taking all the toilet paper.” Pope commented out of context, causing everyone to laugh.
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
Fast forward one week later and your entire life has flipped upside down.
Covid-19 shut down absolutely everything. Kie and her family were forced to close down The Wreck because they couldn't take the risk of hurting any customers or members of the staff.
All of your friends were separated, except for JJ and John B because they quarantined together, not wanting to be alone during this time.
To be honest, you missed everyone, especially JJ because the two of you always gravitated towards each other so it was pretty hard to be separate from him.
To stay connected with each other, you all texted in the shared group chat and had group facetime’s and netflix parties almost every single night.
John B insisted on inviting Sarah and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Sarah and Kie did squash their beef but, she told you all of the things that happened and it really rubbed you the wrong way. But, you wanted John B to be happy, no matter who it was with.
“Holy shit, y/n/n your birthday is in 2 days!” JJ noticed while the two of you were on facetime. John B was busy talking to Sarah so, he called you to pass the time.
“Yeah.” You replied, unenthusiasticlly.
“I know it sucks that we’re in quarantine but, I promise we’ll have a group facetime and you can pick the movie.” He smiled, you didn’t even have to elaborate on why you were sad because he knew you that well.
“Wait for real?” You laughed.
Listen, everyone has different taste when it comes to movies so, every time that you’re doing a netflix party, it’s really hard to decide on a movie that all of the pogues can enjoy.
“Okay, now I’m excited. This is going to be so fun!” You screeched, clapping your hands together.
“Shit, John B’s calling me. I’ve gotta go but, keep that same enthusiasm, okay?” He replied, smiling into the camera.
“Pinky promise.” You gave him the biggest grin known to man before hanging up.
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
Exactly two days later, you woke up to your mom towering over you with a cake in her hands, “Happy 17th birthday, y/n/n!” She took JJ’s lighter that was sitting on your nightstand and lit the ‘17’ on the cake.
“Woah!” You said, rubbing your eyes. It was still pretty early in the morning and you couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on.
“Thank you so much.” You sat up in your bed, making room for your mother to sit.
“Make a wish.” She encouraged, taking out her phone to capture the moment.
“I wish that I have the best day ever, despite not being about to see my friends.” and with that, you blew out the candles, smiling up at your mom.
“Awe were you recording that?” You smiled, covering your face.
“I was gonna send it to your friends,” She paused, “Speaking of them, are you gonna uh... party on neflix tonight?” She squinted.
You chuckled, your mom really wasn’t as aquatinted with technology as other parents, “Yeah, the 5 of us are gonna watch a movie on facetime. I promise to keep it down.”
“Thank you. I’m gonna go start on breakfast. I’ll call you when it’s finished.” She left your room, leaving the door cracked slightly.
After a few seconds of staring off into space, you checked your phone like you always do when you wake up and your phone was filled with notifications.
Your smiled from ear to ear. Unlike the average kook, you weren’t very popular but that didn’t matter because you had 4 of the best people on planet earth as your best friends.
The first thing that you checked was Instagram. You tapped through the stories that you were tagged in and were met with some of the best memories that were caught on camera.
From the time you accidentally set off the sprinklers at The Wreck, getting all of the customers wet as they were leaving to the time that you got stuck at the top of the monkey bars at your old elementary school and JJ had to come and save you.
You almost started crying because you hadn’t been apart from any of your friends for more that 12 hours and even though it’s only been a week, it felt like forvever.
Before you responded to the countless amount of texts from your aunts and uncles, you texted the group chat and gushed to them about how thankful you were that they all posted something in honor of your birthday.
They all politely told you to and I quote, “shut the fuck up.” because it was a given that they’d praise you for your special day.
You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face and threw your phone on the charger, heading to the kitchen to eat breakfast with your mother.
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
The sound of your phone ringing tore you away from the piece of cake that you were chewing.
“And the guest of honor has arrived!” John B gushed, JJ was sitting next to him and it looked like they were on the couch.
“Get any presents?” Kie asked, positioning her phone upwards so that she could be seen.
“Nah, unless you count cake.” You chuckled, showing them the piece that you were currently devouring.
“That looks so good.” Pope commented, he was staring into the camera, hypnotized by the sweet treat that you had just showcased.
“Snap out of it!” JJ started clapping his hands in the camera causing Pope to fidget slightly taking his face out of the camera.
You spent the first 30 minutes of the facetime call catching up about the stupid quarantine habits that you all picked up.
Kiara had given herself a few dolphin stick & pokes, Pope had started online shopping, like a lot. He had at least 30 new t-shirts in his closet. John B calls Sarah while JJ spends most of his time talking to you.
“Wait, wait, wait guys,” You paused, trying to get their attention because they were all screaming at each other, “Are y’all ready to watch the movie?” You questioned, opening a new tab on your computer.
“Yeah, yeah. Wait a second.” John B put himself on paused, you could hear JJ sigh because he does that at least once every time that you all are on a group call.
After a few seconds, you heard everyone's phone ding as well as your own. You all had gotten a group e-mail to join a netflix party. At first you were confused because JJ said that he talked to everyone and they agreed to letting you chose the movie.
A few more seconds passed and you saw another square begin to connect to the facetime call. It was a number that no one recognized so, everyone was pretty stunned (except for john b).
The mystery person finally connected and it was revealed to be Sarah Cameron.
You looked at everyone's little square and saw how wide their eyes were. JJ seemed furious but, he didn’t want to make a scene because after all, it was still your birthday.
Kie and Pope looked shocked that John B would add her without asking if you were okay with it first.
“Hey guys! Happy birthday, y/n.” Sarah greeted, smiling.
“Thank you.” You croaked back a response, going on your computer and opening the e-mail that was sent, clicking the netflix party link.
After taking a second to load, you saw that you were watching the 4th season of Riverdale. (yikes)
You rolled your eyes, praying that it went unnoticed.
“Is this what you wanted to watch, y/n? I thought you hated Riverdale?” Pope asked, still a little confused on the whole situation.
“Nope.” You stated dryly, shrugging you shoulders and falling back onto your bed.
“Oh, it was my idea.” Sarah chimed in, her bubble got bigger because she had said something, “You don’t mind, right y/n/n?”
“I kind of wanted to watch Back to the Future.” You revealed.
At this point, everyone was shocked, even you. You didn’t hate Sarah, she was currently being really nice but you wanted to spend your birthday talking to your best friends and she didn’t fit into that category yet.
“I don’t really like that movie.” John B commented, earning a slap on the back of the head from JJ.
“Actually,” You paused, contemplating if you even wanted to continue the sentence. You had two options, make a scene or leave peacefully.
“I’m not feeling to well. I think I’m going to go but, have fun watching Riverdale.” Before anyone could protest, you hung up.
Option two it is.
“Fuck birthday’s.” You concluded, turning off your light. You didn’t have the energy to argue with anyone so, you decided to go to bed and deal with it in the morning.
JJ muted the phone so that no one else could hear the conversation that was about to ensue, “Dude, what the fuck?!” He yelled at John B, who was very confused.
“You invited the girl you’ve been mackin’ on for a month to y/n’s birthday party. Did you even ask her?” He stood up, towering over his friend.
“Woah, woah, calm down. I didn’t think that she’d care.” He defended himself.
Pope and Kie were texting you while Sarah was too busy watching the cringe unfold on Riverdale that they didn’t notice that John B and JJ were arguing.
“All she wanted was a good birthday and you fucking ruined it.” He accused, poking at his chest.
“I didn’t ruin it. She was tired and had to go!”
“It’s literally 9:30 pm. You think she’d go to bed this early? We’re in quarantine! Everyone stays up till like, 5!”
The look on JJ’s face conveyed that he was seconds away from punching John B in the face but he had to remember that you wouldn’t want them fighting because of you.
The blonde took a deep breath that lasted at least 5 minutes, “I need to go check on her.” He stated, going into the guest room that he was currently residing in and grabbed a big basket but with how fast he was walking, it’d be impossible to make out the contents inside.
“You can’t go see her, we’re in quarantine.” John B protested but JJ didn’t seem to care.
「 ₊˚.༄ 」
The sun started peaking through your window at around 6 am. The heat of the sun beamed on your face, causing you to wake up earlier that you anticipated.
Groaning, you trudged to the one and only bathroom in your house, thankful that your mom was off to work. She works for Mr.Heyward and they’re currently trying to deliver supplies to as many people as possible.
After getting ready for the day in the restroom, you headed towards the kitchen. In your peripheral vision, you saw a big basket sitting on your front porch.
Peaking your interest, you opened your front door and grabbed the basket with two hands. It wasn’t that heavy but it appeared to be filled to the brim.
Perched on the very top of the basket was a ripped sheet of blank paper covered with medium sized writing. The penmanship was sloppy and certain words had been written over and over again, most likely because the marker was running out of ink.
Based on the lack of punctuation, you already knew who hand delivered this package.
On the inside was 3 of JJ’s shirts (without the sleeves ofc), a half empty bottle of cologne that he’d only wear on special occasions, a torn 2 dollar bill, and a hydroponic blunt.
If any other pogue was receiving this as a gift, they’d probably be really disappointed but, not you. You knew that JJ wasn’t well acquainted with showing and or receiving love so, this was a huge gesture.
Running back into your house, you grabbed your phone, ignoring all of the apology texts from John B, you facetimed JJ.
After a few seconds of it ringing, he answered, “What time is it?” He groaned.
“When did you deliver this?” You asked, ignoring his question.
“What are you talking about?” He didn’t falter, standing his ground.
“Don’t play dumb with me, JJ. What time did you put this on my doorstep?” You persisted, showing the poorly wrapped package that rested on your dining table.
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
You squinted your eyes into the camera and waited a few seconds and sure enough, he creaked, “Fine, fine! I may or may not have decided to play mail man last night.”
“What the heck-?” You paused, attempting to take in what he had just said, “Wait, why?”
“Well, after Sarah crashed your birthday party, I thought you might want to wake up to something, uh, nice.” He grinned, awkwardly.
“You should’ve called me! I would’ve come outside to see you.” You replied, disappointed. He was mere feet away from you last night and you weren’t aware.
“Social distancing, y/n.” He teased. We all know that JJ is the pogue that’s most likely to accidentally break one of the rules during quarantine.
“JJ,” You took a deep breath, “Why did you all of this. I mean, it’s such an amazing birthday gift. A blunt and a 2 dollar bill, what more could a girl ask for?”
“IT’S BECAUSE HE LOOOOVES YOU!!” You heard John B scream from farther into the house.
JJ dropped the phone on the bed and put himself on mute, you shook your head, knowing he was most likely scolding John B.
“I’m sorry, he’s been spending to much time with Sarah.” He returned, “Also, I stole that bill from Kie, don’t tell her though.”
“I really really really miss you, JJ.” You sighed, frowning.
“I really really really miss you, y/n.” He mocked, of course he could not be 100% serious, even when he wanted too.
“Can you promise me something?”
He raised his eyebrows, face plastered with curiousness, “Uhhh, maybe.” He chuckled.
“Promise me that you’ll ask me out once quarantine is over?” You deadpanned. It was clear that it caught him by surprise because his face wasn’t covered with confusion anymore but shear terror instead.
“W-What was that John B???!!! You fell in the toilet! Awe shit, y/n, I’ve gotta go.” He replied, hanging up the phone.
Usually, you’d be a little offended but, you knew he was just messing around with you, especially because he was so used to making the first move when it came to getting girls.
Your phone was on silent so, you didn’t notice it a first but you had a new text message from JJ.
“pinky promise.”
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#outer banks#netflix#outer banks fic#jj maybank fic#jey's oneshots#rudy pankow#john b routledge#pope heyward#kiara carrera#sarah cameron#rafe cameron#imagine#outer banks imagine
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The Aftermath ~ Part 7
Summary: y/n goes to therapy, is a confirmed hoodie stealer, and gets a pep talk from sam wilson and wanda maximoff
Pairing: peter parker x reader
Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma, me attempting to write a therapy session
Word Count: 3850
A/N: so many things. 1) i’ve never been to therapy (even tho i desperately need it) so i’m solely basing that off of Freaky Friday with Lindsay Lohan. 2) i live for sleepy tropes and i hella indulged. 3) sorry not sorry
//////////
“Your projects are due next Monday. Have one partner email me who your group is working with, and no, Mr. Thompson, you can’t work with students from other periods. Class dismissed.”
“Want to work together?”
We had been going to class together for a month now, but it always seemed like Peter was surprised whenever he saw me sitting next to him. Maybe it wasn’t surprise...
“Yeah. When do you want to work on it?” I shoved my notes into my already disorderly backpack and slung it over my shoulders. It was starting to get colder in New York, but I was still wearing t-shirts and shorts (mostly because I could keep myself warm and also because I’m stubborn as hell).
“Thursday? Or do you want to start sooner than that?”
“No, I can do Thursday. Are you going to the compound this weekend?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but I still checked who was around before asking. You can never be too careful.
“Yeah, May’s driving me up after school on Friday. Want a ride?”
I smiled. “That’d be nice.” People were slowly making their way out of the building to head home for the day, but I was heading to Manhattan.
“You going home?”
“No, I’m seeing my shrink. I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He turned right, I turned left, and I might have turned around and glanced back at him over my shoulder, just for a second.
But so did he.
/////////
Taylor’s office had a billion plants and as many windows in it. She always had a candle burning that smelled like clean laundry, and she liked to talk first whenever we met up. That’s why I liked her so much.
“Remember my crazy neighbor’s dog?” She was watering one of her plants when I walked in. “Guess who I accidentally ran over?”
“You ran over a dog?” I left my backpack by the door and grabbed my own watering can.
“No, not the dog. I ran over my neighbor while he was chasing after the dog.”
I laughed. “Like that’s much better.”
“Running over a dog is unforgivable, Y/N. A person is understandable.” We finished watering the plants then sat down at the huge floor-to-ceiling window that took up her back wall. Another reason I liked Taylor: I actually do stuff while I’m talking with her. It’s not like I’m sitting on a couch staring at her while I talk about my feelings, we’re on equal ground. The last couple visits I’ve worked on painting New York, but I haven’t made much progress because I’m a shit painter. “That’s not the point,” Taylor would say, “it’s all about going with it. Be a shit painter. Own it.” Yeah, we get along great.
“No more panic attacks since the first day.”
“Yeah? That’s great.” Unlike me, Taylor is a phenomenal painter. Her skyline had identifiable buildings. Mine had — I think one looks more like a tree than a building. (That’s one huge tree.) “Any nightmares?”
Oh. We’re going there today. “Just on bad days.”
“How often are the bad days?”
After the Blip and before Europe, my bad days went from every day to maybe once a week. Then Europe fucked me over. Now? I don’t know. “Whenever they feel like it.”
“C’mon, Y/N, you can do better than that.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “It’s not like it’s a cycle, like the moon or a period or our meetings. It’s sporadic, Taylor, and fucking exhausting.”
“Why? Why are the bad days so exhausting?”
I may or may not have angrily made a bird smash against a window in my painting. “Because I’m the only one who knows. Mom guesses, most of the time, but it’s like she’s still dancing around me. Dad sees it when he’s home, but he doesn’t know what to do. And—“ I almost said ‘and Peter.’ That would’ve been awkward. “And my friends make it better, but they’ve got their own shit to deal with, and I don’t want to dump any of my problems on them. And I know you’re going to say ‘Internalizing your pain is bad, Y/N,’ but it’s the only solution I can handle right now until I muster up the courage to actually talk to my mom again. I mean, last time I needed Jess by my side, how the hell am I going to handle it without her?”
“For starters, I’m proud of you for acknowledging the way to address the problem. And secondly, you don’t have to do it by yourself. I’ve actually been wanting to have another session with your parents, and now seems like as good of a time as any. Bring them around for your next session, and we’ll talk to them, together, about how you can get through bad days with their help. Okay?”
My lips quirked up, just a smidge. “Okay.”
“Now let’s talk about King T’Challa’s new suit, you can’t pretend you don’t have an opinion on it...”
///////
It was a bad day.
Which sucked, because it was also Thursday, and Peter was supposed to be over in half an hour to work on our project. And I was a mess.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom called from the living room. Her elementary school got out twenty minutes before Midtown, so she usually beat me home. “How was school?”
“It’s a bad day,” was all I said before I closed the door to my room. I didn’t slam it (not anymore) but I didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t tell if I wanted a nap, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to fly from rooftop to rooftop until I was too exhausted to come home; I didn’t know. Which sucked, because I’m the only one who could’ve told me the answer.
The was a light knock on my door. “Can I come in?” I didn’t respond, so Mom walked in. “Mind me asking why today was bad?” I still didn’t say anything, my face buried in my pillow. She sat at the edge of my bed, near my knees. “I can usually tell, you know.” It was a hushed voice that came out of her mouth - nothing like the loud and loving woman I’ve known almost my whole life. “You do a good job of trying to cover it up, but I can tell. Your shoulders are tenser than usual, and your eyebrows are crinkled together the second you step out of your room.” She sighed and put a hand on my back - her hands are always warm and usually smell like hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works because she refuses to use the government-issued ones at school. “You dad and I have no idea what you went through while we were gone. We have no idea what you went through in Europe. But we’re here for you now, Y/N. You carry this weight around with you, and I just — I want you to know that you have people to share it with. Maybe not the weight itself, but the pain it’s causing you.” She removed her hand and set both of them in her lap. “I don’t know how to make the bad days better, so I need you to tell me when you’re ready. I’m here for you, baby.” She leaned down and kissed my head, then stood up and started walking toward the door.
When her hand was on the knob, I finally spoke up. “Thank you.” It was barely a grumble, but she heard it.
The door closed quietly, and I finally decided what I wanted to do.
Cry. I cried. For at least twenty minutes. I cried because of my abilities, I cried because I lost Jess as a mom, I cried because I went to Europe, I cried because Quentin Beck was an asshole that fucked up my mental state for probably the rest of my life, I cried because I killed a lot of people, I cried because now I was friends with Peter but at what cost?
He showed up, eventually. I heard him knock on the front door as I blew my nose. Mom, bless her soul, kept him distracted until I came out of my room myself. It took me another twenty minutes to finally convince myself to leave my room, and at that point I was too exhausted to keep myself warm anymore, so the cold breeze blowing through New York hit me in full force. I slipped a hoodie on, grabbed my backpack, and took a deep breath before opening the door.
Peter was sitting at the counter while Mom washed the dishes from breakfast this morning. She was back to talking loud, and he was listening with a smile on his face. My door closed and his eyes immediately darted to me. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Pete. Is it okay if we’re in the living room?”
Mom glanced between the two of us and tried to hide her little smile, but at least one of us caught it. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”
He must’ve noticed my bloodshot eyes; he couldn’t stop staring. “Is that my hoodie?”
Shit. Is it? I glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and remembered getting drenched at the compound after the sprinklers unexpectedly came on. Then Peter gave me his hoodie. “Shit, yeah, it is.” I pulled on the sleeves to take it off, but he shook his head.
“Don’t worry about it, I have at least two more at home.” He pulled out his laptop and it was suddenly back to business. “Any ideas how we’re going to do this?”
We bounced ideas off of each other until we came to a rough draft, but it was getting later, and bad days always get worse at night.
“Shit, is it ten already?” Peter started gathering his things and stuffing them in his bag. “I told May I’d be home by ten, I hate being late.”
I pulled out my phone and sent May a quick text; we’ve had each other’s numbers since my first weekend at the compound. We lost track of time, he’s heading home now.
I figured. See you tomorrow :)
Peter stood up and started walking toward the door, and I followed him. I had spoken maybe twenty sentences the whole time (it’s a miracle we got this far in the project) but I couldn’t convince myself to say anything else before he left. And I wanted to. But I also wanted to cave in on myself — and we both know which option was winning that battle.
“Do you need a hug?” He basically had one foot out the door, but he turned around and asked me this.
“What?”
“Your heartbeat — it’s been off all day. And it still is right now, and — Do you need a hug?”
God, he was perfect. And I was so gone.
All I needed all day was a goddamn hug, and now he’s offering one, and tears started brimming in my eyes before I could even nod yes. He was so warm, and his voice flitted around in his chest, and I would’ve felt bad about getting tears on his shirt, except I didn’t care anymore. All I cared about was how the weight on my shoulders lifted when Peter Parker’s arms were wrapped around them.
“Are you going to be okay?” he mumbled in my hair. I only nodded again. “Okay.” He slowly loosened his grip, but not before he left a quick kiss on my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Another nod. “See you tomorrow.”
///////
Peter was going crazy. Since we hadn’t found any footage that could clear Spider-Man’s name without incriminating Peter he wasn’t allowed out as his alter-ego. And he was literally climbing the walls of the compound.
I was blowing gusts of air at him, trying to knock him down from the ceiling. We had officially finished our project only twenty minutes before, so I pulled up the EDITH footage from London, trying to think of how to clear Spider-Man’s name.
And then it hit me.
“Oh my god.” I ran to the computer and started typing away furiously. “I think I figured it out.”
He came back to the ground. “Figured what out?”
“We can just use the audio file from the video. Then your face doesn’t have to be in it at all.”
I found the file and played it over the speakers.
“EDITH! Turn off the drones.”
“Should I execute all cancellation protocols?”
“Yes, execute them all.”
It was perfect. Exactly what we needed.
“Peter.” I turned to him with a huge smile on my face. “This can save Spider-Man.”
“This can save Spider-Man,” he repeated. “Shit, Y/N, you just saved Spider-Man.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly and lifted me in the air, his laugh ringing in my ear. “I can still be Spider-Man!”
I laughed along with him. He set me down after a minute, but we were still standing unbelievably close together. One minuscule step forward and my lips would be on his. His heart beat jumped, and so did mine, but he didn’t pull away. Neither of us pulled away.
His tilted his head and kissed my cheek (which I still freaked out over) and then took a step back.
“We have to call Pepper and tell her.”
“Yeah, yeah.” FRIDAY started the call and Pepper was over the moon.
“We’ll get a press conference set up for tomorrow, and I’ll work on a statement. Peter,” this was the sternest I had ever heard her - even more serious than when she was talking to Morgan, “I know this is all good news, but you have to wait to be Spider-Man still. All of this press has to die down first before you can go out in the open again, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Potts.”
“Okay. I’ll see you two bright and early tomorrow.”
She hung up and Peter hugged me again. This one was way more subdued than the last one. “Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbled into my neck.
“You’re welcome, Pete.”
//////////
The press conference went well, according to Rhodey. “I think most of them were relieved to know Spider-Man’s not actually a murderer.” Everyone was dying to have Spider-Man come out and answer questions, but Pepper insisted no questions were being taken at that time, or ever.
MJ called Peter after the press conference was released to the public, and they talked for what felt like forever. The second he got the call I went to the training room: to distract myself or actually train, well, it doesn’t matter because both were done.
A simulation droid was about to “kill” me, but red magic tore it apart at the last second.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Are you okay?”
I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because Peter’s been talking on the phone for the same time you’ve been in here.” Wanda gave me a knowing look. You forget that she can read minds because she’s not invasive about it, but she’s always there, holding the information to either back you up or tear you down.
I sighed. “He’s talking to MJ. And I know there’s a high possibility that they’ll get back together but a part of me is hoping they won’t.”
“So you can be with him instead.” I gave a small nod. “Don’t give up yet, Y/N. I see the way he looks at you. You might have more of a chance than you think.”
“She’s right, kid.”
I jumped in surprise. “How long have you been listening?”
Sam smiled from the observation deck of the training room. “Long enough. Boys are stupid, they need all the help they can get.”
“I’ve given him plenty of help already. Literally.”
“Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. If it doesn’t work out with MJ, shoot your shot. I have a feeling you won’t be disappointed.” He winked before leaving, and Wanda followed suit.
I rolled my eyes before telling FRIDAY to pick another random simulation. “Make it a good one.” And, boy, did she. It was the hardest one yet, and all of my concentration was going into it. I was so focused I didn’t even notice Peter walk in until after I had won.
“Damn.”
I turned quickly to see him standing near the door, his hands in his pockets. “Hey. How’d it go?”
“It was okay. She saw the news.”
“But…”
“But it’s not happening. I-“ he looked down at the ground, “I can’t trust her. Not when she lost trust in me. And I- I think I’m interested in someone else.”
I nodded along. I tried to keep my heart as normal as possible but it was beating too hard from my adrenaline to be controllable; I’m almost positive Peter heard it jump at the news. “That’s understandable. Who’s the, uh, the someone else?” God, please be me.
Peter’s lips twitched up to a small smile. “You’ll find out eventually.” He stepped further into the room and relaxed a bit. “Want to do a round together?”
I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I was exhausted, and I think I pulled a muscle, and I could already feel bruises forming where I ungracefully fell on my side. So I just shook my head. “Some other time.”
My room had a bathroom attached to it, and that’s where I spent the next half hour, standing under the blazing hot water coming from the shower. Once I convinced myself to actually get out and change into pajamas, I grabbed my laptop and climbed into bed. I was going home tomorrow, I deserved a few hours of shuteye.
Then someone knocked on my door and ruined the whole ambiance.
“Oh, you’re - I was just - I’ll just go.”
“No, Peter, what’s up?”
He was standing there, hair damp from the shower, black t-shirt and flannel pajama pants on, looking hot as ever. “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie, but you’re already in bed, so never mind.” He turned to walk away, and I almost let him because I was on-my-ass exhausted, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not when he looked like that (soft, but also hot as fuck).
“Come on.” He turned, and I opened the door wider. “I was about to watch Gilmore Girls, but we can watch a movie if you want.” I pulled back the covers and left plenty of room for Peter to sit beside me.
“We can watch Gilmore Girls, I don’t mind.”
The second I pressed ‘play’ on the third episode was the second my eyes could barely stay open any longer. I tried so hard to watch Jess win Rory back, but sleep caught up with me and I let it win. I used Peter’s shoulder as a pillow and decided sleep was a battle I didn’t mind losing.
////////
I woke up to my alarm, but as quickly as my eyes opened, Peter’s arm pulled me closer to him. I was too tired to feel embarrassed or excited about the fact that Peter Parker was in my bed with an arm wrapped around me. All I wanted to was to turn off my alarm and go back to bed, but my dad was picking me and Peter up in two hours and I wanted to bully Sam into making me pancakes again.
“Let go, Peter,” I ended up mumbling, “I have to turn the alarm off.” He moved his arm off and I sat up and grabbed my phone. “I’m getting breakfast.”
It must’ve been my lucky day, because Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen. “‘Morning, sunshine. Sleep okay?” I looked at Sam with a hard glare, and he laughed. Of course he knew Peter was with me, FRIDAY knows everything.
I sat next to Bucky and thought of fluffy pancakes to ward off my burning hatred for Captain America. “Sam, how much do you love me?”
“Depends on what you’re willing to give me in exchange for the pancakes.”
Of course he already knew my move. Typical.
“I’ll delete half of the embarrassing footage of you saved in FRIDAY’s hard-drive.”
Sam looked at Bucky suddenly, extremely confused. “I thought that was done months ago.”
He just shrugged and drank his coffee. “Must not’ve gone deep enough. Good thing Y/N is here to catch it.”
Sam glanced between the two of us and sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll make you some stupid pancakes.”
I smiled, then Bucky slipped me ten dollars under the counter and whispered, “Save me the footage.” I winked back.
“Can I have some too?” Peter, soft as hell, came into the kitchen and sat beside me. (His knee was brushing up against mine.)
“Only if you have something to offer.” Sam liked us, I know he did (that’s part of the embarrassing footage FRIDAY has saved) but he was usually a dick to us - anyone who wasn’t Bucky (and even then) - in the morning. It was always playful banter, but we knew not to step too far before eleven o’clock.
“I promise not to test out my new long-lasting webs on anything you own.”
“Deal.”
The pancakes were delicious (“hell yeah they were, I don’t mess around with pancakes”) but my dad was at the compound before we knew it, and it was time to face reality again.
“I saw the press conference,” Dad said when we sat down in the back, “and everything was very convincing. Congrats on getting to be Spider-Man again, Peter.”
He beamed. “Thanks, Mr. Y/L/N. Anything exciting happen at the hospital recently?”
They talked medical, while I sat back and listened to the engine. It covered up their hearts, but that didn’t matter, because both would’ve sent me right back to sleep. And it did.
We pulled up to Peter’s complex an hour and a half later. There were still plenty of daylight hours left, but we both left more homework to today than we would like to admit and neither of our parental figures would be pleased with that.
“See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile.
I smiled back, genuinely, (I was giving those out way more often now) and waved. “Bye.” Dad and I drove back and walked up to the apartment bumping shoulders. Our schedules didn’t line up very often because he was needed in the ER a lot of the time, but we always had a sort of silent understanding. He unlocked the door and let me in first, but when my eyes landed on the kitchen table, I stopped mid-step.
Blood. Everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on Mom’s floral couch she claimed “added personality” to the living room. No one else was in the apartment, I could tell, but then it just raised more questions:
Who’s blood is everywhere?
Where the hell is Mom?
tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker series#peter parker oneshot#marvel#marvel comics#reader insert#peter parker x mj#ned leeds#michelle jones#flash thompson#spiderman far from home#mcu#spiderman#avengers
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Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH83
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
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Chapter 83: Castle Cry (X)
As a small expert in finding things, Dr. Lu found a key in a secret compartment of the desk drawer, which was probably the one needed to open the basement. So the three people hurried downstairs and went to the first floor. It was already 3:40 in the morning. They would return to the outer world in 20 minutes, and they had to solve the problem in 20 minutes, otherwise they would have to wait another hour. Who knew what would happen in the outer world?
Qi Leren and Dr. Lu talked about the task in low voices, and they had to be careful not to let Nan Lu hear about skills - he wasn’t sure how an NPC would react to this.
"Although Nina's words are full of flaws, let's listen to her, otherwise it's easy to have an accident." Dr. Lu seriously warned Qi Leren, who was eager to move. "Don't mess around, let’s kill the crazy lady so we can go home."
"Oh... My warning skill is cooling, and the cooling time is too long. I can't count on this skill. The S/L skill has cooled down, so I can fight with it," Qi Leren said.
"My lucky skill was activated at 1:30. After 90 minutes, it’s expired by now. The cooling time is three hours. That is to say, the next time I can use it is after six o'clock, I basically can't count on it ... Take care of yourself, as long as you climb out of the cellar alive, I will treat you and cure you." Dr. Lu's tone was filled with a faint sense of pity, and it seemed that Qi Leren was going to suffer misfortune.
"...What if you die inside?" Qi Leren asked sullenly.
"You little devil, don’t talk nonsense! Go fight the boss well! Don’t set up any Flags!" Dr. Lu slapped Qi Leren on the back of his head, giving full play to the majesty of a doctor.
"...Oh." Qi Leren responded stupidly, remembered something again, and quietly reminded Dr. Lu, "Be careful of Nan Lu."
Dr. Lu nodded his head.
The deepest part of the corridor was a large kitchen. There were cabinets everywhere in the area of more than 10 square meters. The ceiling directly above the generous prep counter was covered with various nameless kitchen utensils. There were also many pots and pans and some unpacked ingredients on the counter.
"Look at the corner, there’s a dark box on the ground," Dr. Lu warned.
Qi Leren inspected the kitchen along the wall. The ground was covered with a layer of ceramic tiles with a white background. They reflected his own figure vaguely under the light. He squatted down and knocked on the ground with his fingers. He didn't feel that any tiles were hollow. Where was the hidden compartment?
"I can't find it... I wish I had asked a little more clearly." Dr. Lu murmured, "Should we go ask Nina? Time is running out."
Qi Leren also stood up from the ground. After squatting for too long, his brain was short on blood. He was dizzy briefly, and the image in front of him was covered with a black shadow. He blinked hard and then suddenly froze.
The cupboard door in front him was made of glass, and the transparent glass reflected the image behind him - a well-dressed blonde woman was sitting on a wooden chair not far from Nan Lu, holding a baby in her arms. She lowered her head and looked at the baby in her arms gently, as if humming a gentle lullaby. And at her feet, the ground was covered with bloody remains, a head wearing a chef’s hat was cut into two pieces, and a maid holding kitchen utensils was beyond recognition... The blood rolled like it was boiling, while the woman holding the baby turned a blind eye to the bloody scene, and was strangely serene.
Qi Leren quickly turned his body, and the wooden chair against the wall behind him was empty.
Was it an illusion? Or…
"What's the matter?" Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren striding toward the chair behind him and asked.
Qi Leren forgot to answer him. He dragged away the wooden chair and knocked on the tile under the chair with his finger. It was hollow.
"This is it." Qi Leren stuck his dagger into the gap between the ceramic tiles and pried it open. Several adjacent ceramic tiles were loose. After they were removed, there was a square iron grate below, like a cellar entrance.
"How did you find it?" Dr. Lu asked curiously.
"I saw her," Qi Leren whispered, staring at the slightly rusty iron grate underground, and the heavy iron lock that firmly locked it, together with all the evil inside.
"What did you see?" Nan Lu said sharply.
Qi Leren didn't answer. He said coldly, "Back up and I'll open the basement. If something is wrong later, you should get out of here..." He didn't expect Dr. Lu and Nan Lu to help, and the seed of slaughter in him might accidentally injure his teammates, so he would rather face the crazy lady alone.
The heavy iron lock was opened with the key, and Qi Leren’s heartbeat quickened. The cellar door to the basement was opened with a dull sound, revealing a vertical iron ladder and the deep darkness below. There was a stale smell in the darkness, as if it had been sealed for a long time.
Qi Leren's flashlight had already been lost in the outer world, so he had to use the light of his mobile phone below. The light spread down the iron ladder, illuminating the concrete floor, and there was nothing.
There must be danger down there, which Qi Leren could feel, but he still had to take the risk. After weighing it, he decided to suspend his use of the S/L skill until he found the danger. With his mouth biting his mobile phone, he continued to light the way, holding a dagger inlaid with holy runes in one hand and climbing the iron ladder in the other hand, ready to climb down to the basement.
His foot stepped on the rail of the iron ladder, which was very strong. Qi Leren felt like walking alone into the fog full of monsters, knowing that there was danger lurking in the darkness of the basement, but he forced himself to go on.
Most of his body had descended into the cellar, with only his shoulders above it. Qi Leren nodded to Dr. Lu, beckoning him to pay more attention to Nan Lu. Unfortunately, the tacit understanding between them was insufficient. Dr. Lu waved to him with mirth, and Qi Leren was tired and went to climb the ladder.
A cold wind blew up from bottom to top in the basement, and the lighting range of the mobile phone was narrow, only seeing his own shadow in the beam, surrounded by vast darkness. Climbing down, Qi Leren suddenly stepped on air, and the rung of the ladder was missing. He fell down, but fortunately, his hand gripped the ladder tightly, so he didn't fall far. This little accident made Qi Leren, who was originally in a calm mood, feel flustered, and there seemed to be a terrible monster lurking in the deep darkness at his feet.
Before he could calm his heartbeat, the foot that stepped on empty air in the dark was suddenly entangled in something, and the something that grabbed his ankle was surprisingly strong. It pulled him down from the ladder and he fell to the ground.
Once again, he fell dizzily, but this time it was much better than falling into the studio from the second floor. At least Qi Leren still had the strength to roll several times, holding up his awkward arm and clenching his dagger.
The mobile phone had fallen to the ground, illuminating a small area. In the dark, it seemed that there was a gentle singing, a faint candle lit up, then a second, more and more... Two rows of candlelight, lit up close to the wall, illuminated this dark and dead basement. At the end of the candlelight, there was a rocking chair with its back to him. The woman sitting in the rocking chair had long golden hair, which fell down like a waterfall.
She gently hummed a lullaby and sang softly in this cold basement.
Qi Leren's line of sight swept around, but he didn't see what had pulled him into the basement just now. It was so weird... He even thought of running away, but when he looked up, the open cellar door seemed to be pushed by an invisible hand, and was closed with a loud bang, and the light over his head disappeared, which also cut off his retreat.
With the cellar door closed, the rocking chair slowly turned, like being placed on a turntable, and slowly turned around. The blonde woman in the rocking chair was humming softly with her eyes closed and her baby in her arms.
The rocking chair stopped, facing him, and the crazy lady in the chair slowly opened her eyes - her left eye was exactly the same as the portrait, but her right eye had been gouged out, leaving only a bleeding hole, with blood seeping from her eye to her neck.
This rare and ominous scene made Qi Leren dare not spit out a sigh of relief. He was still, and his muscles were tight to the point of stiffness.
"Are you here to get back at me?" The lullaby stopped, and the crazy lady asked softly.
"..." Revenge? Who wants revenge? Qi Leren's brain was blank.
"You have taken away my child, what else do you want to take away? His love?" The mad lady's voice became cold. She looked ahead with empty eyes. She said in a self-deprecating way, "I hate you... Hate you... Envy you... Go back to the grave and keep company with dirty maggots. That's where you belong. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..."
Her crazy laughter grew crazier and crazier, piercing his eardrums.
She stood up and gently put the baby in her arms on the rocking chair. In the flickering candlelight, the intact half of her face was like the Virgin of Vladimir, but when she was walking towards Qi Leren, the blood and tears flowing from her bloody right eye made her look like the evil spirit from a horror movie.
Two rows of lit candles shook, casting criss-crossing shadows on the ground, shaking, trembling…
There was something creepy, climbing slowly from his feet, stroking his ankles and knees, and climbing inch by inch. Qi Leren slashed the dagger in his hand at the invisible things, and the dagger waved a sharp wind in the air, but it didn't touch anything. What were these things? What on earth was it?
The crazy lady walked towards him with a strange smile on her face. She walked slowly, but every step was like a stuck video tape, jumping forward frame by frame. This was definitely not what human beings should look like! Candlelight in all directions made her shadow tremble and distort, projecting a strange chaos on the ground.
At this moment, Qi Leren suddenly realized something.
He lowered his head and looked at the shadows climbing his trouser legs, which had no form and no quality, yet still existed…
It was the shadows.
-----
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Chase The Fire Away 8
The Bookshop
AO3
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Summary: Patton wonders what it would be like to tell his dads about his powers.
Ship: Lomile, implied future Intruality, Roceit, mentioned Sleepxiety
Word Count: 1381
Warnings: Dark sides (but I might stop adding this warning, they’re in the whole series- I’ll always tag the characters though!), witchcraft and vampires, swearing, god it’s really pretty mild the warnings don’t represent that very well lmao
Patton was doodling kittens on the corner of the newspaper while his dads made lunch together in the kitchen. Logan smirked at his husband while Emile hugged him from behind. He poked his sides affectionately. “What can I do?”
“I think you’re good right there,” Logan said. He poked the grilled cheeses with a spatula before turning them over in the pan.
Emile cooed and kissed his neck. “You’re being sweet.”
“You’re being cute.” Logan shot back. Emile smiled and squeezed him tighter. He rested his chin on the vampire’s shoulder.
Patton watched them for a moment before returning to his drawing. He gave one of the cats a little witch hat and stared at it. He should really tell his dads about his powers. Patton tried not to groan at the thought. Yes, Logan was a vampire. Yes, they were both super cool and accepting. And yes, they deserve to know what’s going on. But the thought of telling anyone that he was a freaking witch just made Patton feel silly.
Patton chewed on his lip anxiously as the thought of Emile and Logan laughing at him swirled around his mind.
“Pumpkin?”
Patton’s head flicked up to see Emile looking at him, holding two plates with lunch. “Honey, are you okay? You totally spaced out on me.”
“I’m fine,” Patton said quickly. “Sorry.”
“No no, not at all,” Emile reassured. “It’s okay, sweetpea. Have some lunch.” He offered the plate again.
Patton took it from him with a small smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
Logan hovered his hand over Emile’s waist and guided them to the table. The small family sat down together and ate quietly. Logan had one hand on Emile’s back, as he often did. He looked over at Patton. “Have you talked to Remus today?”
Patton swallowed and tried to pretend he wasn’t blushing. “... Yeah. Why?”
Logan smirked and Emile hid a giggle behind his hand. “Ooh-ooh!” he smiled. “You’re blushing…”
“Shut up!”
Logan smiled and kept his eyes on his food. “Fine, fine. But I know that Remus is coming in tomorrow if you want to come to work with me.”
Patton did end up going to work with his dad, he’d only been to the shop a couple of times but it was really pretty and he did love it. Logan was sitting at the counter, reading something and hoping they had few customers. Roman was sitting on top of a table, flicking through a book of old looking illustrations.
In the back of the shop, Remus was adjusting the arrangements while Patton perched on a stool, watching. He watched one of the candles on a shelf, they were unlit, just sitting there.
Remus pulled back and studied his new arrangement. He looked around and caught sight of a book by Patton that needed to go somewhere. “Hey can I just grab this- thanks.” he leaned over Patton, their shoulders bumping together.
Patton’s breath hitched. They were so close, god he liked Remus so much. He bit his lip until Remus drew back and he relaxed.
“Holy shit, pancake did you do that?”
Patton looked up, “what?”
Remus pointed at the candles on the other side of the room. “They weren’t lit before.”
Patton swallowed. “Um… maybe. I’m not sure.”
Remus laughed, offering a high five. “Nice one! Can you do it again?”
“I’m not sure…”
“No no no! Doubt ruins it!” Remus grabbed Patton’s hands and squeezed them. “C’mon. Get rid of the bad vibes, Pancake. Only happy feelings are allowed!”
Patton smiled at Remus’s efforts. “Ree, my dad is in the next room.”
“Okay, fine.” Remus was still holding his hands. “When are you going to tell your dads you’re a witch?”
Patton laughed. “Yeah I’m not telling them.”
“Because they wouldn’t believe you?” questioned Remus.
Ha! My dad’s a fucking vampire. “No, I just don’t know if I’m ready to make it a whole thing yet.”
“Seems fair I guess.” Remus let Patton’s hands go and picked up a candle. “Make a wish, pancake.”
Patton raised his eyebrows. “It’s not my birthday.”
“Irrelevant.” Remus presented the candle to him. “Wish.”
Patton laughed and blew out the candle. I wish Remus liked me back.
Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening and broke into a grin. “Dee!”
Janus rolled his eyes. “Hi, love.” Dee was his middle name, and still the name Roman preferred to use because it used to make Janus grumpy. He walked over and kissed Roman. He set the coffee cup tray down on the table his husband was sitting on and rubbed his back. “What’re you working on?”
“Just looking through a book I forgot about.” Roman picked his coffee up and leaned against Janus, tucking himself against his side. “How’s our son?”
Janus kissed the witch’s hair. “They’re very wedding focused at the moment. Virgil was working at the counter, completely surrounded by binders and notes.”
Roman chuckled. “Poor things.”
“I don’t remember us being much better,” Janus thought back to their wedding. Roman had been beside himself with stress and Janus himself had slept a total of three hours the week before they got married.
Roman squeezed Janus’s hand. “We definitely were not.”
Janus looked around the shop and saw Logan. “Hello.”
“Good afternoon, Janus.”
“Coffee?”
Logan was by his side in a blur and took the cup. “Thank you.”
“Using your speed in the same shop as a clueless 14 year old seems foolish.” Janus pointed out.
“I can hear them. He’s distracted.” Logan sipped his drink. “They’re discussing werewolves.”
“What are they saying?”
Logan shook his head. “I’m not repeating it. It’s ridiculous.”
Janus smiled at Logan’s exhausted expression as he walked back to the counter and returned to his book. Janus rested his chin on his husband’s head. “I love coming in here.”
Roman looked up to kiss him. “I love you coming in here.”
Janus hugged him and looked over his shoulder. “Show me this book then. What’s it about?”
Logan watched the older couple talk from his spot by the counter, doing his best not to accidentally listen in on them. Roman and Janus were beautiful together, they were exactly who he wished he could be with Emile one day. That was, if he wasn’t immortal. Logan ran his hand through his hair as he thought about the promise he’d made to Emile the night he’d proposed.
Emile had tears on his cheeks, admiring his ring as he rubbed at his face, scrubbing the tears away. “I love you so much.” he smiled, throwing himself into Logan’s arms. He hid his face in the crook of Logan’s neck. “I want to be with you forever.”
Logan waited perhaps a moment too long before responding softly. “Forever with me… is quite a long time.”
“It’s what I want, Lo.” Emile said. “I want to be like you, to be together with you forever.”
“Is it really?”
“I need you to promise you’ll turn me.” Emile whispered. “Not now. But one day.”
“When?”
Emile cupped his face, pressing their foreheads together. “10 years.”
“10 years?”
“Promise me, Logan. No longer than 10 years.”
Logan pulled him closer. “Emile Picani.” He murmured. “I promise to turn you into a vampire, within the next 10 years, so we can spend the rest of our lives together.”
Logan leaned against the counter, sometimes he wished they could just be normal together. Just a normal couple who could raise their son and grow old and eventually die. But it was more complicated than that. Of course.
Logan looked over at the doorway where Patton was and listened in, wondering what they were up to. They’d moved on from werewolves to difference between warlocks and witches. They were both so fascinated by supernatural creatures, it almost made Logan nervous that Patton would spill his secret. He would never, Logan decided. He trusted his son.
Logan set his hand over the page of his book and studied his wedding band, the light from the candles around him reflected off the gold ring in shiny little shapes. He smiled at it slightly and picked his phone up, opening the contact with muscle memory alone.
“Hey, kitten.”
“Hi, honey!”
“Are you busy? I thought maybe you could stop by for lunch…”
Taglist:
@sander-sideblog , @korsaromantic66
#ctfa#chase the fire away#swearing#vampire au#witch au#sander sides#thomas sanders#patton sanders#remus sanders#intruality#emile picani#logan sanders#lomile#roman sanders#deceit sanders#janus sanders#totally did not frget his name#frget jesus chrsit#oh my fucking god#roceit#rj fic
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February 2020
I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!
Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.
A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.
Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.
More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.
Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.
Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.
That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.
Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.
Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.
Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.
This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.
Carrot cake oats.
Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.
Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.
Peeling fresh carrots.
Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!
Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.
The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.
More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).
Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.
Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.
A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.
A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)
Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.
Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.
Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.
Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.
My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.
Blue eyeliner.
Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.
Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.
The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.
Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.
Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.
Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.
Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.
Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.
It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.
That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.
Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.
Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.
Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.
Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.
Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.
Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.
Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.
Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).
I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.
Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.
Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.
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Birthday Surprise [Mark, Jaebum, and Jackson]
Not gonna lie, these got long.
Enjoy~
Moving to South Korea was one of the hardest things she had done. She left behind her parents, family, and some of her closest friends. If it wasn’t for her best friend, Amber Liu, who lived in Seoul near her, she wouldn’t have adjusted as fast as she did. Through her friendship with Amber, she met idols and non-idols. One group of people she grew relatively close to was the members of Got7 before ultimately dating one of them. Due to her teaching job and her relationship, she extended her stay in South Korea for another year.
As her birthday and Christmas neared, her boyfriend wanted to do something amazing for her. She didn’t have the money to go home to see her family and he knew that she was feeling homesick, so he called her mom. His original plan was to fly her mom out to celebrate her daughter’s birthday as well as Christmas. Luckily, while talking to her mom, her boyfriend found out that her dad would be returning home from his deployment.
Her father has been in American Army and ever since 9/11, her father was deployed several times to Afghanistan. It had been three years since she last saw her dad when she graduated from her university. He was gone most of her childhood and teen years, but he was her hero and she loved him to pieces.
Her boyfriend knew his girlfriend’s biggest wish was to see her father again and now he had the once in the lifetime chance to make her dream a reality. He booked the flights for her parents and anxiously awaited for the day of their arrival which fell on his girlfriend’s birthday…
Mark
Cassidy had sighed for the hundredth time that day. She didn’t want to have a birthday party, so she tagged along with her boyfriend, Mark, and his members. It wasn’t her plan originally, but Mark had begged and asked her to tag along. Between her idea of staying in bed and cry about not being with her family or going to a concert where she could forget about her pesky homesickness for some hours. The choice was obvious.
She was sent off in the front row so she could enjoy herself during the concert. She had a blast being with the fans who knew who she was and listening to her favorite songs from Got7. It was all great and the thrill definitely lifted her mood.
It was the intermission in the concert. The lights on the stage turned on as a security guard escorted Cassidy backstage. Jaebum moved closer to the edge of the stage to speak to the fans, “Thank you for being here with us. Mark has a special gift for a very special person.” He stepped back and Mark moved forward.
Mark looked to the side to see Cassidy backstage with a questionable look. “Cassidy, can you come over here?” He waved for his girlfriend to go on stage encouraging cheers.
Cassidy stood with wide eyes and shook her head in a panic. Mark looked to Youngjae and Jaebum who made their way to her and led her unwillingly on stage. Cassidy wasn’t one for being the center of attention.
Mark met Cassidy half way and brought her back to where he stood before, “You guys already know my amazing girlfriend, Cassidy, yea?” Loud cheers and screams gave him his answer. “Well today is her birthday and being the amazing boyfriend that I am, I had to do something big. Let’s sing her happy birthday, yea?” Mark grinned as the members and fans began singing with him. Yugyeom wheeled out a birthday cake with candles lit on top.
Cassidy laughed as she tried to ease the tension in her shoulders and when the song came to an end, she blew out the candles. She received a round of applause and cheers from the fans.
“Now time for your birthday gift!” Bambam grinned and Cassidy looked back at Mark suspiciously. He pointed to the right where the other entrance of the stage was and Cassidy let out a gasp then a sharp cry.
Cassidy was overwhelmed seeing her dad that she collapsed in her spot and broke down into tears. Her dad approached her with her mom trailing behind. He took her in his arms and she immediately wrapped her arms around him. “You’re here!”
“Happy birthday, Cassie!” His voice boomed through the concert hall. Mark knelt beside them and patted Cassidy’s back lovingly before the two of them helped her stand back on her feet.
Her eyes sparkled with joy and wonder as she thanked the fans and headed off stage with her parents on either side of her. She couldn’t have a better birthday than this moment. She looked back to see Mark staring at her. Cassidy mouthed a thank you before she blew him a kiss. His lips curved in a lopsided smile as he flashed her a peace sign.
Jaebum
Jaebum was upset he couldn’t meet Rebecca’s dad in person, but he was able to correspond with him via video calls and phone calls. Jaebum had high respects for her dad even before he had met him since his girlfriend only spoke highly of him. Lucky for him, Rebecca’s dad really liked him and would message him to keep in touch which made Jaebum feel cared for.
Jaebum had planned to be home in time of his girlfriend’s birthday, but JYP added a few more additional concerts in Japan and much to his dismay, one fell on her birthday. Jaebum was upset, though Rebecca reassured him that it was okay and she understood. He was the leader of his group and Rebecca knew his members and the fans would come first.
Rebecca was a teacher and her birthday back home used to fall on a school day, but teaching in Korea she was blessed with two weeks off. So, when her break began, she was already in a great mood.
Rebecca woke to a start with her phone vibrating on the night stand beside her. Sleepily she moved her hand around to find the phone before grabbing it to see the caller id. Jaebum’s name flashed on the screen and she slid the answer button, “ollow?” She mumbled half asleep.
“Hey sleepy head, why are you still in bed?” He chuckled, “Your hair is all over the place too.”
She ran her hand through her hair as she turned to rest on her stomach, “I think I deserve the right to sleep in on my birthday.”
“You’re right. Happy birthday, baby! I love you.”
“Thanks. I love you too. Wish you were here to celebrate with me.”
He gave her a small smile, “I’d give anything to do that.”
Rebecca dragged herself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth as Jaebum told her about the concert he had. However he checked the time and paused, “Your gift should be at your apartment soon.”
Rebecca was struggling with her sweat pants to get them on when she stopped. “What gift? What’d you buy me?” She asked with a bit of annoyance laced in her words. “I’m glad you think about me, but you know you don’t need to spend money on me.”
The doorbell sounded and Jaebum’s smiled pulled apart, “This was worth every penny I spent. I promise.” Rebecca grumbled as she made her way to the door and threw it open.
She was greeted with a huge bouquet of flowers and her mother’s bright face, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL!”
Rebecca’s eyes watered as she hugged her mom, “Mom! You’re here! What the–” She buried her head in her mom’s shoulders as her mom patted her back. “Come in come in.” She pulled away and lead her mom inside.
Her mom plucked her phone from her just as she entered the apartment and turned the camera to face Rebecca. “I’m not the real surprise and I don’t want to see you break your phone with your reaction.”
“My reaction to?”
“Can you believe my little girl isn’t so little anymore” a deep voice shook Rebecca to the core.
Her eyes widened afraid if she turned the person she wanted it to be wouldn’t be there. Slowly, she turned prepared to feel crushed, but when she saw her dad’s grinning face she burst in tears. “Dad!” She rushed her dad and threw her arms around him. He immediately took her in his arms and held onto her tightly as she cried feeling his own few tears fall as well. “How are–You’re here.” She couldn’t make sense of it as she let go of her dad. He said nothing as he pointed at the phone in her mom’s hand. Rebecca went back and took the phone to see Jaebum again.
“I’m glad your present got there in time! Have a great time with your parents, love. I’ll see you as soon as I get home” he waved before he hung up to give her a chance to catch up with her parents.
Jackson
When Jackson was 100% sure Vanessa’s father was coming to Korea, he wanted nothing more to tell her. He knew how much his girlfriend loved and admired her dad. He was a man who would always be number one to her and Jackson wanted nothing more than to meet the man who helped raise his amazing girlfriend. As much as he wanted to see that smile on Vanessa’s face, the idea of seeing her look surprised was something he wanted to see more. So, as hard as it was for him, Jackson keep tight lipped and refused to spill his hard work.
Jackson was able to trick Vanessa into going to the airport with a lie that his mom was coming in. She had met Jackson’s mom several times as they couple had been together well over a year. So, to greet her at the airport would be nothing new for Vanessa.
The two stood in the airport as they searched for two different people. Vanessa had flowers in hand to present Jackson’s mom when Jackson took them from her casually. “I’ll hold them, babe.”
“Why? She’s your mom. You’ll need free hands to hug her” she laughed as she tried to take them back. “You’re going to accidentally hit her with them and we both kn–”
“That she is” Jackson grinned widely as he pointed ahead.
Vanessa turned back to the crowd of people who exited customs trying to see Jackson’s mom only to lock eyes with another familiar person, “Mom?” She saw Vanessa and waved wildly before she reached back and hit her husband’s stomach to get his attention. Vanessa swallowed as she looked at the face of her father, “DAD!” She sprinted towards her dad and hugged him. Her father held on to her tightly as he hugged her like no tomorrow. “What are y’all doing here?” She as she let go of her dad and hugged her mom quickly. Vanessa wiped her tears as her boyfriend reappeared at her side.
Jackson held out the flowers to Vanessa’s mom, “These are for you for coming all the way out her.” He extended his hand out to her dad, “Hello, I’m Jackson Wang. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, sir” he introduced himself respectfully.
Vanessa’s dad took his hand in his and pulled him into a hug, “We hug in this family, son!” He patted Jackson’s back hard, “Thank you, Jackson, for taking care of my princess.”
When Vanessa’s dad released Jackson, Jackson looked at his girlfriend with a giant grin. He was excited that her family had already accepted him as part of the family. He lead the family out to the car and took the suitcase from Vanessa’s mom as the two women caught up with one another.
Part II || Part III
Credit to gif owners
Written & revamped by Squirrelly831
♕ REQUEST
☮ GOT7 MASTERLIST
∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST
#got7#got7 scenarios#got7 reactions#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#mark#mark reactions#jaebum#jaebum reactions#jackson#jackson reactions
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R I N G
I knew from the second I saw her that I would ask her to marry me. We met on the subway on day in March. All the cars were full, as usual, and I was running late, as usual, so I had to squeeze in where ever I could. I managed to get on the train just as the doors were closing. I had a huge meeting that day and I really tried to wake up earlier and be on time but I managed to fuck it up again. So there I was, between an old man who smelled like urine and her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever set my eyes on. She had chestnut brown hair that made me long to run my hands through it. Her eyes were green as emeralds and somehow managed to twinkle in the overhead artificial light. She dressed smart, in a dark burgundy pant suit and wore shoes with enough heel to give her a couple extra inches. Her smell was almost enough to over-power the urine man standing to my right but I’ll be honest, the man reeked. I leaned closer to her to whiff her perfume. She smelled of warmth. Like a fire on a cold October night. You know the night, when you’re gathered around with your loved ones and you roast marshmallows and pound cheap beer and revel in your youth? That’s how she smelled. I leaned even closer and sniffed again. I closed my eyes and imagined sitting around that fire with her in my arms and us drinking a bottle of red wine and looking at the stars. At the peak of my whiff she shifted her weight to her other foot, as she did her head bashed into my nose and mouth. I accidentally bit my lip and started to bleed.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” She said to me. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of tissues. “Here, are you okay?” She handed one to me. I put it to my lip and looked at it. There was quite a lot of blood on it.
“I’m fine, really.” I said. I hoped I was playing it cool enough. I don’t think she realized I was so close to her because I was smelling her. At least I prayed she didn’t realize I was so close to her because I was smelling her.
“Are you sure? I’m so sorry. I didn’t see how close you were behind me.” She said. There was no hint of suspicion in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s just a little bit crammed this morning.” I laughed. To my surprise, she laughed back.
“It always is, isn’t it? I keep telling myself I’ll wake up earlier and not have to squeeze into the train like a sardine in a tin but I just love my sleep.” She smiled at me. I nearly melted.
“I keep saying the same thing!” I exclaimed.
“I’m Jenny.” She introduced herself.
“Tom.” I replied as the train came to a stop.
“Well, this is me.” She said suddenly shy. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Tom.”
“I sure hope so.” I said. She blushed and left the train. As she walked away she turned back and looked at me again. I gave her a small wave and a smile. She smiled back and kept walking.
When I got to work and walked into the conference room, everything I had planned to say vanished from my brain. All I could think about was Jenny. I managed to stumble through the meeting and when it was over I returned to my desk and sat down.
“Dude, what the fuck?” My co-worker Brian said to me, “You just blew any chance we had at getting that deal.”
“Brian,” I said, “There’s more important things in this life.”
“More important? There’s nothing more important than this.” He said. “What the fuck’s gotten into you?”
“I’m in love.” I told him matter-of-factly.
“You’re in love?” He scoffed at me. “Is this like when you were in love with Sarah? Or Paula? Or any other random chick you meet on the street and obsess over?”
“This is the real deal.” I told him sternly. “I’m not fucking around.” Brian had made me angry with his mention of Sarah and Paula. “Don’t you have shit to do? Can you leave?”
“Whatever, dude.” He did as I hoped and walked away from my desk and left me in peace to think about Jenny.
The next morning I woke up at the same time and did my morning routine exactly as I could remember it from the day before. I wanted to get on the same car at the same time so I would run into Jenny again. When I got to the station and the train came through, I saw her. She was on the same train in the same spot and my heart fluttered. I rushed into the crowd and squeezed into the train taking my spot right next to her.
“Fancy seeing you here.” I told her. She looked up and smiled.
“It is, isn’t it?” She asked. We talked the whole ride and when she got off this time she left me with her phone number. I couldn’t believe my luck. This couldn’t be just luck I thought this was fate.
I floated through the day again not accomplishing much except writing drafts of the first text I’d send to Jenny. I wanted to make sure it was the perfect first text. When I got home I finally sent the text. It read, “Hi Jenny, it’s Tom. Would you like to grab a drink tonight?” She answered within ten minutes and said she’d love to. I told here where and when to meet me and started to get ready.
When I got to the bar, she was waiting outside. She looked incredible. She wore a black dress with no sleeves and a plunging neck line that showed me more of her than I’d seen the past two days. She hugged me when I walked over to her.
“Tom! Long time no see.” She winked at me. I took her hand and led her into the bar. We drank and talked and laughed all night. When the time came to leave she took my hand and told me she wished the night didn’t have to end. I told her it didn’t and brought her back to my apartment. That first night we spent together was amazing. We made love like I’ve never done before and after she slept in my arms. We woke up together the next morning and made love again. The spark between us was palpable. We both called off of work that day and spent it together. Mostly in bed and mostly naked but occasionally leaving the room to get food or use the bathroom. It was the first of many days I wanted to spend with her.
“This has been just incredible.” I told her when she was finally getting dressed to go back to her apartment that evening.
“It really was, wasn’t it?” She agreed with me. I walked her to the door and kissed her goodbye. “See you on the train tomorrow?” She asked me.
“I’ll be there.” I assured her. And that’s how it went. The next three months we saw each other every morning on the train. Sometimes she slept at my house and we got on at my station. Sometimes I slept at her house and we got on at her station. Other times we slept separately and met each other in our normal spots on our normal subway car. After those three months I asked Jenny to move in. She seemed a bit overwhelmed at first but after she considered it, she agreed. We moved her into my apartment over the next three weeks.
I had never been happier and Jenny seemed pretty happy, too. We made love every night and woke up in each other’s arms every morning. I couldn’t imagine my life without her and that’s when I knew I should propose.
I waited another two months before I finally popped the question. I spent weeks figuring out the best way to do it and what kind of ring to buy. I decided on a 1-1/4 carat 14K white gold ring that cost me about ten grand. I didn’t mind though, Jenny was worth the money I spent on it. I made a plan to cook her dinner one night. I would make her favorite meal, duck confit, and buy the most expensive bottle of red wine that I could find.
“Jenny, clear your schedule tonight. I want to make you dinner.” I told her that morning.
“Dinner, huh? Trying to wine and dine me?” She joked. I kissed her cheek and tickled her stomach.
“Every day of my life.” She laughed and told me she would. We both got ready for work and headed to the station. I kissed her goodbye as she got off and I waited for the next stop to get off the train myself. I jumped on the next train that headed back to my apartment so I could get everything started for that night.
I spent hours in the kitchen ensuring each detail was exactly as I wanted it. By the time Jenny got home that night, I had dinner ready, wine airing out to be poured, the ring in my pocket, and candles lit.
“Tom! Oh my God!” She gasped as she walked in the door. “What is all this?” She asked.
“I just wanted to do something special for you. To tell you how much I really love you.” I told her.
“Well, let me go get changed. I can’t eat dinner in this.” She said and walked to the bedroom. I poured us wine as she got dressed and when she walked out she was wearing the black dress from our first date. I handed her a glass of wine and toasted her.
“To us.” I said, “I love you, Jenny.”
“I love you too, Tom.” She replied and clinked her glass with mine. I led her to the table and pulled out her chair motioning for her to sit. She did and I pushed in the chair while she sat down. I walked over to the record player. I grabbed the Naima record from Les Double Six and French Jazz filled the room. I walked back into the kitchen and plated the food.
“Do you need any help?” Jenny called from the other room.
“No! Stay where you are.” I yelled back. I carefully carried both plates to the table and sat down myself.
“Duck confit? I knew I smelled that when I walked in.” She smiled at me. “Thank you, Tom. This is so sweet of you.” I grabbed her hand across the table and kissed her fingers gently.
“I would do anything for you.” I told her. We ate dinner and quietly chatted just enjoying each other’s presence and the jazz playing through the speakers. When we finished eating we sat and drank our wine. When we had drained our glasses I promptly got up to refill them. I pulled the box out of my pocket. I quietly dropped the ring into her glass and covered it with the wine. I hadn’t realized it wasn’t super obvious through the dark wine and the dim candle light but I had already gotten this far. I couldn’t back down now. I carried our drinks back to the table and handed her the glass with the ring. I toasted her one last time and sipped my wine. Jenny took a sip from her wine as well but the ring hadn’t moved from the bottom of the glass. I began to clear the plates from the table.
When I took the plates from the table to the kitchen, Jenny must have finished her wine. She didn’t realize there was a ring at the bottom of her glass and she had just downed the whole thing. Her throat was open enough to allow the ring to go down but the diamond that protruded scratched her throat and the ring got stuck halfway down. I didn’t know she was silently choking on the ten thousand dollar ring I had bought her. I loaded the dishwasher with the dirty plates. By the time I reentered the living room Jenny’s face was pressed into the table. I ran over and pulled her head back.
“Jenny?” I asked her. She didn’t reply. “Jenny?” I yelled louder. “Oh, my God, Jenny.” Tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to slap her awake but it didn’t work. The love of my life, my future wife, Jenny, she was dead. I looked at her empty wine glass and saw the lump in her throat. It was my entire fault she had died.
I pulled her off of the chair and she slumped to the ground with a thud. Her once full of life body had not an ounce left in her. I took her head and held it in my lap and I cried. My tears spilled over my face and fell onto hers. I rocked her back and forth and listened to the rest of the record play. When it was done the needle kept spinning.
Colleen Burke
10.2.2019
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Dear @aph-switzerland-fanclub, I’m your secret santa for the @aphsecretsanta exchange! Sorry that it took me so long to get done ^^; but I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you like it too! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! <3
Title: Like Your Eyes are Like Liquor (Your Body is Gold)
Pairing: Switzerland/America
Word Count: 3855
Rating: G
Chosen Prompts: Fixing a lonely heart, “You see the good in me,” Christmas
Summary:
Individual and independent but not alone any longer.
“What do you mean he’s not coming?” America’s voice bordered on hysterical—he could hear it crack and winced. A black weight settled at the base of his throat, choking him from the inside out.
The woman he was talking to, a short, red-head with a severe jaw line, sighed. Her security badge marked her as the newest chief of staff—the staff had been coming and going so often lately he couldn’t remember who worked where. Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed again before pulling out a file tucked under her arm. She flipped through it for a moment then handed him a cream-colored sheet of paper.
“I’m really sorry, but the President requested I tell you that he won’t be coming to the party. You could always ask the VP couldn’t you?”
The weight in his throat sunk to his stomach. Shaking his head, he said, “No, he’ll be at home with his family. I guess I’ll just have to go alone.”
She reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but her touch made his skin crawl. Walking back to his desk, he began collecting his papers and shoving hurriedly into his bag, “That’s—it’s fine. Just go.”
She nodded and made to leave; America, shoving his coat on and throwing his bag over his shoulder, breezed through the door after her, locking it behind him. The walk from his White House office to his house wasn’t that far, but the late December wind whipped through DC’s wide streets, its cold fingers digging into the seams of his coat. Burrowing his face in its sherpa lining, he ducked through the evening crowds headed to the airports and Union station and their homes. The glow of the street lamps highlighted the softly falling flakes—he forgot it was supposed to snow today.
Fumbling with the key, he managed to open and shut the heavy oak door to his townhouse. America kicked off his dress shoes, dropping his bag with a thud to the ground next to them. He slung his coat on the back of an easy chair as he padded into the kitchen. Fixing himself a whisky and coke and warming up the last of the leftovers in his fridge, he noticed a blinking red light on his answering machine. (He could never quite bring himself to ditch the landline—it came in handy when keeping up with his older human friends who struggled with cell phones.)
Canada’s voice filtered out, strong and warm, “Hey America, I hope I catch you before you fly out to Switzerland’s. My boss’s whole family is coming to the party, so they’ll be staying together. If you want to room together, let me know, eh? I’ll be there tomorrow evening. Call me back if you get this.
After ladling chicken and dumplings onto a plate, America grabbed the phone out of the cradle and curled up on the couch. Dialing Canada’s number, he shoved a forkful in his mouth, choking a little when Canada picked up almost immediately.
“America? Is that you?”
Swallowing hastily, America said, “Yeah, I got your message.”
“What’re your plans then? You okay with staying together?”
America nodded, even though he knew Canada couldn’t see him, “Yeah, turns out my boss isn’t coming.”
There was a pause on Canada’s end, “Not at all?” His voice was that neutral, soothing tone he used when trying not to upset someone. America never liked being on the receiving end of it. He blew a huff of air up at his bangs.
“Yeah, didn’t give a reason either. Just isn’t coming. So, you and I can stay together. I just don’t know how this is gonna look to everyone.” The black weight settled in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m sure Justin wouldn’t mind if you walked in with us. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
Heat prickled at his eyes. He didn’t deserve Canada sometimes. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it. I’ll be in to Geneva around seven local time. I can wait for you at the airport.”
Canada laughed, “I’ll be in at seven too. Wait for me outside of customs. We can grab a taxi together. Try not to worry, eh? It’ll be fine. It’s just a weekend.”
“I’ll try. See you tomorrow, bro. ‘Night.”
“Good night, America.”
The dial tone buzzed in his ear.
“America! I’m over here!” America turned to see Canada waving at him. He jogged over to him, duffle slapping against the back of his knees. America threw his arms around Canada, pulling him close.
“God, I missed you. Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving.” America said, muffled in Canada’s heavy down jacket.
“You know, technically, in the grand scheme of being nations, a few weeks isn’t that long.”
“Yeah, but it’s a long, god awful couple of weeks. You know how it is.”
Canada hugged him back, “Yeah, I do know. Now, let’s get to the hotel. I think Switzerland is having drinks for all the nations tonight. Give everyone a moment away from the bosses.”
“Oh, thank God. I need a fucking drink.” America said as they made their way out of the airport and hailed a taxi. The hotel was a ways away from the airport, so they settled in catching up—mostly America bitching about the state of affairs and Canada cracking jokes to lighten the mood.
Canada checked them into the hotel while America paid the taxi driver, slipping into German as easily as breathing. The driver looked a little puzzled at his accent but accepted payment anyway; America forgot that the German settlers in Pennsylvania had, in their own way, developed their own version of the language, and it could be incomprehensible to some native speakers.
He hauled both his and Canada’s duffles up into the elevator and into their room, flinging them onto one of the double beds. Canada opened the blinds letting in some light from the street below.
“Nice view,” he said. Switzerland booked a block of rooms on the top floor of the hotel; their window overlooked most of Geneva. America could see out overtop the rust coloured rooftops towards the lake. The city twinkled with Christmas lights, powdered with late December snow.
America turned and began digging around in his duffle. With a little, triumphant smile, he pulled a tie and button-up shirt out. “I’m gonna get changed out of these airplane clothes then we can head down together, yeah?” He said.
Canada nodded, settling into a chair with his laptop. “That’s fine,” he said, “I’ve got some paperwork to do, so take all the time you need.”
The hotel had a small ballroom where Switzerland had a set up a bar with a few tables. The room itself was dripping with twinkling lights and laden with garlands and holly. Tea candles flickered and reflected against the white tablecloths. America stood at the threshold of the room, watching the other nations laugh and talk. In the center of the room, Luxembourg whirled Belgium around in a makeshift dance floor to the European pop music playing.
Canada touched his elbow, “C’mon let’s go.”
America allowed Canada to guide him to the bar. America flipped through the cocktail list while Canada ordered a beer. Glancing up, the bartender met his eyes, clearly bored and awaiting his order.
“I’ll take a scotch, neat,” he said. The bartender didn’t so much as acknowledge that he heard America before turning around and pouring his drink into a heavy glass. America barely took a sip before he heard a tinkling sound echo around the room. Music dimming, Switzerland stood at the front, tall and proud in his military dress. America distinctly felt underdressed in his shirt and obnoxiously-festive tie that Michelle had given him as a gag gift a few Christmases ago.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Thank you all for coming. I trust you’re all looking forward to the main party tomorrow. In the morning, we’ll start our last conference for the year. We’ll review how close we came to our goals that we laid out in January. For now, please enjoy tonight.” He paused, giving a rare smile. “Liechtenstein spent a long time working on the details on this weekend. I’ll be around if any of you need to speak with me.” From a nearby table, America spied Liechtenstein looking proud, a hint of colour to her cheeks.
Raising his glass, he called, “To a great 2018! Prost!”
Around him, the other nations raised their glasses, cheering. Looking down at his glass, he swirled the amber liquid round and round, accidentally sloshing a little on his shoe. A hot, anxious cloud pressed in on his head; a wave of dizziness fell over him, and he stumbled forward a step.
Canada rushed forward, “Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I think I just need some air,” he replied, shaking off Canada, handing him his glass, and slipping back out the door. The hallway was blissfully cool and empty. A window on the side had a little ledge, just enough that America could sit and rest his head against the cool glass. Listening to the sounds emanating from the ballroom, America allowed his eyes to close. He took a few deep breaths, trying to quell the buzzing in his head.
“America? Are you alright?”
America sat upright. Switzerland stood hesitantly in front of him, brows knitted together.
“Of course. I just, uh. Had to make a call.”
Switzerland’s mouth flattened into a line, “I’m sure. It’s just, you left quite quickly, and it is my job as host to make sure everyone’s okay. Also, Canada came to me and said that you might be upset.”
“Ugh, Canada.” America said, hanging his head.
“Ja,” was all Switzerland said in reply. He crossed the few feet between them and sat next to America on the window ledge.
“Yesterday, Liechtenstein informed me that your boss wasn’t coming to the party. I knew then that this would probably be a difficult weekend for you.”
“What? No, I’ve been to plenty of events alone.” He forced a laugh, watching Switzerland cringe out of the corner of his eye; apparently the laugh sounded faker than he intended. “Why would this one be any different?”
“I think we both know that’s shit.”
America met Switzerland’s gaze, intense and serious as always. It wasn’t often that he cursed like that, so casually. All the decades America had known Switzerland, he kept himself reserved and formal. It came in handy during negotiations when Switzerland mediated for America with Iran or Cuba, able to shut down even the most tense situations with a single, cool look. Now though, America felt it forcing the truth out of him.
He sighed, body hanging forward, staring down at his hands. “I guess. Well. Everything that’s been happening. It’s isolating. Every conference, I feel you guys staring at me. And I can’t just disappear for a while like I used to. I could just go out west for a while. I feel like now if I even look away for a minute, everything’s gonna fall apart.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if I disappear? What if this is just the beginning?”
“America,” Switzerland’s voice was razor sharp, “I’ve lived for millenia. I’ve lived through the plague, fought through hundreds of wars, and seen the rise and fall of dynasties that lasted longer than you’ve been alive. You’re not going to disappear. There’s too much of all of us in you.
“Think about it—all the thousands of immigrants from our lands who migrated to you, all on a dream. You’re more than your government. We all are. Nations exist because of our people.” Switzerland stood up, offering a hand out to America. “Let’s go back inside and have a drink. I think there are some nations who want to see you”
America took the outstretched hand and stood. For a moment, the two of them faced each other, a hair's breadth apart, hands touching. Switzerland’s gaze curiously flickered between America’s lips, eyes, and the window. Switzerland’s hand moved to hold America’s wrist, thumb stroking the soft inside of it. America felt his stomach drop.
Someone behind them cleared their throat. Startled, America looked over Switzerland’s head to see Liechtenstein standing in the doorway, feet shuffling and picking at the hem of her sleeve.
“Brother?” she said in her quiet way.
Switzerland released America’s wrist, turning around on his heel, as if doing a military drill. “Yes? Is something the matter?”
“No, I was just making sure you were okay. Are you two coming back inside?”
America spoke up, “We were heading back just now. Come on, let’s go.” He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, trying to quell a tremor running through it. He strode ahead back into the ballroom and glittering Christmas decor. Plastering on a smile, he scanned the room for Canada who came bounding over him.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, handing America his sweating glass of scotch.
“Yeah, yeah. Switzerland talked to me—thanks for that, by the way.” Canada had the grace to look a little abashed.
America felt a touch on his elbow; Switzerland pointed towards a corner, “Lithuania has been waiting for you to arrive.” America saw Lithuania waving at him, gesturing him over.
“Thanks,” he whispered before disappearing off to see Lithuania. Switzerland nodded, turning to Canada who swept the two of them off to chat with France.
Returning to his room, America was pleasantly buzzed. Chuckling at Canada’s snarky jokes as they watched a dubbed-over movie on tv. Canada flopped on his bed, hair fanned around him.
“What did Switzerland talk to you about?” He asked, tone prodding and jovial, like when they were colonies, and he figured out America had a crush on the red-haired stableboy England hired.
“Oh, just. Nothing.” America tried for arch, pulling on a ancient sweatshirt emblazoned with “Harvard Class of ‘79.”
“Mhm,” Canada replied. “If you’re gonna be a hoosier about it, I won’t push.” Kicking off his dress shoes and curling up on his side, he watched America putter around the room, flicking the tv off with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
Disappearing into the bathroom, America shouted back, “I’m not being a hoosier. We really did talk about nothing. He just asked if I was okay.” He returned sleepy eyed and loose tongued—Canada had always been easy to talk to.
“You were gone for a while. Long enough that Liechtenstein went looking for you. And, she told me you were standing really close when she went out. Holding hands.”
America felt his cheeks pink up, wrist tingling where Switzerland had touched him.
Face gleeful, Canada sat up again, “So you were holding hands.”
Sputtering, America said, “No! No. Maybe? He was more holding my wrist.”
“Oh my God. When I told him to talk to you, I didn’t think he was gonna kiss you.”
“He didn’t! We didn’t. At least, I don’t think we were going to.” America felt an embarrassed twist in his guts at the thought. Had they been going to kiss? He tried to picture it: Switzerland’s strong, calloused hand on his waist, America leaning down a few inches and Switzerland up on his toes, America’s lips curling into a smile. His stomach swooped like he missed a step going down the stairs.
Canada snorted in disbelief, “Of course not.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re the most oblivious person ever. You wouldn’t know if someone was trying to kiss you until they actually did it.”
America slipped under the covers of his bed, placing his glasses on the side table. After plugging his phone into the charger, he finally replied, “Well that might be true, but what would Switzerland see in me? No nation’s shown any interest in me in like, 20 years.”
Canada looked at him sadly, mouth turned down. America couldn’t bear the weight of his gaze and turned on his side. He fell asleep without noticing Canada turning off the light and ignoring Canada’s soft, “Oh, America.”
Justin Trudeau had a kind smile and a charm that disarmed many tough leaders. His wife Sophie was the same. America watched Canada chat with them, dressed in a maroon blazer with his flag pin on the lapel. Around him, the other nations waiting anxiously for the beginning of the party—Russia with his grimdark president, England and his towering Prime Minister, Vietnam looking resplendent in her traditional dress on the arm of her own President. America shifted his weight from foot to foot, back pressed to the wall.
A burst of music signaled the beginning of the festivities; countries and their leaders lined up and began making their way inside. Bright laughter and cheers mingled with the crescendo of the music.
“America,” Trudeau said turning to face him, “Will you be alright walking in with us?”
“Yeah, thanks agai—”
“Actually, he’ll be walking in with me.” Switzerland interrupted him. He hadn’t even noticed when Switzerland walked up to them. He seemed to glow in his military dress, shoulders back and chin turned up in pride.
“That’s great. We’ll see you inside.” Canada and the Trudeau’s made their way inside, Canada shooting him a pointed Look over his shoulder.
America opened his mouth to say something but closed it resolutely when Switzerland raised a hand.
“My boss unfortunately came down with the flu this morning and is unable to make it tonight. I was thinking you and I could make the entrance together.” The toe of his shoe dragged along the marble floor. It rested beside America’s.
“That would be awesome.”
Switzerland held out the crook of his arm, face pointing forward, “I think it’s time.”
Lacing their arms together, they walked in step to the grand ballroom. This time held at Switzerland’s Federal Palace. As they entered the room, they were met with the shining eyes of the other nations and the splendor of the decorations. Dripping icicles and glittering lights. Deep greens of a tree, holly, and garland draped the edges of tables and chairs. Delicate ornaments hung off the Christmas tree at the head of the room, with a backdrop of Switzerland’s flag. On stage, a small band played traditional classical. America tried to snapshot the moment in his mind, it reminded him so much of the grand balls he attended once or twice, either trailing England’s coattails or on diplomatic missions as a fumbling young nation.
Switzerland caught him looking gobsmacked and boyishly jostled him, “I had nothing to with this. It was all Liechtenstein.” He subtly gestured his head over to where she was excitedly chatting with Latvia and Seychelles in a delicate egg-shell blue gown.
“You’re lucky you two are so close.” America said as Switzerland guided him towards the center of the dance floor, bewildered by the note of jealousy in his own statement.
“You have Canada. It is the same between us.” Switzerland looked up at him. “America?”
“Yes?” He could feel the spotlight of faces on him. He was present and individual and so very, very alone.
“Would you care to dance with me?” Switzerland asked, face incomprehensible, the glow of the room casting shadows along his delicate features. America knew him to be anything but delicate. The crook in nose from a break that happened 500 years ago, the scar on the back of his left hand from a sword, the way one leg had the slightest blink-and-you’d-miss-it limp from a bullet wound. America felt the immediate stretch of history and time between them.
“Yes. Of course.”
Switzerland took his hand and waist, guiding him into a waltz. It took America a few stumbling moments to remember the steps. The crescendo of the music cascaded over the two of them like a breaking wave. America was intimately reminded of standing on the New England coast, gazing out to sea and imagining himself in Europe—lapping waves at his feet, the taste of salt spray, towering trees behind him, alone and independent. As he had alway been. As he had always wanted. What if he could be European, he thought Would he be the same? That bond of shared history and civilization. He knew it could never be, the ocean that rushed in his ears was a constant reminder of that forever separation.
“You’re different than Europe,” America whispered.
Switzerland raised his eyebrows, “How so?”
“Y’all have this bond. You’ve been so tangled up since the beginning. But you. You’re neutral. And you hold onto that so fiercely. It’s— it’s admirable.”
“That’s kind of you to say. We all find ways to hold onto our humanity. It’s easy to let time erase what makes us different—or to let those differences turn into fractures. It’s difficult, I think, for us nations to find a middle. You, America, you’ve burned so bright for so long. You’re a torch we look to. Us Europeans may have a history, but we’ve allowed our differences to fracture too many times. Even today, this peace is fragile. I’ve admired your leadership—unafraid to stand alone when nobody else will stand with you.”
His throat burned, “Thank you.”
Switzerland looked up, met his wet eyes, “For what?”
America laughed, softly and far more relaxed than his usual ricocheting burst. Switzerland quirked a smile. They continued to sweep wide circles around the floor. A few other nations and leaders joined them.
“You see the good in me. Thanks. I’ve been alone for so long I think I lose sight of who I am.” The song slowed to a stop, the room echoed with claps. Switzerland pulled out of the room onto a little balcony. It overlooked Bern’s skyline. The cold winter air whipped around them, snow falling into their hair, dusting their shoulders, and smudging America’s glasses.
Switzerland held both of America’s hands in the cradle of his own. “America, I’ve never had many chances to do this, but I would like to spend more time with you. If you’d like. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for several months now, and I guess this will have to do.”
“It’s fine. It’s perfect. I’d like that a lot.” America tucked a piece of Switzerland’s hair behind his ear who scowled minutely at the tender gesture.
Switzerland, still holding one of America’s hands, began stroking his wrist—just as he had done last night, and America felt himself go weak at the knees.
Voice barely above a whisper, eyes half-lidded, America asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Switzerland nodded and said, “please.”
He leaned down and kissed him. A pleasing warmth flowed through like the first rays of summer sunshine on skin. Switzerland did indeed hold his waist, crinkling his suit jacket in his strong grip. The smell of his cologne made America dizzy who stepped closer, legs slotting together, chests pressed together. Cupping Switzerland's face, he paused to breathe. Together on that balcony in the midst of the lights and music and glamour, America could feel the soft edges of his heart knitting back together. A person who could stand with him, individual and independent but not alone any longer.
#AmeSwitz#aphsecretsanta#hetalia#aph-switzerland-fanclub#APH America#APH Switzerland#my content#fanfiction#my fanfiction
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"You know when your phone buzzes, it means I'm trying to talk to you, right?" Niles - cc
Here we are, my friend! Again, apologies for all of these prompts taking so long, but my uni film festival is next week and I’ll also be going on holiday so I’ve had things to prepare for. I should hopefully have the ones I have left to do done by then, though! Enjoy!
@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty
She didn’t know where he’d been, and quite frankly at thatpoint she didn’t care. What she really wanted to know was why Niles had felt itappropriate to apparently leave the house and go off by himself for what could’vebeen hours for all she knew, without leaving her a note of where he was goingand why.
He’d never not done that before, and the longer time wenton that she stayed indoors without any word or sign of his car, the more it had started to gnaw at her. Had he been hurt, and had to go tothe hospital? No, someone would’ve told her if that had happened. She toldherself not to be so ridiculous when her mind gave her an image of such a badaccident that he couldn’t be identified. He didn’t have to pick up the kidsfrom anywhere – she’d made sure the Sheffields were looking after their girlsthat night.
It happened to be a rather important day, the romantic inher had said. She’d spent ages setting it all up, and he was ruining it by notbeing there!
She’d called his cell phone, and he hadn’t picked up. She’dtried again, and still nothing. She’d ended up leaving him five missed callsand at least twice as many messages!
And yet the first she’d heard of him since she’d kissed himgoodbye that morning was as he made his sorry way up from the driveway, ontothe path up towards the front door, where she was leaning with her arms folded.
Part of her was relieved, but the rest of her was angry.
“You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying totalk to you, right?” she demanded as he got close. “I’ve been trying to getthrough to you, where’ve you been?!”
“I was driving, Babs!” he answered back, coming to a halt infront of her. “The roads were packed but it kept moving so much, I didn’t havetime to reach over and answer your message. Now, what was so important that Ishould have disregarded the law, and potentially crashed and totalled the car?”
“What was so important”! Apart from knowing whether or nothe was alive, she’d show him what was so important!
Taking him by the wrist to pull him into the house, she slammedthe door behind him and pulled him through into the kitchen and dining area.
She’d never done it by herself in her entire life, but she’dmanaged to set the table correctly – all the knives and forks were in theirright places, she’d dimmed the overhead lighting and lit their intimate mealfor two with a single candle. She’d even made sure it was scented!
And then there were the two covered plates, underneath ofwhich their two meals sat waiting to be eaten.
She gestured at the scene in frustration.
“There. Happyanniversary!” she shouted. “On this day, thirty years ago, I took thesecretarial position at Maxwell B. Sheffield Productions. I walked up thosesteps, rung the bell, and the door was opened by the biggest irritation my lifehas known ever since. The same irritation who can’t even pull over to answerthe phone when it’s clear that his wife wants to talk to him!”
She expected him to say something after that, but when shelooked at him, he was just staring with his mouth hanging open.
“Sweetheart, I…I don’t know quite what to say…!”
He was clearly more than surprised by it all. Maybe he’dforgotten it was even today? They hadn’t made a big thing out of it before(other occasions, like birthdays and marriage anniversaries, had always rankedhigher) but knowing each other for thirty years deserved remembering, in hermind.
Maybe it didn’t really matter, and she was making too muchof a fuss. It was probably becoming a bigger deal in her head because she’d beenso worried about where he was.
Well, that and she’d made an effort for nothing.
She turned away towards the table, letting go of his wrist.She didn’t feel angry anymore, just disappointed and a little sad.
“You don’t have to say anything, Niles,” she shook her headsoftly, and ran a finger over the edge of her cutlery. “It’s not really an anniversary,I just thought it might be nice to commemorate it, that’s all. But you got homelate, I was wondering where you were, starting to panic a little bit, and now…”
Now, he’d gotten home late, she’d yelled at him, and thewhole evening was spoiled. It had to be, didn’t it?
Niles didn’t say anything to fill the silence, but C.C.heard the rustling of the fabric of his jacket.
She peered over her shoulder, to see him taking a little boxout of the inside pocket.
A box designed for jewellery.
“What’s that?” she asked quietly, turning more so that shewas properly looking.
“It’s the reason I’m later than I thought I’d be,” Nilescame up behind her. “You’re not the only one who considers this a specialoccasion, Babs.”
He held out the box to press it gently into her hands.
“Happy anniversary, C.C..”
C.C. felt a shaky smile coming and tears starting to form asa warmth spread in her chest, “You remembered?”
“Of course I remembered, sweetheart!” Niles seemed almostoffended that she thought he’d forgotten. He held her upper arms, squeezingthem as he began to smile as well. “I know we haven’t made much of it before,but you didn’t honestly think I was going to let our thirty-year milestone passus by, did you?”
“No, I…I guess not…!” she actually couldn’t believe she’dbeen that much of an idiot to think he’d forget, but she wasn’t about to argue overthat.
Her husband rubbed his hands up and down her arms, “Why don’tyou open your gift?”
C.C. did so eagerly, gasping in surprise and delight at thedelicate necklace inside. The chain was white gold, and the pendant was a single,cream-coloured pearl – the traditional symbol of thirty years together.
“Niles…! It’s beautiful!” she nearly cried, turning aroundto face him properly. “Where did you get it?!”
“I’d ordered it from a place downtown, but there’d been anissue and it had accidentally been sent elsewhere,” Niles explained. “I’dintended on being back before you got home from work, but I had to make a quicktrip to Long Beach in order to rectify the mistake.”
All the way to Long Beach?! At that time of day, the traffichad probably been terrible down that end of the metropolis. No wonder he’d beengone so long! And if it had really been the fault of the jewellers, sending hergift off somewhere else, then he’d had no choice but to go after it!
“Some mistake…!” she chuckled. She then reached up to cuphis cheek in one hand. “I love you.”
Niles responded by pulling her into his arms and huggingher.
“I love you, too,” he murmured, kissing a patch of skin closeto her ear. “I’m sorry for not leaving a note, telling you that I was goingout.”
C.C. wound her arms around his neck, “And I’m sorry forgiving you the third degree when you got back.”
“You’re more than forgiven,” she could hear the smile in hisvoice as he spoke, and they held each other for a few more seconds before he pulledaway. “Now, let’s get this on you. I’d ask if the gold was so shiny you couldsee your face in it, but then I remembered that you don’t have a reflection.”
C.C. raised an eyebrow, but turned around anyway and lifted upher hair.
“Careful, Butler Boy. Sex was almost off the table oncetonight,” she warned him playfully.
Niles slipped the necklace onto her, and clipped it togetherat the back.
“Apologies, my dearest darling wife,” he kissed her cheek, andthen walked around in front of her to admire the view. “It looks as wonderfulon you as I imagined it would.”
She smirked back at him, “That’s more like it.”
She leaned into him to peck him on the lips, and when theypulled away Niles glanced at the table.
“What have youordered for dinner?”
C.C. blinked at him, “Why’d you say ‘ordered’? I might’vecooked it myself!”
There was a pause at that, during which Niles gave her aquestioning look. It made her crumble before she could keep up the pretence.
“Alright, even I didn’t believe that one,” she said,starting to smile again. “It’s from the little Italian place that we like.”
“Oh,” Niles sounded interested, and he took her hands inhis. “Do you need me to open up the wine?”
“Already uncorked and breathing. It’s on the counter,” sheindicated to the bottle and two glasses with her head.
Niles let go of her hands, and staged a small bow, “I willbring it over presently.”
With a low laugh, she patted him on the behind as he went inthat direction, “Atta boy – let those serving instincts kick in, Hazel.”
He raised an eyebrow at her in return as he walked by, “Careful,Babs – you’re not the only one who gets to decide if sex is off the tabletonight.”
C.C. rolled her eyes, seating herself at the table, “Oh,please; the only time the words “sex” and “off the table” have been in the samesentence for you is that one time we started on top of a table and fell off!”
“You’re worth every bump and bruise that it caused,” he croonedover his shoulder at her.
“Sap,” she leaned against her chair, biting back a grin. “Getthe wine – if you’re gonna be like this during dinner, I’m gonna need alcohol.”
“Right away, dear,” Niles blew her a kiss. “And in a littlewhile, perhaps we can see just how “off the table” we can get…?”
She knew that a dirty laugh was the only reply he needed. Afterthirty years of knowing each other, ten years of marriage, and three children, sometimeswordless replies were enough.
They’d certainly be so later, when they’d show each otherjust how much each decade had meant, and how much they were looking forward tothe ones still to come.
#anon asks#the nanny#niles and cc#niles the butler#cc babcock#otp: always been bitter together#otp: butler bitch
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#20! Tenor Group
Hahahahaaaaaaa I accidentally kinda went off on this one. I have another idea for a shorter one, but who knows if I’ll get to writing it down. Anyway, I spent way too long on this hope you like it :B
For once, all six of them were together, walking down a far too chilly hallway on a floor higher up than their own floor in the Tenor Building. Because of the separate elevators for different stretches for floors, they had assumed the elevators for the stretch of floors above them simply didn’t connect to their floor (or, in Bosh’s opinion, they didn’t exist). The suit who had come to get them, however, had opened a panel and inserted a key and suddenly they were going up.
It was hard to avoid the conclusion that they were in trouble.
“You shouldn’t have gone in on that bank robbery,” Bosh hissed at Seth’s back. This wasn’t smart, since the vast majority of her road rash received during said bank robbery was on the backs of her arms, making her somewhat sensitive to changes in the air behind her. Also, it was unwise generally, because in her extremely short words on the matter yesterday, she had been ‘having trouble regulating heat.’
Decon, in his head, had likened it to speaking near a guttering candle – every breath moved the flame. Except it wasn’t very apt, because instead of going out, the flame reared up and swallowed your face.
At this moment, however, she chose not to respond.
“We aren’t supposed to have anything to do with crime-fighting, or whatever the fu–”
“Bosh,” Decon said.
“Fuck off with that propriety shit, Decon, you two just blew our whole future here—”
Fir pushing past him to take the lead stopped his talk – or maybe it was the slightly obnoxious smell of the black licorice from the bag cradled in his arm. “He’s not correcting your potty mouth, he’s trying to make sure she doesn’t fry you before we get to the boardroom.”
“You assholes haven’t ruined my chances,” Julie said. “Or you better not have, because if you have…”
“Julie, you weren’t even there,” Decon said gently. “There’s no way you’ll be held responsible.”
Looking no less sour, Julie pressed her lips together and looked away. The others were thinking of upgrading their estimation of Decon’s abilities to include disagreeing with Julie without the situation escalating.
“Yeah,” Firmament offered, walking backward in front of the group and speak around the strand of the licorice wheel he was unpeeling, “the ol’ man nee’s you to make ‘im nukes or whatever anyway. ’S just us.”
“The fuckup trifecta!” Bosh cried.
“Wes was there,” Decon said.
“Wes didn’t fuck up. He doesn’t have any powers, he can just go back to a normie or whatever.”
Everyone (except Julie, who disdainfully looked the opposite direction) looked at Wes. Wes shrugged.
“It’s not fucking up to help people,” Fir drawled. “Anyway, nobody used their powers,” his eyes slid over to Seth, “proveably, anyway.”
Decon saw the candle flicker vividly in his mind. Not for the first time, he had reason to marvel at the human tendency to just stop and watch, say, an explosion, rather than running for their lives. Otherwise he was mentally joining Wes in a contemplation of what, in fact, would happen to Wes should he lose the sponsorship of the group. At this point, going back into the care of Dr. Hardwick, however vital she was to him, was not promising. Unlike Firmament, he had disposed of all of his scrubs.
“It is when there’s a fucking law, or congressional act… thingie, or amendment, or whatever to keep you from doing it! Or else what was our fearless leader’s big talk about ‘not raising concerns’ or ‘keeping a low profile’ or whatever that nonsense–”
“Bosh,” Fir said, “she is going to set you on fire.”
Because Bosh could check on the reality of that statement, and he did, he stopped talking.
“How is there this long of a fucking hallways in this building,” Firmament said, turning slowly as he walked. “Who actually has big, dark, secret boardrooms at the tops of towers? I feel like we’re going to fight a wizard, not get a scolding from our boss,”
“A scolding would be lucky,” Seth said.
Everybody stopped talking.
It was a long and quiet walk.
*
There was an anteroom to the board room that made it feel like they were being decontaminated before entering a delicate environment. All glass walls but for the one with the door, which helped the light fight against the abyssal darkness of the polished black walls and floors. The normal stream of inane music which occupied Bosh’s thoughts had given way to the ominous sound of Darth Vadar breathing, though amazingly he hadn’t mentioned it to anybody.
A secretary got up to greet them without saying a word. He took out his phone and silently indicated turning of the volume, prompting them all to check, and by way of suggestion making all of them subconsciously concerned they were breathing too loud. Julie’s sneakers made a noise on the floor, and she actually looked mortified, rather than as if it was somehow their faults for hearing it. Seth’s grim silence had evolved into the rocky, thousand-yard-stare of a political veteran about to not just bite the hand that feeds, but potentially tear it off at the wrist.
Firmament found Seth inspiring. Decon was putting together a list of contacts and organizations he knew of to help everyone get resettled after they were fired, particularly Wes. Wes was trying to remember the supposed difference between “Ice Ice Baby” and “Under Pressure”.
The secretary, using signals only perceivable to himself, waited until the proper moment to slide open the completely silent black glass door. Firmament barely managed to stop himself from asking who the hell would have a completely opaque black glass door. He was allowed to take his licorice in, so he thought it best not to push it.
Now there was a lot of light, since the boardroom seemed to be in a corner of the building. They had a magnificent view of the city, right down to the water, fog, and bridges. The only pieces of furniture in the room were a hideously large black conference table with equally large black chairs, and a tiny rolling service with an airpot of coffee and a pitcher of water on it at some arbitrarily declared but somehow aesthetic distance from said table.
Mr. Tenor was on the phone.
Rather, a voice was coming out of the weird plastic star on the conference table with a phone-like quality, as Mr. Tenor sat at the end of the table, steepling his fingers and listening. He motioned for them to sit.
Seth stalked stiff-legged to his right hand, while the rest of them trailed after, reluctantly admitting to themselves that this wasn’t a moment that would allow them to sit at the back of the class. On his right were Seth, Bosh, and Decon; on his left, Fir, Wes, and Julie.
The voice on the phone was saying, “We’re old friends, we go back a long ways, and I just want the situation to be clear between us.”
“Yes,” Mr. Tenor said.
“You know I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t facing just the utmost pressure, just the greatest possible… it’s really tough, you know?”
“Yes,” Mr. Tenor said.
“And, you know, I use my influence wisely on your behalf. You wouldn’t appreciate me just throwing it all away to fight for a dead cause.”
“Yes,” Mr. Tenor said.
There was a pause. The sound of various rustlings, a hesitant breath taken that turned into a politely quieted cough. The pause dragged.
“So… so you see what I’m saying, don’t you?” the voice on the phone asked.
“Of course, Senator,” Mr. Tenor said.
Even Seth got a little pale at that one.
“So… I mean, I have to take this course of action. My hands… I’m really… my hands are really tied.”
“Of course they are,” Mr. Tenor said.
There was another pause.
“So…?” the voice on the phone said.
“So, let us be absolutely clear,” Mr. Tenor said. “The next thing you plan to do is to make a speech to Congress decrying the actions of a group of young people under my care. You anticipate their possession of special abilities will somehow mitigate the damaging effects of a United States Senator taking a group of teenagers who risked their lives to save others to task on a national stage. You also expect that this will mitigate the effects of the federal government bringing its full power to bear in prosecuting children…”
“Not the full power – and not the Feds, not really…”
“No, Senator, it will be the federal government. It was the federal government who put this law into effect regarding their conduct, and I will want no less than the full power and discretion of the federal government put into effect on their behalf. If you think for a moment, Senator, I will allow this to stay on a state level, where any number of factors will interfere in the absolute impartiality of judgement, you are much mistaken. You see, too many people know me in this state, Senator. You are not the only one, Senator. And there are only more people the further down the hierarchy we go. I could not allow the judgement of these young people to rest in the hands of those compromised by familiarity, for the sake of the comfort of a small and personal stage. Oh, no, Senator, I will not. The only direction this goes, is up.”
Seth was decidedly pale. Even Firmament had a disarming seriousness to his gaze. It was good nobody knew what Wes was thinking.
The voice on the phone had not expected Mr. Tenor to pause. “…I… this is really unprecedented, Mr. Tenor, I don’t see what you expect…”
“It will be good to set the precedent, Senator,” Mr. Tenor said. “I am always pleased to help.”
“I… this is all… I meant, intentions are all well and good, Mr. Tenor, but I’m not sure the Feds will be interested in pursuing…”
“I can assure you that they will be,” Mr. Tenor said.
Another pause happened. Decon caught Julie’s eye and held it, taking long, slow, breaths, which she soon began to imitate. Bosh’s knuckles were white on the table edge, so in accord was everyone except Mr. Tenor; his empathy, as usual, found Mr. Tenor like a clouded sea, the waves of which pushed him away, whereas the others he felt like still, clear water. The contrast was making him seasick.
“Look, this really doesn’t have to be this big of an issue,” the voice said, more combative than it had been.
“You and your colleagues made it this big an issue when you put the Acts into effect, Senator. It was a nice way to do something about regulating the actions of Islanders after the fact, and in a lull in which you would not be forced to face the consequences of your actions – but now, here we are. And if you are prepared to argue that a seventeen year old girl who was shot and nearly buried under rubble deserved to take no actions in her defense despite her ample ability to defend herself, I am prepared to make sure those arguments are heard by everyone who have been living under the Acts that make it so.”
“That’s not even the question,” the voice said, “that’s not even the direction we’re going to take this…”
“Oh, but it is. Because it cannot help but be relevant to the question of why that building came down on her in the first place when she had with her another young man perfectly capable of preventing it, who legally could not.”
“You use ‘young man’ a little freely, don’t you? That ‘young man’ should be safely locked up,” the voice spat, “there is no evidence that the building coming down isn’t his fault in the first place, and it’s not like he doesn’t have a history…”
“There will be evidence that it is not, Senator,” Mr. Tenor said. “As should be expected, I have people gathering the facts of the matter as soon as they are available. I have it on good word from my friends in the bomb squad that there is no evidence implicating Firmament.”
“Regardless,” the voice said, “there was no reason for them to be there in the first place…”
“At one of my banks? Where they have some of their savings from my program invested?”
There was another pause. Now, Seth just looked slightly guilty.
“People died, Mr. Tenor,” the voice said. “We can’t ignore that people died…”
Seth paled again. Firmament sat up in his chair such that Mr. Tenor’s gaze actually flicked to him, acknowledging his agitation.
“Criminals died, Senator, in the commission of a crime. Shot by their own weapons in the confusion. And people lived, Senator, because of my team.”
“So you admit it, then, Tenor? This is a team – this is your way of setting up a new wave of violent vigilante justice teams, using children–”
“They are my team,” Mr. Tenor said, his voice dropping, “because they are my children. I have taken responsibility for them. Both their parents and the various entities with guardianship have been assured of no less from me than to treat them as my own. We are working together to do something important, something good – doing something, rather than the nothing the rest of the nation has done by hiding under the covers and pretending Islanders don’t exist, denying them both acknowledgement and aid because you are afraid – acting as if you could legislate away their abilities by forbidding them to use them, on pain of prosecution. It is unfair, Senator, and it is inhumane, and I won’t allow it to happen to my children, and I will gladly stand before the nation and insist it should never happen to anyone.”
The silence stretched, not even a rustling on the other side, just the quiet buzz of the phone still operating.
“This was a courtesy call,” the voice said sharply. “I shouldn’t have even informed you. I’ve done this a favor for all that you’ve done for me in the past…”
“Thank you,” Mr. Tenor said.
There was another pause. A sigh. “I… so we’re good then?”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Mr. Tenor said. Looking up at the team arrayed around him.
“Are you sure there’s no way… are you sure this is the course of action…”
“Absolutely.”
Another pause followed. It was like they could hear the sweat on the Senator’s brow. “I’m sorry you feel that way about it, Mr. Tenor, but maybe it you gave it some thought—”
“I’ll see you in Washington, Pat.”
Mr. Tenor pressed the button to end the call, then leaned back in his chair again. Everyone had nothing better to do for a few moments than to look at one another.
“Seth,” Mr. Tenor said, gently. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Seth said, when she was able to make her mouth not quite so dry. “I’m… better. Recovering very well.”
“I just want to make sure Susan’s come up and talked to you?”
“Yes,” Seth glanced nervously at the others, a blush rising, “I… I mean… Decon mentioned she visited. I mean to get down there, and… I definitely will take advantage of that counseling…”
She glanced at Decon, who with his usual pleasant forbearance gave no sign of what she had said, loudly, about his suggestions she take Susan up on her offer.
“Good, and thank you Decon,” he said, smiling. “Getting shot would have an effect on anyone, it’s really just a good idea to check in.” He glanced at Bosh. “It wouldn’t be too bad an idea for you, either, you know.”
“I wasn’t there,” Bosh said.
“I just mean in terms of sharing professional insights – you might just have things to learn from one another. It would be a shame not to take advantage of some of the resources you have here for exploring your own abilities.”
This wasn’t the first time Bosh had been told to do his homework, but it was perhaps the only time he hadn’t given a smart-assed response.
“And Decon,” Mr. Tenor smiled, “I just want to thank you for taking such an initiative in looking after your teammates.”
Decon nodded, with a little smile. Maybe he was referring to taking the sometimes literal heat for pushing Seth to go see the counselor. Maybe he meant illegally using his abilities to dig Seth out of the rubble at the bank. Decon had a feeling that there was a reason he’d been thanked twice.
“Firmament, I assume you’re feeling well,” Mr. Tenor said, gesturing at the bag of licorice wheels. Fir offered him one, which he declined with a smile.
“Good,” Mr. Tenor said. “It’s good to see everyone’s recovering.”
“Everyone who needs recovering,” Julie hissed. This signal return to form was like everyone getting to let out a long-held breath.
“I just wanted to check in,” Mr. Tenor said. “I’ve been lax. We should be having these slightly more often. It’s just been a little busy of late – and I know you all are busy. I wouldn’t want to stick my nose in.”
A bolt of unease shot through the four members of the fuckup trifecta. So, Mr. Tenor knew (or suspected) what they were up to…
“Julie, at some later point, I want to talk to you a little bit about expanding your research. I would like to see you more involved with the rest of your team – strictly within the bounds of what we have discussed with your lab of course. Perhaps just a more active, daily check in kind of research. Comings and goings. Environment changes, that sort of thing. Does that make sense?”
“We can discuss it,” Julie said, folding her arms and frowning.
Mr. Tenor smiled. “I can use the money at that bank to help fund this change in direction. I had only recently decided to open accounts for you there. Surely you must have seen notes I sent to that effect, which explains why you went down there in the first place.”
They all looked shame-facedly down at the table. Fir stuffed a licorice wheel in his mouth instead of saying, ‘No, Mr. Tenor, of course it wasn’t the news coverage of the robbery! They certainly didn’t run out half-cocked and unthinking to try to test themselves in a dangerous situation! It was a note. About their savings.’
Julie sniffed disdainfully. “Research. Sure.”
Mr. Tenor smiled at her. “Well, glad to see everyone’s doing so well. We’ll have another chat sometime soon.”
So dismissed, they all got up, shuffling at various speeds towards the door.
“Wesley,” Mr. Tenor called, as they exited.
Wes jogged back to the table.
“Wesley,” Mr. Tenor said, “At the bank...”
“Oh,” Wes said, once he understood Mr. Tenor’s hesitation, “Don’t worry. No fingerprints.”
Mr. Tenor nodded, and Wes left with the others, humming softly.
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power outage ✨ [task 10]
Savanna and Timothy were playing out in the barn when the power went out. At first, they didn’t think much of it. Fuses blew in there all the time, but it caught them both my surprise. “I can’t see.” Savvy said in an anxious voice. She was up in the hayloft coloring. “Hang on. I’ll flip the breaker. DC showed me how.” Timmy replied. He located the box and flipped the main breaker a couple of times… Nothing. “It’s not workin’!” He yelled out so Savanna could hear him. “I’m gonna come get ya, Savvy. Don’t be scared. I won’t let anythin’ bad happen.” The eight year old promised. He knew that Savanna had developed a recent fear of the dark and as her big brother, it was his job to take care of her.
“Where did all the light go?” Savvy asked when Timothy finally reached her. The barn had an emergency tote that contained blankets, flashlights, batteries, water, canned food, candles, and a ton of waterproof matches. Victoria never knew when she was going to need it, so she wanted to be prepared for anything. Timmy found the flashlights with ease and handed Savanna one as he helped her climb down from the loft. “I think the power went out. I don’t see any lights on inside neither. Help me bring this box inside ta mom.” The tote was too big for him to carry alone, but with Savanna’s help they were able to push it up to the back of the house. It wasn’t completely dark just yet, but dark clouds were rolling in and the winds were picking up. There was definitely a storm coming.
“Mommy! There is no more light in the barn.” Savanna said when she spotted Victoria in the kitchen. She was already lighting candles to put around the house. She knew she would need to be careful about their placement so Savvy and Timmy (or even one of the dogs) didn’t accidentally knock one over and burn the house down. “I don’t like this.” Savvy admitted. “Is it gonna be out forever?” She wrapped her arms around Victoria’s leg. It wasn’t typical of Savanna to be scared like this, but something changed in her the last time she went to David’s. Victoria still hadn’t gotten down to the root of it. “It’s just a storm, baby.” Vic smoothed her youngest’s hair down. “You’re safe in here, I promise.” Vic knew she would need to come up with a distraction for the little girl, so she gave her a job. “Why don’t you take your flashlight and collect all the batteries in the house? We’re going to need them.” Victoria didn’t know how long the power was going to be out, but she knew this storm was going to be a doozy. The lightning strike that took out the power for the entire town also took out cell phone towers. She couldn’t get through to anyone and Declan still wasn’t home which made her nervous.
----------
Savanna took Timmy with her to collect batteries. They took them out of toys, remotes, drawers… Anything they could find that contained batteries. “Look what I found.” Timmy pulled out some string lights that were battery powered. They had a box of AA batteries which is exactly what they needed to give the lights some juice. “We can use these. They should make everythin’ kinda bright.” Timmy wrapped them up as best he could and followed Savanna back to the living room. “We got all the batteries, mommy.” The six year old placed them on the coffee table. “Is this enough?” She arched a brow. Victoria didn’t have time to reply before a large clap of thunder shook the house. Savanna covered her ears with her hands as she flinched. She loved the rain, but she didn’t care for thunderstorms. She never had. “Mommy!” She screamed before Vic pulled her in close. She reached for Timothy too, although he seemed more okay with the storm than his sister.
“If we don’t have power, does that mean Dottie and Ransom don’t either? An Aunt Clara?” Timmy asked. He wished they were all together but Vic had no way of contacting them. She could only assume they were in the same boat. “I think so.” She looked out the window. For 6pm in July, it was awfully dark. Usually the sun didn’t begin to set until 9 or 9:30. “Where’s DC? I want DC ta be here…” Savvy pouted. Victoria checked her phone out of habit. She tried reaching out to him, Clara, Ransom, and Dottie just in case cell service came back, but it didn’t appear that her messages reached them. Not yet anyway. “He should be home soon, butterfly.” Vic replied in what she hoped was a convincing tone. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more... Her six year old daughter or herself, but if he didn’t show up soon she would have no choice but to put the kids in the car and go looking for him.
“Does the mind flayer have him?” Savvy trembled. Victoria had no idea what her daughter was talking about. “Who, baby?” She questioned. Timmy looked up from a toy he had to explain. “The mind flayer. It’s from a show. Savvy thinks he’s real.” The eight year old spoke. “Dad let us watch Stranger Things…” He added. It clearly wasn’t a show for young kids. David thought it would be too scary for them, but they insisted it wasn’t. Timmy wasn’t afraid. He knew it was just a television show, but Savvy had nightmares about it almost every night for the last two weeks. “Savvy wanted ta watch it even though I knew it was gonna be too scary...” Savanna scowled. “It’s not too scary!” She interrupted her brother. “The mind flayer is out there.” She looked out the window. “An he has DC…” The little brunette whispered.
----------
The sky was a dark shade of grey and without any lights from the town bouncing off the clouds, they gave off this eerie feeling. The thunder continued to boom overhead while lightning streaked across the sky. The rain was coming down in sheets. Anyone who stood outside for more than a second would be completely drenched. Victoria was doing the best she could to distract the kids, but with low lighting and no power at all, it proved harder than she expected. Even arts and crafts were a challenge because they couldn’t see very well. “Are you hungry?” She finally asked. There were plenty of options to choose from that didn’t require an oven or a microwave. Everything in the fridge was fair game. They needed to eat it before it went bad. “Can we have ice cream?”Timmy asked. “Cause it’ll melt if we don’t eat it.” He was too smart for his own good sometimes and Vic chuckled as she thought about it. Ice cream for dinner wasn’t her first choice, but it wasn’t like this happened often. In fact… It never happened. “Just this once.” The brunette agreed before she disappeared into the kitchen for the carton and some spoons. There was no need for bowls tonight. Whatever they couldn’t eat would be thrown out.
“Do ya think the power is gonna come back soon?” Savanna asked as she held Teddy close to her chest. She covered herself and the plush bear with the butterfly throw she and Victoria made over the winter. It had been her go-to blanket ever since. She wouldn’t sleep without it. “I duno if it’s gonna come back t’nite, but me an’ mommy will keep ya safe, Sav. Ya have nothin’ ta’ worry ‘bout.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth before the front door burst open and a shadowy figure stood before them. Savanna and Timothy both screamed bloody murder. “It’s the demogorgon!” The six year old shouted as she grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on to throw at the intruder. The television remote bounced off his head and shattered on the floor. “What in the Hell?” Declan said before a string of curse words were mumbled under his breath. Victoria came running in with a kitchen knife in her hand. “You stay away from them!” She yelled. Her heart was racing so fast she thought she was going to throw up. It wasn’t until he spoke again that she realized they weren’t in any actual danger. “Jesus Christ, Vic… Put the knife down. It’s me.” DC held his hands up in surrender. “It’s just me.”He winced as his fingers touched his head. Savvy hit him pretty good with the remote. Enough to break the skin and make him bleed. He turned to the little girl as he stepped into the light so she could see him. “Good aim, kid.” He laughed softly. He couldn’t be mad at her even though it hurt like Hell. She was scared and he couldn’t blame her.
“I was gonna ask if everyone was okay here, but from the looks’a it… Ya seem ta have things under control.” He chuckled again. Victoria brought a wet paper towel and a bandaid over to clean up his wound. “It’s wild out there, Vic. Trees are down everywhere. Transformers are blown. The whole town is without power.” Timmy raised a brow at the comment. “Transformer? Like Bumblebee? Or Optimus Prime?” He asked which made Victoria laugh and shake her head. “Not that kind of transformer, baby.” She told him before directing her attention back to Declan. “I tried to call you but I couldn’t get through. We were worried about you.” Their conversation was cut short by a tugging at the hem of her shirt. “Mom, I thought ya said we can have ice cream.” Timmy looked up at her with big doe eyes. She knew he wouldn’t let her forget. He never did when it came to food, especially one of his favorites. “Declan? Would you like some ice cream for dinner?” Vic asked to which he nodded. He wouldn’t turn down sweets. His sweet tooth was almost as bad as the kids. “Be right back.” The brunette said as she went back to the kitchen for the ice cream she took out of the freezer and four spoons.
“DC…” Savvy’s voice was soft. The sky was getting darker by the second and the trees in the distance looked like shadow monsters when they were backlit by lightning. “Are ya suuuuure you’re not’a demogorgon?” She asked cautiously. He rubbed his beard in confusion. “A demo-what?” He questioned. “This storm has ya pretty shaken up, huh?” He could see it on her face. He knew she was scared. He had been living there long enough to know how she reacted to thunderstorms. More often than not he’d wake up to her tucked in at Victoria’s side because that was the only way she’d go back to sleep. “I’ve got’an idea. Let me change in’ta somethin’ dry and I’ll show ya.” DC told the kids. He ruffled Timmy’s hair as he headed for the stairs. “Yer in charge ‘til I get back. It’s a man’s job ‘ta keep the ladies safe. I’m countin’ on ya.” Timmy took that very seriously and he promised to keep them safe as another clap of thunder sent Savvy diving under the blankets.
Timmy, Savanna, and Victoria were having ice cream for dinner when Declan returned in some dry clothes. He brought pillows and blankets with him… As many as he could find. He’d need Vic to distract the kids so he could get them set up. “DC!” Savvy held out a spoon for him to take. “We saved some ice cream for ya. You can sit right here next ta me an’ mommy.” The items in his hand didn’t go unnoticed. “What’s all that for?” The little brunette asked. Declan cracked a smile. “It’s a surprise.” He explained.
----------
When everyone had their fill of ice cream, Declan tossed the rest. He suggested to Vic that she take the kids into her studio to color for a little while. He wouldn’t tell her what he had up his sleeve either. “No peakin’ now.” He warned.
It took roughly a half an hour for Declan to construct a blanket fort that would fit all of them comfortably. He used the battery powered lights Timmy found with the Christmas decorations to line the ceiling of their storm shelter. He also had a couple of camping lanterns (so everything wasn’t so dark) and Sterno (that wasn’t lit yet) to cook hot dogs and marshmallows over like they were actually camping.
Once he was finished he went to get Vic and the kids. He watched them for a moment, smiling at how happy Victoria was when she spent time with her babies. It was like looking at a whole new person. Quitting nursing had been the best thing for her. He was glad she was finally doing something that made her happy. “Who’s ready to see their surprise?” Declan asked. Timmy was the first to jump up, but Savvy was a close second. “Well, come on then.” He ushered them to the living room.
“Mommy, look at this ginormous fort!” Savanna said excitedly. The smile on her children’s faces made Victoria’s heart swell. This was a new side of Declan… A side that she enjoyed very much. He was so good to Timmy and Savanna and it was obvious they adored him. “How’d I do?” DC asked the kids. “This is sooooo cool.” Timmy replied. “Mommy, there’s room for you an DC...an’ look!He got’a movie for us ‘ta watch.” Thankfully the kids had iPads that were fully charged and there were downloaded movies to keep them entertained until bedtime.
What started out as a scary evening was shaping up to be a pretty good night. The storm still raged outside, but the thunder seemed to be getting further away. Riding it out was all they could do. The only thing that would have made the night more perfect was if Ransom and Dottie were there too. “DC got the light back.”Savvy grinned. “He scared away the mind flayer so it's not so scary anymore."
#♡ savanna thorne#♡ victoria deschaine | [connection]#♡ timmy thorne | [connection]#♡ declan deschaine | [connection]#task 10#power outage
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what we didn’t write down
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Car ma vie, car me joies
Aujourd’hui, ça commence avec toi
- Edith Piaf
We wrote a lot of poetry about Paris then. We wanted to capture everything, like the afternoon sunlight and rose pink sunsets that flooded through the apartment’s one window, or the way the cigarette smoke curled through the air and mingled with the steam of pasta boiling on the stove. There was Lou’s cat, Sanska, a slinking black thing whose growth had been stunted a year earlier when she’d accidentally ingested some rat poison laid out by another tenant and would consequently remain kitten-sized the rest of her life. She had a habit of leaping from the floor onto our backs to drape herself over our shoulders as we were cooking, and when we left the bedroom skylight open, she would fall from the roof into the bed, waking us up in the mornings. I remember using the word “cinematic” a lot during those months.
I had a notebook, a little 1 euro legal pad of graph paper, where I tried to write it all down. On one page is a list, scribbled in my sloppy handwriting, titled “details to remember” and it looks like this:
dried lavender in an empty jack daniel’s bottle window light, 3:45pm
red wine stains on lou’s lace blanket made tacos, 2am
harry named one plant ed dunkle anneli named the basil plant emmanuel
ashtrays: wooden egg cup, baby food tin, bonne maman jam jar
pink teapot full of weed and the cocaine no one wanted to try
in france they call frosted flakes frosties
pays d’hearault = second cheapest wine at carrefour, tastes better than 3rd cheapest wine
111 stairs to lou’s apartment (eleventy-one!)
There were many moments so heart-stoppingly beautiful, details so small and yet imbued with such a powerful sense of perfection I could hardly believe their reality. We saved them all, taped every receipt and metro ticket and museum pass into our journals. We even kept our empty cigarette cartons, because the hundreds of polaroids we took with Jess’s camera fit perfectly inside them in neat little stacks of ten or twenty. By October we filled a shoebox with them. All this was evidence that the lifestyle we never hoped to dream of truly did exist, and many of our conversations were rehashed stories of the days we met, jokes from past parties repeated until we knew them all by heart.
This was the Paris we wanted to remember. But there were times we didn’t speak of, stories we chose not to retell in hopes that they would fall to the cutting room floor of our memories, mental edits to our so-called cinematic experience. In our silent way, we tried to forget, unable to admit the chaos that haunted the city beyond our brightly lit apartment.
In the fall of 2016, Paris was in the midst of the refugee crisis. When the New York Times released an article titled “Paris is the New Calais, with Scores of Migrants Arriving Daily,” I opened it on my laptop but couldn’t bring myself to read. But the numbers were there, and I had seen them in person. Over one hundred migrants were arriving in the city each day, the result of war and political unrest in Africa and the Middle east, and the demolition of what France called “The Jungle,” an unofficial refugee camp at the port of Calais. Consequently, thousands of migrants from Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria, Nigeria, and Iraq were living in the streets of Paris. They camped in tents below the Stalingrad metro station, under bridges down the Canal St. Martin, and roamed the tourist areas asking for money. I remember families with young children clustered together on the Pont des Artes and the Pont Saint-Louis, watched their formations change as they fanned themselves with newspapers in the heat of early September and gathered blankets and scraps of cardboard when the cold began to settle. There was one family I saw several times stationed on the quai beside Notre Dame with a colorful set of blankets and a handwritten sign asking for help. There were two young girls, no more than nine or ten, and an older woman who might have been their mother or grandmother, I couldn’t tell. But what struck me were the bunnies. They had three of them, two brown and one black, and I often saw them cradled in the girl’s arms, wrapped up in the blankets, or hopping around the sidewalk, kept close by a makeshift shoestring leash. One September afternoon on my way to the bookshop, I saw the woman kneeling on the ground, head bowed in prayer as the girls fed the bunnies bits of grass and old vegetables. They were smiling, and I was struck by the resilience and generosity of those young girls who fed and sheltered their pets in spite of their own dispossession. But as the weeks wore on and the warm days of late summer disappeared, their inspiring resilience became much more devastating. By late October, Paris had shed its golden hour afternoons for dense cloaks of fog and drizzle, and though the small family remained, the bunnies disappeared. And then, one day, the family was gone.
The day I first noticed their absence, Harry and I found ourselves meeting Jess, Lou, and Anneli in front of Notre Dame at midnight with a bag of limes and a bottle of cheap tequila. We thought it would be “cinematic” to take shots in the empty courtyard in front of the cathedral. But as we passed the bottle around, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the empty sidewalk on the quai where that family had been only days earlier. When Anneli asked me what was wrong, I blamed my tears on the liquor. I sucked the lime and tried to forget.
Less than a year before I arrived in Paris, 130 people were killed in a coordinated suicide bombing attack claimed by ISIS that hit several locations across the city. This attack followed several others in Paris and across France in 2015, but November 14th stands out in devastating horror as the bloodiest terror attack in the country’s history. The Bataclan theater, where three men open fired on the crowd of over a thousand music fans, is a five minute walk from Lou’s apartment. She heard the guns, the screams and police sirens.
We rarely talked about the attacks, and never discussed the looming possibilities of another. But there was a quiet fear throughout the city. Gendarmes patrolled the tourist areas and major metro stations, and we often saw them on the streets harassing refugees and migrant families. Flowers and candles still adorned the various locations of mass shootings, and every anonymous white van was surveyed with silent but intense apprehension. Crowds would hush in the wake of sirens that were often followed by streams of six or seven police cars, and we would check our phones for the bad news we feared was about to break. A man working at Shakespeare and Company once told us how he very well could have been in Nice, one of the crowd in the Bastille Day celebrations run down by a lorry leaving 84 dead. He just missed his train.
We were heading home to Lou’s apartment after a morning at Sacre-Coeur, and for one reason or another everyone was in a bad mood, though we dared not admit it. We were probably cold, unaccustomed to the chill that blew into the city in mid-October, and disappointed that the view from the top Paris’s tallest hill was overshadowed by a rainy gloom that didn’t fit with our aspirations of the day. But as we trudged our descent into the Anvers metro station, a woman’s shrill and terrifying scream jerked us from our temporary disenchantment.
Several people stood frozen in the underground, staring at the nightmarish scene before them. A young woman was being held against the wall of the station by two men who were shouting at her in a language I didn’t understand. She tried to get away, but was pushed to the floor where she let out another terrible scream. The woman yelled at the onlookers, begging for help, demanding we call the police while the two men continued to harass and restrain her. People shuffled awkwardly around the chaos as they entered and exited the metro. All the while, sitting behind the plexiglass window of the ticketing booth, was the station worker, another young woman who seemed only mildly disturbed at what was happening three feet away.
Harry broke our panicked trance and ran up to the ticket counter, and asked the woman if she’d called the police yet. They exchanged a few words, and for a moment we had hope that the abuse would be justly resolved. But Harry returned to where Anneli and I stood, his anger scarcely concealed the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.
“She told me there’s nothing she can do,” he said. “Says the men are undercover police and that the girl stole some drugs or something.”
The woman moaned as the men heaved the woman up from the floor and shoved her once again into the wall.
“They don’t seem like police,” Anneli whispered.
The train ride home was hauntingly quiet. I felt sick. Harry was saying something about what he should have done, how he could have fought those guys or asked to see a badge or gotten some kind of answer. We left the scene of the struggle before its resolution, if it ever had one, nauseous and afraid and shamefully embarrassed that we had witnessed a violent assault and done nothing. We didn’t try to stop those men, and we didn’t search for any additional help above the station where there was more than likely a gendarme nearby. We hadn’t called the police, and our excuses felt limp and meaningless. What could we have done if the men really were undercover cops? Besides, mine and Anneli’s phones weren’t on an international data plan, and Harry’s was dead. Our French wasn’t good enough to communicate with a police officer. But we were struck silent by the poisonous doubt that even if our phones had been working, we might not have chosen the path of heroism we thought ourselves capable of. Our confidence was shaken, the cinematic bubble had burst. We weren’t the protagonists of our own living movie as we’d come to believe, only delusional cowards in a world of common chaos.
Everyone took naps when we made it home. We wanted to distance ourselves from the morning as swiftly as possible, and when we woke with that hollow dread still seething in our stomachs, we bought some wine and and walked to the jazz club. By the next morning, we had resumed our movie. I never wrote anything down about that day, never saved my metro ticket. Weeks later we returned to Sacre-Coeur on a sunnier afternoon, and the view was breathtaking. We transposed our memories of the assault with a walk around Montmartre and tried to let ourselves forget.
But I still think about that woman and what I could have done to help her, just like I still think of the young girls and their bunnies and the many sirens in the streets of Paris. There were other times we couldn’t romanticize, disagreements between friends that went unresolved, drunken nights that left lovers fighting in the apartment hallways and friends sleeping on the bathroom floor to avoid confrontation. And even though we did our best to idealize everything, reality spread its sticky mess through our stories, and the golden sunlight that beamed through the window didn’t always augur a perfect day. We wrote a lot of poetry about Paris then, about the black cat and the pink sunsets and drunken nights spent climbing eleventy-one stairs to Lou’s apartment, but we never did forget, and those memories remain undocumented but indelible in my memory.
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