#how petty would it be to drive there early on christmas morning; because they surely won't be there then; and just take away the furniture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lifeinahole27 · 4 years

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CS ff: “Tidings of Something” (au)

Summary: When Emma gets injured during a routine bail bonds job, it may be the Christmas miracle she never knew she needed, if only because it finally gets her to open her eyes about the man that helps her through everything. Killian would’ve preferred the Christmas without picking Emma up from a hospital, but doesn’t much mind the way it all turns out.

Rating: Barely even T, I think.

A/N: So maybe it would’ve given me away had I said “Hi @captainmorningstar! I’m your secret santa and I’m never on time!” and she would’ve been like “Oh! My santa is lifeinahole because she never posts anything when she’s supposed to!” and then at least it would’ve been anticlimactic when I forgot to hit anon. Despite all that, I had a blast gathering the info for this and writing it. Thanks to @cssecretsanta2k19 for putting this together - for putting us together. I had such a fun time getting to know my darling giftee and writing this tailored gift for her. I hope you enjoy it, my dear!

-x-

It’s the second week of December, and already Emma has heard the song playing over the speakers at least twenty times. It doesn’t help that there are only thirteen Christmas songs total and the radio stations just cycle through each iteration on an endless loop. Despite all of this, though, Emma is humming along to the soft strains of an instrumental “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as the pain meds finally start to do their job.

“Swan?”

The sound of his voice is sweeter than any song ever could be, and with a struggle, Emma opens her eyes to the bright fluorescents overhead, blinking until Killian’s face comes into focus above her.

“Hi there,” he says when he can see she’s tuned in.

“Hi,” she responds, her voice dreamy and her smile as big and as dopey as she imagines it is. She’s caught up in the blue of his eyes, the perfect lines of his face, the worry lines crinkling his forehead as he visually checks her over.

She’s fine, of course. Not the first time she sprained her wrist, but the rib subluxation is something she could’ve lived without.

The stress on Killian’s face fades slightly as he looks at her, relief taking its place.

“You had me worried, love.”

“Nothing to worry about,” she wheezes out as she struggles to sit up. “I’m fine.” A deep inhale of breath says otherwise as her left side reminds her of that whole rib thing and she winces, doing her best to keep her breathing even so she doesn’t hurt herself again.

He hums his response, settling onto the bed next to her as he asks her to explain what happened. It’s a brief story, thankfully: bail runner caught on, shoved her as hard as he could, and took off. It wasn’t until she’d slapped the cuffs onto him that she realized she was in pain, once the adrenaline started to wear off. Somehow, she made it to the hospital on her own and it wasn’t until they said she wouldn’t be able to drive home that she realized she was going to need help. Enter Killian: faithful friend, dockworker with an understanding boss, love of her life that she’s never told.

He smells like salt today, and there’s a hint of fish from working so close to the cannery, but she doesn’t mind, not when she carefully rests her head on his shoulder and melts into his embrace grabbing onto his prosthetic hand in a gesture of comfort. She’s not sure how much longer she can stay awake, so she’s thankful when the doctor finally comes in with her final advice for recovery.

Emma’s going to be off work for a while, which is going to suck. She’s set for now, but a month is a long time to go without a paycheck. The only bright side is that she works her ass off all year so she can take it easy around Christmas, so she was looking to spend less time chasing after people anyway.

She’s been here for a couple days staking out this particular mark, so they have to get her packed and checked out of her hotel. They make arrangements with said hotel to leave her car there until Killian and David can come down to get it, and then Killian is bundling her into the passenger side of his vehicle, easing them onto the highway and turning down the volume when Emma inevitably caves and falls asleep after the first five miles.

She doesn’t wake again until they’re pulling up in front of her apartment building. Then it’s a delicate operation getting her out of the truck and into her apartment. The sprain in her wrist isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Maybe a little more pressure from the fall and she’d be dealing with a fracture instead, but it certainly doesn’t tickle right now. It’s still easy enough to get changed on her own and settled into the bed, accepting the glass of water that Killian hands her after he knocks to make sure she’s decent.

“Try to rest. I’m going to grab us some dinner and come back in a bit, okay?”

Emma’s too tired to even speak, so she nods, nesting down into her bed and letting her body finally rest.

-x-

It’s only after he knows she’s fast asleep that Killian leaves, carefully locking the apartment door behind him when he goes. He heads to the sheriff’s station first, as he knows David needs to hear in person that his adopted “little” sister got the shite kicked out of her at work today.

Getting the call from Emma was terrifying; he probably would’ve panicked if he’d gotten the call about anyone, but with Emma it’s… different. He’s been in love with her for so long now that he can’t even recall when or how it happened. But he’s the person she calls when she’s in trouble, and a devoted best friend. He can’t mess any of that up with feelings that she doesn’t reciprocate.

“Killian? What are you doing out of work so early? I thought you guys were shutting down the spare docks for the season.”

“We were. But I got called away on an emergency so I left this morning before lunch.

“What kind of emergency?” David asks, his voice and face going deadly serious. There are only so many people in this town Killian knows, and David knows which one he would drop everything for without hesitation.

“Don’t worry, it’s all okay,” Killian says first. “Emma called from Portland because she took a bit of a spill. Nothing is broken, but she’s a little bruised.”

Immediately, Killian can see David popping into “overprotective brother” mode and understands that this is exactly why Killian was called to tend to Emma instead of him.

“How bruised?”

“It’s just a sprained wrist and she almost dislocated a rib. Nothing but some standard pain killers involved. She’s already back home and resting. You and I will have to drive down to Portland this weekend and retrieve her vehicle.”

The other man relaxes, even if just slightly, at hearing that nothing is broken and that she’s already home. Killian’s been around long enough that he knows exactly how this all goes.

“I was hoping, however, to enlist your lovely wife to help keep an eye on her. She’s going to have to refrain from work for a little bit but we both know Emma loves to push herself even when she should be resting.”

“Of course. She’s going to do what she wants, in the end, but maybe we can at least keep her entertained enough that she won’t feel the need to go out looking for trouble.”

He’s always thankful for David. Not only is he a friend to Killian, but he’s on similar wavelengths when it comes to how Emma works. They know she’s a woman of her own mind, and that she is not to be directed, so they work to find healthy alternatives.

For all the years that Emma has been in his life, she’s been chasing bail skips. He’s seen it hurt her but he’s also seen how much of a thrill she gets from a victory. It probably feels like vengeance against Neal every time she catches a scumbag that should be in jail, and so he’s happy to support her ventures. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare the daylights out of him when she gets injured, though.

One thing is for sure, he will always stand by her decisions, will stand beside her in every way he can, but he’s still allowed to wish she’d take the position David offered her as a deputy for their sleepy little town. He understands why she can’t, but it doesn’t stop him from hoping sometimes.

-x-

When Emma wakes up, it’s to a much darker apartment, but she can smell food. That’s what draws her slowly from her bedroom, taking her time and being extremely cautious with her left side.

She loves her job. She wishes it wouldn’t lead to moments like this, but this is the exception and definitely not the rule. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about joining the simple life sometimes.

A while ago, David offered her a position at the station as a deputy. She said “no” without even really thinking about it, but over the last couple months she’s been thinking more and more about what it would mean to take it.

She wouldn’t likely get beaten up anymore, that’s for sure. Storybrooke is more about minor traffic violations, and a yearly dispute, usually between two of the miners that happen to be brothers, and only after they’ve been drinking after work. They deal with petty squabbles and neighborly disagreements, but they’re so simple and easy to solve, and at the end of the day, everyone still loves each other in this town.

Having a job at the station would mean seeing her brother more often, and staying in town. It would mean a dedicated health care plan and like, a 401k. It would pay the bills a little more predictably than her current adventures. And while that’s all really boring stuff at this point, it would feel good not to worry about those things as much as she does right now.

And so she considers telling Killian she’s been thinking about it again. Been thinking about a lot of things, really, but she can’t tell him – not when he looks so devastatingly handsome standing in her kitchen plating up whatever’s been heating in her oven while she’s been sleeping. Because there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same way, and taking a job at the station means she can’t just leave if it all goes to shit.

“You’re awake!”

Her attention is brought back to the man in her apartment and Emma shakes off the rest of her thoughts. This right here, having time with her friend, is what matters more than anything.

They settle in and eat dinner, watching a movie when they’re done and everything has been cleaned up (by Killian, of course, because he wouldn’t let her lift a finger). She falls asleep on his shoulder less than halfway through, succumbing to the chaos of the day earlier than she meant to.

When she wakes again, it’s morning, and she’s in her bed.

There’s a note on the fridge telling her to take it easy, and she scoffs at it as she goes to brew coffee. It’s not like she had anything planned for the day, work or otherwise.

She’s not sure if he made the plans for her or if Elsa decided on her own, but it’s just after noon when there’s a knock on her door and the blonde is standing there with a deck of cards and a tray of to-go hot chocolates.

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Nope. Told me what happened but I decided to do this all on my own. Besides, you probably didn’t have plans today anyway.”

Her words are an echo of her previous thoughts, so she shrugs a little and opens the door wide to let Elsa in.

“I was surprised you didn’t call David,” Elsa says after they’re settled in around her coffee table, lounging on cushions and blankets, looking like they’ve nested for the remainder of the winter.

“He would’ve flipped out. And Snow would’ve mothered me to death. Killian panicked, but he at least takes care of me the way I need him to.” She’s staring at the cards in her hand, trying to decide if it’s worth it to keep looking for an ace or to start discarding them from her hand.

Elsa hums at that, and Emma gives her a look. “What’s that noise for?”

“Oh, you know.”

When her friend doesn’t continue, Emma stares harder.

“Oh, come on, Emma. What was it you said to me once about knowing me before you knew me?”

Emma takes her time responding, shuffling her cards and finally discarding the five of diamonds instead of the ace. “I said I knew you because I knew myself. We were both loners, looking out for ourselves, and trying not to hurt anyone else along the way.”

“Exactly. That’s the kind of bond we had when we were still a pinch hostile towards each other when I moved here, and now we’re friends. So imagine how much more I know about you now, and how much you’re avoiding the elephant in the room.”

She stares at Elsa, trying to gauge exactly what she’s talking about. She knows it’s in reference to Killian, but Emma works so hard to keep that secret buried deep. There’s no way Elsa could know how she feels, is there?

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” Elsa asks, eliminating all questions about what thinly veiled conversation they’re having.

“Never.”

“Emma.”

“He can’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t need this baggage hanging around him when I could run at any moment.” She blurts it out, surprising even herself with the intensity of the words.

Elsa puts her cards down, completely abandoning the game at hand and reaches over for Emma.

“Has it ever occurred to you that if you ran, he would follow you?”

“I’m not sure he would, actually.”

“That man would follow you to the ends of the earth, or time, if he had to. But if you need proof, please look at the guy that left work in the middle of the day to drive to Portland to pick you up and take care of you because he knows the right way to take care of you. Your words.”

Her little speech is topped off with a raise of one of her perfect eyebrows.

“I’m not saying you need to confess your feelings right now,” she adds, grabbing the cards from Emma’s hand and gathering them all to re-deal. “But think about it. Also you should’ve discarded the ace. I’m doing you a favor.”

Emma shakes her head as she motions for Elsa to continue, taking a moment to sip from her hot chocolate and consider her options. She sets herself a deadline of January 1. Maybe by then she can make up her mind what to do or not do.

-x-

On Saturday, early in the morning, Killian pulls up outside of Emma’s apartment. David is dropping off Snow to spend time with her while they go down to Portland to get Emma’s Bug.

But before they can get to that part of the plan, they have to make it there first.

Killian and David actually have a fantastic relationship. They bonded over having pains in the ass for brothers, and their friendship with Emma (even if David’s goes a little deeper than his own – being siblings by legal decree does mean a little more than “best friend” after all). But currently, you’d think they were strangers with the way the silence sits heavy between them in David’s SUV.

He tries to think of things to talk about, but nothing comes to mind but how to tell his very good friend that he’s in love with Emma. That’s not a conversation for a car trip where he literally cannot escape if the other man tries to aim his side of the vehicle at a tree.

Finally, he settles on something more mundane, asking what David got Snow for Christmas, and if he had any good ideas for what to get Emma this year.

That, of course, derails the conversation pretty quickly.

“You could get her your honesty about how you feel about her,” David suggests, still driving in the same calm and collected manner he has been the whole time.

“Pardon?’

“You heard me. I think she’s the only person in Storybrooke that doesn’t know how you feel.”

“Aye, well, all the more reason to not tell her. I don’t need to scare her off.”

“Why would that scare her off?” David asks, glancing over at Killian to see the tired look on his face.

“I know Emma. I know how she thinks. And she’s sworn off love for so long that I feel if I admitted my attractions that she would split as soon as she could,” he says in response.

“You never know until you try,” comes the answer to his statement, but Killian isn’t convinced.

“Does she need a new blanket for the living room, do you think?”

“You two are more alike than you think,” is David’s final comment before letting Killian successfully change the subject without returning to it again.

When they get to Portland, Killian stops in at the front desk to let him know he’s back to gather Emma’s car, making sure everything is still squared away with that before he goes out and gives David a thumbs up. The other man still waits until he sees that the Bug is successfully running, and then they both head back on the road to get home.

Killian has to pull into a gas station not long after they start driving, though, after a glance at the gauges tells him that Emma never bothered to fill up after she got here. He checks over the contents of the car quickly, making sure nothing was disturbed as he finds that the passenger door was also unlocked this whole time.

One item in particular draws him up short, however, when he reads the heading and discovers it to be an apartment application for a building not far from the hotel he just left.

When was she planning on telling anyone she was interested in moving down here? By the looks of it, she got two-thirds through the application before it was left on her passenger seat.

His heart sinks looking it over, where she’s even filled out potential move-in dates for right after the holidays are over. He can’t imagine Emma living outside of Storybrooke. She was there when he moved to the US and she’s been there for him ever since, and he never imagined she would leave. Apparently, though, she had other plans that she wasn’t sharing.

Maybe he should invest in some packing materials for Christmas in order to help her, if that’s what she wishes to do.

With every mile he drives closer to home, the more his heart aches. Should he tell her he found the application? Should he try to convince her to stay? No – he’s always claimed he would support her in anything and everything she ever did, and this change in location will be no different.

Instead, what Killian decides to do by the time he gets back, is bury the knowledge of what he’s found. If Emma wants to move, she will tell him - tell all of them - in her own time.

By the time he makes it back to Storybrooke, he’s worked his own mind into a frenzy. All he wants to do is drop off the keys and get back home. But when he gets to Emma’s door, he can smell the food first, and hear the laughter of their friends beyond the wood. Emma must sense his arrival because she whips open the door right as he’s about to knock.

“We thought you got lost!” she says, smiling wide and yanking on his sleeve to pull him inside. “We made dinner. Come join us.”

Despite his internal turmoil, Killian obliges, kicking off his shoes by the door and hanging his coat where it always hangs. He heads to the kitchen table when he’s settled, doing his best to put on a happy mask and enjoy the time with his loved ones.

He sets himself into the easy rhythm of traditions, passing the food in the order they always choose, and stacking the plates in a particular way when everyone is done.

As a group, they initiate cleanup. Emma and Killian fall to their respective roles of washing and drying the plates, while David packs up the food and stores the leftovers away. He and Snow leave shortly after with their own container of food, leaving Emma and Killian by themselves as they finish the dishes.

A million times, he tells himself to stay quiet, but that doesn’t stop him from blurting it out after five minutes. “So, the Portland Arms is a nice building.”

“It… you saw the application.”

“It was on the seat of your vehicle, so yes, I saw the application,” he says with much more attitude than he meant to.

“It’s just…”

“Just what, love? Just a couple hours away? Just a change of scenery and nothing else will change?”

“I was going to say ‘just an application’ but you’re right with both of those, too.”

Killian sighs, deflating a bit as he places the last dry dinner plate on the stack. “I’m sorry, Swan, it’s just the thought of you leaving is a lot to take in. But if it’s truly what you want, then just let me know what you need me to do and I’ll be happy to help.”

“Hold your horses,” she tells him, patting him on the arm when her hands are dry. “I’m not going anywhere yet. Like I said, it’s just an application. I don’t know if I want to move in the middle of winter so it may be a while.”

That her obstacle is the middle of winter rather than anything else tells him a lot about her feelings on the matter, so he lets it drop.

-x-

It feels like there’s something brewing that Emma can’t control. She’s not sure what exactly, but ever since they went down to get her car and Killian found that stupid application that she left on her seat, there’s been some underlying tension that they can’t seem to shake. He’s been moody, but also pretending he isn’t. She’s not sure why she didn’t tell him the truth, but it’s her own damn business, anyway!

On Christmas Eve, he comes over as he always does in order to decorate her tree. Normally, Emma is fully immersed in the process of picking out, cutting down, and hauling in of her tree. This year, she had to skip the second and third parts of that, only having a hand in picking out the one she wanted while David and Killian were the ones to bring it in. It’s been in the stand for a couple days now just waiting for the trimming part, but they always wait until the day before to do that together.

While David and Snow are busy decorating theirs and getting their little family home ready for the holiday, Killian comes to her apartment. He doesn’t put up a tree of his own because he spends so much of his time at Emma’s place.

He doesn’t do a lot of holiday decorating for that same reason, and Emma gets why he might be upset with the idea of her moving to Portland because all of his traditions that have been formed over the years will be moving with her.

Clearly, she didn’t consider how hard he might take it if she actually moved away.

But as she carefully sits there unwrapping and adding ornaments to the tree, she can’t imagine doing this without him. They have assigned parts in this play: they pick the tree together, and Killian puts on the lights while she fetches the skirt and the ornaments, then he’s in charge of the garland and Emma tops the whole thing with the star.

This year they had to make some concessions to make sure Emma doesn’t hurt herself, but she’s still taking care of the ornaments while Killian struggles to get the beaded garland untangled. He’s muttering to himself, saying how he meant to wrap them around something last year when they packed it all up, but it’s all a diatribe to himself and she just listens and tries her best not to laugh.

He’s helpless. Adorable and helpless. And she doesn’t really realize what she’s doing until she’s already moving towards him - the small swan ornament she’d been holding is abandoned back in the box and she’s grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards her.

There’s a look of shock on his face as she tugs him down, and then she’s not thinking about how there was no warning leading up to this but how right it feels to be kissing him. Killian’s surprise wears off quickly and then he’s kissing her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. She can feel the beads of the garland digging into her side where he clearly didn’t drop the strand but she doesn’t care, especially when her hand buries into his hair and she’s not sure she ever wants to surface from this again.

He sighs out her name as they break apart at one point, and that’s when reality comes crashing down on her. What is she doing? And what is he doing kissing her back like that?

“I’m - I’m sorry. I’ll be right back,” Emma stutters out, making a dash for the bathroom. She takes her time, pressing a cool washcloth to her face and running the faucet for far too long before she exits again.

When she comes back, the living room is empty. The garland is neatly strung around the tree, but the coat rack reveals no extras and it’s clear that he’s made a swift exit while she tried to collect herself.

There’s a note by the tree, hastily scrawled but still more beautiful than most handwriting she’s ever seen. In it, Killian explains that he’s had a rather long day and he’s headed home to get some sleep, but that he’ll see her in the morning when they all exchange gifts. With a sigh, she turns back to her ornaments, adding the last few she had left before.

It takes her that long to realize that Killian has already added the star to the top of the tree, probably foreseeing that she can’t stretch like that on her own right now. She doesn’t even plug it in to see it all completed, instead flipping off the rest of the lights and making sure the door is locked before going to bed.

She knows why she kissed Killian - she wanted to. She wanted… wants him. She just doesn’t know why he kissed her back like a man on a mission and then bolted while she tried to make heads and tails of the situation.

Her dreams are fraught with weird scenarios, one of which has her tangled in strands of lights and garland, trapped in a Christmas prison. She calls out for help repeatedly, but never gets an answer. Then she calls out Killian’s name and she can immediately hear a response for her to hold on, that he’s on his way.

In the morning, she wakes with that dream fresh in her mind and her heart still aches a little at the message. In all situations, great and small, she knows without a doubt that Killian will be there to help her. So what’s holding her back from telling him how she feels?

The whole day feels different. Killian is usually the first one at her door in the morning but he’s not there when David and Snow show up. They’re the ones helping Emma put together brunch, just waiting for the oven timer to ding when Killian finally walks through the door looking like he slept about as roughly as Emma did.

“Sorry I’m late,” he tells her as she helps him out of his coat. “Had to take care of some things at home.”

It’s a lie. She’s not sure she’s ever heard him lie to her this blatantly before. He’s lied to her about small things before, but this is the first time she’s heard him outright lie this bad since they drove down to Boston one summer and he claimed he wasn’t lost. When they ended up in New Hampshire, he finally admitted his wrongdoing.

But when she looks a little harder at him, he averts his eyes, moving instead to remove his boots and wander over to where Snow and David have already made themselves comfortable in the living room.

That’s the way it is all through brunch and the cleanup from their meal, and even most of the way through presents. He only really looks at her again when he thanks her for his gift. His eyes say volumes about how he’s feeling, so while the words were quiet, he’s practically screaming his gratitude in looks alone.

When she opens the gift from him, her heart almost stops. Nestled in the small box is a swan pendant, vastly different than the last one she owned when she was younger, and already holding a lot more meaning than the little keychain some asshole once lifted from a gas station for her. She kept the old pendant for the longest time as a reminder not to trust anyone. It was Killian that helped her finally get rid of that necklace, patiently sitting with her as she took her time, made peace with all the bad memories, and then chucked it into the ocean from the boat he’d taken her out on that day.

“I hoped it would have slightly better memories than the last one,” Killian says, and she didn’t even notice him move closer until she realizes how near his voice is. “May I?”

She nods, watching in silence as he lifts the necklace from the box, taking his time to grasp the clasp between his fingers and pinching it open while holding the other side with his prosthetic. She holds her hair up and out of the way as he latches the necklace behind her, his fingers lingering just a bit before he abruptly stands.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve some work to attend to,” he says, looking regretfully at Emma before he heads for the door. He makes sure to gather his gifts, thanking David and Snow before slipping from the apartment as quickly as he showed up.

It takes some acting, but she plays off his departure as nothing major. It’s clear he’s never mentioned the apartment application to David and Snow or else one of them would’ve blurted out an objection already. So she plays along and smiles through the rest of their time together.

Just after they eat dinner, Snow excuses herself. “I’m going home for a moment, and I’ll be back with more cookies,” she tells them.

Another lie, Emma can tell, but she lets her friend go, realizing pretty quickly this is a case of Divide and Conquer between the married couple.

“I’m going to make you more hot chocolate. And when it’s done, we’re going to have a talk,” David says when the door has shut behind his wife, confirming her suspicions.

Emma bites back the smile the best she can and follows him into the kitchen.

-x-

It’s snowing and cold but Killian doesn’t really notice any of it. His hand is shoved into his pocket and his prosthetic is resting on the wooden railing overlooking the docks.

“I would be lost without you,” he repeats to himself. It’s the inscription she put on the inside of the compass, a beautiful rosewood piece that he would normally be so excited to display in his home until it was time to bring his own boat out of winter storage.

Now, after everything that’s happened the last couple weeks, he can’t tell its intended meaning. She’s talking about moving, and then she kisses him, and then runs away, and then gives him this particular gift with this particular message?

He watches his breath fog out in front of him, noticing that even that looks sad and aggravated.

“Thought I might find you out here,” comes a voice from behind him. He turns to find Snow standing there, bundled against the cold and holding a hot mug that she hands to him.

The tea is one of his favorites, and he sighs in the comfort of the gesture.

“You two have been keeping secrets from us,” Snow says. “You don’t need to tell me everything, since I’m sure it means more to you and Emma than it does to me or David. There’s some things that I do know. It’s that you don’t get a happy ending without working for it, and that everyone deserves love. I can tell you have feelings for Emma that go beyond best friends. And though she’d never admit it, I’m pretty sure Emma feels the same way.”

“You’d get along with my brother,” Killian says, managing a smile. It doesn’t last, though. “And I don’t know if she truly does.”

“You won’t know until you talk to her.” Snow reaches out and clasps his arm. “Look, Emma has waited a long time for someone to come into her life that she trusts enough to give her heart to. And I think she so badly wants it to be you, but she’s too scared to make a move without knowing for sure how you feel.”

It’s sound advice, to maybe even make things a little more obvious to her. Handing her a necklace doesn’t explain his reasoning behind it - that he not only bought it because he thought of the way she’d smile when she saw it, but also because she deserves to replace every last memory from the last man she trusted that broke her heart.

Snow shivers, bringing him back to the present and he’s finally aware of the snow falling heavier now than it was before. “It’s cold out here. Go home,” she tells him. “And Merry Christmas!” With a quick peck on his cheek, Snow turns and walks up the path back towards where she can see David waiting in his truck to pick her up.

He turns back towards the water, staring out at the darkness beyond his vision.

His friend is right. He needs to tell Emma how he feels, and he needs to do it before it’s too late. Liam always tells him that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. With one more look out to the water, he turns to head back to Emma’s apartment, but she’s already there.

She’s a couple meters away, shivering slightly despite her warm weather gear, and it’s only once Killian turns that she seems to come back to herself.

“What are you doing out here, love? It’s freezing.”

“Says the man out here without a scarf or a glove or a hat?”

“I wasn’t really planning on staying out long. It just sort of… happened.”

“Killian.”

“No wait, there’s something I need to say before we go any further.” He braces himself quickly, moving towards her slowly as he starts to speak. “When I met you, I was a broken man. I'd lost what I thought was the love of my life. After that first Christmas I spent with you, I felt like maybe my heart could move on one day. You invited me to join your family and your traditions, and for the first time in a long time I felt that hope that I'd find love again. And by the next Christmas, I wanted to find that love with you.”

He stops when he’s close enough to see the way the snowflakes catch on her eyelashes, and the way she keeps brushing them out of her hair.

“I was always afraid to say anything for fear that you’d go running from me, since I’d heard all the stories you’d told me about the men you’d been with. I figured if you kept repeating ‘I’m never dating again’ enough in my presence that I should probably heed that warning.”

Emma chuckles under her breath at that, inching her way closer to him as he does the same to her.

“Snow told me you’ve waited a long time to find a man to give your heart to. I’m truly hoping if you’d be lost without me that it means I may be the one you’re ready to try again with?”

“I know the engraving was cheesy but it fits too well, and it’s absolutely true. I would be lost without you.” The words come out quietly, and his breath catches in his throat as her fingers find the pirate’s luck necklace she bought him a few years ago. “I know I didn’t make it easy for you to tell me the truth, but I want you to know I feel the same way. What do you say, should we make this official? Kiss again and not have either of us go running for the hills afterward?” She means for it to lighten the mood, but he can’t help but be perfectly honest with his next words.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. That’s all I want.”

Her responding smile is bright and she leans forward just as he does. For a moment, all they do is touch their foreheads together, savoring this moment and breathing the other in - this closeness feels different than all the other times in their shared lives. When her fingers link with his, that’s when Killian moves again, angling his head and pressing his lips to hers.

This time is sweeter, with much more meaning behind it.

“Does this mean you aren’t moving to Portland?”

“Killian. I was never moving to Portland. My skip worked in the housing office at that building and I needed the application as a cover to get to him.”

“And you couldn’t have just told me that when I brought it up?”

“I got defensive! It’s a knee-jerk reaction.”

“You got the ‘jerk’ part right, at least.”

She points a finger at him, a wordless warning that he’s been on the receiving end of multiple times.

“Let’s go home,” she tells him, smiling as he lifts one of her gloved hands to press his lips against it.

It’s later when she kisses him goodnight when she tells him she took the job at the station, and he feels like this may be the best Christmas he’s ever had.

-x-

The next Christmas, the box she unwraps is engraved, and the contents inside of it make her tear up.

“Where you lead,” he whispers, “will you let me be by your side?”

Her response of ‘yes’ is quickly lost in the way that they kiss, and they inform David and Snow to make it Christmas dinner instead of brunch, just so they have time to get their celebrating out of the way before they tell everyone else.

The End!

#captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #cs ff au #cssecretsanta2k19 #sarah writes ff #only a week and a day late #not as bad as i've been on some tasks!!#:[

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what-big-teeth · 4 years

Text

Spark (Male Fire Elemental, pt. 2)

There are two sides to every story. And for many, both are worth hearing. To help her father heal and to better understand Ignis, Simone knows she must learn of the fire elemental’s past. That is, if he chooses to tell her.

Female Human (POV) x Male Monster [Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4]

TW: self-harm

As a child, I used to scream myself awake at night.

Sweat soaked my pajamas every time and my muscles ached from thrashing around. The only thing that brought me to my senses was the gentle touch of Nana’s hands.

My lungs always struggled to take in air and there were times when I threw up. But Nana would just draw a warm bath then gently wash my body with lavender soap. And she never let me feel ashamed.

But during the worst nights, I couldn’t look at her. Even after she’d dress me, change my bedsheets, and tuck me back in. I wanted nothing more than for her to leave so I could stay angry at myself. She never did.

“Simone?”

“Mm.”

“Are you too old to be my grandbaby?”

Every time she’d ask that question with a playful tone, I’d meet her eyes and shake my head.

“Then you aren’t too old to hear me tell your favorite story. Are you comfy?”

I’d nod, only after snuggling further into bed. The act would bring a smile to her face every time.

“Ready, Nana.”

And without fail, she’d spin her tale. Once upon a time, there was a brave, Black girl who lived in a quiet town. It was so quiet that the girl decided she wanted to go on an adventure in the woods. So, she did.

As she explored the forest, the girl found something amazing: fire trapped in an unbreakable glass sphere. But neither were ordinary fire or ordinary glass. The flame was a tricksy spirit and the sphere was its prison, etched with strange symbols. At first, the spirit didn’t want anything to do with the girl and told her to leave. But the girl refused and told the spirit that having company was better than being alone. To the girl’s surprise, the spirit agreed.

Years passed, and with time, the girl and the spirit grew close. The girl eventually found a way to shatter the glass sphere and released the spirit. But once he was freed, the spirit didn’t leave. Instead, he declared his love for the girl. But the girl couldn’t accept because her heart belonged to another. This angered the spirit and he vowed to destroy the quiet town where the girl lived. To save the boy and the town she loved, the girl tricked the spirit and trapped him again using her own blood.

“The girl later married the boy and lived a happy life, but she still thought about the spirit from time to time.”

“But he turned bad. So why Nana?”

“Because before he became the girl’s worst enemy, he was her dearest friend.”

________________________________________

I can feel Mica’s gaze trail after me as I unload my large, rolling suitcases and from Mason’s pickup. He slams the tailgate home with more force than usual and the bang drowns out her sigh.

“Are you sure about this, Simone?”

Going from “tidying up Nana’s house” in November to “living there for a week as a test-run” the next month didn’t sit well with her. More so when we found evidence of forced entry in Grandpa’s old den. Just about everything was turned over and rummaged through. And the back-door handle laid mangled in the backyard. The discovery spurred Mason to buy two, top-of-the-line locks and install them while we were still there. I offered to repay him for the locks and new keys, but he refused.

When Dad learned about our discovery, all the color drained from his face. Not surprisingly, he lost his composure when I told him my idea. Mason immediately offered to come along for additional safety as did Mica. Mainly to keep Mason in line and to help ease Dad’s growing worry. Thankfully, after I promised to put his number on speed dial and check in with him daily, he agreed.

I haul the heavier of my suitcases up the front steps and lean it against the door. Once I’m sure it won’t topple over from its own weight, I grab the second one and give Mica a reassuring smile.

“Positive. I don’t want my inheritance to go to waste.”

Mason frowns in return, but Mica quickly intercedes before he can speak.

“If you need anything, give us a call, okay? The motel’s only ten minutes away.”

“I will,” I say.

But neither twin moves. Or says anything. A long silence follows, one that’s filled with unvoiced concern.

“I’m serious, you guys. If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know. Promise.”

The tension in Mica’s shoulders subsides, but Mason just shakes his head and heads towards the driver side of his truck without saying goodbye. As he closes the door, Mica pinches the bridge of her nose with a gloved hand and lets out a deep breath.

“Don’t worry about him,” she says. “His bad mood will blow over and he’ll be back to his normal grumpy self soon.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Mica’s hand falls away from her face and she stares at me with narrowed eyes.

“Wait, he hasn’t told you yet?”

“If you mean the reason he’s been acting weird lately, then no. He hasn’t.”

My guess goes unanswered until she stomps her foot against the cold, hard ground.

“That dumbass!”

“Uh, Mica—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” She waves off my question and gives me a horribly forced smile. “I’ll take care of it and text you later!”

Before I can say anything, Mica jogs over to the pickup’s passenger side and climbs inside. She starts tearing into Mason the moment she’s settled in. But Mason’s stony expression doesn’t crack. He just focuses on reversing the truck and driving away.

I shake off the feeling of forced ignorance and head inside. No use in getting frustrated over what I can’t change. Not when there’s something I can. And it’s past the foyer and down the main hallway, disguised as a normal fireplace piled with ash.

I stare at the dark hearth, thinking of how to best announce my presence. I’m tempted to let my noisy air mattress pump do the job for me, but any sort of pettiness will hinder my goal. So, I pick up a nearby fire iron and knock it against the brick mantle.

A tiny burst of sparks emerges from the ash slowly followed by bright flames that curl upward until they fill the iron hearth. Unlike the sharp grin Ignis first wore when he first appeared, his features are stretched wide into a yawn.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I say.

Ignis takes his time coming around, his mouth closing with a sharp crackle. When his gaze lifts to meet mine, I give him a smile. His eyes narrow.

“You’re back.”

“Considering how I’m the rightful owner of this house, yes. I am.”

The bit of flame acting as his mouth stretches into a joyless sneer.

“Does your newfound ownership extend to me?”

I back away from the fireplace and plop down in the middle of the clean area rug.

“No, it doesn’t. And it never will.”

Ignis falls silent and his mocking smile melts into an unreadable expression. I keep going, not wanting to lose his attention.

“All I want is to know the truth. Nana told her side of the story as best she could to a young child. And Dad won’t say anything about what he knows. That just leaves your perspective, if you’ll let me hear it.”

The outline of his humanoid face wavers then vanishes. Ignis retreats altogether, leaving unlit ash in his wake. That was…unexpected. As much I want to learn what happened between him and Nana, I know it’ll take time. Hopefully before Christmas week rolls around. Interfering with my friends’ holiday break isn’t an option and neither is causing Dad further distress. But for now, there’s plenty to do pass the time.

It doesn’t take long to inflate the air mattress and unpack the bedding. Or plug in Nana’s old portable heater. My clothes stay put inside my suitcase, but I drop off my nighttime essentials in the nearby guest bathroom. Mason’s suspicions about rotten wood weakening the second floor were dead on, so the upstairs is off-limits for now.

With all of that taken care of, I kick off my boots, grab my laptop and the mobile wi-fi hotspot, then settle on the loveseat across from the sofa. The lumpy cushioning keeps me alert while doing some early job searching.

I break for lunch after bookmarking a few promising offers and call up Mica. The twins soon arrive and we head into town for food and groceries. Ignoring the suspicious stares from the other shoppers would be easier if Mason and Mica weren’t giving each other the silent treatment. Even the drive back to Nana’s house is awkward with the air charged with an undercurrent of anger.

It’s sad to say, but I’m happier once I’m left alone again. As the day slowly dwindles into night, I make dinner then tuck myself into bed. The dark fireplace is the last thing I see before drifting away. It soon becomes a common sight.

Ignis remains unseen the next day. And he doesn’t appear during following day, either. Worry starts to gnaw at my mind, but I keep busy as best I can.

Clearing Nana’s garden of weeds and wild plants takes an old pair of gloves, lots of elbow grease, and the better part of the day. But it’s worth the sharp aches and stiff fingers once I’m able to see usable soil. With careful planning and the right fertilizer, it’ll be green again. That is, if I can remember what Nana used to grow.

I drop onto the couch and take a much-needed sip from my bottled water. Glancing at the dark fireplace, my curiosity gets the better of me.

“Any ideas about what plants would grow best in the backyard?” I ask.

Nothing. Not even a hint of cinders. Sighing, I flick some dirt from my cheek and get up.

“Abigail was fond of daylilies.”

I freeze in my tracks. Ignis looks at me with that same unreadable expression.

“At least,” he says, “that’s what I heard during the times I was aware.”

My chill-bitten lips stretch into a grin. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“Thanks! I’ll give them a try.”

Progress is slow but steady after that. Ignis becomes more open to talking, and even though I’m left leading our conversations, he still provides his own opinions and ideas. He tells me that he likes the sunrise, since the sight reminds him a growing flame. But he prefers the darkest of night as that’s when he used to shine brightest. When I ask him about any powers he may have, he tells me to be patient. The next day, to curb my excitement, I decide to tackle re-painting Nana’s front door.

“You may want to come inside,” he calls out a few hours later through the open front door.

I wipe the back of my hand against my cheek, smearing more burgundy paint onto my skin. My old overalls and sweater are completely wrecked, still stained with streaks of dirt from Nana’s garden. And a break sounds wonderful, to be honest.

The moment I step inside with the paint can and brush, rain starts pouring down in a steady torrent. My mouth drops open as lightning streaks across the sky.

“But how did you know?” The forecast didn’t predict any showers.”

Ignis snorts, the light of his flame brightening temporarily.

“Nature is as unpredictable as she wishes to be, regardless of the instruments humans use to try and quantify her.

“Oh?” I say teasingly. “Is that right?”

“Yes. And the cool air blowing in told me all I needed to know.”

This is all just another small part about him, but it still leaves me wanting more.

“Think I can learn how to do that?” I ask “Or is it a special elemental thing?”

“Perhaps,” he says. “You’ve shown an aptitude for many things. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did the same with this.”

His warm reply sends a pleasant shiver down my spine and it takes all my willpower to keep a straight face. Deciding I’m done with chores for the day, I give Ignis a quick ‘thanks’ and head to the bathroom to clean up.

Friday night rolls around with Ignis and I having grown more comfortable with one another. We converse a lot more and he keeps me company as I continue to job search, asking questions about the process. I answer him as best I can, but some of my explanations fall short. He tells me doesn’t mind at all and his words send a rush of happiness through my body.

“Are all humans required to sit through an ‘interview’?”

I hum and close my laptop.

“Honestly, I think it depends on the job—”

Glass shatters. A heavy weight hits the floor; a rock. It settles against the rug just as a black-sleeved arm shoots through the broken windowpane. It bends up and starts struggling with the window latch. I jump to my feet and back away.

“G-go away! I’ll call the cops!”

More glass shatters and my stomach drops.

We took care of the doors, but overlooked the windows’ old locks. If the intruder gets in, they’ll see me and then I’ll be—

“Stay calm, Simone.”

A calming heat washes over my shaking body and I remember how to nod my head.

“Close your eyes and trust me.”

Biting back a sob, I huddle against the couch and screw my eyes shut. A blinding, white light pierces through the darkness of my eyelids for a few brief moments. Against the brilliance, there’s a scream. Then, nothing. Only silence.

“They’re gone,” Ignis says in a weak voice. “You can look now.”

I do. The only sign of the intruder that remains are the shredded tatters of their black sleeve clinging to the broken glass. Ignis is still present, but not as a brightly burning fire. He’s nothing more than the cinders and sparking in the glowing red fireplace.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice straining.

I jump over my fallen laptop and scramble towards him.

“Me? What about you?”

“It seems…I expended a greater deal of energy than originally planned. Strained too much against my restraints. If the intruder comes again, I won’t be of much help.”

Restraints? My eyes dart around the fireplace and find two identical marks, both glowing a molten red. Two triangles enclosed by two perfect circles. But the marks aren’t etchings. In fact, they look just like…

“Bloodstains. That’s how Nana sealed you.”

Ignis doesn’t reply. And the light from the cinders is growing dim.

“You wanted to hear my side of things, didn’t you? Call for help, and I will tell you.”

“But I—”

“Please, Simone.”

The heavy fear his plea urges me to locate my phone. My thumbs tap against the touch screen and hit the dial button. A low ring fills the living room three times until—

“Hello? Simone?”

Relief floods by body at the sound of Mason’s groggy voice and I let out a hitched sob. I tell him about the attempted break-in and he immediately comes around. In just a few minutes, he and Mica are inside of his truck, the engine roaring to life in the background. Mason’s voice sound stronger when he speaks again.

“Stay on the line. We’ll be there soon, alright?”

I rub at my eyes with the heels of my palms and promise to do so. Then, I turn back to Ignis. The cinders’ light pulses for a moment, then dims.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Please don’t.” More hot tears scald my cheeks. “You’re dying. You’re…”

“As promised, let me tell you my story.”

The usual steadfast bravado in his voice isn’t present. And the cinders are growing dimmer. But I agree all the same.

“My first memory of humanity is of my captor, binding me to an engraved, glass flask. I had no one but my younger, cocky self to blame. My captor soon sold me for a hefty sum of gold and from there I was exchanged by many hands: philosophers, merchants, nobles, kings. Even Paracelsus possessed me for a moment in time. Each and every one of them never attempted to free me.

“Soon enough, I arrived here in the New World by way of ship. It was a miserable journey crossing the ocean, almost torture. Back on land, my last handler hoarded me, wanting to use my knowledge to become wealthy. But he was discovered conversing with me and deemed a heretic. He ran and unknowingly dropped me in a dense, forested area. I could do nothing but wait and observe. Until one day, a ray of light found me: Abigail.”

He’s still slowly fading. I swallow down the painful lump building in my throat and dig my nails into my palms.

“You loved her,” I croak out.

“Yes. But before then, I only saw her as a means to an end. I tried to trick her into releasing me, but she was too clever. Instead, she sincerely offered me her friendship. After everything I went through, all the years of powerlessness, I was stunned. A mere slip of a girl offering me something so simple? Out of curiosity, I agreed. I soon forgot about wanting to be set free, but Abigail didn’t. Somehow, she found a way to release me from the flask. From that moment on, I already knew my heart belonged to her. But the love she felt for me was only friendship.

“When I learned she had fallen in love with your grandfather, my jealousy consumed me. And in my rage, I threatened to burn down the town with him in it. In return, Abigail asked me to meet her inside her home in three days’ time. I’m ashamed to say I thought she would come to her senses by then and renounce her love for your grandfather. But instead, she bound me using her own blood. And here I stayed, partially aware of the passing time. Of her husband and her only son…and later, you.”

He’s only a few glowing cinders at this point. Almost gone. I ignore the sharp pain of my nails cutting through my skin and bite back a sob.

“It’s strange,” he says weakly. “But I just remembered something from that day.”

“What?”

“Abigail was crying as she sealed me away. My anger back then blinded me to that. And now, I’ve made you cry. Please forgive me, Simone.”

It’s funny. Even as an utter wreck kneeling on the ground, I can’t help but wonder. Could Ignis and Nana have reconciled if Ignis had let go of his anger earlier? Would Nana have released him? Would we have met under different circumstances? I’ll never know. But as I unclench my hands, I realize I still have an option left to use.

“Simone?”

This is a huge risk I’m taking. I don’t even know if this will help or make things worse. But his voice is so weak and it’s the only thing I can think of.

“Trust me, okay Ignis?”

“What are you—”

I slam my bleeding palms against the sides of the fireplace. Right on top of Nana’s original seals. A scream pierces my ears and echoes in my blood. A brutal heat engulfs my body, growing in intensity. I shut my eyes to it all, and soon feel myself falling.

_____________________________________________

When my eyes open, I’m not in pain. Even though I should be. Instead, my body is blanketed by a gentle warmth.

“There you are,” a familiar voice whispers.

The well-built man cradling me in his lap looks down at me with ruby-red eyes. His long, thick black curls stand out against his deep russet skin. He smiles down at me, a kind gesture that highlights the slight bump in the bridge of his wide nose. A soothing heat seeps into my hands and sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. Slowly, the blisters covering my palms flatten into normal, healthy skin.

“But how…?”

“You did mention wanting to learn more about my powers, didn’t you? Although that was a rather careless way of doing so.”

It can’t be.

“Ignis?”

His smile widens into a mischievous grin.

“In the flesh,” he says.

My mind can’t connect the living flame in the fireplace to the man holding me. Because something is missing. As he examines my hands for more injuries, I slowly lift them and place them against his cheeks. He leans into my touch and I bite my bottom lip to steady myself.

“This isn’t what you really look like, is it?”

He stiffens. I keep holding his gaze and eventually feel the tension in his body seep away. He shakes his head.

“Show me. Please?”

Ignis closes his eyes. And slowly, his human appearance evaporates away. The russet tone of his body gives way to black skin, fissured with what looks like molten lava. But the cracks are organic and follow the natural lines of his large, humanoid body. His real form has no mouth or ears, but two white, hot eyes lacking pupils. And his hands are tipped with sharp claws that lightly ghost across my arms.

“This,” he says, “is the true me.”

He starts to pull away from my hands, but I coax him down and press a kiss to the smooth, surface of his cheek. Ignis looks at me stunned and I grin.

“What? I’m just saying thank you for taking care of me.”

Ignis’ expression softens into something that makes my heart race. He chuckles then nuzzles against the side of my head.

“I think I should be the one thanking you.”

I’m content to stay in Ignis’ arms until I fall asleep. But I know that won’t be possible. The familiar hum of an approaching engine is proof of that.

But as long as we have each, we’ll face and overcome whatever comes next. Together.

#monster boyfriend #monster/human #monster romance #fire elemental boyfriend #exophilia #once I get over this illness #I'll start on part three #my writing #female reader #fem reader

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strongsassysexysloane · 4 years

Text

Take me for a Ride, Jack..2

So I’ve got more assignments than I thought to do before I go to LA for Paleyfest NCIS so chapters may not come out a regularly as I originally planned.. However... This is the motorbike I have in mind..

. . . .

To say the next half hour in Jack's office was uncomfortable would be an understatement. At least you think it was half an hour, when you turn to leave and check the clock it was only ten minutes. You sigh to yourself, Jack didn't mention anything, just down to business, asking the questions she needed and you answered. No quips, sassed remarks or winks you'd come to love. Wait, no, like. You'd come to like.

You guessed it was because time was running out on this one, any proof probably getting buried deeper and Ellie and Nick couldn't survive the married life much longer. At least that's the text you got this morning from Ellie wishing she could have one minute away from Nick. You laughed because they usually spent most weekends off together and go to the same bars most Friday nights but living together 24/7 was a bit too much.

You went and saw Kasie to see if she had any updates but you knew she didn't. With hardly any forensics to go off she was having a hard time helping with the case but you chatted for a bit, discussing Ellie and Nick's situation before your phone alerted you that a search that you were running came back so it was back up to the bullpen.

It took until the end of the day however to finally nail the guy. Ellie and Nick returned with the bad guy in cuffs. He'd had an affair with the wife, except she didn't plan on leaving her husband and this guy thought that justified murder.

"No offence Nick but this weekend. No goat Yoga, please." Ellie practically fell into her chair.

"Oh come on, it was only a few days." Nick blew her off.

"I don't care, you do more push ups than the whole office, listen to the worst music and you chew REALLY loud." The last comment made everyone laugh and Nick pouted in his seat.

"You know you're not much-" He stopped, receiving a glare from Ellie and one from Gibbs. "You're great Bishop."

"Finish your reports and hit the rack." Gibbs ordered, tapping something on his keyboard then walking out.

Thankfully after that long case you didn't get a call in for another two days. An actual two day weekend. It was a bloody miracle. You spent most of it catching up on house work, a nice breakfast with your sister and more apartment hunting.

When the call came early morning after two days rest you welcomed the call although sleeping in until 0630 would've been a nicer way to start, oh yeah and not a dead petty officer. You all caught up about what happened over your two days off while investigating the crime scene. No one had an eventful weekend, just some well needed rest done by all well except Gibbs who didn't chime in.

You, Ellie and Nick drove back to HQ while Gibbs and McGee followed a lead given to them by a neighbour at the crime scene. While walking to the entrance of the building you turned when you heard a roar, you missed that sound. It was the pur of a motorbike pulling into the carpark a few metres away. You stopped to check out the bike and the sleek woman riding her. You'd spoken in length to Nick a few times about his bike, he even offered to take you for a ride but you declined saying if you couldn't ride her, you wouldn't ride at all. He scoffed at that but appreciated the love of bikes.

Ellie and Nick stopped shortly after you but you didn't see Ellie's smirk at your expression and interest in the person- bike because Ellie knew exactly who was riding it and you had your suspicions as well. You watched as the woman stretched and slid off the bike. It was only when she started lifting her helmet, facing you, that you saw the tips of blonde hair and swallowed hard, you guessed right. She had on almost knee high black boots that covered up her skin tight dark denim jeans and a zipped up black leather jacket. You scratched the back of your neck nervously, obviously being caught, and walked a bit closer.

"We'll catch you inside Y/N." Ellie shouted at you which only made you blush harder and you waved off her, seeing Nick not so happily being dragged off.

"Like what you see?" Jack rested the helmet on her hip, under her arm and watched you approach.

"She's a bute." You nodded to the bike, the fire still burning on your cheeks and tips of your ears. "She yours?" Possibly a bit too much surprise in your voice as Jack slightly frowned.

"Sure is, I got her as a late Christmas present to myself a few months ago. Good price, she needed a few things fixed, still does but she's worth it." Jack patted the side of her bike and walked around to the back, undoing her bag strapped down.

You smile at the way she obviously calls her bike a female. "Sleek, sexy, purrs like a goddess." You want to face palm yourself after letting your thoughts slip from your lips. Jack's back is thankfully turned towards you so she cant see you drop your head back and run your hand through your hair because you know she's thinking of a sassy innuendo to tease you with.

"Who told you about me?" She grins mischievously, sexy as hell, turning around, slipping her bag on her shoulder.

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face along with the still evident blush and you just shake you head. "How was your days off?" Changing the subject was a safe bet and one Jack thankfully went along with.

She shrugged her shoulders as you walk side by side into work. "Only got yesterday off because Dawson's team needed help the day before but I'll probably get this weekend off unless your case needs assistance. But I spent most of yesterday under her, covered in grease but it was worth it. As you said she purrs like a goddess now, just like me." You bump her shoulder for the sassy remark.

"I'm never going to live this down am I?" Truthfully, you hoped she never did.

"Not in the foreseeable future, no." She bumps your shoulder and you just discuss the case as you ride the elevator up to the bullpen.

"Let me know if you need any profiling done or need to bounce some ideas around." Jack smiled, winked and kept walking up to her office as you turned into the bullpen.

"Did she take you for a spin?" Nick smirked from resting his hip on Ellie's desk.

You shake your head with a smile, thankfully the blush had vanished once you exited the elevator. "No, like I told you. I drive, I'm not a passenger." You drop your bag behind your desk and walk back over to Ellie's.

"We thought you might change your mind, considering..." Nick trailed off, nudging his chin upstairs, obviously in the direction of Jack's office.

"We?" You look over to Ellie with a raised eyebrow.

"Think the whole office knows you two have a thing. The flirting is glaringly obvious." Ellie leans back in her chair, fiddling with a pen in her fingers.

You try your best to hide a smile but it fails. "We do not have a thing."

Thankfully the subject is dropped as Bishop gets a lead. Torres walks back to his desk, actually doing some work before Gibbs and McGee gets back. You go down to Kasie to see if she has anything but the evidence was just being categorised and you help her sort through a few things.

It isn't long before Ellie and Nick follow a lead on a suspect that the victim had a bar fight with a few nights ago leaving you alone in the office as McGee and Gibbs haven't come back yet.

"Need any bouncing?" She purrs as she pops up beside your desk, sipping her coffee with her spare hand on her hip.

"Nope, just looking over everyone's notes from the crime scene, writing up my report." Jack nods, walking around to stand off to your left, you can feel her hand that was on her hip move to rest on the back of your chair as she looks over your shoulder. You feel her thumb brush against your back, thinking it's by mistake but then she repeats the movement. You swallow hard and try your best to keep typing however you can't think straight and turn your head slightly, her hair tickles your cheek. You love it when she wears it down.

"I'm bored." She shrugs, straightening back up with a smirk.

"Surely there's some report or profile you need to do." You try your best to not lean back into her touch which is still happening against your back.

"Oh I have plenty but kitty cat needed a distraction." She takes a sip from her cup, you think you see a slight flush to her cheeks.

You snap your head up to see her smug smile. "Kitty cat?"

"Because I purr.." She says it like its the most obvious thing. You just shake your head and let a laugh slip from your lips, she's relentless.

"Am I doing a good job?" You lean back into her touch as emphasis. Yes, definitely a flush to her cheeks, you get a kick out of it and love how the tables can turn.

Jack swallows a bit slower than normal her smugness disappearing at your bluntness. You smirk at her, the thumb movement faltering for a second. So she can dish out the flirting but when its reciprocated she gets flustered. Noted.

"I'm glad." You didn't need her reply and she huffs out a quiet laugh.

You both hear the ding of the elevator and you hold back a groan as she slips her hand off your chair. Gibbs and McGee exit the elevator with the suspect they went to question in handcuffs. McGee waltzes him down to interrogation while Gibbs walks in and slips his coat off, resting it on the back of his office chair.

"Where's Bishop and Torres?" He doesn't look up from placing his gun and badge in his drawer.

"Following a lead." You answer, going back to your report.

"No more leads?" He walks over to stand in front of your desk, looking from Jack down to your concentrated face directed at your computer screen.

"Not on my end." You look up and swear there's a slight smirk on his lips. He raises an eyebrow at Jack waiting for her to answer.

"Got nothing for you Gibbs." She sips her coffee.

"You helping Y/N with her report?" He counters. There's definitely some levity to his tone, anyone else and it would've been clipped but not to Jack. The thought made your stomach twist. You scoff and that draws the attention back to you which is the last thing you wanted. "If you got nothing better to do, McGee and I are about to question our suspect." He looks from you to Jack and turns and walks to interrogation.

"Guess I'll see you later." Jack follows Gibbs and you instantly miss her presence, miffed that Gibbs drew her away. You shake away that thought and get back to your work.

. . . .

Again, sorry if the case stuff is blah but im trying to work on my story telling and not just jump them into bed LOL. Let me know what you think :)

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #ncis #fanfic

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gilbertsannegirl · 4 years

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She Had Dreamed Some Brilliant Dreams During the Past Winter

Merry Christmas to @anne-shirley-blythe! Sorry it’s late but I had a lot of fun writing this fic for you and I hope that you thoroughly enjoy it. Hope you had a wonderful christmas x And thank you @kindredspiritssecretsanta (@royalcordelia) for throwing such a wonderful event and can’t wait for next year to roll around again.

Read it on AO3

Last Years Fic

Summary: An AU story set in their second year of college, my take on Anne and Gilbert’s engagement. This particular story is set a year after my Christmas story last year, so it makes more sense if you read that once first, but you don’t have to.

Crisp snow crunched under Gilbert Blythe’s boots and broke the silence of the early morning. The earth was still at rest and the sun had begun to peak over the blanket of white that covered every surface of the ground. Having fallen during the night, the snow was almost unbroken by sleds or feet. However, there was a sure path from the Blythe’s front porch all the way to the gate of Green Gables where the culprit now stood. In the gloom of the morning, Gilbert could just make out the window of the east gable that belonged to his beloved. In the act of a supposed grand gesture, he located a few small pebbles peaking out from under the snow and carefully threw them at Anne’s window.

A rustle of curtains revealed her. Still clad in her nightwear, she gestured for him to stay right where he was, and Gilbert couldn’t help the sly grin and chuckle that escaped as soon as he saw her.

“It is so very Anne of her to go along with my ridiculousness, isn’t it?” he murmured, facing away from the window now and looking out on the expanse of the white world in front of him. In the gloom of the dawn Gilbert could see the lights of various farmers’ homes begin to flicker into existence. Although not the most ideal weather, he still loved crisp winter mornings such as these. Tomorrow would bring Christmas and hopefully a new season of his life.

The door to Green Gables creeped open, and despite Anne’s best efforts a quiet screech from the worn hinges echoed through the silence. Gilbert turned to see her step out of the house. She was wrapped in a scarf and winter coat and was pulling gloves on as she slunk across the porch. He thought she had never looked more beautiful with the red glow of the morning light painting shadows across her face, highlighting freckles and tendrils of hair peaking out from under her hat.

“Gilbert Blythe,” she hissed. “What do you think you are doing sneaking around at this hour in the morning? Rachel will have my head if she knows I’ve come out to see you so early.” She sighed then, tipping her head up to feel the early sunlight crawl under the exposed skin of her face, the warmth flooding her cheeks. “Oh, but it is so good to see you. When did you get back?” She stepped closer, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the curls at the back of his head.

Gilbert wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well, Miss. Shirley, I think Mrs. Lynde knows by now that you are not fully to blame for everything that happens between us. Considering that I am the one who took us for a picnic in the snow last year, which was probably not the best idea.” Anne grinned at that, and he continued, “You know, I rather like these early mornings, they bring out the green in your eyes.” She hummed, and he took the opportunity of a deserted world to press his lips against hers briefly. “And to answer your question, I came back last night and was dying to see you.” She sighed and pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. Gilbert reciprocated.

The creaky step broke their embrace, and both spun to see Davy rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. “Gee Gilbert I sure bet Anne is glad to see you,” he yawned. “But isn’t it awful early to be going out?” They smiled politely at him and both saw the young man Davy was growing to be since the summer of their last visit. He was standing much taller now and was beginning to take on most of the duties around the farm with the help of Mr. Harrison.

“Right you are, Davy-boy. But you see, Anne and I need to get over to Carmody to do some shopping for my mother’s Christmas Eve dinner which you know you are all invited to. Besides, it can be a bit tricky on these roads and you never know when you can run into some trouble with the sleigh. We best be leaving and you best be starting to work around here I suppose. We won’t keep you, just let the others know that I’ve whisked Anne away this morning, will you?” Gilbert grinned at Davy’s curt nod, “Thank you.”

“Thank you Davy, we’ll be back before lunch,” Anne finished. With a wave, Gilbert and Anne went to the stables to hitch up the sleigh. She grabbed the blankets while he checked to see if everything was in order with the sleigh and they weren’t in danger of anything breaking on them. Gilbert nodded at Anne and they both climbed in, carefully arranging and draping blankets over themselves. He winked at her as he slid one hand under the blanket to grasp hers, and she laughed, “Gilbert, don’t you need both hands to drive the sleigh?”

“On the contrary, Anne-girl, I think I can do it with one hand if it means I can hold yours,” he replied smugly, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. She beamed at him as he clicked the reins and the horse plodded forwards leaving behind the stables for the open plains of Avonlea. “Oh, I also have a few planned stops along the way. I figured you wouldn’t mind coming out early to spend some time together before we have to return to be with our families. I think we rather deserve it after the beginning of the school year we’ve had, considering that I’ve only just come back from finishing my examinations.”

“Don’t you think we spend enough time together already, Gil? I can hardly deter you from Patty’s Place as it is,” she teased. He chuckled, rolling his eyes in fondness and she tucked herself more into his side. There was a certain air between them that had always existed, although Anne hardly saw it until a year ago with that picnic in the snow. A teasing relationship filled with mutual respect for each other’s wisdom, wit and character. She realised after the kiss under the mistletoe last year that they had always been and forever would be kindred spirits, soulmates, life partners, and best friends.

The sleigh came to a halt and Anne looked out of the sleigh, her eyes landing on Barry’s Pond or, as she had named it, the Lake of Shining Waters. At this time of year, however, there wasn’t much lake left because of the glistening ice that lay firm over the water’s surface. She glanced back at Gilbert and saw his eyes shifting over her as if he was memorising everything about her. She raised her eyebrows. Shaking his head and shifting his eyes back to hers, he murmured, “Do you remember the time that I asked you to be my friend by the waters edge?” He chuckled then, “You were so petty, considering that I had just saved your life.” Grinning as Anne gave him a playful slap on the arm, “Ouch! A feisty one too; matches your hair, Carrots.”

“Oh, you really thought I would forgive you after everything you did, Mr. Blythe? I hardly thought you were worthy of redemption; it was only later that I regretted everything I said to you that day. You really went and ignored me after that? I don’t think that helped the situation at all, dearest.” Gilbert gave a sigh at that, and Anne dropped her red head into the crook of his neck. He felt her lips move before hearing the words, “I love you, and I love you all the more for forgiving me after the fool I made of myself in the first five years of knowing each other.”

“I love you too, Anne-girl. I’ve loved you since the day you broke that slate over my head, and I’ll love you until our journey comes to an end,” Gilbert replied, kissing her hair.

“Oh Gil! How did I ever tell Marilla that you weren’t my idea of a romantic suitor when you are the most romantic person I know?” Anne grinned, pulling her head out of his neck. Gilbert beamed leaning forward to place a soft, slow kiss on her lips.

“Come now, don’t get all sentimental on me yet. I still have one more place to take you before Carmody and it seems the sun is only getting higher in the sky, my love.” Gilbert started the horses on a trot again and Anne hummed as she watched the trees overcrowd the image of her beloved lake. Being whisked around Avonlea by Gilbert on a cold winters day wasn’t unusual, but Anne wished they would go somewhere warm soon. The cold air was bringing out an unflattering flush to her cheeks, highlighting her freckles and hair. This was both to Anne’s annoyance and Gilbert’s pleasure.

It was to her slight dismay when he slowed to a stop outside the group of trees she knew so well. It was certainly not warm in there, but then again she had missed the Dryad’s Bubble immensely during her semester at Redmond. She side-eyed Gilbert who possessed a smug grin, before saying, “Oh, so this has become our Christmas Eve spot? Alright then Gilbert, but I don’t really want to walk all the way in there. It’s snowed a lot more this year and I’m not sure that we can make it in.”

“Not to worry, Anne-girl.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him before replying, “I was just going to sit out here and reminisce on last year. Do you remember what I gave you for Christmas?”

Anne beamed. “How could I forget? Darling, I wear it every day, you know that.” She fished under her coat for the delicate necklace, the small pink heart glistened against her palm as she looked down at it. “Oh, it’s the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received, besides you of course.”

It was Gilbert’s turn to blush, and before he could talk himself out of it he whispered, “Well I have a far greater gift for you this year. How would you like another piece of jewellery, my love?” Anne’s brows furrowed and she pulled back from him a little, dropping the pendant back against her throat. “The promise that comes along with this though is far more precious and it would mean the world if you say yes.”

“Gil… Do you mean…?” Anne’s eyes began to well up and Gilbert pulled out a circlet of peals, a ring she had dreamed about for years, “Gilbert Blythe, are you really asking me this?” A tear slid down her cheek and Gilbert quickly brought his thumb up to catch it.

“Yes, my dear Anne-girl. I’m asking you this, and I mean it with all my heart. I don’t want anything more in this life than you! We’ve been officially courting for a year, but I think I’ve been courting you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I think 9 years is long enough to make a man wait, don’t you?” Anne laughed, her throat choking on the sound. “So, my lovely Anne, will you marry me?”

“Oh, darling you don’t need to ask twice! Yes, with all my heart, yes!” Anne flung her arms around him now crying openly against his neck, the pearls he bought suiting the saying pearls are for tears in that very moment. She pulled back from the embrace placing her hands on either side of his face, her thumbs running under his eyes to catch his wayward tears. She brought her lips to his in an unhurried kiss.

Gilbert pulled away first. “Anne I’ll put this ring on your finger on one condition.” Her eyes met his, glistening with the unshed tears she was somewhat holding back and nodded her head at him. “We get married as soon as possible. I know that we still have two years of college left, and then I have three years of medical school, God willing. But Anne-girl promise me we’ll get married as soon as we can afford to, because I don’t think I can wait five more years to wake up to your face every morning.”

“Gil, even if our families think we are crazy, as soon as we finish our Arts degrees, I am marrying you. I promise you every day of my life from this point onwards. Oh Gil, I love you so!” Anne flung her arms back around his neck and Gilbert gasped at her boldness but wrapped his arms around her waist all the same. He pushed her away a little bit and grabbed her hand, sliding the snug ring into place, and Anne knew it had always belonged there. No questions asked, they would be married in two and a half years.

Gilbert directed the sleigh towards Carmody, and they rode away together, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.*

*Anne of the Island, Chapter 41 Love Take Up the Glass of Time

#annesecretsanta #anne of green gables #aogg #anne with an e #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #anne fanfiction #shirbert fanfiction

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Tumblr ate the ask again so I hope the anon that requested this finds their prompt. Sorry!

The prompt request was along these lines: Roman is still upset with Janus and "accidently" breaks something important to him, making him regress. Maybe Virgil or Patton find and take care of him?

A Little Upset

Summary: Still not over the events of the last video, Roman "accidentally" breaks something very important to Janus. Upset and stressed with seemingly no one to turn to, Janus' age regresses to that of a four year old, locking himself away in his room to wait it out. The last side he expected to care finds him and helps make it better.

Warnings: Roman being petty, blood and injury mention; if I missed any just tell me!

Ships: none

Patton smiled encouragingly as Janus took a seat at the table, turning back around quickly to poke at the pancakes intent on not burning them this time. He took his hat off slowly, wanting to be respectful, and fidgeted with the thermos he had brought from the other kitchen. It was a translucent pale yellow with little snakes with bowties patterned all over the surface of the plastic. Virgil and Remus had worked on it together some years ago as a gift for Christmas and dispite their now rocky relationship he was hoping that seeing the old gift would make Virgil...tolerate him? Maybe start a conversation? Sighing he got up to look for a drink from the fridge just as Roman walked into the kitchen.

He and Janus froze as they caught sight of each other and the air immediately turned tense. He saw Pattons shoulders rise slightly and guiltily looked away, offering Roman a hesitant nod while he unscrewed the thermos and set it on the table as he continued towards the fridge. He didn't expect Roman to not be upset with him; he understood completely that he had taken it too far but then again so had Roman. He knew the creative side had laughed at Virgil's name as well and that had honestly made it even harder for him to even consider making himself that vulnerable, but it had been the only thing he had known to do to establish some level of trust between him and the others. Plus, he glanced back over to Patton, it was worth it for pancakes.

He turned around holding a jug of milk that was thankfully not expired just as Roman brushed past him, purposefully bumping his hip against the table as he did. The thermos wobbled and Janus was not nearly quick enough this early in the morning to prevent it from falling. Time felt like it slowed as it smashed onto the ground and a piece from the bottom broke off from the spidering cracks. Distantly he heard Patton gasp and plates clanking together as Roman hummed a simple tune but for all the distractions he couldn't bring himself to look up yet. He slowly leaned down to pick up the peices, tearing up as he realized he wouldn't be able to fix it like how it was before. His powers didn't fix things, they disguised things. Virgil and Remus had worked hard on making this together and now...

"How childish can you be?" He growled out, effectively cutting off the semi-cheerful humming.

Roman scoffed, not sparing him a glance as he set the table - with only four plates he noticed - and crossed the floor again to get glasses. "It's only a cup, just conjure a new one."

Janus stood up angrily and clutched the ruined peices to his chest. "I can't conjure things like that and you know it! I don't even have the capabilities to fix this and you think nothing of ruining the one thing I brought up with me? Your immaturity is-"

"Is what?" Roman whirled around. "As bad as Remus'? Worse? You think just because you're out here with us that means everything is somehow fine?!"

"Roman." Patton was looking at the creative side with a mix of concern and...anger? The pan was thankfully empty as it seemed to be forgotten for the time being.

Hearing the warning in his voice, Roman deflated a bit before turning away. "Whatever."

Patton shot Roman a hard look before looking over at the man still clutching the broken thermos to his chest. "Janus-"

He quickly turned away from Patton's gentle tone, sinking down into his room without a second glance.

Tears threatened to spill over as he tried in vain to blink them back, cursing as he collapsed in his bed and pulled the covers over himself completely. Roman was right, this was completely childish. Crying over something as small as a broken cup. He curled around it protectively even as the jagged edge cut into his palm. But Virgil and Remus had worked so hard on this. Virgil keeping Remus' more suggestive designs off of the gift and Remus reigning in his creativity enough to make something they knew Janus would actually like. Even if they had put the snakes on it as a joke he still loved it, they even managed to get it his favorite shade of yellow.

But now it was broken. The one thing he had from before their unit became tense, when they had been like a little family of their own. Now he couldn't use it and so he had no reason to bring it out again, which meant Virgil would never see it and that meant there would be no conversation starter other than 'what are you doing here?'; no neutral ice breaker to start them thinking about how things used to be and to start them talking about how things could be again. It would just be him and his unwanted presence and stupid dishwashing yellow gloves and cape he wore because he couldn't have his blanket weight around his shoulders and hat to hide his curly hair that none of the others had so he didn't understand why he did and...and...

In his frazzled thoughts he barely noticed the bed becoming larger around him, the hill of blankets becoming a small mountain while he curled further into himself. He only noticed his drastically reduced size when he cracked his eyes open and realized just how difficult it was to hold the thermos when his hands were so much smaller than they had been.

A sob escaped his throat as he realized what had happened, the stress of the situation bearing down on a mind that was ill equipped to deal with it. Not only did everyone hate him for trying to help in the only way he knew how to get their attention but now he was small and his hand hurt where the broken plastic still dug into his palm and he couldn't stop crying. He wanted comfort but there was no one outside his room that would be willing to give it to him, especially since no one knew this happened when he got upset enough. No one except...

He cried harder, clutching the cup closer to him and burying his face onto the suffocating blankets further to try and drown out the sound, resigned to being trapped in his room for the foreseeable future.

------

Virgil stepped into the warm kitchen carefully, having heard yelling just an hour earlier and wanting to be sure the air was relatively clear before following the smell of pancakes. Patton was still at the table picking at his stack with an uncharacteristic frown on his face, Logan sat across from him with his usual coffee and phone while Roman stabbed angrily at his plate as if it had personally attacked him. Debating whether or not to stay the rumbling in his stomach made the decision for him, making him sigh with hunched shoulders before fully revealing himself to grab the stack set aside for him.

"Morning kiddo." Patton mumbled, the usual cheerfulness gone from his voice.

Raising an eyebrow and looking at each of them in turn he grabbed the syrup to drown the unsuspecting pancakes in front of him. "Morning, Patton. What's uh....is everything good?"

His eyebrow raised higher as Roman huffed loudly. "I broke a cup by accident and hurt Deciet's feelings and now he won't come out of his room even though I already tried apologizing through the door."

"Janus. And Roman, you really upset him-"

"It was just a cup, Patton!"

"To you!" Patton raised his voice slightly, Dad Mode fully activated as he tried to drive his point home. "You don't know what kind of significance that might have held for him and if him crying was any indication it must have been important! He has every right not to forgive you right away-"

"He was crying?" Virgil cut in, worry curling in his gut despite the tension that had been present between them since Janus revealed his name.

Roman's cheeks burned with what Virgil hoped was shame as he quickly left the room, Patton turning back to his plate with a sigh. "Yes, he was. He was very upset and still is if his door being locked is anything to go by."

Virgil nodded, standing up with his pancakes to leave. "Thanks for the breakfast, I think I'll eat in my room."

He didn't hear Pattons response as he sunk out.

-----

Trying to pick a lock while balancing pancakes on your lap was not as easy as it sounded, but Vitgil was determined to get in the room. Anxiety burned through his veins as the lock finally clicked, hoping his worry was unwarranted.

Opening the door and looking immediately towards the tiny lump on the bed confirmed his worries. He closed and locked the door behind him before making his way quickly to the bed, setting the plate on the nightstand and crouching down carefully.

"Janus?" He said softly, wincing as the quiet sobbed cut off abruptly as the shaking stilled underneath the blankets. Virgil hadn't seen the other side like this in a long time, not since he left to join the "light sides" years ago. He still remembered to be gentle however as he tugged on the covers, pulling them down slowly when he didn't hear any protest.

"Dee?"

A red faced four year old curled up further into himself, tears still running down his face and snot smearing grossly across his cheek. His hat was gone allowing for tangled curls to splay across the pillow. Virgil gave him a hesitant smile as he held out a hand.

"I heard a little about what happened, do you wanna talk about it?"

The toddler hiccupped loudly and buried his face into the pillow, mumbling something that he couldn't catch.

"I can't hear you if you hide your face." Deciding to risk it he laid a careful hand on the others shaking shoulder, rubbing it softly when he wasn't pushed away. As he lowered his gaze to try and see what the other was holding he caught sight of something red staining the bedsheets underneath his hands.

His heart leapt in his throat. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Swallowing when all he recieved as an answer was another mumble he carefully slipped his other arm underneath the child, guiding him upright to try and find what was wrong. Janus, well Dee he supposed since at the moment he was little, was clutching what looked like a thermos to his heaving chest, sobs still suppressed as he gazed at Virgil fearfully. His heart broke at the expression, feeling horrible for making the child feel as if he had stopped caring. Looking closer he recognized the thermos; it was one he and Remus had made for him for Christmas years ago and suddenly everything clicked into place. Dee had most likely brought this to breakfast as a sort of peace offering and Roman had ruined what Dee had probably considered his only way of starting a conversation with Virgil. And he had been in here for an hour, upset and crying and afraid to seek help because he didn't think he could.

Virgil felt tears welling in his own eyes as he brushed them from Dee's, holding out his other hand in offering.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't come to me. Will you let me help you?"

Dee sniffed and looked down, slowly unclenching his fingers and leaning closer which Virgil took as consent. He slowly stood up and leaned down, scooping him up quickly and heading for the door. Unlocking and opening it with practiced ease he glanced out to make sure no one was around before heading quickly to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Plunking Dee down on the sink he gently took the thermos from his hands, glancing up quickly as he winced. The poor kid must have been gripping it for the entire hour he had been curled up, cramping his hands in the process. He smiled with sympathy and took the tiny hands in his own, flipping them while massaging slowly as he inspected the cut he assumed had come from the broken plastic. It had cut through the glove and pierced his palm though thankfully it didn't look very deep. Retrieving the first aid kit from under the sink he slipped off both gloves and set them aside, grabbing out antiseptic wipes and bandaids.

"This will sting a little." He warned before gently wiping up all the blood away from the wound, grimacing as the cleaning revealed several small cuts and punctures rather than one singular cut he had assumed to be there. Once it was clean he grabbed a roll of gauze instead, wrapping the hand securely and taping up the loose end. Smiling at his work he put everything away and stood back up.

"Better?" He asked.

The toddler pouted slightly. "Still hurts."

Taking the hand again Virgil threw away all of his scraped up dignity and brought the palm to his lips, blowing an extremely gentle raspberry and grinning as Dee snatched his hand away giggling. Humming soothingly Virgil wet a washcloth and brought it to his face, wiping up the accumulated snot and tears thoroughly before throwing it aside.

Dee looked back down and hesitated for a second before tears gathered in his eyes again and he thrusted out his arms, making frantic grabby hands at the older side.

"Hey, hey it's okay." Virgil quickly scooped him back up and bounced slightly, continuing to croon as he made his way back to the bedroom while his shoulder became more and more wet. "I got you, Dee, I promise."

He sat on the bed and continued to rock the small side while rubbing his heaving back to try and calm him down. "Would talking about it help?"

He began to panic as Dee only sobbed harder, cursing himself for becoming so bad at this.

"I was mean t-to Ro-Roman so he- *hic* he broke my fav- my favorite cup and I- I can't fix *hic* I can't fix it and it's the o-only th-thing I have left from when- from when you liked me and now its gone!"

Virgil's arms tightened around Dee as he wailed, regret stabbing through his stomach painfully. "Dee, I still like you-"

"No you don't! You n-never want me ar-around since you *hic* since you left!"

"Dee, sweetheart, I promise I still like you. Things are just...complicated right now because everything's still trying to smooth out." Virgil pulled him away slightly si he could look at him properly, reaching forward to wipe at his cheeks. "This is something we need to discuss more when you're big again, but for right now, I'm not lying Dee. I still love and care about you very much. What Roman did was wrong no matter the circumstances and you are completely within your right to be upset."

Dee calmed slightly, still looking unsure but thankfully he had stopped crying. Virgil smiled and gently booped his nose earning a small giggle in response.

"If you want, I can ask Remus about fixing your cup for you and maybe making it so it won't break?" Dee nodded frantically, twisting his fingers in his shirt as his tears stopped completely.

"Then that's what we'll do, but later okay? For right now Inbrought you some pancakes." He gestured over to the bedside table before stopping and making a face, almost mirroring the disgusted way Dee's nose scrunched up at the prospect of eating the now cold and mushy pile of breakfast.

"Gross." Virgil laughed at Dee's declaration, agreeing completely.

"Should of thought that through I guess. I can make you another stack if you want? We can even make shapes!"

Dee glanced over at him, dubious expression completely out of place on his young face. "Not hungry. And you only do blobs."

"Maybe I've gotten better!" He countered indignantly, grinning at the raised eyebrow his statement earned him. "Alright well we'll try that later then. Let's get you changed into something more comfortable for right now, yeah?"

He lifted the child up and over to sit on the bed rather than his lap and walked over to the dresser where he knew Dee still had his favorite pajamas. He looked exhausted and Virgil had no doubt that as soon as he was comfortable he'd be nodding off.

Digging through various articles of clothing he hummed in triumph as he found what he was looking for. He laughed at the look on Dee's face as he presented the article of clothing, quickly helping him change.

A few minutes later he was tucking the yellow snake onesie clad four year old snugly into his blankets, biting his lip to keep from squealing as Dee's tongue blepped out happily. He made a mental note that if Patton was ever trusted enough to care for Janus when he was like this to make sure all of them were wearing ear plugs.

He was just turning to grab the thermos, intending to get Remus to help him fix it when Dee called out to him quietly.

"Vee?"

Virgil turned and smiled gently. "What is it, Dee?"

"Will you stay?"

His heart melted at the small vulnerable face, his vocal chords unable to form "no" even if he had wanted them to.

"Of course I will."

Much later, when Janus woke up from his impromptu nap definitely feeling better than he had in a while, he startled at the feeling of another's arm wrapped around him, twisting to see Virgil still fast asleep behind him. And if all he did was smile and lay back down, closing his eyes contentedly to soak in the feeling of being warm and safe, no one had to know.

He knew they would be talking later, but knowing Virgil of all sides still cared about him enough to care for him at his most vulnerable made him a lot less nervous about his future.

This work and others are also available on AO3 if that platform works better for you! Prompt suggestions are still welcome. Please do not tag unsympathetic Roman.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #deciet sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus mention #age regression #roman being a snot #roman is upset and petty

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arcadeguk · 6 years

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coterie

coterie; an intimate and often exclusive group of persons with a unifying common interest or purpose

prompt: “sorry i’m protective over the things i love” + “anyone up for tacos?”

pairing: mainly yoongi x reader, appearances from everyone bc i can’t help myself

genre: fluff, angst, dangerous situations (?) it’s a gang au u know what’s up

a/n: outro tear has me whipped and i couldn’t decide who i wanted in this au so it’s everyone. also i love me a badass female lead character wow i can’t wait strap in bitches

cigarette smoke swirls in gentle columns around your face, tickling your nose and trailing the curves of your cheeks. the air smells of leather, men’s cologne, and dark, amber-colored whiskey - the kind that makes your chest burn and heave, but it brings you one step closer to euphoria, to heaven, to bliss. the lights are slow, and fade in between all the colors of the rainbow, throwing fluorescent spots of light onto the shadows that stand, milling around the room. the figures fail to reveal people, better yet black outlines of who they are, with no color or detail - nothing specific to offer. every once in a while, a blotch of violet will drip down the shoulder of a stockbroker from wall street, who’s currently trying to land at least three girls at once. an explosion of turquoise dapples the face of a woman who looks much older in daylight, but tonight, the darkness and her painted face shave 15 years off her life, and she could almost appear girlish to the men who are too drunk to think of their families at home, of the lives they live from 9 to 5. no - here, now, they’re as free as they’re ever going to be - and they know it. so another shot is downed, another sleazy smile thrown, accompanied by a $20 bill, and the night starts (or ends) for yet another pair.

“so, run this by me again, is this a bar or a super secret sex cult? because, at this point, i’m not entirely sure if there’s a difference” you mention, turning your head towards jung hoseok, the secondhand man on this mission, all while keeping your eyes glued on the multiple scenes going on in front of you. hoseok squints at the same tragedy you’re looking at, and sighs, slumps slightly on the bar you’re both seated at, before taking a long swig of his rum and coke. “god, this place is really like a fucking trainwreck, you wanna look away but you can’t” he murmurs into the glass, before taking another gulp, eyes squeezed shut.

setting the glass down, hoseok pulls his sleeve up slightly to reveal an expensive looking watch - one that you can’t remember if he paid for or he stole - he was awfully nimble, having gone from stealing petty change to slipping rolexes off mens’ wrist before he was 20. long, thin fingers adjust the face, giving an open-mouthed sigh once he realizes the time. hoseok glances towards the ominous looking black door at the end of the bar, the same one your precious, darling, hardened gang leader boyfriend min yoongi had disappeared behind approximately an hour and a half ago.

min yoongi was a creature of the night, a beast to be reckoned with, the fear, and yet the pride, of korea. by the tender age of 21 years old, he’d had korea under his thumb, sitting fat and happy in his 14 room penthouse apartment in seoul. lazing on his throne, yoongi could just watch the other gangs (whom he fondly referred to as the “ants under his feet”), as they fought and battled for their dearest min yoongi’s attention, love, and most of all - money. yoongi, however, needed no more allies, as he had found his family early on in life, creating an invincible bond with 6 other boys, who hailed from all over the country, convening in seoul on one unfortunate night, when a parking lot arms deal had gone bad. namjoon described it simply as “right time, right place”. you had always chuckled at this - solid, sure namjoon, who’d nearly taken a bullet that night for a boy he barely knew - a scrappy young man from daegu who was determined to either watch the world burn or lead it as it crumbled. needless to say, the boys found yoongi’s charisma, drive, and steady leadership irresistible, and that’s how they all ended up where they are now - seokjin most likely hovering over a computer, eyes flickering from surveillance screen to surveillance screen, while yelling at jeongguk and taehyung “to shut the fuck up some of us are trying to work”. namjoon is probably buried away in his office, planning the next job, making sure it’s “even better than the last”. meanwhile, jimin, hoseok, yoongi, and yourself found yourselves at this disgusting bar (sex cult? 50 shades thing? really who knew), ordering drinks and occasionally checking phones, watches, exits, lookouts, and doors.

your story, however, had a little more flavor. the gang, the mafia - it went by many names, but to you, it was home. a long childhood floating in between houses and apartments and police holding cells had left you with a very particular skill set, one that wouldn’t be any use of you to you in the “real world”. after graduating, you found yourself in the shittiest apartment known to man, in the (arguably) worst part of town, beating the absolute shit out of douchebag men on the streets who had been wanted by some group for one thing or another, all while swiping their wallets in the process (for your trouble, of course). however, one night, while desperately strapped for cash, you tried your luck at one of the hottest bars in town, managing to convince the bouncer to let you in (you still thank that red bodycon dress everyday). there, you had spotted a certain min yoongi, who had at least 7 models dripping from his elbows, smiling and smirking his way through the evening, making sure each and every person there was aware of the power he possessed. it would be so romantic to say that your eyes locked from across the room, that in that moment, wordless “i love you”’s had been exchanged, and you saw a flash forward of your lives together - a wedding, children, a gorgeous house, with a golden retriever thrown in to boot. again, romantic. but no.

you’d tried to steal his wallet, nearly salivating at the sight of his silver piercings, thick wallet, the diamond cufflinks, and the numerous rings that adorned his thin fingers, fingers that wrapped around a shot glass so deliciously. moments later, you found yourself bloodied, panting, and pressed up against the women’s bathroom wall. firm hands held you in place, one on your shoulder, the other biting into the soft flesh of your waist. the cold metal of his rings cut into your skin through your thin dress, and the urge to rip them off his stupidly beautiful hands and run away with them possessed you. your hands gripped his bicep and shoulder, as you frantically tried to ignore the way his lean muscles rolled under your fingertips, how his body adjusted under the pressure of your hands, or the devilish smirk he threw you under the dim lights - brown eyes sparkling like a kid on christmas morning. he scanned you up and down as he panted, attempting to catch his breath, tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the blood that bubbled from his lip. once his eyes had finally risen, he’d thrown you another world class smile, and spoke, hot breath fanning on your face, “i like you. a lot. looking for a job? or is beating men to a pulp in women’s restrooms a full time gig?”

you had snorted at his offer, and adjusted yourself in his hold, debating between breaking free or grabbing his face to suck it off for all it was worth. “no need to be such a dick” you sneered at him. pushing him back off you again, only for him to try and pull you closer. he rolled his eyes, casting them heavenward before letting the most sarcastic of smirks grace his face.

“sweetheart, that’s the last thing i’m trying to think about right now.” when his eyes settle on yours for just a beat too long, you’ve convinced yourself of two things: he was most definitely made of pure marble, carved by the gods themselves and whatever he was selling, you wanted to buy 10.

jimin whining from behind you pulls you from your reverie, his high pitched voice reaching your ears, and you perk up to listen. “the fuck is taking him so long?” he grumbles, checking his watch yet again and anxiously looking at the door. “it’s yoongi, he’ll be fine” hoseok mumbles, slightly amused by the younger boy’s worrying. “he shouldn’t have gone in there alone, that was his first mistake…” jimin murmurs to no one in particular. “he’ll be fine” you reassure louder, more yourself than jimin, and hoseok throws you a tight smile.

calmness falls over the three of you, a bliss that is soon interrupted by shouts, yells, and yoongi’s hoarse, deep voice croak out from somewhere in the large room, “fucKING RUN”

what happens next is blur of fists, grunts, muffled curses and the sounds of guns being yanked out of holsters. you manage to land several good punches before you even get a look at yoongi - who’s bleeding heavily from one cheek, sporting the beginnings of a world class black eye under the other. your throat constricts ever so slightly at the sight of him hurt, but your heart swells with pride when he lands a well-aimed kick square on the crotch of a man wearing a finely tailored suit. screams and shoves from the crowd block your view of yoongi, and you find yourself fighting at least two men at once, although at this point, it could be be three. you slam one man’s head into the bar, only to turn around and cleverly block another’s suckerpunch. suddenly, there’s a blur of black hair, and your most recent assailant drops to the floor.

“i had that, dickhead” you chirp to yoongi, who turns around with a grin and gently runs a thumb over your bruised and bloodied eyebrow.

“sure you did, babygirl.”

“i’m sorry, did you not see how i practically threw that dude over the bar? i think his eyes are nestled somewhere nicely at the back of his neck now.”

firm hands are placed on your back, and push you towards a door, with a half-broken and dim EXIT sign hanging from the top of it. “stop flirting and let’s get the fuck out of here, hmm?” is hissed in your ear, and you can’t help but turn around and grin at the very obviously annoyed jimin, who’d tried so hard to avoid blowing the cover this whole time, only to have it all go completely to hell. jimin maneuvers you quickly into the crowd of people yelling and filing out, and occasionally glancing behind him to make sure yoongi and hoseok weren’t far behind.

stepping out into the surprisingly bright night after the near pitch-blackness of the bar has you squinting, but it barely takes a heartbeat for you to recognize yoongi’s decked out black mercedes, looking inconspicuous in such a wealthy part of town. reaching behind you, you grasp jimin’s hand and give it a quick squeeze, a gentle reminder to walk calmly to the car, sinking as far into the shadows of the street as possible. jimin clears his throat twice behind you, indicating he understood, and his slowed gait reminds hoseok and yoongi of the same thing. the most powerful gang south korea had ever seen, who’d just come walking out of a world-class bar fight that will most definitely make the 6 am news? no clue what you’re talking about, absolutely nothing to see here.

you pull open the backseat door, freezing once you hear the tell-tale sirens of seoul’s finest, racing to the scene after a frenzied call from a terrified bar owner. you hurriedly clamber into the back seat, face breaking out into a smile when taehyung shoots you a megawatt grin through the rearview mirror.

“your uber’s heeeeere!” he chirps in a singsong voice. he watches as the rest of the boys shove their way into the car.

“could have gone better?” he smirks, and jeongguk giggles from the front seat, an ipad illuminating his face. “you could say that” you murmur, as you scootch over closer to namjoon, who’s stretching and rolling his shoulders.

hoseok huffs as he climbs into the backseat and makes a noise of surprise when he sees namjoon sitting there. “my god, he lives. i didn’t think you existed outside of that closet you call an office.”

“hoseok, i’m about to smack that dumbass orange hair off your damn head.”

“oh, i’d like to see you try, joonie darling.”

“move, asswipes” yoongi grumbles, shoving hoseok and jimin to the absolute back row, while taking his rightful spot next to you.

“as much as i’d hate to interrupt the playful banter, we’ve got a problem here, boss,” taehyung says from the driver’s seat, directing his comment to yoongi but keeping his eyes fixated on a set of officers, who are walking all-too-calmly towards the parked car. “seokjin is looking for an open route, but the police have almost the entire neighborhood blocked off.” jeongguk says breathlessly, fiddling with the bluetooth in his ear, hanging on every word seokjin yelps into the headset.

“they’ve already set up a perimeter, jesus christ” jimin breathes, and hoseok snorts from behind you and coolly runs a hand through his orange midpart, “what a great night for them to finally do some active policing.”

“taehyung,” yoongi’s cold, calm voice murmurs from next to you, and you know the tone well. it’s the tone yoongi reserves for only specific occasions, for moments when he feels like he no longer has control over the situation. for moments when everything could very easily fall apart. for moments when all other variations of himself are dead and gone, when he needs to make a concise, smart decision, when he’s in pure damage control mode. “i don’t care if you have to drive through a fucking mansion and olympic sized pool. get. us. the. hell. out. of. here.”

taehyung swallows, and his hands flex as they grip the wheel. he slowly puts the car in reverse, and makes more room in front. the police officers pick up their pace, and one of them even has the audacity to flag your car down.

“hard right once we get down the street, then just gun it until we reach that weird strip club namjoon goes to. perimeter should end there.” jeongguk orders from the front seat, reading seokjin’s words verbatim. namjoon whispers ‘it’s not weird god” and taehyung gives a stiff nod. yoongi’s hand creeps onto your lap, and clutches your knee through your dress, and you can’t help but be surprised.

hoseok had said something interesting at breakfast this morning. yoongi had stumbled out of bed, sleepy and unusually clinging with you (especially around the guys). as he’d gone to take a shower, hoseok had casually mentioned the importance of you and yoongi’s relationship. and now you saw he might be right: min yoongi really was going soft.

“go now” jeongguk orders hoarsely, and taehyung slams on the gas for all its worth. the car lurches forward, and taehyung expertly hands the wheel, straightening the luxury vehicle in a heartbeat, and it’s screaming down the open road in a second. “police barrier!” jeongguk yelps, and taehyung sets his jaw, driving right through the wooden stands and police tape. yells and hollers of men are heard outside, and policemen scatter to their cars to begin a pursuit.

“lose them now, tae” yoongi orders, gripping the back of the passenger seat while checking over his shoulder at the army of police cars approaching. red, white, and blue light up the interior of the car, and illuminate yoongi’s creased brow. one hand is planted firmly on your knee, the other hovering just above his right hip. his fingers smooth over the cold metal of the gun, and yoongi makes a split second decision. he unholsters the gun, and you can’t help but snort.

“wanna piss them off even more, babe?” you question, unholstering your gun from the garter under your dress. “if yoongi isn’t actively pissing someone off, he isn’t having a good day” jimin mumbles, blowing his bangs away from his eyes as he cocks his own firearm.

“shoot out their tires” yoongi orders, and you can’t help but stare at him dumbfounded. “doesn’t that shit only happen in the movies?” you squeak. 4 years you’ve been with the boys, and this was most definitely the craziest night yet.

“we’re about to find out” yoongi grunts.

he leans out the window, aims and fires, blowing out the front tires of the first car. the car screeches, desperately trying to slow down, and ends up side-sweeping across the lanes, stopping several cars in its wake. leaning out the window, you, jimin, and hoseok follow suit, blindly shooting at the wheels in the darkness of the night.

the loud pops of gunshots fill your ears, the microphoned voices of policemen ordering you to “pull over, now!” sends a shiver down your spine. adrenaline courses through your veins, making you deaf and numb to the gunshots fired back at the boys’ car. you duck back into the cabin of the car, and grab another magazine to load into your gun.

you glance to the side, catching yoongi’s eyes as he looks down at you. he leans down to your level, and catches your lips on his, in a fleeting kiss that doesn’t last as nearly long as you wanted it to.

“having fun, baby?” he smirks, nudging your nose with his.

“being shot at in a high speed police chase in the dead of night, after narrowly escaping a potentially brutal bar fight? i’d say i’m not having fun, i’m having the time of my life.” you grin at yoongi, and his eyes soften ever so slightly, his face relaxing into a smile.

“we’ve got some distance between us and them, what’s the next move, boss?” jimin huffs as he crouches back down into the backseat of the car. the back windshield gives one final crack, before falling apart completely as soon as taehyung hits a bump. the glass shatters, covering everyone in the two back rows of the car. “as much as i’m sure you’ve enjoyed taking my mercedes for a joy ride, taehyung, i think it’s time we really get the hell out of here.” yoongi hisses towards the front seat, but the anger is all smoke and mirrors: he knows one glorious, exuberant fact: tonight, min yoongi, famed leader of the most powerful gang in korea, won.

taehyung responds with a tight chuckle - “got it”, and presses on the gas pedal even further. “quick left on the side street, another hard right on that sketchy alley, and we should be home free,” jeongguk dictates, and yoongi hums his approval.

seokjin’s face appears on the console screen, and jeongguk leans over, long finger stabbing the green accept button.

“now what the FUCK was that?” he screeches, voice high and tinny through the car speakers.

“just a detour, hyung” yoongi hums softly, turning to you with his scrunched up eyes and full gummy smile on display. half beat to hell and juuust escaping arrest, and yoongi still looks drop-dead handsome. how he did it was beyond you.

“well, the next time you sweet precious angels decide to take the scenic route, throw up a warning, hmm? i’ve been sitting here routing and rerouting you guys. do you know how many police radios i’ve been cracking into, playing through my entire “vines that keep me from ending it all” playlist? it’s a miracle they haven’t caught up to you guys, you really need to be more careful.”

“i’ll file that away for later, thanks. can you get us home now? also namjoon, you’re gonna have to pull whatever magic-trick-harry-potter bullshit you used last time that managed to convince that mechanic guy to fix up the benz without going through the legalities.” yoongi says, the adrenaline in his body finally melting into bloodstream. heart no longer pounding, veins no longer burning, yoongi can finally focus on more than one thing at a time, on the multiple boys and things that desperately need his attention. seokjin grunts his agreement, and hangs up, leaving the car in a gentle silence, cushioned by the blowing of wind through the windowless back of the car. some shuffling, an occasional yawn is the only thing that breaks the stillness. then, muffled from somewhere in the front seat, “anyone up for tacos?”

even from the bathroom, your senses dulled by the ceiling fan and thick air, you can hear yoongi’s huffs and yawns. you shuffle into the bedroom, half getting dressed and half watching him. yoongi stands in front of the bed, sighing loudly as he yanks his jacket and tie off, rolls his sleeves to his elbows, and kicks off his shoes. yoongi collapses onto the fluffy white cloud of sheer divinity, phone in hand, lips pouted as he flicks through emails and messages and timelines. you gently climb onto the bed, wearing your most beloved pair of pj’s - one of yoongi’s old t-shirts, and a pair of your fluffiest sweatpants. you settle into yoongi’s side, and he adjusts to accommodate you. you rest your head on his chest as he tucks an arm under you, involuntarily humming when he can feel the warmth of your body begin to seep through his clothes.

he turns his head to the side, planting a long, warm kiss on your forehead. “you kicked ass tonight” he murmurs, and you hum back, eyes closing too fast for you to even think about it. it’s only when yoongi starts drawing shapes on your back - little hearts, stars, “i love you”’s - that you realize how truly tired you are, how warm and comfy he is, and how there’s nowhere else in this world you’d rather be. “so did you” you whisper back, and yoongi smiles, the crescent shape of his mouth pressed to your forehead.

“thanks for always being there. thanks for always having my back. thanks for going with me on every crazy idea i have. i wish that tonight hadn’t been so...”

“intense? insane? adrenaline-inducing?” you finish for him, and he grins. the air between you two falls silent for a second, and the velvety darkness threatens to drag you even further down.

“just always wanna make sure you’re safe”, he murmurs into your hair, hiding his blushing red cheeks in the strands. “sorry i’m so protective over the things i love, i can’t help it.”

you hum, tiredness and warmth dragging you down to inky black sleep. “could say the same thing to you, babyboy.”

right now, yoongi’s sure of three things: he can’t handle that nickname, he’s most definitely about to cry, and he’s really going to marry you one day.

“and to think, so long ago, you were just a cute little thing in that tight little dress, hiding away in a woman’s room just hoping i would walk in.” yoongi says, eyes scrunching and mouth forming into a massive smile as he reflects back on the night.

“shut up, your breath smells like taco sauce and liquor.”

he leans down to leave a loud, wet kiss right on your lips, one that you can’t help but return to him tenfold. you break away, breathless, and take one long gaze into those yummy honey brown eyes

“oh, min yoongi, hoseok was right.”

he snorts, “about what?”

“you have gone soft.”

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roastyoualive-archive · 6 years

Note

Meta meme: What was school like when he was younger? Was he bullied? An outcast? Was it hard to control his powers when he was younger as opposed to now?

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on || ALWAYS Accepting

Well, now, that depends on what you mean by ‘when he was younger’. He was in third grade when his dad got arrested. But, before that, Warren was really a different person. He was never hugely outgoing, was never really an extrovert, but he was definitely- lighter. Not as weighed down by the world.

Happier.

When Warren first went to school, he attended Bayshore Public. It was a small but nice primary school not too far from the Peaces’ house on Pinegrove. He’d made a few friends in Sunny Hills (the daycare/pre-school he went to) who also attended Bayshore, so that helped. Some of them were even in his class! And his teacher was really nice, too. Mrs. Amanda Jenkins, an older woman who had done a lot of travelling in her youth. When she taught geography, she brought in little trinkets and souvenirs from all over the world for the kids to see, and she had ‘community projects’ where she’d get the kids to help with local fundraisers to build a well for a small village overseas. When she got a letter about and photograph of the well from the organisation she was working with, she showed it to the class and used it to show them not only how connected everyone was, but also how little good things can add up to a really big, really important good thing.

By the end of that first year, Warren already had two best friends at Bayshore. Their names were Grant McGraw and Sam White. Grant and Warren had gone to Sunny Hills together, and had been friends for ‘ages’, as they’d put it (’maybe even forever!’). Sam hadn’t gone to Sunny Hills, but he HAD run up to Warren on the Bayshore playground, tapped his shoulder, and yelled ‘TAG - you’re it!’ before bounding away, and, well- They were little kids. That’s all it took. Grant, Warren, and Sam almost always shared a mat during Listening Time. They’d compete to see who could build the biggest block towers (Grant usually won) and debate over which truck was best (Warren usually voted for the red one, because it had the biggest and shiniest wheels. The other two agreed this was a very valid point) and how many LEGOs it would take to build a real rocket ship like the ones at NASA (Sam thought maybe twenty boxes, but only if it was Star Wars LEGOs). Sometimes, they’d go over to each others’ houses on the weekends. He always had to let Mama and Papa know early if he was going to have friends over.

See, just like his dad, Warren got his powers very young. (Penny didn’t, and she was oddly grateful she’d had to wait for adolescence.) Baron and Penny knew they could mitigate Warren’s powers when they were around, but also knew they weren’t always going to be right there. So, ever since he’d first shown his powers, they’d drilled into his head that they were a secret. ‘Don’t use your powers in public’ was drilled into his head along with ‘don’t get in the car with strangers’ and ‘don’t run off where we can’t see you’. They’d explained as well that if people knew what he could do, they might have to move to a new house and a new school, and Warren didn’t like that idea, so he kept it under wraps. Every day after school, or after going out with his friends, Baron or Penny (whoever was closest when they got home) would ask him if he kept their secret. Whenever he said yes, he’d get a sticker, a treat, to stay up a bit later, or even a family movie night (Disney movies, usually). To help with this, when they had a moment, Baron would take Warren into the fireproof garage and let him use his powers as much as he wanted - even give him some pointers. He knew how awful it was to keep fire bottled up, and didn’t want that for Warren, so insisted he get some sort of outlet for it. Penny thought it was a great idea, as long as it was safe and supervised. They’d play games, experiment, or just burn as much energy as they could, to help naturally curb Warren’s desire to power up outside of home. So, thankfully, none of Warren’s friends knew, not even Grant and Sam.

Of course, those two weren’t his only friends - just his best friends. There was also Lacy Chai - his future coworker, and the granddaughter of his future bosses (she helped him get the job). He stuck up for her once when she was being picked on, and that was that. They briefly got teased for ‘dating’, but that didn’t last long. Kids moved on. Mindy Fenter had the best coloured pencils, so everyone wanted to be her friend. She had a crush on Grant, and so let Sam and Warren use her colours too so he’d like her better. Ben Olsen was another Sunny Hills alumnus, and sometimes he and Warren traded snacks. Andy Walker was the funniest kid in class, so everyone liked him, and sometimes he’d play tag and keep-away and four-square with Sam and Warren and Grant. Jessie Sanderson was the best at monkey bars, and a few times she gave the three of them tips on how to do it better and the best ways to climb up to the very top - the part the grown-ups said they weren’t supposed to be on, but never really stopped them from sitting there once they got up. Grant’s older sister, Gina, would make them sandwiches when they were at Grant’s house and she was really nice, and Grant and Gina’s oldest brother Graham would set up games on his N64 and let the three of them play if they promised to be careful, so Warren considered them friends, too. But, not everyone was that nice. There was a bully in their year. His name was Ulysses Harper. He was the tallest in the class, but Warren was almost the same height as him (and ended up being taller, in later years), so for the most part, Ulysses left him alone. Besides, it’s easier to go after solo targets, and the Three Amigos were basically inseparable. (Interesting fact, Ulysses would go on to work as an [unpowered] petty thief for the Battalion, under the command of Saul Springfield, before staying a brief stint in juvie, re-inventing himself as a life coach and motivational speaker, and getting a teaching degree. He returned to Bayshore to teach fifth grade, and was known by all of the kids as one of the nicest teachers in school.)

I like to think that, in a world where Baron wasn’t arrested, it would have continued on like that. The three of them: Side, by side. … By side. They would’ve stayed best friends all throughout elementary school. They’d learn how to skateboard together, be on the same soccer teams over summer, and spend so much time at Livewire Arcade they’d be on a first-name basis with the owner (Vince Upton). They’d have snowball fights in winter and cram like sardines so they could all fit on one lift on the school ski trips (and almost get stuck at least once, almost fall off at least twice). They’d graduate together and be in at least five pictures in the end-of-year slideshow, cheesing it up like the doofuses young kids are supposed to be. They’d all go to Trinity Prep for middle school; Grant was technically outside of school limits, but he begged his parents enough to fill out the paperwork for it, and Gina (who was taking a few years off to help save up for college) agreed to drive him there in the morning, since it was on the way to her job, anyways. The three of them would have a sleepover at Sam’s to celebrate this (he had the biggest basement). Grant and Sam would convince Warren to audition for school plays, and Grant and Warren would convince Sam to go to football try-outs, and Sam and Warren would make sure to actually listen to announcements when Grant became the student council rep. (Another sleepover at Casa de Sam to celebrate this; his parents weren’t surprised anymore when Sam walked in with the other two trailing behind. None of their parents were.) Every Halloween, they’d go out together - coordinated costumes in later years - and pool their candy; Gifts were exchanged every Christmas, cards every Valentines’, and their parents had swapped so many recipes at Thanksgiving that nobody could remember who made what, most years. At one of Grant’s family Christmas parties, a Chipmunks special would come on, and the boys would manage to untie one of the helium balloons and laugh themselves to tears while their parents had wine and talked about whatever boring stuff grown-ups bothered with. Sam and Grant would be disappointed at Warren not going to the same high school as them, but offer a mixture of congratulations and ‘O most learned Lord Warren of Peacefordshire!’ jokes about him going to some fancy ‘private school’, and, of course, they’d agree to hang out over the summer and weekends. Sam and Grant would go to the Lantern to pester him (He’d still work there, just not as often), they’d get together in Warren’s back yard (the biggest of the three) or the park behind Bayshore to play rugby (Sam was best at it, so Grant enlisted Graham - studying to be a gym teacher - for help, and eventually they got enough local kids in to make an unofficial ‘team’), and for a week every summer they’d drive up to Grant’s folks’ cottage to just hang out. It’d be during one of these week-long getaways that Warren would reveal his powers to his friends. They were only upset that he’d waited so long to tell them, and thought it was SO COOL that their best friend was a SUPERHERO, and also, WOW, the fire thing really made your dog’s name make sense (’So THAT’S where ‘Matchstick’ came from! Can’t believe we never figured it out.’ ‘... Yeah, because ‘super powers’ is the obvious conclusion.’). It was also during one of these stays that Sam and Warren would share their first kiss. Grant was a little awkward about being a third wheel, but got over it before that trip was even over. He’d say to Warren, ‘Hey, Sam’s my brother. Don’t hurt him.’ And before Warren could respond turn and say to Sam, ‘Hey, Warren’s my brother. Don’t–’ ‘He’s a superhero, Grantwell, how the hell do I-’ ‘You know what I mean, Sammy!’ and then it’d dissolve into a wrestling match-turned-water fight when the super soakers get brought out. Sam and Warren would take a brief (amicable) break from dating during senior year, but would get together again after only a week or two when they figured they didn’t need to see who else was out there and experimenting wasn’t for them. They’d have a graduation party at Grant’s new place (now HE had the bigger downstairs, Sammy! / That’s dirty, Grantwell / Guys shut UP my mom is RIGHT THERE / Oh sh– Hi, Mrs. P!) and crash on the couch/floor/wherever they felt like. They’d do donuts in the now-vacant parking lot of Livewire when Baron and Penny buy Warren a car as his grad gift and do rock-paper-scissors to decide who got to pick the radio station, next. They’d see every High School Musical movie when it came out without knowing why they enjoyed them so much. Warren would go off to university, as would the others, but they’d stay in contact, and whenever he had time off, he’d be back at Maxville with them. They’d help each other study for tests and surprise the others by driving up to their respective dorms with food (’Pizza delivery!’ ‘This is the weirdest damn pizza I’ve ever seen.’ ‘Shut up, Warhead, I did my best.’ ‘It’s a salad.’ ‘… A pizza’s a kind of salad.’ ‘You’re such a moron. C’mon in.’ ‘Apologize to the pizza first.’). Sam and Grant would buy tickets to Warren’s graduation. (He returned the favour and attended both of theirs, too. They all have three graduation photos on their dressers, each with the three of them in a different school and an only slightly different pose.) When it became legal, Warren and Sam would get married. Nobody would be surprised. Penny would cry, Baron would make a speech that was, quite frankly, much less threatening than people would expect from a former supervillain, Grant would be best man and use all of the vocational skills he learned in middle school to make the best speech he could and pretend he wasn’t getting misty-eyed, just a little drunk. He’d fool nobody. Grant would marry a girl he met at college, Francisca ‘Fran’ Lowell-McGraw, and they’d have two daughters: Ginger (’Ginny’) and Clementine (’Clem’), both of whom would be absolutely spoiled by Uncles Warren and Sam. They’d be walking home from the gym one night when Grant suddenly remembers and lets them know that, hey, guess who’s Clem’s teacher this year? Ulysses! … The one we went to school with– Yes, I’m sure, how many guys named ‘Ulysses’ do you know? And then they’d get in contact with him. He’d apologize for being a jerk when they were kids, they’d tell him dude, that was like, thirty years ago, it’s cool, and they’d all go for drinks at Callahan’s, the bar that had opened in the same spot Livewire used to be. Dr. Warren Peace, practicing psychologist, would get a call to go deal with ‘some problems’ that Grant McGraw, local radio host, and Sam Peace, foreman of a construction crew, would have rehearsed excuses for (’Oh, man. Did the office server shut down AGAIN?’ ‘You really gotta get an IT guy on that, babe.’) before he ducked out to let the vigilante super Hellraiser make an appearance and keep Maxville safe. He’d live a pretty normal life for a super, and he’d be happy.

But, as we all know, that didn’t happen. Baron didn’t get to retire. Warren’s life was far from normal. And Warren wasn’t happy.

Baron was arrested just before Warren’s seventh birthday. Literally, the day before. It took a bit of time for it all to sink in. What do you mean, Dad’s not coming home? Dad always comes home! He’s probably just at work, or on another business trip, like the one he went on last year with Uncle Saul, or- Or maybe he’s getting a really BIG present and it’s just taking a while to get here! He’ll be back, Mama. Just you wait.

And wait Warren did.

Every day, by the door. He’d bring his snacks there, books, toys, anything to while the hours away. He just had to be there when Dad got home. Didn’t want to miss it. And that started cutting in to after-school hang-outs with his friends. Nah, he can’t go to Sam’s pool party, sorry, guys. It’s okay, though, ‘cause he’s not that good a swimmer, anyway. He doesn’t wanna go to Grant’s tree-house for ghost stories. He doesn’t wanna go play tag. He doesn’t even want to be in school, and it was getting hard to focus when he was there. He just wants his Dad back. So he waits. It was about two weeks before it started to sink in that Baron was Gone. Another week and a half before Warren fully realized it. He didn’t really understand why at the time. Sure, people tried to explain it to him, but it didn’t make sense. They kept telling him dad was a bad person, and that wasn’t true. They were lying. Dad had always been a good dad. A great dad, even. And he always came home. But not this time.

Losing a parent is hard. It’s even worse when you’re young. Warren was a mess of emotions as he struggled with his father’s arrest. Anger, confusion, fear, grief, maybe even some guilt. He didn’t know how to explain or communicate any of this, though. He was seven. And kids can be cruel. When Ulysses smelled blood in the water, he pounced. Boys aren’t supposed to cry, Warren. What are you, some kind of wimp? A sissy? A baby? Why don’t you go crying home to mommy and daddy, huh? … That was the first time Warren got into a fight. It was also the first time Ulysses Harper, age seven, had the fear of God put into him. Nobody had been around to see it. Ulysses had been class bully for two years, now, and had long since learned to make sure the grown-ups were away before picking his victims. So nobody could really explain how those burns got on his shoulders. Most people just assumed that Warren had to have shoved Ulysses into one of the heaters. Penny knew better, of course, and had plenty of time to talk to Warren about it, seeing as he got suspended for a few days. He protested this. It wasn’t his fault! He hadn’t started it, and he hadn’t meant to-! Penny did the best she could to hear him out, but have a serious talk about proper use of powers. Warren was only half-listening. There was too little notice to book a sitter for the days he was out of school, so he spent most of the time sulking behind his mom’s desk while she was at work. Not much to do there except read (which he normally liked, but wasn’t in the mood for), colour (which he couldn’t focus on), or think. He had a lot to think about. He thought about how unfair the punishment was. He thought about how much he was starting to hate school. He thought about how much he missed his dad. … He thought a lot about his dad. Everyone seemed convinced he was a bad person. Warren didn’t think he was bad. In fact, he’d been Warren’s hero. Warren had wanted to be just like him when he grew up. … Did that make him a bad person, too? Penny tried to assure him that it didn’t, but everybody else seemed to think so. He could tell.

It was obvious, after all, especially at school, when he finally went back. Teachers were a bit more tight-lipped around him. Kids gave him a wider berth. Grant and Sam were unsure of how to handle it. They noticed the change in their friend, of course. They were children, and kids are often much smarter than we tend to give them credit for. But they were only in second grade. They didn’t know words like ‘trauma’ and ‘depression’. Nobody had thought they’d need to. They were only in second grade. They didn’t know why Warren was so upset. They tried to talk to him a few times. Even tried to invite him to play with them. But he didn’t do much talking in return, and even snapped at them, once. (Felt awful for it immediately after, but the damage was done). Parents were less inclined to invite him to their houses after news of the Ulysses incident spread. Though he never got up in Warren’s face again, Ulysses was in fact guilty of contributing to the whispers that circulated the lunch hall. It was these whispers - and the stares - that made Warren not want to eat with the other kids. He’d usually spend lunch hiding in the library or the washrooms. He never let anyone see him cry again. When people started getting louder in their jeers, he’d turn on them until they learned to keep their words hidden away behind his back. He still heard them. Everyone knew what they said about Warren Peace. That kid was trouble. Dangerous. Good-for-nothing. He’d end up in juvie someday, if he was lucky. What a shame. His poor mother.

The thing about hearing that sort of thing often enough is, eventually, you start to believe it, yourself. So, Warren did. Penny tried to convince him otherwise. She told him she loved him, and not to listen to them, that she was proud of who he was and how strong he was being and that no matter what anybody said, he was a good person. That didn’t stop him from blaming himself when they lost the house. He’d given away their secret, after all.

Moving around so much didn’t help things, any. The shelters and apartments he and Penny ended up into were usually in less-than-nice areas of town and brought with them a lot of noise and chaos. School became the only ‘peace’ he got. So, even if people tried so socialize with him (they didn’t), he wouldn’t want any part of it. He wanted to have some time to breathe, and read, and sleep during breaks. Even if people wanted to invite him over or hang out after school (they didn’t), he wouldn’t be able to have them at his place, and he didn’t really have the transportation to get around, any more. When he got involved with the school lunch programs, new whispers got thrown in. He was the Poor Kid, now. People started turning their noses up at him. One kid - Jack Osgood, who’d transferred to Bayshore in fifth grade - thought it would be hilarious to knock his lunch tray out of his hands. Warren, who had never said a word to Jack, had hardly even looked at him, but who had been looking forwards to that ham sandwich and Minute Maid (meat and juice are expensive), punched him in the jaw so hard Jack fell into Becky Lowell, and then the lunch room was chaos. Warren got another detention. He didn’t get another lunch. The teachers didn’t care who started it or why. They never did. Warren had learned pretty early that he had to deal with this stuff, himself. Trying to get help from the faculty only ever made things worse. So, he explained what happened to his mom, when she finally showed up, and only really felt bad for disappointing her. Well, and for making Becky spill her fruit punch. No, he hadn’t wanted to get into a fight with Jack. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to be left alone. ... And his sandwich. Of course, teachers didn’t see it, that way. Neither did the other kids. Safe to say, Warren had just ruined his chances of making any friends at Bayshore. At least people did leave him alone, after that. Jack had a bruise for more than a week that reminded people why that was a good idea. Warren didn’t care. They’d be graduating soon, anyways. (Nobody signed his year book. Not even Mr. Richards, the homeroom teacher. Warren threw it in the recycling on the way home.)

When he was twelve, Lacy got him a job at the Paper Lantern. Warren’s still not sure what possessed her to reach out to him. They weren’t exactly friends. She was a bubbly socialite, on the mathlete and cheer squads. He was the guy nobody wanted to be anywhere near, and he couldn’t afford extra-curriculars. In reality, Lacy felt bad for him. She didn’t think he was as bad as people said. She still remembered when he stuck his neck out for her way back in first grade. Sure, she didn’t get what he was going through, but she wanted to help, so she offered him a job. Warren was twelve, and had spent the last five years learning how to best live off food stamps and minimal cash. He’d seen how stressed mom was. ... He felt like a lot of that was his fault. So, of course he took her up on the offer. She made a case to her grandparents, and he was hired as a dishwasher. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and about all he could do at that age. He’d also realized that he’d probably never get into college without a scholarship. They’d never be able to afford it. Not in a million years. And he’d decided long ago what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to be a psychologist, and he wanted to help people. You need a degree for that. So, when Warren wasn’t at school, he was working (Up to forty hours a week, by the time he’s a teenager). When he wasn’t working, he’d be studying. Sometimes, he’d even bring his books to the ‘Lantern, and be reading while he was up to his elbows in soap suds and dirty flatware. The people at the local library knew him well, but, that was about it as far as new relationships. A schedule like that doesn’t leave a lot of time for socializing.

Warren graduated Bayshore without much fanfare. He moved on to Trinity Prep middle school. ‘Go, Titans’. By this point, Warren was growing his hair out. He was wearing his typical darker colour scheme. Black was easier to keep clean, and didn’t catch soot and smoke stains as easily. Black was also always in ready supply at the second-hand stores. And, as a bonus, it reinforced an image that kept people at bay. Sam went to Trinity, too, but he and Warren hadn’t really spoken in years. (Grant ended up going to Our Lady of Providence, a Catholic middle school. His family wasn’t religious, but, hey, it was closer and had a better computer sciences program, which is what his parents wanted him to go into, so.) In a way, Warren was glad for the new school. Not as many people knew him, here. Not as many people cared. Warren appreciated the isolation. The breathing room. Work was busy. He and his mom still hadn’t found an apartment that stuck (but they were getting close). He didn’t mean to keep setting off the fire alarms. He got better with his powers as the years went by. It was a struggle, though. Yes, Penny was an elemental, too, but she did water and wind (mainly water), not fire. He had to figure a lot of things out for himself. They’d always thought Baron would be the one to teach his son how to control his pyrokinesis, but, of course, he wasn’t around to do that, any more. And the older Warren got, the more he was starting to learn why that was. It was really-- Polarizing for him, if that’s the word I’m looking for. Now, I could write a doctoral thesis on Warren’s feelings about his dad, and how weird it is for him and how it probably would have been better, almost, if Baron had been a horrible father and made Warren hate him from the get-go, but this is about Warren’s school life and (lack of) friends, so I’ll just say it became even more of a touchy subject than before.

One of the many things Trinity had that Bayshore didn’t was Career Day.

Warren had been dreading it since it had first been announced. He knew Mom wouldn’t be able to take time off to come in. And, Dad? Warren hadn’t seen him in almost six years. It’d be a damn miracle if he turned up for it. Probably a federal crime, too. So he didn’t bother telling Mom about it. He didn’t want her feeling guilty about it - she had enough to worry about. He managed to slip away when everyone else was filing into class after the first break, and snuck off campus. For the next hour, he wandered idly around the neighbourhood. Nobody tried to stop him. He was always tall for his age and old for his youth, and that - combined with his perpetual scowl - made people pay him no mind. A typical delinquent. Of course he wasn’t in school. Best keep your distance. He returned to school about an hour later, and when the teacher (Josephine LaRose) asked where he was, he shrugged and told her he’d just not been feeling well. As always, the other kids started to talk. Some of them said he’d ditched to smoke, others to sell drugs. And his parents hadn’t shown up! Oh, the rumours that flew, then. In any other setting than a public school, they could’ve been called slander. Nobody ever said anything to his face, though. Gossip had spread from some of the Bayshore alumni, and as gossip tended to do, it had been embellished and enhanced until the other kids were terrified of Warren. They didn’t want to end up drinking their burgers through a straw like Jack Osgood, after all. (Jack, for the record, had never needed to liquefy his food. He was totally fine over at Westwood Middle School, and barely remembered ever meeting Warren Peace.) So Warren only heard whispers in passing. Usually, a glare and a ‘what was that?’ was enough to shut them up. He didn’t really care if they were talking about him. Let them talk. He was used to it. But nobody knew his father like he did (and, given that these kids weren’t in the super community, they didn’t know him at all) and heaven help anyone he caught speaking ill of his mother. She had enough to deal with without some snot-nosed punk speculating about how she earned a living. He didn’t regret scaring those kids, nor did he care about the lectures he got as a result. Leave him alone, leave her alone, and he’d leave them alone. He thought it was fair. Honestly, if it wasn’t for his 4.0 average (which all of the teachers were sure had to be a mistake) making the school’s test scores look good, they probably would have expelled him. It wasn’t even that he got into that many fights - he didn’t, not really. You could count the number of actual physical altercations he got into on one hand and have fingers left over. He was never disruptive in class. Never talked back to the teachers (or really talked at all, if he didn’t have to). Always turned in his homework completed and on time. But- He was a bad kid. Just look at him. He’s Trouble, capital T, and the sooner he got out of that school, the better for everyone else.

And he did get out.

He graduated Trinity Prep and skipped the convocation. Went to work, instead. Rent Day was coming up. After a lot of moving around, eventually, a letter would arrive telling him he got into an exclusive high school, but- We’ve all seen how that worked out for him, so, for now, I’ll end this here.

#personifiedchaosx #;school gossip (ａｓｋｓ)#;extinguished (ｏｕｔ　ｏｆ　ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ)#;student record (ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ)#thank you!!!! ;w;#bullying tw //#violence tw //#ask to tag

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noexit-ff · 6 years

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55. Part 2

Staring at my mom “this is what I deal with, a man child that holds onto things” what was even the point, repeating words I said earlier. Why hold onto things, god I am so annoyed. Grabbing Junior’ cloth, wiping his mouth “you’re loving your hands ain’t you” my mom didn’t say anything but look at me “you think you’re ready to go to sleep now, I am surely ready to sleep boy. You have me awake early hours” shifting on the couch and holding Junior up, placing him on my lap, he was resting against me “god, I need the toilet. My flow has been so heavy, I don’t know why either” this is going to be difficult, shuffling off the couch and feeling my period hit me “so nobody cooked?” I swear I want to kick Chris out of the house, he is testing me “not for you” I spat, my mom took Junior from me “Chris, I will make you something. We ordered some Chinese and ate that, I can make something for you” my mom said, I groaned out getting up finally “so nobody thought of me, I want Robyn to cook for me not my mother in law” he is being so rude for no reason “fuck off Chris” walking by him, Junior started to cry realizing I am leaving him to my mom “fuck off Chris? How is my wife acting like a bitch, yeah I said it” I am going to ignore him “this is petty, please Chris go away. You know how to cook” luckily there is a toilet downstairs, dragging open the door “you sound like a bitch because your voice broke calling me a bitch now move” turning around to him “because I respect you” kissing my teeth “I will throw my tampon on your head, fucking leave!” I won’t be shy to do that shit to him.

I have a feeling that Chris is not holding Junior, I know he’s not because I can hear my son crying still and I don’t hear Chris trying. Drying my hands off, I am going to remain calm because he is upset about something clearly, what I said upset him. My mood is everywhere you damn right, unlocking the door and walking out “mom!” I spat, walking down the hallway “mommy, it’s ok. Don’t, he’s not going to settle and I don’t like him crying like this” I knew my mom would have him, Chris went to go and think about his stomach “I know baby, mommy is here. You ready for milk and some teething gel, you seem like it” Junior rested his head on my shoulder “awww I know baby, I won’t leave you. I am always here” I chuckled, my mom rolled her eyes “that boy is attached to your hip Robz but I am happy he is calm” my mom touched the top of his head “yeah, goodnight though everyone” it’s time for mother and son to sleep.

I didn’t actually want a TV bed but it’s a blessing now with Junior, breastfeed and watch TV. I would be so bored if I didn’t have this TV, and I can also just lay in bed. Switching the channel, seeing This Christmas on which made my eyes roll hard. Chris is singing, feeling Junior move back. He hears music and he does this, wonder if he recognizes his dad’ squeaky ass voice “are you done now baby?” lifting him up, pulling my top down. This has really caught his eyes, wiping his mouth with the cloth. Tilting my head a little to see his face, Junior is smiling so much “what is it baby? What is it you seen?” bringing my head closer to his face, kissing his cheek. Junior started making some noise, he could be speaking words but it sounds like a mix of things because he is smiling. I laughed at Junior getting into Try a Little Tenderness “you like this song” he started moving his butt from side to side “if only your dad could see you like this” Chris was so big headed here, he looked innocent but he was far from it. He had me in bed with his innocent looking self. It’s weird because he didn’t think I liked him but I really did, I looked disgusting. I looked terrible and I had no boobs so I was like no way he would want me. But what can I say, we are here now but I fell for him and we was fifteen, so young. I grinned at the TV, I one day want to tell my daughter on how I met her father, I really want a girl. I blew out air looking down at my baby boy.

Robyn ain’t shit for not making me food, I made myself pizza and that was that frozen shit. I wanted fresh pizza but my wife is being an ass, so annoying. I thought she was going to beat my ass when I called her a bitch, I didn’t mean it but I was annoyed. Looking down at my watch, it’s late so I know they must be asleep. It’s like three in the morning, I hope she wants me in the bed. The door is not locked so that is a plus, she ain’t being petty. Slowly closing the door behind me, it does look like Maurice is asleep in the bed though. I will need to prepare myself for a screaming baby in the morning, pulling my tee over my head. Robyn must have fallen asleep, the TV is still on and she has the remote in her hand, half of her titty is out too. Maurice is asleep just next to her, taking the remote from Robyn’ hand. Switching the TV off and pressing the button for it to go down, picking up the cloth from her stomach. She really fell asleep upright, pulling her tee down. Maurice is a little away from her so I can just carefully place her down, pulling the blankets back because it will be safer to pick her up and place Robyn laying on her back.

I have actually worked up a sweat, from moving Robyn down and then moving Maurice a little but to the side, then finding a pillow to put next to Robyn. She is in a deep sleep so I don’t want her roll over him so the pillow creates space “damn” I said to myself, now it’s my turn to sleep. Pulling my jeans down, I am not a heavy sleeper unlike Robyn right now. She is so damn tired, I feel bad now. Placing my jeans on the chair, walking around the bed. I feel bad about the whole thing, I want to be a better person. She does everything for me, she runs around for me and I was just being a dick. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she is the one sitting with me, building me, helping me, loving and then she repeats that and does it with Maurice. I will apologise tomorrow, slowly getting into bed. Looking over at Maurice I near jumped out of bed “woah, nigga” is he awake, staring at him. Maurice stared at me back “oh god no” he is awake, I guess I will get out of bed “don’t cry now, it’s ok” I said getting out of bed, I don’t want that little nigga to cry.

Maurice stared at me all wide eyed “hey baby, it’s ok. I am just going to get dressed or do you want me out of the bed? I am not sure” if he cries and then Robyn wakes up, she will blame me so I need to be careful. Why am I even letting some little baby kick me out of bed, I am so stupid. Seeing his lower lip quivering “hey baby, come on. Don’t cry” leaning over the bed, picking Maurice up “hey son, it’s me dad. I know I ain’t got no boobs and shit but I love you, shall we go and see what we can find outside of the bedroom” Maurice seems to be very calm right now, maybe I can be ok with him and he won’t cry. If he cries then I need to deal with it, Robyn will cuss me out for waking her and I don’t want that either. Closing the bedroom door behind me, Maurice is just staring at me like I am some weird guy.

Wow, Maurice’ crying can really drive you crazy “you really ain’t about to stop” strapping Maurice in the car seat “daddy is going to take you around the block” placing his pacifier in his mouth and the closed the car door. I left a note for Robyn that I took him out, it’s five in the morning and he won’t stop crying, I tried milk and he was like no. I tried to do what Robyn did with the teething gel and I still couldn’t do it so I am doing this, hopefully it will calm him down just driving around. Climbing into the range and closing the car door, Maurice spat his pacifier out and is just whining “you really in pain ain’t you? Your mommy is right, you just want love don’t you?” my poor boy, starting the car engine. The car stereo came on and Maurice’ eyes widened “oh wow baby, what is that? Is that daddy singing? Let’s go, I’ll sing to you as we drive around the block” starting to drive off slowly “I am out in my sweatpants and you out here in your batman night clothes, we look dope son” he is quiet, I love it.

Maurice is not asleep but he is quiet, I have been driving for ten minutes now “you like it son?” I started moving my shoulders “awwww shiiiit, this is my song. I mean this is really my song but it’s a song that I made for your momma, I am a nigga. I fucked up, I still don’t think she cared though” looking back on the road laughing to myself “oh shit, ok listen to this Maurice” looking over at him “Lock it all up, and throw away the key. I would never give it up, cause I was just a fool, a fool for you. When I loved you so childishly” I sang out, Maurice’ smile grew and he let out the biggest giggle I have heard “awww my boy, you giving me a hard time back at home. All this crying got to stop, we thugs boy. Thugs don’t cry unless it’s someone as beautiful as your mom, your mom is just beyond amazing. If you ever get a woman like your momma, never fuck it up or you will be making sad songs, well was making sad songs” I be talking too damn much, glancing over at Maurice, he is staring at me in awe “stop it, you making me soft. Your momma’ eyes be getting to me” stopping at the red light “you know son, I haven’t been good. Like personally, not been there for you or Robyn. I seem to fuck up a lot but I want to do better, I took it to heart when she said I was not a good dad” shaking my head looking away from Maurice, the light turned green.

Maurice is actually asleep so I came home, the sun is rising but the shit was worth it. Checking my phone and Robyn didn’t call me so she will be asleep still, unlocking my phone. Let me take a quick picture, aiming the phone up so it had Maurice asleep in the car seat in the frame. Looking down at the picture smiling wide, he looks so content. Captioning the photo ‘I think all my talking put him to sleep, finally. My young king couldn’t sleep’ pressing send on the picture, maybe I should take Maurice upstairs in the car seat so that way he won’t wake up. He would be ok to be in that, I am sure of it. Walking around the car, I won’t even lie but I am tired as shit and need my bed. Dragging open the car door, god has really blessed me with a beautiful son even though he is not well but I am blessed.

Placing the car seat on the bedroom floor “tired” I sighed out saying, placing the car key on the table “I’ll take him out” I jumped at the sound of Robyn’ voice, turning around and watching Robyn walk back to the bed “I just woke up and saw your note, I was thinking why things were quiet” letting out an oh “yeah, I took my phone with me just in case. It worked” I am glad it paid off “he looks very settled, I will put him in his crib” Robyn walked over to me “yeah, Robyn. I am sorry about earlier, you’re not really a bitch. I didn’t mean it” Robyn picked up the car seat “it’s fine, I just needed some sleep. Let me take him to the crib. I’ll be back” nodding my head, I don’t want to fall out with the woman that supports me through it all. I guess I wasn’t thinking but I love my wife, things happen and I was being childish in the first place by not waking up.

Pulling the bed covers over me, I breathed out a sigh of relief. No baby judging me on why I am sleeping here, baby free too and I am just blessed to be in bed “you look very happy, look at that smile on your face” Robyn caught me “uh yeah, when I got in bed Maurice was judging me, that was when he woke up” propping the pillows up a little “he is overprotective of his mother you see” Robyn said as she go into bed, laying on her side to look at me “I am too you know” Robyn shrugged “not as much as Junior” looking away from Robyn “I walked into the bedroom and you was asleep with the remote in hand, boob showing. Baby cloth on stomach and TV on, I just felt bad. You was so tired that you just slept like that, I am sorry. I am just me, I don’t think. You’re the only woman to support me and what do I do I just fuck it up, I still feel bad. I tucked you in bed seeing you like that, then he woke up so I took him down, he wouldn’t settle so I thought the car thing would work and it did. I just drove around singing, I can only imagine how much it takes out of you” looking to the side of me, Robyn smiled at me lightly “I just felt like you wasn’t trying, it’s been a while since I have felt this tired. I felt well I feel now, like I did when I gave birth. I am tired, you did a lot for me and don’t take it the wrong way please. You have had a lot on, you still do. I told you no working, I want you to work on yourself but I took all of the work around the house, Junior. I have forgot about me and yes I am on my period and I am feeling very fragile. At that moment I just need you to help me” licking my top lip “I have realised that and I will, you just rest. I will take care of Maurice, please forgive me because I ain’t mean that shit” Robyn smiled at me “you should never call a bitch on her period a bitch, you asking for a ball crushing. You’re lucky I love you” Robyn leaned over to me, pressing a kiss to my lips.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfiction

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eldritchsurveys · 6 years

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12o.

Do you wish you could paint your bedroom walls? >> Not particularly. I mean, it’d be cool, but I can live without it until we move into a more permanent place.

What’s your favorite musical? >> Repo! the Genetic Opera, full stop. Phantom of the Opera after that, and Jesus Christ Superstar third.

How do you get to sleep? >> I don’t really do anything special, I just read or play phone games or hang out in Xibalba until I’m sleepy.

What happened at the last party you went to? >> I’m not sure what the last party I went to was that wasn’t just some family event that I went to with Sparrow.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? >> Yep.

What’s your hair like at this present moment? >> Freshly shorn and washed (well, yesterday, but that’s still pretty fresh to me).

Are you more comfortable sitting or lying down? >> It depends on what I’ve been doing more of at the time. I like to sit up but sometimes reclining is a relief if I’ve been sitting too much.

What’s the worst film you’ve ever seen? >> I don’t know, but one movie I absolutely didn’t enjoy was Napoleon Dynamite.

Are you an untidy person? >> No, but I live with a person that isn’t entirely tidy and I have resigned myself to it (because the other option is madness).

Have you ever been a fan of N*Sync? >> Not really a fan -- I liked BSB more back in those days -- but I do still think some of their songs are absolute bangers.

Do you watch a lot of television? >> Not a lot, mostly because I don’t binge-watch like I used to anymore.

Do you think you’re fat sometimes? >> Nope.

Do you like to flex your muscles? >> Sometimes. What little I still have, haha.

Have you ever completely misunderstood what somebody was saying? >> Yep. One time Sparrow was saying that a place was too bougie and I swear my brain heard “boobily” and I was like “it’s too boobily???” and she was like “babe WHAT. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN” and I couldn’t stop laughing.

Favorite kind of cake: >> Red velvet.

Was it a boy or a girl to text you last? >> It was a woman.

Name something you are doing tomorrow? >> I’m not doing anything special tomorrow, so I don’t know... playing FFXIV? Like, probably.

Where are you going to be at 4 PM tomorrow? >> Home, barring any surprises.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? >> Yeah.

Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up? >> No.

Do you think you would be a good parent? >> I don’t know. I think I would do my absolute best, which is all you can ask from anyone, I guess.

Who was driving the last time you were in a car? >> Sparrow.

Are you tanned? >> No, I’m full-on darkskinned.

Did you get any compliments today? >> No. I also have only been awake and online for like an hour.

Do you get jealous easily? >> No.

What were you doing at 3 AM this morning? >> Sleeping.

Are you any good at math? >> I think I was fairly okay at it. I just never developed an interest.

Any plans for Friday night? >> Hopefully we’ll do the Cafe Boba meetup again, with West Michigan Geeks. Last time was pretty fun.

Do you have a little crush on someone? >> Yeah. I don’t know what it’s about, but it exists, so I guess I’ll just deal with it until it finally passes.

How old is the last person you kissed? >> Ageless.

Why did you kiss the person you last kissed? >> No special reason, I just like kissing him.

What is your middle name? >> Frey. I don’t know if I’ll have a middle name when I change it for the [hopefully] last time. I’d like one, but I can’t figure out what flows well. IDK, maybe I’ll just keep Frey. It’s like “Ann”, sounds good in between almost anything.

What are you passionate about? >> Storytelling and mythology.

Do you have any fears? >> You know, my thanatophobia problem has been a little quieter lately. I still have “oh shit” moments, but not like before. And the major change has been... not sleeping in the second bedroom anymore. I maintain that there is something about that room -- either because of the last occupant or because of something I can’t suss out -- that is just toxic for me. So I’ll just keep my stuff in there but not myself, and deal with Sparrow trying to kickbox in her sleep -- it’s better than the alternative.

Where are you from? >> Good question.

What’s your sign? >> Gemini Sun.

What is your favorite color? >> Gold.

Are you a procrastinator or do you get things done early? >> I’m a procrastinator with executive function issues, so I actually sometimes don’t know whether I’m just garden-variety procrastinating or whether I need to be approaching a task from a “let’s fix/cheat my executive dysfunction” angle. When my executive function is in tip-top shape, I can get a task done in no time.

TV Shows and anime you watch regularly: >> Grey’s Anatomy, mainly, because I still have so many episodes left.

Halloween costume idea for this year? >> I don’t have any ideas, because I have never properly dressed up for Halloween and I still don’t know if I’ll ever get to.

Is there anything purple nearby? >> There’s one of those bag clips on my desk and it’s shaped like a purple monster face.

Do you usually leave voicemails on other people’s machines? >> No. I also don’t call people, so.

Do you know somebody whose christmas lights stay up all year round? >> I don’t think so. Aside from people (like me) who use Christmas lights as regular lighting.

Do you always shut your computer down when you’re finished with it? >> No, I usually set it to hibernate or sleep.

Are most of the pens around your house from random companies or plain? >> They’re just random pens, idk.

Sixteen Candles or Pretty In Pink? >> Haven’t seen either.

Do you want to have a big family in the future? >> Er.

Do you get embarrassed when talking about things like sex and periods? >> No.

Do you often write people’s moods off as ‘PMSing?’ >> I don’t recall ever doing that.

Do you think that men endure too much? >> I think that humans endure a lot, period. Men included. It’s unfortunate that it’s in fashion to diminish the struggles of men now in the name of “feminism” or whatever, because not only is that petty and unfair, it’s actually a roadblock to equality. But, you know, who cares, right?

Are there any towels in your house with cartoon characters on them? >> No.

Do the half sheet paper towels annoy you? >> No.

Ever been in a mosh pit? >> No, I watch them but I refuse to participate.

What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? >> I’m not sure.

Is Vegas one of your must-see places? >> I’m into the idea of going, but it’s not a priority.

Pet rat ; Yay or Nay? >> They’re adorable and I love to play with other people’s, but I’m not sure about keeping one myself. Mostly because I’m a poor caretaker.

If given the chance, would you ride a unicorn to Iceland? >> Uh, yeah, sure, why would I pass that kind of opportunity up?!

Have you ever washed a cat in your bathtub? >> No.

Ever seen the movie Max Keeble’s Big Move? Opinions? >> No.

Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? >> I suppose. I wrote a short thing with my Fallout 4 Sole Survivor and Preston Garvey a week or so ago.

Are you good at reading people’s body language? >> I don’t know.

Ever ask a random stranger to pretend to be someone for you? >> No.

Are needles something that you’re afraid of? >> No.

Have you ever been prescribed medication? >> Yes.

Did you ever have those glow in the dark stars on your ceiling? >> No, but Sparrow used to, and I actually have a set of them that I got in a Reddit Secret Santa exchange but I never actually got around to sticking them anywhere.

Do you have a Friday night routine? >> No. We might now, though. We’ll see.

Do you kind of have to pee right now? >> No.

#survey #surveys #random survey

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imagine-that-one-thing · 6 years

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The bigger picture.

Harry’s hand rests on my thigh as he keeps his eyes focused on the road, my own concentrated on the passing byways that have snow shoved to the edges, piled up in clumps. There isn’t much of a scenery to gaze at on the long-drawn drive out to Cheshire. Pulling into the driveway has been the best thing I have seen, mainly because I am eager to get out and get the festive season over and done with. “Elise, wait a second, don’t get out,” Harry instructs as I lift my head off the window when he parks the car in the driveway at his childhood home. I had kind of overpowered Harry to make this drive up here to see his family. Usually, we drive up earlier than Christmas Eve, but his business has had him tied down to his desk without much time to escape. To be honest, we bickered quite a lot last night on whether making the drive was necessary. Of course, he gave in and I won, mainly because he was done arguing me over it— he knew I wasn’t prepared to give in. Harry hurries around the front of the hood and comes to my side, opening the door like a gentlemen for me. “Careful, Elise.” He warns as he helps me out and places an arm around me while closing the door. “Bloody ice everywhere, told Gemma the driveway would ice if she didn’t put out more salt.” Harry mutters under his breath while guiding the two of us to the front door of his childhood home. “You came! I thought you’d back out,” Harry’s sister immediately greets the two of us as she opens the door and ushers us in, “little brother, it’s been a while. Look at you, you’re not in a suit and tie, I am very surprised.” His sister chuckles as she drags him in for a hug. In her defence, it has been a while since he has seen her. “Mhm, decided to leave it at home, I see you’ve changed your hair again, it looks good.” He compliments her, “think I might change mine, what ye’ think?” He playfully teases her, earning him a small slap to the chest, “Oi, careful, I’m fragile.” “Oh, shut up... come in, come in.” She drags the two of us down the hallway, beginning to tell us about everything we’ve missed since the last time we were all together. I am pulled away with his sister, forced into faking a smile while tasting the different foods and discussing the most recent events. *** “Hey, there you are, was gettin’ worried that you and my sister were looking through baby photos again,” Harry smiles as he wanders into the kitchen to discover me leaning against the counter while everyone else went to check out the renovated living space upstairs. I shake my head as he comes closer and drapes an arm around me, luring me closer to him, “you alright? You’re quiet,” he softly asks and I lift my shoulders into a shrug. “Not feelin’ too well, are you?” He challenges, his hand benevolently caressing my back and rubbing soothing circles, “oh, darling, I’m sorry.” He whispers softly, soothing me with the motions of his hand. “It’s okay,” I sigh, tenderly drawing away from him and pressing my hands to the small of my back, inhaling and exhaling as the back aches begin to start again.

The whole early pregnancy thing wasn’t what I had expected when I started reading about what to expect. I knew about the nausea, mood swings, and the soreness, but what I was failed to be told about was the back pain, oh lord the back ache. It’s a bit harder when he doesn’t know, I haven’t found the right time to tell him, I didn’t really want it to be a Christmas announcement, it’s always overly done at this time of year. “Told ye’ we should have stayed back in London.” ... “but, you insisted on this drive.” “Harry, don’t start,” I suggest sternly as he begins to snoop around his mothers kitchen, attempting to discover small pieces of food to steal before it’s placed on the table. Harry shrugs, “Well, darling, kinda had things to do.” He references the stack of files on his desk that need his attention. “Do you always have to be such a bloody Scrooge? Pretend to enjoy Christmas. Damnit. Harry” I mutter lamentably, crossing my arms over my chest as he glances over at me. “Elise, not all of us love this season. It’s a bloody marketing scam where families are forced together.” “Well, I’m sorry you feel forced. Just trying to get you to see the bigger picture.” I throw my hands around out of frustration, “Bigger picture?” “You know what. Don’t worry about it.” I mutter through my teeth as I push away from the counter and walk past Harry, determined to get away from him and his lack of understanding. I feel his hand tenderly wrap around my wrist and mildly pull me back before I turn on my heel to stare at him with fierce eyes, “where are you going?” He asks while I remove my wrist from the touch of his grip. “Elise, what’s with the attitude?” “Leave me alone, Harry.” “Not a chance, you’re stuck with me.” He follows me as I step outside into the fresh coldness of the air, inhaling a deep breath before carefully stepping down to the pavement and walking to the car. “Elise, what in God’s name are you doing?” Harry hisses as I pull out the keys and unlock his car. “Fuckin’ hell,” he huffs right before I slide into the drivers seat and close the door. Before I can lock the door to earn myself some time alone, his hand touches the edge of the handle and pulls it open. “Listen, you’re going to tell me what the issue is.” He comments with a stern CEO voice that he uses within his office. “Leave me alone, Harry. It’s not that hard to leave me alone.” He shakes his head as he leans his arm on the door. “No, you’re fucking moody and have been all morning. You refused to leave me alone about this Christmas thing. You insisted on us coming here and you’ve been bitchy.” ... “told ye’ I wanted to stay in London and not make this drive because I had shit to do but I did it to keep you happy and here you are being a damn pissy woman.” He informs me of his frustrations, continuing to refuse to see the bigger picture of how he neglects family gatherings. I lean back On the leather seat and roll my eyes as I take a breath. Bloody, moron he is. “Are you going to talk to me or suddenly do you want to bless me with silence?” “You’re an ass...” I grumble. “That’s all you have to say?” ... “you’re so fucking moody, damn, are you pregnant?” “Why, Yes, Yes I am.” I glance up at him, “you jackass, had to ruin the damn plan.” I moan as I cross my arms over my chest in a petty way. His eyes grow wide for a moment and his jaw drops for a split second. He gulps, What did you just say?” His voice is dry and rigged as he stares at me like he has seen a ghost. “You ruined the plan because you’re such an ass... I didn’t want a Christmas announcement.” “So... you’re.. we’re?” “Yes,” I nod, “you’re Christmas present is on back order.... expected arrival is around July.” I softly inform him with a miniature smile, a little unsure of how he’s going to react to the sudden news... I had hoped to tell him in a better way. “So... this morning wasn’t just you being grumpy and car sick?” “No, you moron. I’ve never been car sick.” “Easy on the name calling,” he chuckles as I lean forward and rest my forehead in the steering wheel. “I feel sick.” “Please don’t get sick in my car–“ he begins and I lift my head to glare at him causing him to stop his statement. “Eh, sorry... come on, I promise if you come inside with me, I’ll make you feel better.” “How?” “Well, I’ll start with not being a dick... then I’ll rub your back and make you a cup of tea or I can rub your stomach, that always makes you feel better.” Harry proposes as he proffers his hand to help me back out of his car, “how long have you known?” Harry questions when I close his car door and hand him the keys. I give him a petite shrug, “I found out two weeks ago... I wanted to tell you in a sweet way... but you screwed that one.” “I’m sorry, love... so this was the bigger picture, huh?” “Yeah, it was to get you away from the office and do spend time with family... there’s ah.. a sonogram in my purse... you can’t see anything because it was just a six week scan to make sure things were okay..” I trail off as I notice the grin spread across his lips. “What?” I tenderly challenge. “I’m so in love with you... I don’t deserve you.. you’re pregnant... you’re giving me a family even though I am an asshole... I jus’... I can’t believe we are having a baby.. it’s the best damn gift.” ... “can I kiss you?” He questions, placing his hands to my waist. I give him a nod with a small chuckle as I lean up and kiss his lips lightly. (I’m probably going to delete this but I just had this mini vision so I tried my best to go with it).

Styles & Co Extras found, HERE. You can find my Harry Master List, HERE

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles writing #Harry styles imagines #harry styles prompt #harry styles prompts #imagine harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles preference #harry styles preferences

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liw-the-melancholic-apple · 4 years

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How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings

A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.

But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?

Masterlist

Seven: New Year's Eve II

I slept in the next morning and called the Crickets right after breakfast. Mrs Cricket told me that Crick had lost his phone privileges and that he was also grounded. That did not sound good for our plans. I kindly asked if she knew whether she and her husband would still be mad at New Year’s Eve, and through a chuckle she said that they didn’t know yet. She did tell me that I didn’t need to worry too much, but she couldn’t make any promises.

I relayed that information to Potter in a quick note, in which I also told him and the other boys that most of my plans had been cancelled but his answer that came only fifteen minutes later only told me to keep him up to date. No mention of any kind of invitation to join them in their shenanigans. Something about his note was off, I thought. It was funny and polite but it seemed to … correct. I wondered if I had offended him by getting involved in his argument the other night. Milla, whose owl arrived that afternoon, would’ve probably known whether I had stepped on his toes but I didn’t want to burden her with my petty problems while she was on “the best holiday ever”. Instead I asked her what she had gotten Remus for Christmas.

That evening I mostly spent on the couch with my parents and Felix.

The next three days were rather uneventful. After deciding that the dress I had worn to Slughorn’s Christmas party and on Christmas Eve at my grandparents would probably get ruined at a noisy and messy pub I had organised some jeans, a skirt and several t-shirts and jackets on my bed to figure out my outfit for New Year’s. As I couldn’t decide at all those clothes just travelled from my bed to my little armchair and back every day.

We fell into the routine of having breakfast together, playing board games – Felix won every single one of them – and watching a lot of TV. As much as I loved my family, I’d had better Christmas breaks. Milla’s letters informed me about the fact that none of the boys she’d met in Austria came even close to Remus and that she had gotten him all kinds of chocolate, a snow globe and a warm, woolly cardigan in his favourite colour.

She wasn’t sure whether he’d be offended at that because most of his clothes were fairly old and distressed. I wrote back saying that a cardigan was a cardigan and his favourite colour was a good choice. Besides, I thought but didn’t put down on paper, he had blushed at the mention of her gift and smiled. I reckoned he was rather touched by her spending some money on something he liked and needed rather than just getting him the goofy snow globe. It was high time those two had a heart to heart and got their feelings out there. They’d be a great couple.

I told myself that the boys had planned this holiday as an elongated boys’ night and didn’t that I’d only be in the way if they had invited me. Especially, if they planned any more “normal Tuesdays’.

The morning of the 31st I moved my clothes back onto the back, stared at them for a bit, was uninspired and decided that it wasn’t too early to call Crick and ask if he was going to the party with me.

“Cricket”

“Jonas?”

“The very same. That you, Jette?

“ Indeed it is. I was wondering whether your brother got his phone privileges back.”

“Guess, you don’t mean Tristan?” He laughed.

“I was thinking of Crick.”

“Well, he’s out with Dad and I don’t know when he’ll be back. But I would be willing to take a message.”

“Oh, would you just have him call me back? My parents only agreed to let me go to that party because he was going to walk me there and back. If he doesn’t get to go I need to come up with a plan B.”

“I see. Mum?...Mum!...”It’s Jette on the phone. She wants to know whether Nate goes to the Raven tonight…He’s supposed to walk her home…Right, mum. She’s fifteen…uhu…hmh…thanks!

Mum says she and Dad talked about it and they’ll let him go but he doesn’t know yet. He’ll probably call you this afternoon and you’re supposed to act very delighted. But there’s no need for a plan B.”

“Tell your parents, they’re the best, yeah? And thanks for getting that done for me.”

“Anytime. See you tonight, then?”

“Tonight. Bye.

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone and skipped back to my room to write to Godric’s Hollow. It was a quick, barely legible letter in which I mainly stated that I didn’t need to make use of Potter’s kind offer. I could have told them a whole lot more and asked when exactly they planned to show up at the pub but since they hadn’t reached out to me, I didn’t really feel like it.

Crick called somewhere around four in the afternoon and told me he was allowed to go to the Raven. As instructed I reacted with delight and we made plans. I would walk over to Crick’s around nine o’clock and then we’d take the pathway to the pub. The Crickets lived at the very edge of Marlowe’s Creek, closest to Godric’s Hollow, but the walk would still take us at least half an hour. We had briefly thought about going earlier but we both figured there was no reason to arrive hours before midnight.

After everything was organised I ran back into my room and chugged the skirt back into its drawer. Thirty minutes – or more – in a snowy December night was not calling for skirts and tights. The rest of my legwear options were all very similar: Jeans in various shades of black and grey. In the end I opted for black and decided to wear my new charcoal grey “The Who’- shirt that one of my cousins had given me for Christmas. I would pretend to be cool, rather than pretty tonight. I put the rest of the clothes back in the various drawers and cupboards and waited for it to be time to go to my first real New Year’s Eve party.

It took forever until mum called us for dinner. In honour of dad’s Dutch family she usually made appleflap for a midnight snack. It was one of the best variations on donuts anybody had ever thought of. Baked apples and donuts and powdered sugar. Since I wasn’t going to be home to wish them all a happy new year and munch down on way too many appleflaps she had decided to fry them in advance and serve them as dessert which I was chuffed about. After we were done eating and chatting and eating some more I got dressed, packed my back and spent quite some time in the bathroom to deal with my hair and face.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Usually I never wore my hair down. It was always crafted into a fairly impressive bun on the top of my head to not be in the way. Now, that I looked at my hip-long dark brown locks, all brushed and shiny I thought that it would add a little umph to me if I had hair to swing around. A high ponytail it was.

And to that I added my usual make-up of mascara and dark lipstick, though I went for a dark maroonish red instead of brown. The result made me rather proud. I looked old enough to go out on New Year’s Eve. I looked cool.

“Don’t you dare go home without Nate, you hear me. I know that you’re responsible enough to not get in trouble but I don’t trust any drunken teenagers or twenty-somethings”, mum said for the third time.

“Why would I go home without him. It’s a pretty boring walk.”

“She’s just worried, cause you’re growing up. Cut her some slag, kid”, dad chuckled, while hugging me. “You look very nice. Don’t drive those boys too crazy, huh.” We both laughed, while Felix rolled his eyes and mum got flustered.

“Don’t give her ideas, Wim!”

“She’s allowed to have fun, right? Calm down, honey, all will be well.” He kissed her on the top of her head and pulled her to his side. I hugged Felix one last time and promised I’d made sure to wish everybody a happy new year from him, waved at my parents and quickly ran out the door, just in case mum changed her mind last minute.

Generally, it took about ten to fifteen minutes to get to Crick’s house and generally, it didn’t bother me but the wind was fairly icy and the coat I had chosen to wear was not necessarily made for winter. But it looked great. When I finally rang the doorbell at the Crickets’ I was already shaking.

Mrs Cricket opened and gave me on of her hyper-happy smiles before pulling me into a hug and the house, leading me into the livingroom.

“Run! She’s gone absolutely mental!”, Crick yelled before we had even entered the room and tried to pull me right back to the door.

“No way to speak to your mother, young man. Not after she was generous enough to let you go to a party with alcohol after what you did last time you saw beer.”

“Can’t we at least agree that you overreact a little?”, Crick asked with a pained reaction. On the couch to our right I saw Tristan, Alanna and Jonas laughing behind their hands, trying hard not to make any sounds. I tried to silently ask them what was going on, but they all just shook their heads.

“Now, I’m sure Jette won’t mind me taking a few pictures. To commemorate your first big party.”

“Uhhmm… okay?” This I had not expected.

“Why would we need to commemorate this?” The couch erupted in laughter.

“Oh shut up, you!”, Mrs Cricket chuckled and went to fetch her camera.

“Ugh!”, moaned Crick and sank into a chair. “This has been going on all day. She’s gone mental, I tell you.” I took off my jacket and sat down.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Because this has been going on all day. Since you called this morning to ask whether you should go with someone else mum’s been all flustered”, Tristan explained.

“I think she’s rather proud that your parents trust Nate this much. And maybe she has a slight case of empty-nest-syndrome. None of us had to take pictures when we first spent New Year’s somewhere else”, Jonas chipped in.

“She’s so cute!”, giggled Alanna.

“It’s not cute, Al. It’s annoying and frustrating and takes up a lot of time”, Crick hissed when his mother returned.

“There we are, lovelies. Won’t take long. Now, how about one picture of you alone, Nate, and one of Jette alone and one of you together and one with Jonas. He’s going, too, after all.”

“Why do you need four pictures of us not doing anything?”, Crick whined, while the sofa had gone back to stifling laughter.

“Don’t be a spoilsport! The longer you argue, the longer you’ll stay here…”

“Ugh, fine!” Crick got up and stood in front of the decorated window, not looking happy.

“Come on, smile!”

“Mum!”

“Smile for me, Nathan.” Crick pulled his face into a weird grimace and his mother snapped a shot. Then, she waved me and Jonas to join Crick, she took another picture and in the end she took one of me alone, in which I was very uncomfortable and understood Crick’s irritation. This was not necessary and pretty strange.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Now come here, I’ll give you a warming charm.”

“Brilliant idea, Mrs Cricket. Thank you!”, I cheered while she waved her wand over me. We both put on our jackets, wished the giggling sofa and a grinning Mr Cricket a happy new year and left.

“I’m sorry, Libby, I don’t know what got into her”, Crick started as soon as we had reached the street.

“No big deal.”

“Still…I’ve already made an arse out of myself once this week I didn’t need another round of humiliation.”

“You’re mum is the sweetest. No need to be humiliated.”

“Tristan said your night was pretty eventful after I left.”

“Well, yeah, Potter got into it with a troll of a muggle. Thought they’d throw punches but he managed to talk the idiot down.”

“Did he seriously snog some 21-year old?”

“I didn’t ask her how old she was. But yeah.” He nodded and trotted in silence.

“Did they make a lot of fun of me?”, Crick asked after a few minutes.

“Fun of you?”

“For getting pissed to the point of no return before eight.”

“No. They didn’t make fun of you.”

“Please! It’s their job to badmouth others!”

“I will never understand why you can’t stand them. Potter said he had expected you to last longer and that it was a weak outing. The others agreed. That was it. Nobody laughed at you, nobody made fun of you.”

“Weak outing, huh. D’you think that, too?”

“No… I was just confused by it. And worried. Didn’t seem like you.”

“Worried? You were worried about me?”

“Yes, I was. When Tristan came back and said he’d take you home, I figured you felt pretty miserable. And you’re parents would be fairly mad, So, I worried.”

“Hmmhmm”

The question why he had gotten so sloshed burnt on the tip of my tongue but I didn’t know how to ask it.

“Jonas said you were drowning your sorrows that night.” No reaction he just looked at the snow covered path that led us through a field. A little to our right was the forest, right to our left the creek.

“I didn’t know you were unhappy. You okay? Anything I can do?” He smiled.

“No, everything’s fine. I was just…the group was…and…” He stopped, took a moment and started again. “I might have been thinking that the Market was our thing. You, me, Tristan, Jonas and Milla. We didn’t even let Felix come. But Alanna got herself invited and then there was dancing and then Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew tagged along.”

“So, what?”

“It’s our thing, Jette! Without us going to the market it’s not really Christmas.”

“I know! But it doesn’t have to be exactly the same every year, does it? I mean Alanna and Tristan seem serious and very slowly approach appropriate wedding-age. She might end up a part of your family, why not have her join in on the traditions. And the dancing is just as much an addition as the beer tent or the rum-spritzed hot chocolate. If nothing ever changed or evolved we’d end up at the merry-go-round every year.” I smiled at him.

“To be honest I’d love it if in like twenty years we’d still do this after the holidays. Each of us with the husbands and wives, children of our own… You can’t expect it to be the same forever.”

“I’m not expecting it to be the same forever. And I’m fine with wives and husbands joining in.”

“But?”

“But Potter and his friends are not wives and husbands.”

“You’re not seriously telling me that you drank yourself off your trolley because those blokes were there?”

“I didn’t plan to throw up!”

“I know”, I whispered. Shouldn’t have brought it up.

“Point is, I made an arse out myself over nothing, and I’m not feeling too good about it. And it didn’t help that I imagined all of you pissing yourselves laughing over how dumb I’ve been.”

“We didn’t do that.”

“Thanks.” He put his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head like he always did. “Now, let’s talk about something more fun.”

“Have you heard any further details on Jonas’ little vamp from that night?” I looked up at him in pure excitement.

“You mean Valerie?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

“Think you do.”

Apparently, Valerie was a Ravenclaw whose grandparents lived in Godric’s Hollow and who had had an eye on Jonas for a while. She stayed with her grandparents for the entire holidays and was friends with a friend of a friend’s of Jonas’ which meant that they would run into each other at the preparty that they both went to.

I asked whether Crick thought that it would get serious between the two of them but he shook his head. In his mind Jonas was still very much under Elaine’s spell.

“He’s talked about her over the holidays. Tried to make it sound casual but it wasn’t. She’s really done it to him.”

We tried to think up an elaborate scheme to get Jonas and Elaine together and were pretty surprised when we found ourselves in front of Morgana’s Raven.

The music was pumping through the air, vibrating the ground and entering my body. Some people stood in the shadows smoking and drinking all kinds of potion looking drinks. We looked at each other and Crick gave me a knowing grin.

“Have at it then. One quick cigarette.”

“That’s why you’re the best!”, I grinned back at him and found a spot under the little pavilion next to the entrance. I lit my smoke and looked around. I had only ever seen the Raven when it was closed during the day, this was the first time I got to actually experience it. And an experience it was.

The building itself had probably been built in the 1800s, white with brown beams and the big sign over the double door reading Morgana’s Raven in black gothic letters, two ravens at both sides. There were statues and images of ravens all over the little front garden that also had three tables with benches around them and a bar table. I spotted some giant kibbles next to the doors and figured that they had flowers or other plants in them during the spring and summer months.

The tables, benches, pavilion and doors were all black as the night and gave the whole building – despite the white walls – a spooky and haunted vibe. I loved it. The fact that it was an all magical pub and invisible to muggles only made it all more important, cool and exclusive.

Crick watched me watch the place and laughing people with a vague smile.

“You look amazing by the way. Love your hair like that”, he said in a soft voice when I was done taking in all the impressions. I felt myself blushing. I never blushed.

“Thanks…” I looked him up and down. He had cut his hair again and wore a black dress shirt with blue jeans under his winter coat.

“You look quite dapper yourself, if I may say so”, I regained my emotional balance, smiling up at him.

“I hoped you’d be impressed.”

“And impressed I am. Wanna go in?”

“Yeah, let’s do i…”

“Oi, Goods! Mind if we join?” A group of four approached us, cigarettes in hand.

Remus was the first to pull me into a short hug, then the rest followed.

“Cricket!”, Remus shook Crick’s hand.

“Glad to hear you got to come. My parents would have grounded me for ages… How bad was it?”, Pettigrew said while shaking Crick’s hand. Crick didn’t seem all too happy to see them but was surprised by their genuine approach.

“I was grounded all week. No phone. No TV. No fun. Mum told me this morning that I could go.”

“So, de Witt said”, Potter answered. “Wait, no fun? I thought de Witt was supposed to hang out with you every day.”

“That was the plan. But I kind or ruined that by getting smashed…”

“So, what have you been doing the past couple of days” Black looked at me.

“Oh you know, enjoyed the time with my family, tidied my room, organised Christmas presents…”

“Why didn’t you tell us you had nobody to go to? Could’ve come over to ours”, Potter asked with the most confused face I had ever seen on him.

“Euhm… I thought you were mad at me for interfering in you fight… Dunno…Didn’t want to make you any angrier…”

„Mad at you?“

„You got involved in a fight?!“ Crick stared at me in utter shock.

“No”, Black answered for me “James here got into a fight and Goods defended him.”

We quickly told Crick the whole story about the giant man and his cheating girlfriend.

“Thanks, man”, Crick said, one hand on Potter’s shoulder.

“Come again?”

“For making sure she didn’t get herself in any trouble. I appreciate it.”

“Sure.” Potter turned to me. “Why on earth did you think I’d be angry?”

“Just.. your letter seemed so… polite. I didn’t trust it…”

“And you hate pissing people of which means that you always assume you do”, Crick added. All the boys chuckled for a second.

“Look we’ve crashed your traditions last time already”, Black said throwing his fag to the ground and stepping on it. “Won’t do that again. Find us at midnight, yeah?” He waved his friends to follow him and they all went inside.

“See, there not at all bad.”

“Guess so. They didn’t invite themselves to tag along all night. And anybody who keeps you from getting slapped is a good person in my book.”

“You do realise I can look after myself?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

He pulled me by the hood of my coat and led me to the double doors to finally get to the party we had both been looking forward to for weeks.

The inside of the raven was even better than the outside. The whole place was covered in knee high fog that I suspected was conjured with the help of a well-executed sculptile charm. For all I could tell the floor was made of black marble, there were no windows, they had real crows and ravens flying all over the place in the high ceiling that was completely covered in black satin. The walls displayed different paintings and renderings of Morgana, Merlin, Avalon and Excalibur, the first goblin sword that was ever kept by wizards and – if I remembered correctly – one of the reasons for the goblin riots.

The room was gigantic and hexagon shaped, a bar at every other wall. Directly opposite the double door we had just come through a silver podium had been erected on which a band played live music. I had to do a double take but it really was Baba Yaga. One of the hottest new wizarding bands of this year.

Crick and I both squealed at the idea that we would see them live before we remembered that we were very cool teenagers that went to concerts of popular bands all the time.

“Tickets!” A woman roughly the age of my parents stood next to the door and held out her hand. We put our tickets in it, she took out her wand and mumbled something, then a silver raven appeared on both our left wrists.

“Have fun!” The woman smiled a lot wider and warmer than I had expected and pushed us into the room, to let the next group of people in.

Despite the 100 or 200 people in the room it wasn’t hot, but warm enough to want out of the jackets. We through them in the pile on one of the window sills and let the crowd sent us to one of the bars.

“Fancy anything in particular”, Crick yelled in my ear over the music. I studied the menu that was written out in silver chalk on a huge blackboard. They had the typical wizarding drinks like Fire Whiskey, Giggle Water and Butterbeer. But I also spotted my mum’s favourite drink: Daisy draught and several kinds of mead that were all listed above an array of cocktails I had never heard of before.

“Think I’ll have the Daisy Draught”, I finally said.

“Like mother like daughter”, Crick laughed and ordered the draught for me and a Raven Mead for himself. I was going through my handbag to get the 15 sickles I owed him but he wouldn’t take them.

“My treat”, he said. “Cause I left you alone all this time.”

Drink in hand we fought our way through the crowd and to the stage where Baba Yaga now performed their number one hit Soul Eater and we went absolutely crazy.

Jonas and his friends – among which vamp Valerie – arrived roughly an hour after us, positively inebriated and up for a good time. Jonas instantly found us and forced us to follow him to the bar where he treated us to shots of Gigglewater and a Glass of Master’s Brew each. It tasted like a holiday in Tahiti and I decided to never have more than one of those. The alcohol was not detectable although the menu informed me that there was rum, firewhiskey, gillywater and gold leave brandy in it. This was one of those drinks that my dad referred to as dangerously unsuspicious and headache inducing. But it was so good.

Jonas introduced us to his friends, some of which I knew from my own common room or the great hall and some of which I had never seen before. Valerie was the sweetest girl I had ever met which absolutely clashed with her mysterious ‘come-hither’- appearance. She was just a year older than me and told me how jealous she was that I got to spend my time with so many gorgeous boys.

“First you grow up with all the Cricket boys and get to be the apple of their eye – from all I hear – and then you work your way into that group around Potter. Please, tell me you’ve snogged at least one of them!” I admitted that I hadn’t and hadn’t even thought about it which led Valerie to hit her head against the wooden bar top.

“How is that even possible? Do you have eyes?”

“I do. And they work fine.”

“Are you into girls? I mean those girlfriends of you don’t look too shabby either.”

“Nope, not into girls. I used to have a crush on Crick when I was in second or third year but that’s been over forever.”

“Which one’s Crick?”

“Nathaniel. Nate. You probably have classes with him, right?”

“Right, right… Why don’t you call him Nate?”

I explained to her that Milla had a phase when she was about four or five years old where she would refer to everybody by their last names. She herself had become Scibbyderson, I was Devit and Crick became Crick. Why only his botched last name stuck as a nickname I didn’t know but it was how he’d gotten it.

Valerie leaned in even closer and yanked my ear to her mouth. “You know Jonas well, yeah?”

“I guess…”

“You think I have a chance with him?”

“Didn’t you already take him home? I’d say that constitutes…

“”I mean in the long run”, she interrupted me. I bit my lip.

“Honestly, that’s not the kind of stuff I talk to him about. I reckon Crick might know, but it’s most likely that Jonas takes Tristan as his confidant. Sorry.”

“It’s just that I think he doesn’t fancy me. He doesn’t seem interested in me.”

As if he’d heard us talk about him Jonas threw one arm around each of us.

“Ladies! Time to dance dance dance! Let’s not waste the last fifteen minutes of this year standing at a bar sipping stale drinks and talking about nail polish” we both shot very disapproving looks at him “let’s spend it laughing and twirling and shouting and celebrating.”

He dragged us into the middle of the dance floor where we also found Crick and the rest of Jonas’ group who all instantly welcomed us in their little circle. Given that I had never talked to any of these people aside form Jonas and Crick I felt surprisingly at home. Older students didn’t necessarily give younger ones the time of day, so I their welcoming manner was baffling at first, but then I realised that I had spent most of this school year with older students – either Crick, Magnus and Toby or the Potter-posse and realised that maybe I had just let down my guard and was more approachable.

About two minutes before midnight Crick took my hand and followed the moving crowd outside. I had neither an idea where my jacket was nor time to grab it and the cold December air hit me like a wall of ice. But I didn’t complain. The flyers for the party had advertised “the biggest firework display in the history of Morgana’s Raven, sponsored by Dr Filibuster’s Fabulous Fireworks” and I really didn’t want to miss that.

In the last minute before midnight the lady who had taken our tickets conjured a giant grandfather clock, made out of silver, encrusted with Ravens and knights from the round table to let us all count down together. I reached for my cigarette case and inhaled the last smoke of this year. Crick noticed my shaking and put an arm around me.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!”

Light and colours and explosions everywhere around me. I turned to hug Crick and wish him a happy new year to then enjoy what had to be the grandest firework extravaganza ever and then everything went wrong.

#marauders fanfiction #marauders era #harry potter #james & peter & remus & sirius #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #original character

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stirlingphoenix · 7 years

Note

jason todd/roy harper hahahahahaha

Ah!! Thank you so much Rie! It’s been so long, I’ll try my best for you!

send me ✿ + a ship and i’ll tell you…

who is more excited for halloween?

Roy. I can see Roy really getting into the Halloween spirit and decorating his and Jason’s apartment, trying to set silly traps up where if Jason were to trigger them, some sort of spooky decoration would pop out and scare him. But the thing is, they never work. Jason can see all of these tricks from a mile away, no matter how sly Roy tries to be. Eventually Jason gets annoyed to the point where he sets up a trap up himself, which Roy falls for within the first 10 minutes. To this day Jason has yet to let Roy live it down!

who gives the best gifts?

Jason, and it pisses Roy off too, because Roy spends weeks in advance trying to figure out the perfect gift for Jason, but then Jason has the audacity to come home bearing some sort of trinket, saying, ‘it made me think of you’, in such a simple way that drives Roy insane because why can’t he do that?? Yet Jason is so sincere and earnest when he presents the gift, that the initial anger is soon forgotten it melts Roy’s heart every single time.

who sings along to the radio the loudest?

Roy. I swear, this man is a human jukebox in the way he seems to know every song that comes up on the radio, regardless of the genre or station. He’s totally unashamed in the way he belts out the lyrics, and Jason will never admit it, but he loves Roy’s voice. Even if it’s a song he despises, he adores the way Roy sings along. Roy totally knows how Jason feels though, he’s caught the soft smile that graces Jason’s lips while he’s driving and singing along from the corner of his eye on more than one occasion.

who actually finishes a book they’ve started?

Roy. Once he’s found a sweet action/adventure story that really grabs his attention, he’s hooked, and he’ll see it through to the end! Jason on the other hand, to me, feels like the kind of guy who might try to read something, especially if Roy suggested it to him, but once the surroundings are right for reading (ie warm, quite, preferably somewhere near Roy), he’ll nod off within the first 10 minutes.

who falls asleep during a movie?

Jason. Again, when the conditions are just right, and this time he is most definitely curled up with Roy, he just feels so safe and warm, he can’t help but doze off, especially if Roy decides to casually run his fingers through Jason’s hair while they’re watching something.

who plans a surprise getaway vacation?

Jason. He’s pretty much like: “Pack your bags, Roy. We’ve got places to be.” and Roy is so low-key that he goes along with it, all the while knowing that Jason has an ulterior motive that he has yet to share with him (read: an international mission). So I guess it’s not so much of a vacation, so much as it’s the job, only this time certain opportunities arise, which Roy is eager to take advantage of. “Oh look how convenient, the beach is just 2 km away. When in Rome, amiright, or amiright, Jaybird?”

who comes home with useless decorative knick knacks for the house every single day?

Neither. I think both Jason and Roy are the type to spend their money on high-tech home security, gadgetry, or anything far more useful. Though, as stated earlier, if anyone brings home a knick-knack on occasion it’s Jason, simply because the trinket made him think of Roy.

who takes more pictures?

Roy. He has to get a quick snapshot of anything he finds aesthetically pleasing, and he’s always trying to get more pictures of Jason. But the thing is, Jason never willingly lets Roy take his picture. Whenever Roy has his phone out and it’s obvious that he’s trying to get a shot, Jason turns away or darts out of the camera’s view, however Roy’s managed to get a few good shots in when he thinks Jason’s not looking. In reality, Jason knows, but in those circumstances he’s too tired to put up a fight, and often when Roy takes the picture Jason’s feeling melancholic, because he hasn’t accepted the fact that someone like Roy exists, who actually wants to be able to see him, even when he’s not physically present, and wants his image imprinted somewhere so it can be remembered forever. For some reason, after every time these ‘secret’ photos are taken, Jason finds himself wrapped in Roy’s warm embrace, with soft kisses pressed against his temple and sweet whispers teling him just how much he means to Roy.

who likes baths? who likes showers?

Both Jason and Roy prefer showers, one because they prefer to be quick and efficient about the entire process, but more notably, because of the hot, steamy shower sex. There’s just something about the sound the water makes when it hits the tile and splashes everywhere that just makes both Jason and Roy go wild. If by chance they find themselves in the shower together, it’s only a matter of seconds before one of them is pinning the other against the wall, smashing their lips together in heated kisses and hands touching every inch of bare skin within reach, quickly giving away to passionate love-making.

who keeps a weekly planner?

Jason, however this something he fills out retroactively, jotting down every decision he’s made, everything he’s done, why he did it, and when he did it, because every once in awhile, he gets into a self-destructive state of mind where he can’t help but question his motives and wonder if his way really is the right way. Filling out this weekly planner with all of his accomplishments was actually Roy’s idea, because while he’s always there to support Jason through all of this, it helps when there’s an entire book full of Jason’s work that Roy can pull out to remind him that what he does really makes a difference in the world.

who actually watches the discovery channel?

Roy, simply because I think he has a greater sense of morbid curiosity.

who brings up having kids first?

Jason. If these two ever settled down to the point where they could feasibly raise a child together, Jason would eventually ask about it. After what happened with Lian, I’m not sure that he would feel like he was capable of raising a child, even with Jason at his side. This is where Jason would have to step in and rescue Roy from his tortured past, and make him realize that things are different now, he’s a far cry from the man he used to be, and that he’s not alone.

who fixes things around the house when they break?

Jason. I feel like he developed a knack for fixing things during his late childhood/early teen years while living at Wayne Manor, because he never wanted to admit to Bruce or Alfred whenever he missed his target with a dart gun, and ended up sending a priceless antique vase to the floor. It’s a good thing that he kept that talent, because Roy can be a bit of a klutz at times.

who leaves their dirty towels on the floor?

Both, actually. Getting either of these two men to do laundry before one of them takes the last pair of clean underwear is like pulling teeth.

who makes the coffee in the morning?

Jason. Please don’t try to get Roy up before noon, he has a tendency to bite.

who gets jealous over very petty things?

Jason. After years of being compared to Dick, Jason tends to get on edge if Roy even mentions his predecessor or his replacements. While he knows better and trusts Roy with all his heart and soul, a small part of him fears that someday Roy will wise up and realize that he chose the wrong boy wonder to spend the rest of his life with.

who exercises more?

Both Jason and Roy are equal in their exercise routines. Not only do they work together, but they also spot each other while lifting weights and will do cardio workouts together.

who starts listening to christmas music in october?

After Jason gets Roy with the Halloween pranks he’d been trying to pull on Jason since the end of August, Roy usually decides to cut his losses and moves onto Christmas. Mainly because he’s low-key bitter that Jason got him so effortlessly, and he needs some way to annoy Jason. Jokes on Roy though, Jason kind of digs the holiday tunes (especially if Roy’s singing them).

who actually reads the newspaper?

Jason. He has the constant need to know the impact his work has had on society, and he’s kind of old-school in the fact that he’s more comfortable having something tangible in his hands and being able to feel the newsprint under his fingertips, as opposed to reading news articles online.

I probably got a little too carried away with this, but I regret nothing! Thanks again for asking, Rie!!

#nooowestayandgetcaught #jayroy #jason todd #roy harper #jason x roy #dc

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himbowelsh · 7 years

Note

Webgott 💙💙💙

meme my heart away (ACCEPTING)

who hogs the duvet

Lieb is an inconsummate blanket hog, and he has no shame. Their nights often turn into a duel for dominance of the bed, but especially cold nights they inevitable wake up with Lieb hogging the blankets and Web hogging Lieb.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Web’s a writer. He, like... does that as a job. Writers will do anything to avoid actually writing. Web is the kind of check-in texts. “what’s up?” “how are you doing?” “good morning!” When Lieb’s cutting hair he’ll usually respond right away, but if he’s driving his cab he’ll have his phone shut off and won’t answer until the end of his shift. (He won’t admit it, but seeing David’s texts always make him smile.)

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Web loves the idea of going all-out with gifts, but the truth is he’s no good at gift-giving. He either can’t think of anything or comes up with an idea that’s impossible to accomplish. Plus, getting gifts is a lot of effort, and he’s sort of lazy. He’s more likely to make a card or buy something at a gift shop on a whim. Liebgott, however, will come up with the unexpected perfect gift -- clever and just on the right side of sentimental.

who gets up first in the morning

Web will sleep in until noon if he has the opportunity, then hate himself for it late. Joe -- an early riser by necessity, not choice -- has the thankless job of dragging him out of bed. (If he’s feeling nice, he’ll have coffee ready for him when he wakes up.)

who suggests new things in bed

Joe is nothing if not adventurous in bed. Web is a little vanilla, but is always willing to experiment, and has surprised himself by what he’s into.

who cries at movies

Freakin’ Web will bawl over happy movies, sad movies, and everything in between. He’s also kind of a movie buff, so Joe will frequently find him bawling over foreign films he’s never even heard of before, and have no way to comfort him. Joe, who never cries at movies, is baffled.

who gives unprompted massages

Web’s got magic hands, and when Joe is wound up from a long day at work he’ll often surprise him with a soothing massage. Nothing works better to get Joe out of a rotten mood.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Web is kind of useless when people are sick, okay? Hell, he’s useless when he’s sick. He just doesn’t handle sickness or vulnerable people at all, and tries to avoid them at all costs. Joe, on the other hand, has a well-hidden caretaking streak that runs a mile wide. He doesn’t enjoy it, but if someone needs to be looked after he’ll step up and do it damn well.

who gets jealous easiest

They’re both as bad as the other; however, Joe’s shameless about it, while Web tries to pretend he’s above that. They are not above public displays of extreme affection to show everyone else where they stand.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Joe is really into classic rock. He likes old rock like AC/DC, The Clash, even smoother songs from The Smiths. Meanwhile Web is into a little bit of everything (even rap, which he can appreciate for it’s poetic value even if some of the language makes him uncomfortable). He’s into a lot of indie music, but writes best to instrumental soundtracks and even ambience/ASMR stuff.

who collects something unusual

Lieb has a massive comic book collection, but it’s nothing compared to Webster’s shark memorabilia. He’s got entire shelves of that stuff. It freaks Liebgott out a bit, as much as he loves seeing Web so passionate about something.

who takes the longest to get ready

Webster has two modes: “actual disney prince” or “severely caffeine-deprived, hasn’t met a razor or a bed in weeks”. Liebgott doesn’t need to put much effort into his look; he throws on jeans and a leather jacket, ruffles his hair, then he’s good to go. Webster either puts all the effort into his appearance, or none at all.

who is the most tidy and organised

Webster is tidy in everything except his writing. He leaves papers and notebooks scattered everywhere. Lieb is constantly tripping over them, but Web doesn’t even feel bad, because his boyfriend leaves his junk everywhere at all times. Lieb is a walking hurricane, and it shows.

who gets most excited about the holidays

They both get surprisingly into it. Lieb is a Halloween guy through and through. Meanwhile, Web gets really into Christmas, and turns sentimental around Valentine’s Day. (He’s not afraid to write it off as a corporate scam, but it still means something to celebrate it.)

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Web likes to be the little spoon. It takes him a while to get used to sleeping with people; once he does, he finds he can’t sleep alone. He’s also prone to bouts of insomnia, so Lieb will wrap him in his arms and soothe him to sleep.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

THEY ARE THE MOST COMPETITIVE COUPLE it’s not even funny. It doesn’t matter WHAT they’re doing, it turns into a competition.

who starts the most arguments

They don’t need to start arguments. They just happen. Usually Joe is the instigator, but Web is definitely not above picking petty arguments if he’s in the right mood.

who suggests that they buy a pet

They’ve both considered getting a pet before, but neither of them would do well taking care of a living creature and keeping it that way. Maybe one day, when they’re less... volatile together.

what couple traditions they have

Whenever Web is feeling insecure about his writing or just needs a proofreader, Lieb will make the time to do it. Also, Joe basically drives Web wherever he wants to go, so that’s kind of a tradition for them.

what other couple they hang out with

No one wants to go on double dates with them, because they’re insufferable. They’re either being gross or arguing like cats and dogs, they have no in-between. They hang out with Babe and Gene sometimes, just because Babe and Lieb are friends, but they’re really hard to stand sometimes.

how they spend time together as a couple

They’re a very passionate couple. Wither they’re arguing with each other, having sex with each other, or just... talking to each other. It wouldn’t seem like it, since they get on each others’ nerves so often, but they actually have a very deep emotional connection. They get each other in ways neither of them expected they would, and when they really get going they can just talk for hours.

who made the first move

Joe hit on Web for ages before Web finally got the hint, but Web was the one who kissed him first.

who brings flowers home

Web is just the type of person to eat up ridiculously sentimental stuff like this, but Liebgott obviously isn’t gonna do it. Web is willing to step up to the plate; he’s brought home roses on more than one occasion, just for Lieb.

who is the best cook

Liebgott, for sure. Liebgott can at least handle him in the kitchen. Web could burn water.

#headcanons #webgott #Anonymous

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purplesurveys · 6 years

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Have you ever been to Las Vegas? No. Doesn’t seem all that appealing to me anyway. What did you have for breakfast this morning? I didn’t eat breakfast which is a stupid idea considering I drank quite a bit last night...I did have a small piece of chocolate Pop-Tarts from at Gabie’s place this morning to mask my breath when I came home. Do you have any loose change in your pocket? I don’t have pockets on me right now. Do you like Taylor Swift? Her past singles were catchy, but that’s all I’ll give her. Everything I’ve heard about her attitude has just yelled petty to me. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? Strictly Disney Channel? High School Musical or Tw*tches.

If you met your favorite celebrity, would you be calm or starstruck? LOL I would probably cry if faced with Kristen Stewart. I’ll be starstruck in a calm way (so to answer your question, I’ll be both) and just maybe pull her in for a huge hug because I love her so much. Are there any lights on in the room you’re in? Yeah we have lights in the dining room but it’s daytime so the natural lighting from the sun is enough for now. What’s your favorite subject in school? I was always the teacher’s pet in history. I’m in college now though and have different classes per semester; my favorite class in the last sem would have to be art studies. What’s your favorite holiday? Halloween, even though I hate referring to it as a holiday because it’s not. I just pick that because I hate every other holiday. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. Sounds like something I’ll always put off haha. Do you think Bad Romance is a catchy song or an annoying one? Catchy. Whether played in 2009 or 2018, best believe I’ll sing along and even slightly dance to it. Do you use perfect grammar online? If perfect = formal then no. Are you currently using a laptop? Yep. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Music software? Damn. Anyway, no I don’t really like live editions of songs, no matter how much I love the artist or no matter how good it is. Did you or do you listen to Britney Spears songs? I never did voluntarily, even as a kid in the 2000′s. I remember her songs were everywhere though - in kid’s parties, at the mall, on TV, everywhere. Is it a windy day? It has been today, actually! The nicest surprise I’ve had all day so far. In the past week, have you ridden in a taxi? No, I never ride taxis because the drivers here are creepy and even be kidnappers. I’d much rather book an Uber or Grab, which is an alternative to Uber but in Southeast Asia. Do you ever wish on stars at night? Not really. I would if I chance upon a shooting star, but those never happen in my area. What color are your eyes? Dark brown. What album is the current song you’re listening to off of? I’m not listening to music at the moment. What’re you doing after you finish this? Move upstairs and either take a nap or another survey. What song’s the most overplayed right now? There is another song by The fucking Vamps called Personal and as usual they are bugging the living shit out of me. It literally plays in three different radio stations within five minutes and it drives me nuts when I’m driving. They are the actual worst. Please break up. Are you in a band? No. How clean is your bedroom? Super tidy. Is there a pen within reaching distance of you? No, there isn’t. Are you sitting at a desk? No. I’m at the dining table but moving to my bed after. Does your favorite band have a male or female lead singer? [continued after taking a nap three hours ago] Female singer from an awesome band that rhymes with ‘paramour’! Do you normally shut your bedroom door before you go to sleep? Yes, absolutely yes. Rest assured I will not fall asleep if it’s ajar even the slightest bit; it has to be shut all the way through. I can’t sleep with any light around, so. Have you seen the movie Moulin Rouge? No. I know Gab has a physical DVD but I’ve never seen the movie. Would you ever dye your hair a different color? Of course. It’s just a matter of when I’ll do it, because right now I’m still pretty indecisive about which color I’ll be getting, bitching about how expensive and high-maintenance it’s going to be, and worrying about everything having to do with bleach. Are there any framed pictures in the room you’re in? Yeah. My kindergarten grad photo is framed, and my high school clique’s photo is also in a frame on my bedside drawer. Have you ever been to a Broadway show? Nope. Not really my thing, but it’s the sort of thing I’d surprise my girlfriend with since she’s all about Broadway. What’s your favorite movie soundtrack? I don’t have one. I’ll just stick with my default answer Carol. Do you prefer group or individual work? Really depends on what kind of work we’re talking. Anything with creatives or logistics, I would much rather be in a group since I cannot for the life of me be creative, or even be forced to be creative. I can be helpful in other ways when it comes to that; but every other work outside of that–say a research paper, or a chapter report, or an investigatory project, I’m okay with doing on my own. Do you have a key to anything besides your house? Just my car. Are you wearing anything with stripes? Oooh I am. My top is black and white striped. It was actually the top I wore to the high school batch reunion last night, but it’s a little comfy so I haven’t changed out of it yet. What time did you go to sleep last night? Er around 1 or 2 AM, not really sure. I just instantly passed out on Gab’s bed and don’t remember anything since I was waaaay too tired. Did anyone tell you that you were beautiful today? Yep. What show did you last watch? RuPaul’s Drag Race, which I watched with Katreen and Gabie when we were at the former’s house last Thursday. I initially groaned when Katreen suggested it cos I thought the show was going to be too loud and fast-paced for my taste, but thEN OH MY GOD EVERYTHING IS PINK AND BRIGHT AND FABULOUS. We ended up watching a second episode. Do you think you’ll do anymore surveys today? I hope so. I’m kinda disappointed with myself for taking very few surveys during my break, when I said I was excited to finally spam my own blog with them after the last sem practically ate me up and never gave me time. I go back to school Tuesday and I probably took like 10-15 surveys total in four weeks, yuck @ self. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Cookies and cream. I also really liked queso real in my early teens. When was the last time you stayed home from school sick? 6th grade. Eight years ago. Insane. Could you ever complete a 500-piece puzzle? I could try! My girlfriend actually has a 1000- or 1500-piece puzzle of a painting that we tried to finish with her little sister during a sleepover, but I was boring and fell asleep by 2 AM. It’d be nice to try it again. If you could run a red light and not get caught, would you? No. Thing is, so many Filipino drivers do that already; hence why we are one of the most terrible on the road. I’ve seen enough videos to not want to even try it. Do any bands flat-out annoy you? I would say yes but it’s an insult to the word ‘band’ if I referred to The Vamps as one, because they’re my sole annoyance. Do you have a mirror in your bedroom? I had before my mom got it removed ugh. Was today a birthday for any of your friends? It’s Reggy’s birthday, who’s a girl I went to grade school and high school with. I wouldn’t consider her a friend. When was the last time you rode in a limo? I’ve never done it. Do you take naps daily? Hahaha yeah almost everyday. That’s gonna stop when I go back to school. Do you still make Christmas lists? No. I think I made it for one or two years before I finally called bullshit on Santa. Do you watch the show Dexter? Yes, mainly because they said it was like Breaking Bad and because CM Punk watched it. Didn’t like the first episode, haven’t tried rewatching it since. Have you ever been to any sort of convention? No. Which song did you last listen to on repeat? Probably Tessellate by Alt-J. < Good choice. I’m now super garbage compared to that, because mine is Bruno Mars’s Finesse collab with Cardi B hahaha. Where do you want to live when you grow up? Just in the city where all the hurly-burly is. It gets boring living in a suburban ish environment. Are you currently using a blanket? Nope. Are there any songs that make you cry? Yeah sometimes, there are instances I’ll sing along to a certain song and feel them more than usual. I’ve cried to When It Rains by Paramore on my bad days. How many siblings do you have? Two, both younger. What’re you doing this weekend? Binge-watching Black Mirror and enjoying the final days of my Christmas break. Do you prefer swimming at the beach or in a pool? Beach. The chlorine in the pool turns me away from it, plus with so many kids swimming in pools you never know if you’re already swimming in wee. When was the last time you had a haircut? Some time in November. Which musical instrument do you think sounds the prettiest? PIANO. Without a shadow of a doubt. Do you know what you want for Christmas? I didn’t want anything for Christmas for the first time in my life. That’s a little sad, innit? I got the 2018 Starbucks planner, which I was more than happy about. Gabie got me all sorts of jewelry, a blanket, and a sparkly pink tumbler and I loved each gift; and my sister got me a doggy pencil case and made personalized stickers for me. I loved all of them. Do you watch fireworks on New Year’s Eve? Yes, that’s a family tradition. Not going out to watch them just feels foreign and empty to me, since we’ve done it all my life. Is your birthday within the next three months? Yup. *silent panicking* How long is the song you’re listening to? Three and a half minutes. Are you anticipating anything this week? Yeah I am pretty excited to attend my new set of classes. It’s my first sem to have four majors too, so that’s another thing I’m waiting to experience. Will I be okay? Will it kill me? Will I have nervous breakdowns? Who knows. Is your mom or dad the older parent? They were born in the same year, but my dad is older by eight months. Do you watch anything on E!? Just Keeping Up. Are you going to get off the computer now that you’ve finished this? No, I might take another one.

#survey #surveys

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