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huenjin · 3 years

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 (𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓)

genre | fluff, toothbiting fluff, and slightly suggestive

warnings | hints at nsfw in slight occasions, but it's still very sfw.

members | bang chan, minho, changbin, hyunjin, jisung, felix, seungmin, jeongin

note | tried at making it gender neutral. also, this is my first hc, if this is what it is, so please do tell me if it's any good.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

downright going to be the most classic one. he'd bring you over for a christmas dinner, his mum and dad looking at you quizzically and you swear to god it was the most raveling moment ever in your whole life. the fear, the anxiety and the pain of being rejected by his parents weighs far too much in your head. however, chan would hold your hand, rub small circles at the junction between your thumb and your other fingers and tell his parents that you're his bestfriend, his lover, the one he loves in the present and hopefully for a long time. that he wants to spend his christmas with every single human being that he loves under the same roof. it is only after this that his parents calm down, cheer up and are overjoyed that their son has found someone to be with — to share his happiness and sadness with. will go down in your history as one of the best christsmases you have shared.

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

here to spread the college boyfriend!minho agenda. this was off this ad that i saw the other day and idek why i found it cute but it was dead cute and i knew that's definitely minho. 100%. so you're over at his lodging room in college in his shirt — minho swears to god he finds you the cutest in his shirts — watching this romcom on netflix on his laptop. you're cuddled up against him on his bed and minho's kissing your cheeks occasionally when you're too engrossed into the movie, making sure he gets the gasp and the chuckle exactly from you. and all was going well till he gets a video call notification from his mother and he's scrambling up from his bed, angling the mirror away from you as he answers, "hi, mom." his mother would ask of him to show his new room, something he was supposed to do earlier and he sighs, "can we do this tomorrow? it's late and i have this assignment to do?" but his mother wouldn't have it any other way and insists — determination running through their family veins evidently. and here you are, scrambling around his room everytime he moves to show his room to his mum, just to avoid the camera. until you can sit back on the bed and minho's rushing to end the conversation, "can i please go do my assignments now, mum?" you know you're royally fucked when minho's mother laughs, only to ask her son, "does your assignment wear your shirts now? you should introduce them to me."

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

changbin's whole family knows you already. in fact, if anything, it was his sister that forced him to finally ask you out because he has been crushing on you forever. the following events happen in this particular order: you're the cute cashier at his favorite drink place and if college has taught him one thing, it is never to miss out on an opportunity and he knows he must ask you out. his sister is with him and finds him all awe eyed at you and she knows. she also knows that her brother is a wimp and won't ask you out so she nags him over throwing litter all over in his room if he doesn't. changbin thinks it's the extra push he needed and he does ask you out while paying his bill — a mere, "uhm, i think you're cute. if you happen to have some, uh, free time this saturday evening, we could go watch a movie or something. oh, i mean, of course, if only you're free and if you haven't watched the movie and like everyone seems to be busy and you're just so so pretty i ha—" changbin still remembers the way you giggled, the way you held your chest and the way you smiled and nodded. changbin's family knows that very evening because siblings are snitches deep down and his sister yells as soon as she enters the home, even before she has taken her shoes off — "listen, listen! our changbinnie grew up. guess who has a lover, guess who, guess who!" all changbin could yell back was, "they are prettier than you and nicer than you!" and stick his tongue out. needless to say, changbin was found picking scrap paper off his room's floor at 2am.

𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

lowkey his parents are suspicious of you and think you're not a great person and this is another episode of hwang hyunjin getting overly attached and loving another human. you can't blame them. experiences make parents cautious and when all of hwang hyunjin's relationship has ended him with an aching heart, you know you'd be suspicious of the next person he brings home too. he brings you home for dinner and his parents were definitely not expecting another member. it starts with frigid stares and hard, short answers and hyunjin has to hold your hand to stop you from crying because you feel like you lost your chance even before you had it. that is till, hyunjin speaks up, "mum, dad. i love them. and i know you guys are doing this because you fear they're going to break my heart—" "i wouldn't," you mumble, "you're going to break mine if this ends." and hyunjin chuckles, kissing your cheek before his parents. he turns to them and repeats the same, "i love them. so much and i hope you can accept them and not pin all my bad experiences on them. please." it takes a few more meetings for his parents to warm up to you but it happens slowly over the time, till — you're now spending every other weekend with his mum to bake cakes.

𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

so jisung, as much as he needs the caring and loving, is an eccentric man. he's so eccentric you're so sure you fell for him because of that, because of how he manages to make you always smile. so eccentric that he had a whole ppt presentation on why everyone should be like you. and this stupid boyfriend who is oh so in love shows this before his parents to announce how he's dating you. it's like a one slide presentation. he's planned it all out for days. he'll bring you over in the guise of being a friend and then surprise his parents after dinner by turning this great one slide presentation on. it'll have a picture of you on the side and points in bullets to the left — of how you're pretty, of how you're funny, how you make him want to be a better person, how he wants to continue going to the orphanage to help every sunday with you, how he wants to give you his world. how you're the nicest person he knows. your parents are smiling and they know. they know even before the announcement that you're his lover and better half and you make him happy and so does he. and courtesy of jisung's great brain, the animations rotate and land and the last two lines are so big that you blush and are embarrassed but god fucking help you, you're so in love with him that this makes your heart race. "be like y/n. be my lover," races into the screen and you think the animations makes it even more quirkier than it already is. until his mother makes everyone laugh even more by asking, "are you asking us all out, sungie? doubt they would like that."

𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

another one of the classic introduction types. felix asks you if it's alright for him to finally introduce you to his family and you nod, heart fluttering because you know for sure this is a huge step. upon much consideration, you agree to go for dinner with his parents at his place the following weekend. you're asking him over the week if this dress was alright or if you should go for formals and as much as he reassures you that it's not a huge deal — it is a huge deal to you. you want his parents to know how serious you are of him. you even being a gift home that night and bake some muffins and his mother is just really impressed (if she wasn't already flustered by all the stuff you brought). and when you know you have warned up enough to them, you know his mother is going to show the embarassing pictures just to fluster her son and it works. you do spend some good hours with his parents — his dad giving you a thumbs up to be new fashioned as you leave and his mum waving you good bye — and it is only after this you sigh in relief, tension off your shoulders. you've left a good impression and felix knows this too as he kisses you in his car.

𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

seungmin is the softest boyfriend ever. i mean seriously, if the whole world already didn't know the two of you were dating would be a surprise — it's the pretty bracelets you wear, the matching hoodies found in your closets or how you're just always in his blue hoodie. always. and so when seungmin is rushing you, two weeks into official dating for you to meet his parents, you're wide eyed. all he has to say is, "i'll be going to marry you either way. why wait till the day before marriage to show you off to my parents also." and he'd be so thrilled. seungmin's mum is enthralled because he is enthralled. he is so excited to tell his parents about you and about how you're his lover. his to show off. his to love. for years to comes. and you're blushing in front of his parents, ears heated up at the term. seungmin's dad jokingly pats his son's back, laughing, "have you grown up already to bring someone home?" and he nods, smiling like the dork you fell in love with. his mother rushes to sit you down by the table, ready to take care of you and you realise — seungmin's family will always be as accepting as he is. the fruit doesn't fall that far away from the tree, after all.

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

trust me, he's the reckless kind. he'll care for you, love for you and be there for you but he's so bad with dates and timings and everything that mistakes like this were bound to happen at one point. he's shifted to his own place and jeongin is so excited that he calls you over — "y/n, you must come here. even the bed is warm." and you know what that meant. the bane of every mankind's downfall and every civilization's achilles' hill. that is exactly how you ended up next to jeongin, his hands cupping your face and him kissing you like he has all the time in the world now that he has his own place. until the two of you hear the door click and jeongin pulls back, swearing and in panic. you hold his shoulder in worry and he's telling you that his parents were supposed to come over, today. that he didn't know it would be this early, however. and the only thing his oh-so-bright brain could come up with in that moment is to shove you and himself into the small closet till his parents leave. and even if it meant a few sweaty minutes in the closets in each other's warmth, moans and giggles in the air albeit the warning of silence, and jeongin kissing you in places the heavens shouldn't know, you'll happily brace it all for him. the two of you come out of the closet only after you hear the door shut again. the two of you walk down carefully to see if his parents are away, only to find a small yellow post it note stuck on the fridge — you should have told us you had someone over. you bury your face into his shoulders in embarassment as you ask, "they heard, didn't they?" he chuckles, "probably. we'll get you to officially meet then soon. my mum loves pies and you bake the best ones. she'll fall for you like i did. instantly."

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spine-buster · 3 years

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peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | four

A/N: This one is an emotional one. Please be prepared. Content warnings are below.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); parent death; swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock was wiping Grace’s tears as he stood in between her legs as she sat on the counter. She had come over to his house crying after an appointment at the hospital with her dad’s neurologist. There was no good update. There was no bad update. There was just an update. “Things are progressing at the rate they’ve always been progressing,” the doctor had told her. “We’ll see how long the pureed foods last. He’s been doing well with that, but as you know it will have to switch as some point to tube feedings.”

“I just want so much more time with him,” Grace cried into Brock’s shoulder, clinging to his body with every limb she had. Brock pulled her away slightly so he could look her in the eye and wipe the tears that were streaming down her face himself. “There was still so much he wanted to do. So much I wanted to do with him. He—he’s accepted his fate, but it also breaks his heart.”

Brock’s heart was heavy. He wrapped his arms around her again and held her close against his body, placing small reassuring kisses on her neck and whispering to her over and over again that everything would be okay. In reality, the both of them knew it wouldn’t be. Hamish was dying. He was dying a slow death. But both of them also knew it was exactly what Grace needed right now – to be held, to have her tears wiped away, to be told everything was going to be alright. It was one of the things she loved most about Brock, that he always knew what to do and what to say to her.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear tenderly.

“I love you too, Brock,” Grace whispered back. “I love you so much.”

As Brock stood in the kitchen with Grace’s limbs wrapped around him, he thought about his dad. He thought about Duke holding his hand as they watched football together. He thought about Duke sipping on water from a straw, angry that he couldn’t have a beer like his buddies around him (his buddies would eventually stop drinking beer in front of him). He thought about helping his dad get dressed, making his bed, helping him in and out of chairs or sofas. He thought about his dad with Coolie and Milo and how much he loved them.

Brock started crying too.

***

“You alright dad?” Grace asked as she gripped her father��s hand, watching him as he sat down on his bed in his brand new pajamas she bought him. He nodded his head before sitting. “Okay, let me help you with your legs.”

She bent down in front of him, seeing that he had already lifted them off the ground before she grabbed them gently and brought them on top of the bed. He shifted his own body further into the mattress, and she made sure to fluff up his pillows before he really set his head on them. “There you go,” she said, grabbing at the blanket bunched up at his feet. She brought it up and draped it over his body, making sure he was snug in his bed. She looked down at him once more. “Sleep tight, dad.”

He said nothing. Instead, he grabbed her hand. Grace looked down at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Why’re you so scared, sweetheart?”

Grace almost burst into tears right then and there. But she knew she had to stay strong for her dad, because he hated seeing her cry. He probably wouldn’t sleep for the night if she did. “I’m just scared for the day I’m going to wake up and you won’t be here anymore,” Grace admitted to him. Even though the doctor’s appointment didn’t necessarily bring her any good or bad news, these thoughts had been rampant in her mind ever since. She only ever expressed them to Brock. Sometimes to Svea. “I know the day has been coming since I was fourteen and I’m still not prepared for it.”

“You’re…a smart girl, Gracie,” he said. “Even with me gone…you will…still be able to do…everything that you want to. Dance. Have a family. Be a mom.”

Grace nodded her head. “I know I will. I just don’t know if it will be as special if you’re not here to see me do all that. Especially become a mom. Because you know how much I want to be a mom but it’s—you’d be the best grandpa.”

“I’ll be there. I’ll be watching.”

That’s what got her. Right then and there, Grace let out a sob, heavy and desperate and loud, like a hurricane had just swept through her body and had taken everything with it. She tried to stop but it was no use. And while she sat there on the edge of his bed sobbing, he pulled her down so her head was to his chest. “You need to…stop worrying, Gracie,” Hamish said. She could feel and hear his heart beating. “I’m still here…and still breathing. Don’t you worry.”

***

“D’you miss your parents?” Grace asked Svea one night when they were hanging out together at Elias’s apartment. They were alone in the den while Brock and Elias played video games, and Grace was looking at all the photos Svea had of her with her older sister and parents. There were a few of her and Elias too – that was a given – in Vancouver or when they were awkward looking teenagers. She got a kick out of those.

“Of course. Every day,” Svea nodded her head. “Do you miss your parents being together?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “They separated when I was so young – I barely remember them together. I remember the fighting more.”

Svea hated to hear that sort of thing. She knew Grace’s story, and Grace had talked to her about it before, but every time they did speak about it, Grace revealed just a little bit more about it. “That must have been hard for you – to see your parents fighting.”

“Not just see – I was involved in it half the time,” Grace revealed. “They would use me to get back at the other. They were young and stupid and had too much money, and it made things unnecessarily complicated. I think that’s why I want to become a mom so bad, you know? Because even though I know my parents loved me, I just want to give them a better childhood experience than what I had between my parents.”

“You want them to know mom and dad love each other,” Svea nodded.

“Exactly,” Grace stressed. “And I want, like, a big family. I want my kids to be able to have each other, you know? That whole time I was so alone. I had my friends at school but I never had a sibling. Nobody really understood.”

Svea could only imagine. It was at that moment she realized how lucky she was that she knew her parents loved each other. Love was complicated, yes, but they loved each other. Her mother moved from Vancouver to a tiny town in Sweden to be with her father – that was love. “I think you’ve found what you need in Brock, you know,” Svea said matter-of-factly.

“I know I have,” Grace nodded her head, smiling slightly. “I’m a very lucky girl.”

“He’s a very lucky guy,” Svea quipped.

Grace couldn’t help but giggle. “So is Elias,” she retorted, causing Svea to blush. “When the hell are you going to marry him, Svea? That boy is head over heels in love with you.”

Svea shook her head. “He’s my best friend, Grace.”

***

“I love you so much,” Grace whispered as Brock bent down to kiss her, his travel-day suit already on, and a beanie on his head covering the hair Grace loved so much. She loved running her fingers through it, especially while in bed, and the best part was that Brock loved her doing it too, so she did it all the time.

“I love you too,” Brock replied after the kiss. “What are you gonna get up to for these two weeks I’m not here?”

“A lot of masturbating while I think about you.”

Brock groaned, burying his head into the crook of her neck as she giggled. He bit down at the skin of her neck and she yelped. “You better fucking call me when you do,” he growled in her ear.

“I will.”

Brock gave her one last kiss before standing up straight again. “Say hello to your dad,” he said, even though he just saw him yesterday for their weekly Sunday Night Football watching. “Tell him I’m sorry about Sunday, but I’ll make it up to him when I win our Superbowl bet.”

Grace smiled. “He’ll be crushed if he loses that bet.”

“He better start preparing.”

***

“When are you gonna just kiss her?!” Brock was exasperated.

“Shut up,” Elias mumbled, still concentrating on his phone as he typed a message to Svea.

“Petey, no other girls exist in, like, your world besides Svea. Can you just get it fucking done already?”

“Brock, shut up.”

“Uuuuuuuuaaaaarrrrggghhhhh!” Brock groaned loudly as he and Elias walked through the front doors of their hotel. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Go right ahead.”

Brock rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything else, his phone began ringing from his pocket. It was after the game, and judging by their routine now, he knew it was Grace. He actually wondered if she was with Svea watching. “There you are. I was wondering when I’d get a call from you,” he said cheerily, not bothering with formalities.

He was met with silence on the other end. Then, a sniffle. She didn’t respond. He could hear her breathing and sniffling on the other end, but she wasn’t saying anything. “Grace?”

“Brock…he’s gone.”

Brock’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the foyer, the world standing still around him. He barely registered Elias stopping when he realized Brock wasn’t walking beside him anymore, and barely registered Elias looking over his shoulder with furrowed brows. “Grace—”

“We were at the hospital. He—he caught pneumonia somehow and it just—it just—”

“I’m on my way home right now,” Brock said quickly.

“Brock—”

“I’m gonna get on the first flight out to Vancouver, I promise you. I’m just at the hotel and I’m gonna pack and leave,” he explained.

“Please hurry,” her voice was desperate, full of sadness and grief.

“I’m on my way. I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Brock. Please hurry.”

When Brock hung up the phone, he finally noticed Elias staring at him. There were so, so many thoughts running through Brock’s mind – how he was going to tell Travis he wasn’t going to take the team charter flight home, how he was going to get to the airport, how he was going to get to Grace’s dad’s house or the hospital or wherever she was – but he was only able to verbalize one. “I need you to call Svea and tell her to get in touch with Grace.”

“What happened?” Elias asked.

“Her dad just died.”

Elias’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. But he immediately brought his phone up and swiped until he got Svea’s number. “Go,” he urged, bringing his phone up to his ear. “I’ll pack your things. I’ll bring your bag. Just grab your passport and go.”

***

Hamish’s viewing was busy. He was a well-known figure in Vancouver, and so Grace had to host two days’ worth of viewings, with timeslots in the afternoon and evening. Grace stood first, her two uncles (Hamish’s brothers and partners in the investment firm) Robbie and Owen Gillespie and their families after her. Eliza, James, Jasper, and Theo sat alone in the third row – obviously not part of the “line”, but there to support Grace. Hamish was Eliza’s ex-husband, after all, regardless of how nasty and bitter it got. And he was her daughter’s father. Brock sat alone in the second row, directly behind Grace. Elias and Svea, when they were there – which was most of the time – were beside him, attending to Grace’s every need.

The people wouldn’t stop coming. There was constantly a line to pay respects and then greet Grace, Robbie, and Owen. Brock could tell it was making Grace tired, greeting people she barely knew and shaking their hand and thanking them for their condolences. It didn’t help that it was in the newspaper and on the night-time news, too – however brief the mention of it was, it still made more people aware, and Brock was sure they showed up even though they probably hadn’t seen Grace or Hamish in years.

The funeral was even worse. Grace couldn’t stop crying. She said her eulogy, and it was beautiful, and Owen said one too, but after that it was just constant tears. After the church service, she clung to Brock, pulling him into the procession. At the entombment, her cries were loud and continual. Elias and Svea were crying at the final prayer before his casket was sealed.

Brock tried to be strong – for Grace, of course – but he cried, too.

***

It was a few days – almost a week, really – until Brock saw Grace again. There had to be meetings with lawyers and her uncles that Brock had no reason attending. The money was already hers – everything was basically just a formality, as he understood it, like an official transfer over – but Brock knew she didn’t care about the money. Grace wanted her dad.

Brock had barely sat down on the couch before she climbed onto his lap. Her lips immediately found his and her tongue immediately slipped into his throat. It was urgent. It was hasty. It was visceral, at least for Grace.

It was also wrong.

“Grace…” Brock mumbled, pulling away.

“Brock, c’mon,” she urged, continuing to kiss his strong jawline even though he turned away. “I need you. Touch me.”

“Grace—”

“Touch me,” she begged, grabbing his hands and leading them up her shirt.

“Grace, no,” he said sternly, pulling his hands away now too.

She furrowed her brows at him, an obvious look of anger on her face at his denial. Despite him knowing it was the right thing to do, Grace didn’t think so. “You don’t want me?” she asked in a harsh tone.

“You know I want you. I want you all the God damn time. But I’m not gonna do it when you’re…emotionally compromised,” he tried to reason with her, even though he knew it would be a futile attempt. “You don’t want this.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t. You just want to feel something right now.”

She looked at him indignantly. “Fuck you, Brock Boeser,” she growled as she lifted herself off of his lap, grabbing her purse and slamming his front door without saying another word.

***

There was a light knock at his door. Brock knew it could only be one person.

When he opened it, he knew Grace would be standing on the other side. What he wasn’t expecting was how she looked. Hair that looked that it hadn’t been washed since the last time she was over. Wearing clothes she’d obviously been wearing for days. Dark circles under her eyes, which were puffy and red like they hadn’t stopped crying. She looked defeat, frail, and crushed into a million different pieces Brock just wanted to pick up and piece together again.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of her mouth – practically squeaked out. He wondered if she had a voice left. Within seconds, he could see tears well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks like a flood. “I just…I miss his more than my heart knows how to handle.”

Brock engulfed her in a hug, and she cried and cried and cried.

***

“I was in the hospital with him…and he was weak, but he could still speak a bit, and move too. And I was holding his hand the entire time. And I just wanted to be in bed with him like when I was a kid and had a nightmare. And when I got in, I—well, when I was a kid, he’d hold me against his chest and I always remember how I could feel his heart beating, so I did that. And he held my hand and before he fell asleep, he said ‘I love you Gracie. I’ll be there. I’ll be watching.’ And then that was it.”

Brock felt a tear escape his eye. He let it fall as he began to shift his and Grace’s body’s so that he was lying on top of him, her head on his chest. He felt her hand clutch at his bare skin briefly, and a wetness on his chest he knew were tears. “Can you feel it?” he asked, referring to his heartbeat.

Grace nodded her head. “Stay like this, please.”

Brock didn’t move an inch the entire night.

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Chapter 12

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 9:06am

To: [email protected]

Subject: This weekend

Hey,

It was good to run into you yesterday. Your sister seems nice. Is she older or younger? I remember you said you had three siblings; where do you fall in there?

Let me know if you can come by this weekend. Priscilla promises to provide a better beverage selection this time. She was unimpressed with my hosting abilities.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 10:23am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:This weekend

Hi,

I was surprised to see you in Georgetown again, what brought you by? Not your drug dealer again, I presume (disclaimer to anyone reading this that it’s a joke). I’m the third of four; Missy is two years older than me. Our oldest brother is Bill and little brother is Charlie. Do you have other siblings, aside from the sister you told me about?

As for this weekend, I’m free in the evening on Saturday. I had the thought, though, that it’s perhaps not appropriate for us to be spending time alone at your apartment. Not that I think you have or would behave inappropriately in any way, just for propriety’s sake. Sorry if that seems old fashioned. Maybe we can get dinner? Send my regrets to Priscilla.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 4:45pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:This weekend

Given the later half of your email, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to admit that I went by that coffee shop hoping to see you there again. So let’s just say it was indeed to pay a visit to my dealer.

Nope, Samantha was my only sibling. Mom and Dad divorced after she disappeared. It was far from a Hallmark movie, but I turned out okay (I think).

Scully, if you don’t trust yourself around me behind closed doors, all you have to do is say so. Jokes aside, I can respect that. I actually have an idea of something we could do that is very public and not at all inappropriate. Will you trust me if I tell you it’s a surprise?

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 16, 1996 9:36am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:This weekend

I go by that coffee shop most Sundays, sometimes with my sister or mom, sometimes alone. I’m not sure what your dealer’s typical hours of operation are, but I tend to be there around noon. For future reference.

I’m sorry to hear about your parents. I would say you turned out pretty well, but then again I hardly know you.

I will trust you with a mystery public outing so long as you let me know what to dress for and also if there will be food involved. Something you should know about me; if you don’t feed me I turn into a Gremlin.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 17, 1996 8:56am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Hey, sorry I never got back to you yesterday. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say that criminal profilers are not immune to workplace drama.

As luck would have it, my dealer runs a blue light special at 11:30 am on Sundays, so I tend to be in the neighborhood around that time. A stunning coincidence.

I think you know me better than the vast majority of the people I interact with at this point, save for a select few. I’m not sure if that speaks as much to the fact that I like hanging out with you as it does to the fact that I don’t have many friends. My spooky reputation tends to scare people off, but I’m not exactly crying in my cornflakes over it.

I wouldn’t want you to turn into a Gremlin on me, so refreshments will be provided. Wear something you can move in, definitely not a dress or heels (it pains me to say this). Can I pick you up at 5:00?

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 17,1996 2:31pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Workplace drama knows no bounds. I’ve been getting the silent treatment from one of the other pathologists because I questioned whether they’d calibrated the scale before weighing internal organs.

I think you’re overestimating how well I know you, Mulder. I know next to nothing about you, outside your interest in the paranormal and a bit about your childhood.

I’m resisting the urge to ask what you have planned. Why don’t we meet somewhere? If you’re taking me UFO sighting...we better see a UFO is all I’m saying.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 18, 1996 9:10am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:The weekend

I want to make a comment on the fact that weighing internal organs is part of your job description, but I spent an hour today debating whether someone sticking pencils in their victim’s eyes is some kind of Freudian penis envy thing.

You know more about me than you think, Scully. You know I’m a cat person, and that I have terrible taste in beer. Also that I like Radiohead and am not beneath asking a woman out while she’s trying to do her job. I’ll offer you a bonus fact, or more accurately a confession: I didn’t really need to come down to Quantico last week when we had coffee. I just wanted to get coffee with you. Don’t tell my boss.

Now you have to tell me something about yourself. It’s only fair.

If there were any good places to spot UFOs around here, I’d take you in a heartbeat. If you’re ever up for a road trip out west, let me know. Washington State is a hotbed of UFO activity. Plus they have really good coffee.

Can you meet me at the Hoover building? I’ll drive us from there.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 18, 1996 1:19pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

So what was the verdict on the pencil/penis eyeball situation? Fruedian or no?

I’m touched that you’d go so far as insubordination to have coffee with me, however I hope you won’t make a habit of it. Next time you come down here I’ll have to email your boss and ask him if you got permission to come out and play.

Something about me...I like to read a lot. I think I’d say Jane Eyre is my favorite book of all time (not that you asked). I’m also addicted to bubble baths. Actually, reading Jane Eyre IN a bubble bath is pretty much my idea of heaven (ideally with a glass of wine).

I’ve been to Seattle once. Too much rain, though it was very green and pretty. Isn’t that where Bigfoot lives?

I’ll meet you at the Hoover building on Saturday at 5, wearing my very best ball gown and stiletto heels.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 8:13am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

No verdict will be reached unless and until we catch the guy and have occasion to ask him if he was using his pencils as...pencils. Profiles are all theory, which can be both interesting and frustrating.

I wouldn’t advise you to contact my AD, he’s kind of a dick. I’ll ask him to write a note excusing me from work next time.

Jane Eyre? I wouldn’t have expected that from you. It’s a very romantic book, and entirely centered around two people who never should have worked as a couple coming together despite numerous obstacles. Is that something you’re into?

You get 95 points for knowing that Bigfoot lives in Washington (you lost 5 for calling him Bigfoot; he’s known as Sasquatch out there). My dream vacation is lurking around the forests of the Pacific Northwest, Squatchin’.

It’s a date.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 3:46pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Don’t ruin my favorite book by overanalyzing it, Mulder. If you’d like to trash Wuthering Heights, be my guest. I pledge my allegiance to Charlotte.

Your dream vacation sounds like it might end in death from exposure, or perhaps a good old fashioned bear mauling, but who am I to tell you how to spend your paid leave?

See you tomorrow, at 5. And it’s not a date.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 6:55pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

I would always rather be happy than dignified.

(A little Charlotte to arrive to on Monday)

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xfiles #alternate universe

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cloudy-leonhart · 3 years

Text

Marleyan Warriors with a Filipino S/O!!

[Author Note: this is literally a re-do of my headcanons bc tumblr’s being mean and deleting my drafts, anyways trying to rush another finished bc outta here 😭 also! Reminder that my requests are OPEN, don’t be afraid to send in any requests!!]

Summary: Marleyan Warriors with a Pinoy S/O!

Recommended Song: Titibo-Tibo by Moira Dela Torre

TW: Swearing.

Theme: Fluff, Modern AU.

Characters: Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Zeke, Pieck, Porco.

Annie Leonhart

Annie knew, she actually met you at an event for those with cultures, and saw you dancing with your friends to traditional filipino folk music.

She was kinda hesitant to go when you asked her to accompany you to the Philippines, she didn’t like traveling.

She was kinda shocked on how welcoming your family was, your mom and dad hugged her out of nowhere and she just let out a squeak.

Your little sister forced her to go to SM mall with her omg- She literally came home with bags of candy.

Yes, Annie has a soft spot for your family, she probably almost spent all her money on them.

Buchi rivals her love for donuts. She looked like she discovered a new universe after eating one of them thangs.

God, help her when she’s watching filipino movies, your family encouraged her to watch movies with them, and by the end of it she was a mess, pretty sure she cried into your shoulder after watching Seven Sundays.

BUT LIKE SHE ENDS UP BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR PARENTS.

You see, Annie is a really fast learner, she was bound to learn to be able to speak some point in her stay.

You were shocked when she spoke back to you in tagalog, like ‘dropped my stuff out of shock’ kinda way.

IT WAS A PAIN GETTING HER INTO A BARO’T SAYA. But bribing her with Buchis got her to keep it on for like 2 hours so like..good enough.

Her favourite filipino song is Porque.

Everybody acts like it’s a concert for every karaoke night because she’s there, like she’s just THAT good.

Reiner Braun

This man was so awkward. He went on a trip with Bertholdt to the Philippines, and met you.

He didn’t think you would understand him, so he just stared at you while you talked with your friends, until you were creeped out enough and asked him if he had a problem.

When you and him started dating, you convinced him to travel all around the country.

Firstly, you guys visited your family, your dad absolutely loved him, your mom was a little bit hesitant in letting him in the family, he was blonde, big and buff. Filipinos are bound to worry. Until Reiner cooked with her, then she started to warm up to him.

Okay but why did your family’s chickens like him so much??

He likes the feeling of being around your family, him not having a dad left an impact on him and he felt complete being with you and your family, he swore to himself that he’d marry you.

He almost fainted when he found you battling with one of the kids with your pet spider, mf was deathly afraid of your spider, it was like the size of your hand pls-

I think he’d be fairly good at speaking tagalog, he’s got an accent but people can understand him.

He eats like a tito omg- You lost him at a party once and when you found him, he’s already eaten half of the barbecue.

Everyone thought he was really old, because of his beard so everyone called him tito Reiner.

He’s somewhat good with the village kids, you could see Reiner playing soccer with the kids or goofing off.

He says he doesn’t like watching Manny Pacquiao but it’s his guilty pressure.

He doesn’t really listen or watch anything filipino, but he will listen to old filipino bands if you play them in his car.

Bertholdt Hoover

HAHA PLs- you got mad at him for eating your cake and started cursing in filipino. He was confused because he thought you were just blurting out nonsense.

One second you’re explaining what you were saying and the next second y’all are on the way to the Philippines.

He sweats like a waterfall, LITERALLY. Everyone would like move away because he sweated that much.

You had a private island..because y’all were RICH rich. he was kinda awestruck, you literally just said out of nowhere.

“oh yeah, we have a private island.” ‘YOU HAVE A FUCKING WHAT??”

Poor baby was kinda intimidated by your basket-ball player of a brother, he was taller than Bertholdt omg-

You’re always worrying him somehow, he’s be on the toilet and he’d just hear you scream and he comes running down with his boxers, just to see you watching a telenovela and you had to tell him that you were just gushing over the drama.

He has never felt so embarrassed.

Am I the only one who thinks he looks amazing in a Barong?? Like he’d rock that shit-

He loves eating filipino food, he likes when you guys stay in the country and you go out to buy bread at the nearest bakery.

Like every filipino, he too, dips his bread in coffee.

He ended up learning guitar while he’s in the Philippines, the country’s filled with people who can sing amazingly, he’s bound to learn guitar.

His favourite filipino song to play is Tadhana, it’s also the only song that he knows to sing to, like he absolutely butchers pronunciation for words but this man covers it up with this song.

Zeke Jaeger

He bumped into you and you cursed at him in tagalog, he basically just fell for you at that point.

I just know your family secretly hates this man, he slapped your ass once around your mom and your dad, it’s always tense when he’s around now.

You don’t have the heart to tell him your parents saw because one afternoon, he was gushing and praising your family, you didn’t want to ruin his happiness, his dad’s barely around and his mom passed away. he’d obviously be attached.

Yes you had to talk to your parents about it, a lot of filipinos are very kinds and forgiving, so your parents were very understanding, and made sure he felt loved around the family.

He actually almost cried when your dad told him to marry you already.

He calls your parents nanay and tatay.

You got him to buy a pet spider please- You would catch him fighting a kid’s spider to the death in a match, he’d feel bad though so he buys them new ones after.

Hey this man looks so hot in a Barong, please. You guys had to book a hotel for a night for some alone time yk.

Lord help this man, he tried to do the tinikling dance and he tripped, in front of everyone.

Every night, he comes to bed all shirtless, you could just hear the air conditioner buzzing as he tells you how fun it was playing with the village kids, or talking about he and your titos had a drink while watching a boxing match.

He more so listens to various artists, he doesn’t have a favourite.

but he will replay Joseph Vincent’s filipino covers.

Pieck Finger

She was on a business trip in the Philippines, and you were coincidentally at the same bar they were celebrating at. You were by the karaoke section and she kinda just, fell in love with you. right there and then.

Honestly some people thought you guys were siblings, Pieck can be mistaken as a filipino easily so, you guys expect it from time to time.

She likes to ask from time to time to teach her guitar, your mom probably has a lot of pictures of you and Pieck.

She loves eating the food in the Philippines, she thinks the adobo is great and if you lose her in public she’s probably by a street vendor eating food.

You guys dance to old filipino songs, a replaying song for you guys is Mabagal by Daniel Padillia and Moira Dela Torre.

She learnt Moira’s Part while you had Daniel’s part.

GUys she looks so beautiful in a Baro’t Saya. And she knows it, she flaunts it so well.

You guys probably have a vacation house in the Philippines after leaving with her to go back to her country.

She helps you with packing balikbayan boxes for your family, she makes handwritten letters, she’s both good at writing and saying anything in tagalog.

Her favourite artist is definitely Moira Dela Torre, she just loves her airy voice.

Favourite Filipino Movie? Yes.

You cannot tell me she doesn’t have a shelf full of filipino movies you guys watch.

Her favourite street food is probably qwek-qwek. She likes the sauce she dips, and she probably bought almost twenty bucks worth of the fishballs.

Porco Galliard

UGh honestly he’s a little cringey when it comes to the culture, for some reason I can see him accidentally disrespecting it somehow, I can’t help it.

Your family owned a sari-sari store, and he could not help for the love of him, he ended up being the one stocking it up while you chatted with the customers.

Like Pieck, he and you dance when you’re alone, he probably learnt from Pieck too.

He listens to modern filipino artists, like Ex Battalion, Skusta Clee.

He tries hard to really be respectful, he butchers the way he says nanay and tatay but your parents appreciate the effort.

I can see him being able to secretly make amazing filipino desserts, his ube cake is bomb.

He watches Basketball with your dad, and they both drink during the match.

I can also see him being the type to scream out curses when he hurts himself, a ‘PUNYETA’ comes out of his mouth.

he doesn’t enjoy the hot weather in the Philippines, and due to that, he wears sandos all the time at home, and when he goes out, every girl always looks at him because he’s ripped, yes you’re jealous, but as you should, he’s your mans-

He also knows how use a barbecue grill? You can find him helping your family members while they’re selling barbecue.

he hates going to SM?? He just really hates going, because you genuinely just go for the food court. They sell hella good food.

One time he got chased by the village dogs, so he doesn’t go out without you or a family member.

He secretly loves watching telenovelas with you.

135 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 3 years

Note

Can you write more of the Nessian modern au where they have 5 kids plz?

Prompt ideas:

They go camping

Ezra goes on his first date

One of the kids (probably like Cal or Celia) feels like their parents done love them as much as they love the others / that they don’t get as much attention as they others

Obv u don’t need to use any of these prompts if u don’t want to, these are just some ideas

I loved your fic !!!

I Love You

Set in this universe, Nessian fourth child feels like she’s isn’t given the same amount of love her parents are showing her siblings and after a particularly bad day goes by, she bursts.

A/N: The ages: Ezra (23), Cal (19), Nora (14), Celia (12) and Andra (10). Nate is (18) and Iria (Emerie and Azriel’s firstborn) is (13).

It was hard to write this one, cause if one of my children came to me like this, telling me what Celia is going to say, I would probably kill myself you know. Hate these situations:(

Also, I’m definitely gonna write the other two too, cause they’re interesting and I think you all want to read about Ezra’s first date. So don’t worry, we’ll see them camping and struggling with love some more!

Enjoy!

Word count: 4,370

"Cal, can you help me with my homework?" asked Celia as she entered the boys room.

Her brother didn't even spare her a glance, waving a hand in mid-air, "I can't right now Cece, I'm playing with Nate and I can't pause, sorry." then burst out laughing at something his cousin had said to him through his earbuds. He cast her a quick glance over his shoulder, "Maybe when I finish."

The girl huffed, muttering a don't worry and closed the door behind her. She walked down the hallway, towards her room and Nora's. She didn't bother knocking, but froze in the doorway, staring at her sister with hopeful eyes. She knew she wouldn't find help there either when she heard her say Iria's name into the phone's microphone.

She could feel that she might be about to let out a scream of frustration.

She was about to leave the room when Nora noticed her, "Iria wait a second," she put a hand on the phone, smiling at Celia, "Do you want anything? I can leave the room if you need to study in silence," she offered her.

Celia shook her head, "I can't do this geometry problem." she said furrowing her brow as she looked at the strange figure on the sheet her math teacher had assigned her. She looked up at Nora and she had a bored look on her face. Celia had confirmation of what she had thought as soon as she walked in. Before her sister could find an excuse to escape that task, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll do it myself."

Nora didn't even try to retort and resumed talking to her cousin, yelling at Celia to close the door when she left.

"Yeah, I'll close the door for you," she muttered to herself.

She didn't want to go to her mom and ask for help with her homework because she knew it would end with one of them yelling, but she had no other choice. Huffing for the millionth time, she headed downstairs, mentally ready to face an intense math session with her mom.

When she entered the kitchen, Nesta was leaning on her chair with her knees and half lying on the table, holding a yellow pencil and coloring one of the suns on Andra's exercise book.

Her sister was the first to see her, "Hi." she said in a flat tone.

Celia snickered, thinking "we're in the same boat sis". Doing homework with mom had always been tiring, whether it was math to solve or simple drawings to color, Nesta had the ability to squeeze their little brains to their last nerve.

Cassian had always told them that one day they would thank her, but Celia hadn't reached that moment yet. She was sure Ezra, who was finishing college, hadn't thanked her yet either for making him maintain that level of consistency in his studies.

"Mom," she called hesitantly, "could you help me with this problem?"

Andra glared at her, frowning, "She's helping me."

Celia knew she didn't mean it in a bad way, she knew she was probably just as tired as she was at that moment. After all, it was seven o'clock on a Sunday night for everyone, and if Andra had found herself finishing studying so late too, it was because she too had been given too much homework. She ignored her, waiting for Nesta to speak.

When he didn't answer her, Celia pushed with more annoyance in her voice, "Mom."

Nesta's head snapped toward her, and even this time, Celia knew the answer would be no. The weariness clear in her features. Nesta closed her eyes, scratching a temple with the tip of her pencil, "Can't you ask one of your siblings?"

"Nora and Cal are busy," she let her know, "I don't know where Ezra is."

Andra pointed her to the back door, "He's out with Dad, they're working in the gazebo."

Celia nodded, "Thank you." Nesta gave her a tired smile and then went back to coloring in the sun.

She clutched the book and notebook to her chest as she pushed the door open and the cold outside made her shiver. She could hear the hoarse laughter and low voices of her dad and brother, but she couldn't see them anywhere.

She stepped barefoot into the grass and wiggled her fingers through the blades of grass and then there was silence and Celia was suddenly afraid. If she turned around she could see Nesta and Andra at the table, but in front of her there was only darkness and silence, until a loud bang came from the gazebo and then she heard Cassian cursing, before Ezra burst out laughing.

She grinned, tiptoeing towards the two men.

As soon as she moved the curtain that was the door to the gazebo, a dart flew past her head and she jumped back, eyes wide. She felt her heart in her throat.

"Celia!" had shouted Ezra, sprinting toward her. His eyes, too, were full of fear and he had grabbed her by the arms. Cassian immediately behind him stroked her hair, checking to make sure he hadn't poked her in the face. They both let go a breath of relief when they saw that she was okay.

"Cutie you have to be careful when you come in here, you know that," her dad told her with a carefree smile on his face, "If I caught you, mommy would skin me alive."

All three cackled, Ezra pulling himself up and removing the darts from the board.

"Did you need anything?" asked Cassian.

Celia nodded, remembering the real reason she had gone there, "I can't do this problem-" she started to open the notebook, but Ezra interrupted her.

"Dad and I are just finishing up fixing this actually," he told her with a apologetic grimace, "Could you wait a half hour?"

Celia looked at Cassian hopefully, but her dad was already back handling tools and nails.

She turned to her brother, "But you were playing darts." she said impassively.

Ezra shrugged, "We were just taking a few minutes off, we've been working for hours." then turned to Dad, "Where's the wire?"

Cassian pointed to a spot on the other side of the gazebo and Celia took that gesture as her cue to leave them alone again.

"Nevermind." she whispered, closing the notebook and leaving the gazebo.

She eyed the table at which they ate breakfast every summer morning, thinking that if she started studying there maybe she would die of hypothermia and finally someone would deign to help her. Laughing at how extra she could be at times, she walked back into the house, passing her mom and Andra in silence and heading back to Cal's room. She was going to wait for him to finish the game and then force him to solve the problem for her.

She threw open the door and Cal let out a shriek, startling her.

"God, Cece you scared the shit out of me." he breathed, bringing a hand to his chest, finishing pulling on his pants.

Celia furrowed her brow, "Weren't you playing with Nate?"

Cal nodded absentmindedly, looking around, "See my wallet?"

She pointed it out to him. "Where are you going? You said you'd help me," she said in a whiny tone.

"I said maybe," he smiled slyly at her, "and Raina called me and I'm spending the night at her place." with that he turned and opened the drawer, pulling out two aluminum foil envelopes. As soon as Celia realized what they were, she brought her hands to her eyes.

"Gee," she sighed, then turned around shaking her head, "I didn't need to see that."

Without looking at him, she raised a hand, smiling tightly at the empty space in front of her, "See you tomorrow, have fun."

Cal chuckled as he walked past her and darted down the stairs, "Sure will. See you tomorrow."

Celia shook her head again and then again, trying to erase the image of- she walked back down the hall, opening up the door to her room.

Nora in a completely different position was still talking on the phone and when she saw her she rolled her eyes, telling Iria to wait yet again. She turned on her stomach, raising an eyebrow, "What is it?"

Why is everyone so grumpy today?

Celia was fed up with that attitude and raised her arms to the sky, "Nothing, whatever."

Then they stared at each other for a few seconds and Nora nodded her chin, "Could you please go out? I'm talking to Iria on the phone and-"

"This is my room, too," Celia retorted, pointing out the obvious.

Nora huffed, leaning her head back, "Yes and I'm asking if I can please talk to our cousin in private."

Celia was getting even more nervous. "If you would help me with this problem I could go mind my own business in the living room and I wouldn't have to bother you every five minutes anymore."

Nora stood up, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out of the room, "I'll help you when I'm done talking on the phone."

Celia didn't even have time to realize that her sister had literally just thrown her out of the room that the door behind her had already been closed. She wanted to go back in and throw herself at Nora and work it out the way they used to work it out when they were kids, when they could still hit each other if they fought - not that their parents ever let them go beyond the first slap or hair pull.

She walked into the bathroom in the middle of their rooms to see where Cassian and Ezra stood, but from the second floor it was impossible to see inside the gazebo.

She went to Andra's room so she wouldn't risk running into condom wrappers and having to breathe the testosterone-smelling air of her brothers' room and sat down on the bed. She opened the notebook on her lap, rereading the problem statement aloud.

"A rectangular parallelepiped has basic dimensions that measure-" then she stopped.

It was pointless. She couldn't figure out what formulas to apply to calculate what was asked of her in the fourth question. Rereading the text wasn't going to help.

She brought her hands to her hair.

Why is this so hard?

She heard Nora laughing down the hall and felt anger sizzle under her skin.

Ever since she'd gotten the phone for her fourteenth birthday, there hadn't been a night that was one in which she hadn't called Iria. And it had only been a few months since she'd started high school, but Celia didn't understand how those two things had managed to change her sister like that.

She knew Nora still cared about her, but it was getting harder and harder to spend time with her, and Cal was always out with Raina and the twins and it was possible that she didn't see him for days at a time. Although that last part had become an occurrence in recent years.

Nesta had explained to her that it was normal, that they were just growing up and there was nothing to worry about, that they'd get closer once she got older too, but it had hurt Celia to lose Cal in many ways and now she was just scared that the same thing would happen with Nora.

She had nothing against spending her free time with Andra, but she was still little and still liked to play with dolls and Celia would rather hang herself than pretend to be a Doctor Peluche one more time.

She chuckled again this time, imagining herself announcing her death to her parents after her little sister asked her to play.

Then she heard Andra scream with happiness and run up the stairs. She was just in time to get out of the bed and out of the room that her sister was at the top of the stairs.

"I finished my homework!" she yelled, balling up her fists in the air.

Celia smiled at her, "Great."

Then Andra sagged, "Now I'm going to go take a victory nap."

"You've earned it." she walked past her as she yawned and headed down the stairs two steps at a time.

"Mom!" she called skipping the last three, "Can you help me now?"

Nesta made a frustrated sound, turning to her with a bag of frozen green beans in her hand.

"I just finished with Andra, is there any way we could think about this after dinner?"

Celia was about to start crying, but nodded anyway. She went into the living room when her mom resumed cooking, turning on the TV and putting on a channel where they showed how food is made.

When her dad and Ezra came back into the house they were so dirty that Nesta sent them straight to get washed up with the threat of not letting them sit down if they didn't smell flowery and clean.

Celia would have gone along with her mom, adding a sassy retort to make it even more dramatic, but at that moment she couldn't speak.

Cassian had passed behind the couch to go to the bathroom and shower, ruffling her hair and leaving a kiss on her head.

Even there, Celia didn't respond or say any "I love you too" back.

She didn't realize until a few minutes later that she wasn't really watching the show, and when she felt she was about to start crying - from too much accumulated stress and frustration throughout the day - she decided she needed to find a place where she could blow off steam.

Her room was apparently off-limits, Andra's was occupied and she couldn't hide in either her parents' or her brothers' room because both Ezra and her dad would go there to get dressed after their showers.

This only added to all the bad things of the day and on top of all the crap, she knew her mom was going to go to sleep right after dinner. When Nesta was this tired there was no way she was going to be able to stay up a minute longer and even if she could convince her it would just be hell.

Doing math with a calm and rested Nesta was already a nightmare on its own, she didn't want to think about what it would be like to do it with a cranky and tired Nesta.

She silently opened the door that led into the tavern, where the brothers normally spent their Saturday nights with their cousins and friends. The girls still weren't allowed to go down there when everyone was there, and Celia was looking forward to high school so she would get a free pass to attend their nights.

That is, if they would accept her.

She closed the door carefully behind her and ran down the stairs, turning on the light first.

She threw herself on the couch and then hugged her legs, sobbing once. And then again and again until a liberating cry was wracking her body.

She didn't know if it was just the math assignment she couldn't do or if it bothered her to see how much everyone didn't need her at that moment. Andra had mom and Ezra had dad and Nora and Cal had their respective friends and Celia… she felt so lonely right then.

She sobbed particularly loudly and clamped her mouth shut with her hand when she heard her father's footsteps pass by the tavern door. She didn't want him to hear her, it would worry him for nothing.

Yes, it was just because she couldn't get a stupid math problem right. She was overreacting.

She didn't need her parents. Or her brothers.

Or her sister for that matter.

She was sure all of her classmates were getting the exercise done.

She loosened her arms from around her legs and lay down on the couch, closing her eyes and clutching one of the pillows to her chest. It had a vague earthy smell to it, but it smelled like Cal too, and it angered the girl even more as she grabbed a corner of the pillow and threw it across the room, yelling not too loudly.

She didn't know how long she'd been down there, but when Nesta called the family to let them know dinner was ready, Celia sprang to her feet. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and ran them over her face to remove the residue of the crying in frantic movements.

She took three deep breaths and then walked slowly up the stair

s. She opened the door just as Ezra walked into the living room and their eyes met.

She immediately lowered her head, so he wouldn't see her face, but her brother put a hand on her shoulder, "Lia..." the silent request to look at him clear as day.

"What?" she replied too surly. She cursed in her head when she noticed her brother stiffen. It was as if she could see his surprised expression.

So much for playing dumb.

"Are you okay?" he asked, then squeezed her shoulder, "Why were you downstairs?"

She moved to escape his grasp, then ran a hand over her face, huffing, "I was looking for something." she replied evasively, trying to make her way to the kitchen. Ezra grabbed her wrist, spinning her around, at which point Celia was forced to look at him.

Ezra had a conflicted expression, somewhere between angry and worried, "What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, in a tone that didn't allow for a non-answer.

Celia remained silent, her brows knitted in a frown as she tried to swallow the knot that was forming in her throat.

Perhaps he had spoken too loudly, because Cassian's figure appeared in the kitchen doorway, "Who's crying?"

Celia looked towards her dad and it only took a second of seeing him for the crying to return, only harder.

Cassian's face turned completely as he moved Ezra from in front of his daughter and hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Celia wrapped her arms around her father's neck, hiding her face between the crook of his neck and his shoulder, and only sobbed louder as Cassian's hand began massaging her back in circular motions.

She didn't care if she would be thirteen in a few weeks. She didn't care that her father was rocking her like he used to when she was little, she just wanted him to hold her close.

She wrapped her legs around her dad's waist and heard Cassian take a shaky breath, "Ezra why don't you go ahead? We'll be right there."

Celia didn't see or hear her brother's response, but she was grateful to her dad when he moved to the couch, settling down and bringing her to him. She pressed herself tighter against him.

"Lia, what happened?" he whispered in her ear. This only made her sob more loudly, "Ssh, cutie," he murmured as the little girl's breathing became more erratic, "It's okay."

"Celia." her mom's voice made her sit up and Nesta was there, who with only a few steps was behind the couch. She'd seen Andra and Nora's heads pop up from the kitchen as well, but Ezra had called them back and they were gone immediately.

Nesta took a seat next to Cassian, her arms outstretched toward her daughter, but her gaze fixed on her husband's. Celia launched herself at her mother, but kept an arm around her father's neck and Cassian took her hand, squeezing it in his.

The child's tears had soaked his pajama shirt and Nesta's chest tightened. She brushed Celia's hair until she had a clear view of her daughter's face, "What's wrong?"

"I have-" she sobbed, "I had to solve a problem and I couldn't and no one-" every breath she tried to take was broken by a sob. She sniffled, "And then Nora kicked me out of the room and Cal- Cal didn't want to help me and he left and you were-" she ran the hand that wasn't clasped in Cassian's over her face, "You were helping Andra." then she turned to her dad and started crying again, "And then you and Ezra sent me away."

Nesta felt tremendous guilt and was about to apologize to her, for ignoring her, but then Celia said something that completely broke her heart.

"You don't love me like you do the others," she sobbed into her mom's chest.

"Oh, Lia." murmured Cassian, in a hurt tone. He slipped a hand between Nesta and his daughter's stomach and pulled her away from her mother, forcing the woman's arms off Celia.

Cassian sat her back down on his lap and looked into her eyes, leaning down just enough to be at the same height as her. His brow was furrowed and she could see how upset those few words had made him.

"That's absolutely not true." he whispered in a firm tone, watching the redness of his little girl's face, the tears that continued to fall undisturbed.

Nesta stroked her hair, "Your father is right." she added.

"You are all on exactly the same level. There's no such thing as loving one child more than the other," he repeated, "It's not possible."

Celia took more shaky breaths, struggling to speak, "Cal and Nora hate me now."

Nesta felt bad for her little girl. She didn't dare imagine how long she had kept those doubts to herself, couldn't imagine how she could think those things. How she had let one of her children feel that way without even noticing.

"Cal could never hate you and you know it. He loves you too much. Exactly like me and Mom and Nora too, even though it might not seem like it." said Cassian. Then he ran a thumb under her eyes, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry if we made you feel left out today, that wasn't our intention, okay?"

Celia nodded, but resumed crying.

"We're a family, we all love each other so much, but we're also numerous," Nesta tried to explain, "It may happen sometimes that no one is available to help you at that moment, but that doesn't mean they don't love you or care about you less than the day before."

Cassian squeezed her hips, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked her, later clarifying, "That you were feeling this way."

Celia shrugged, resting her hands on her daddy's chest, just as she did when she was little.

"I don't want it to get to a point where you can't hold back anymore and you have to hide to cry, okay?" said Cassian to her. Nesta looked at him and saw that his eyes were glazed over. She placed a hand on his leg, but the man's attention didn't shift from his daughter's face. "If you feel that Mama and I and anyone in this house are misbehaving with you, you come tell us and we'll talk about it, without the need to yell at each other and fight." he gave her a hesitant smile. Then he wrapped her up and pulled her against him, kissing her temple, "Please don't think I love you any less just because I'm a stupid, clueless big man who can't manage his time optimally, okay?"

Celia nodded against his neck, starting to play with the end of his hair strands.

"And I'm sorry if I made you think that for even a second," he closed his eyes as he whispered those words to her.

"I love you dad." said Celia in a muffled voice.

Cassian held her tighter to his chest, "I love you cutie."

Nesta cleared her throat, laying a hand on her daughter's back, "I'm sorry if I didn't pay enough attention to you today too and if I sent you out of the kitchen," she murmured, urging her to look at her. Celia broke away from Cassian, getting off his lap and launching herself at her mother, who caught her and stifled a laugh at the sudden weight.

God, she was growing up so fast, too.

"I love you, Lia." she whispered to her, "Don't ever doubt that, please."

"I love you mom."

They stayed rocking their baby girl for a few more minutes, then Cassian made a joke about the food that was getting cold in their plates, and all three of them got up from the couch and walked into a particularly quiet kitchen.

Nesta took a seat next to Andra and kissed her forehead as she took a green bean from the serving plate with her small hand.

Cassian glanced at all his children present and blew out a cough, "Maybe we should talk about eavesdropping as well."

Ezra turned to Celia, who was wiping her face with her napkin despite the fact that it was already dry, "Sorry for making you feel that way." he smiled at her, "I love you."

Celia nodded, focusing on her food.

"I want to apologize too," Nora said more softly, playing with the edge of the tablecloth. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the room like that, and if you want to later I'll help you with the problem."

Her sister looked at her and opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "I would love to."

"Sorry." said Andra, with a rather cute frown on her face. She probably didn't quite understand what had happened, but Celia appreciated either way. Even as she gave her the widest smile as she said, "I love you."

Celia looked at everyone at the table, swallowing noisily, "I love you."

She would talk to Cal another time.

They ate between jokes and pranks and after dinner they all jumped on their parents' bed, cuddling until they all fell asleep there. Cassian and Nesta were forced to give up their room for the night, taking refuge in the guest room instead, but not before showing their children how much infinite love they felt for each of them.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth @simping4bookboisngrls @anne-reads

#TSOU nessian fic #TSOU #the seven of us #nessian fic #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #fluff #angst #ff #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nessian baby #nessian child #nessian children

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amandadeibert · 3 years

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A Love Letter to Parents At the End of The Most Difficult School Year EVER

WOW, that was really something, huh?

It’s the end of the most difficult year school for all of us: teachers, parents, students… Hell, probably even the neighbors of parents and students. I would say “at least we survived!” but this has been more than a year of illness and mental health crises… not all of us did. Some of you are mourning those loses. I am so sorry.

As my daughter celebrates her final day of Kindergarten, and I celebrate my final day of supervising hours of zooms and packets full of work, of being her mother, teacher, confidant, chef, maid, PE teacher, and playmate… I have a lot of emotions. I’m sure you do too.

It was hard for those of us who, like my family, spent the entire year in virtual school: never meeting teachers or classmates in person. Those of us who spent so much of the year trying not to worry about excessive screen time while going against our intuition to coax children to sit up and pay attention to their computers.

It was difficult for families who did hybrid and had their bits of in-person “normalcy” sporadicly and suddenly turned to quarantines every time there was an exposure so that there could never be a true routine.

It was complicated for parents navigating this with multiple children who all needed different things at the same time. I know in my daughter’s own little kindergarten class we over-heard older siblings’ music lessons, younger siblings’ infant-wails, and parents trying to deal with their work zooms while 6 year olds struggled to concentrate on learning to read.

My heart especially goes out to the parents of children who need extra attention or services, some of whom lost out on months or a year of in-person therapies. This is unfair and horrible. This has been infuriating, unfair, and horrible. You have been dealing with far more worries than you should have had to and I am so sorry.

And then there’s work… whew. As a working mother who went to work in person in full PPE, then worked from home with endless Zoom meetings while my daughter put Elsa stick-on earrings all over my face, and then who lost my job due to pandemic related situations. I know it was difficult to work and teach and parent and be a child’s only friend and entertainment.

For those of you who are essential, for those of you who work in healthcare and mental healthcare… I just, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I admire you and also know my admiration doesn’t do a fucking ounce of good to help alleviate all you’ve had to juggle and endure.

So much has fallen disproportionality on mothers. We can see it in hard data. This will have ramifications for years to come. Just as it will on our kids… in ways we don’t even fully understand yet. Just while trying to write this essay…. my daughter and our kitten have crawled into my lap. They are both here right now.

And yes, I know plenty of amazing Dads who have been struggling right there with us. My dad-friends and I have leaned on each other TREMENDOUSLY this year, so please don’t think I don’t see you out there struggling through this too.

As I look back over this past school year (and the end of the academic year before) I am feeling sad for the milestones my child didn’t get to have. The things we didn’t experience as planned. The fond farewell to her preschool of 3 years we never had. The kindergarten teacher she never met in person. The first year at an elementary school where we haven’t yet been inside the building. I have so much dread for the coming separation anxiety after more than a year of never being apart. Hers and mine. This was not how things were supposed to be. No matter how you’ve experienced the pandemic, because we’re all doing it differently… this was not what we “planned.” It’s also not something anyone else alive has ever had to deal with before.

I want to stress that again:

No parent alive has ever dealt with anything like this. No one alive has experienced anything like this as a child. Bad things? Yes. Worse thing? Yes, even. But not THIS.

So if your parents/elders are giving unhelpful “advice” about how you should/should have handled things please remember THEY HAVE NO IDEA. None. At all.

This is one area where you can laugh and laugh and be like… “YOU HAD OPEN PARKS AND SCHOOLS AND KIDS COULD GO RIDE THEIR BIKES UNRESTRICTED. YOU COULD GO SIT IN CHURCH AND THE KIDS WOULD BE IN SUNDAY SCHOOL. YOU CAN NOPE RIGHT OFF.” Love them. Love their advice, but they don’t actually know what it is like.

I hope they are offering love and support. I don’t have living parents, but my grandmother is the first to say that even as a stay at home mom whose husband was away fighting a war, she can’t imagine being unable to simply take her kids to school or to run errands, or to let them play with other children. Her situation was very difficult and complicated. I don’t have it worse. Not at all. It’s just that this school year has been one hell of a weird one.

There have been bright spots. I loved getting to watch and experience my daughter learning in real time. Seeing the day-to-day progress and truly knowing what is going on in her classes. Again, that isn’t the experience for parents who have children unable to access their child’s IEP help in the way they should.

I love the extra time we’ve gotten together as a family. The movie nights outside and snuggles and lack of rushing around from place to place. I enjoy as an Angeleno not being stuck in traffic for hours. Not everyone has been able to work from home like my wife and I have mostly been able to do for much of this and I am grateful for that too.

My hope is that when this is truly over, when we get back to whatever new life looks like in the next school year, that some of the good will stay. That I will be more involved in our child’s education than maybe I would have been before because I know what it looks like. That we will spend more time as a family together just us. That I won’t say “yes” to things out of obligation that don’t add value to our lives. That we won’t be too busy.That’s probably naive, but we can sure try.

I hope that you have some bright spots to look back on from this past school year. I hope you can share them with your children and they can share theirs with you. Whatever you had to do to get through this, I am so outrageously proud of you. I am proud of me too. And wow, our kids. They’ve been through some shit. I’m super proud of them.

Please, please take some time to celebrate what you have managed to get through. I got cupcakes for the kiddo and some cocktails for grownups. Please do whatever version of that sparks some happiness.

PUNT THAT SCHOOL-ISSUED LAPTOP INTO THE SUN.

I mean, yeah okay, we’ll all responsibly return it fully charged and be so grateful to the school system that we didn’t have to use Mommy’s work laptop for it but you know… metaphorically it’s that scene from Office Space. (Your kids wouldn’t get this joke but this isn’t for them. JUST LIKE THE COCKTAIL/CHOCOLATE/BUBBLEBATH/WHATEVER YOU ARE GONNA DO TO CELEBRATE YOU )

Anyway, you are amazing. Maybe you don’t feel like many people noticed. I see you. I’m toasting you from this weird half-teacher’s lounge we share.

If you’d like to share some of your brightest spots, or most amazing, brilliant parent hacks from all this madness, I would love to read about it in the comments. We’ve got to hold onto the good.

#pandemic #Amanda Deibert #lesbian moms #LGBTQ+#parenting #pandemic parenting #distance learning #class of 2021

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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The MILFnevka AU

Once again something that was brainstormed en masse on the GG fanworks server.

I was... very much spearheading this one, but I dragged in @professorsparklepants for a lot, because Anevka, as well as input from @fenerismoon, @purronronner, @gelpenss, and @whirlibird. The original conversation took place mid-September of 2019.

AU where Tarvek's side of the family squeezed in an extra generation or so.

Aaronev was still Lu's generation, but he had Anevka young, and she was an only child who was already an adult by the time Lu disappeared. As a result, Aaronev let her married before she ended up in the machine (because he wasn’t desperate yet), and he couldn't risk drawing the attention by the time Agatha’s gen is being born.

So instead of being Tarvek's SISTER, she's his MOM.

Anevka formed her own faction, separate from the Aaronev and vaguely aligned with Terabithia’s.

She insisted Martellus and his branch hang out with Tarvek because being an only child is lonely, and also it keeps Tarvek out of his grandfather's sights and vague plans of body-hopping.

She is a Protective Momma who is a little TOO down with murdering anyone who threatens her child.

Agatha: you're just going to listen to your evil mom? Because no offense but that's worked out really bad for me so far. Tarvek: She's not EVIL, just... Valois... anyway the Baron knows what she's like and mostly he just rolls his eyes and tries to keep her away from Queen DuPree.

Anevka is definitely the mom that uses her position as mother of the king/heir to stockpile as much power as possible and control everything behind the scenes. Tarvek is currently trying to undermine this and wrestle back control as secretly as possible.

Wine mom with eighty hidden stabbing implements.

When Agatha is discovered, Anevka still kills her dad, but it's not like she can steal Agatha's voice in this AU, so she just settles for aggressively matchmaking her with Tarvek.

Anevka's managed to rein her dad in, mostly, because she's a powerful spark with an Undefined Husband who nonetheless has enough good connections to cause a ruckus if he finds out about the Summoning Throne, and he's too sparky to wasp.

This did lead to his early death and no siblings for Tarvek, but not before Anevka managed to fight her dad down to ONLY trying to throne the girls who were legitimately likely to be Agatha.

And then Agatha's in Sturmhalten and Anevka's just like. Well. Time for plan A. And kills her dad.

Regarding Gil... She kinda wants to pat him on the head and tell him to try harder.

I'm not wholly convinced Tarvek got kicked off of Castle Wulfenbach, depending on how Anevka married and decided to approach things. She might have warned Tarvek to AVOID stealing information, even, if she was worried about Aaronev trying to do something.

Less "do whatever you can to help us gain power" and more "do whatever you can to stay out of Sturmhalten."

Tarvek: My mom is a bitch and I love her so much

Klaus hates it when Anevka comes to CW because she acts like some unholy cross between Lucrezia, Terabithia, and Zantabraxus and she keeps hitting on his top enforcers but with knives and pretty dresses.

Unstoppable Divorce energies

Anevka: Do you like my new dress? Klaus: Your bodice is far too low cut, please stop visiting me dressed like my ex. I'm the same age as your father. Anevka: I know, it's really fun to watch you suffer as you fail to resist the urge to tell me to put on a sweater.

Tarvek: MOTHER YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF ALL MY FRIENDS PLEASE STOP HITTING ON THE BARON AURGH. Anevka: I'm not HITTING on him, I'm trying to make his face turn puce. Anevka: I am, however, hitting on Von Pinn. She looks like she knows how to have fun. Tarvek: MOTHER.

Tarvek, to Gil: the baron can't be your dad, he's old enough to be your grandfather. Gil: He’s at a solid age for both.

Anevka and Klaus have zero actual attraction to each other but there's definitely A Dynamic that's eerily reminiscent of his relationship with Bang, with slightly less "I did a violence, be proud of me" and slightly more "I did a sexy and/or politics, be proud of me."

Tarvek: I have a problem. Gil: What's up? Tarvek: All of our friends want to fuck my mom. Zulenna: I don't. Tarvek: That's because she used to put you in time-out when we were five.

Anevka is prime Dangerous Widow material. She didn't actually kill her husband but a hell of a lot of people think she did.

Seffie thinks her Auntie 'Nevka is the COOLEST

Anevka having an intermittent fling with that "darlingly stupid young hero, Tryggvassen" makes me laugh way too hard and also dips into my nonsense love of Otharnevka.

At one point we did sidle over into “what if Single Father KB tho”

Like they met at some point on vacation while the kids were still kids, which does lose us the “Anevka aggressively ships her kid with Agatha” thing, so I’m not sticking with this but there’s some hella fun tidbits.

Anevka: Guess what. Klaus, very tired: What. Anevka: I'm getting married. Klaus: Again? Good for you. I hope this one lives longer. Anevka: He has the same name as you. Klaus: Get out of my house.

KB isn't a widower, things are just complicated and everyone blames Lu. There's time travel involved, of course.

"So your daughter--" "Sister." "...how--" "Just... just blame my mother."

He's LEGALLY Agatha's dad, maybe? Their dynamic is parent-child. Just, you know, as far as blood goes...

Anevka wants KB to help her bag Othar again. KB thinks she means finally killing him. Anevka: I might. Haven't decided yet.

Overall, though, including KB is too complicated without undermining the entire premise I want. Which is mostly canon but Anevka is Tarvek's embarrassing, mysterious, prone-to-assassination mother.

Seriously though, the entire attraction here is Anevka having the Dangerous Widow Whom No Man Can Tie Down vibe

She's a solo act. Some flings, sure, but overall? Chaos. Refined, elegant chaos.

Anevka as Bang’s sugar mom was suggested. We were obviously all on board.

Bang doesn’t need a sugar mom, but it makes the vein in Klaus's forehead throb, and that's very important.

Bang absolutely tries to get Tarvek to call her “mom” while she’s ‘dating’ Anevka. One time he does call her that and it throws her for SUCH A LOOP because no wrong.

Anevka occasionally daydreams of a world where she could have both Othar and Bang at the same time without them IMMEDIATELY trying to kill each other. Only occasionally, though, she has evidence to plant and blood to spill.

BACK TO ANEVKA SHIPPING HER KID WITH HIS POLITICALLY-APPROPRIATE CRUSH.

Anevka: Oh look, my future daughter-in-law. Tarvek, tired: Mother, she doesn't like me. Anevka: Whyever not? You're clever, handsome, politically apt, charming, sensitive, heir to a throne, you are EVERYTHING a maiden could wish for. Tarvek: You just think that because you're my mom. Agatha: No, no, she's not wrong. You're just not someone I trust. At all. Especially since you say you've been a honeypot before. Anevka: See? A simple hurdle, dear, I'm sure you could whip him into shape in no time. I could even loan you the whip. And the harness, perh-- Tarvek: MOTHER.

Anevka sends Tarvek out with Othar for “field trips.”

It’s great!! Multi-purpose! Absolutely helps boost Tarvek’s image if he’s associated with Known Hero, gets Othar out of her hair for a little bit, sometimes he can be pointed in a direction that’s useful to her.

Othar refers to this outings as “stepfather-stepson bonding times.” Tarvek absolutely hates it. Detests it, really.

Somehow something goes wrong and like 50% of the time and he ends up getting accused of murder, probably.

It’s so unfair. Especially since of the two of them, Othar is more likely to murder than him. (It’s because everyone knows what those Valois types are like, and Othar is a hero.)

Gil: What's so embarrassing about your mom? Your mom's nice. (To me.)

She gives him head pats and lollipops. His own dad certainly never gives him head pats OR lollipops.

Anevka: Well I WAS going to push him towards dear little Seffie, but he seems to be quite enamored with YOU, darling. Tarvek: Mother, PLEASE stop getting invested in my love life.

Anevka’s job is to meddle, he’s lucky she isn’t drawing up contracts and going Full Arrangement.

I also love the idea of Anevka having one of those "sunshine embodied anime mom" smiles as she says "Oh Tarvek, dear, look at all your little friends!"

She's genuinely enthused but Klaus is heavily disturbed by Anevka smiling like that.

"Is she going to sacrifice them?" "Uh, no, it isn't Sunday."

Human sacrifice is actually garish and passe these days, haven’t you heard?

Just imagining one of those Stately Child and Parent portraits with Anevka and Tarvek here.

When Tarvek was born, Anevka has an "I've only had my son for an hour and a half" moment... and then just shrugged and rolled with it.

Anevka "Hot Mom" Sturmvoraus is one of the MANY banes of Klaus's existence, but she's definitely one of the friendliest on the list... as much as he may resent that, at times.

Anevka: Is the Baron in? Boris: Actually... [Crashing noise] Boris: He just left. Anevka, pulling on the rocket boots she stole from Othar and heading towards the broken window leading to the outside of the ship: That's alright, I'll catch up.

(I love how Anevka's name just lends itself so well to AU portmanteaus.)

Anevka definitely susses out Gil's identity but she doesn't actually DO anything about it other than angling for Useful Connections.

She's always telling Tarvek to bring his friend along, and Klaus doesn't want Gil anywhere near that family but he doesn't want it to look like he has any particular interest in Gil.

Imagine Klaus actually encouraging Gil to persue Agatha with the idea that it will put some distance between Gil and "that damn woman and her spawn." Anevka for her part is pushing Agatha towards Tarvek. Meanwhile the three of them are working it out between themselves.

She just has This Energy, folks:

Tarvek: Oh no. Theo: Whats the matter? That's your mom, right? Tarvek: Oh NO, she's wearing her 'NEWLY WIDOWED BUT OUT ON THE PROWL' OUTFIT Theo: ????? She hasn’t been widowed- Tarvek: SHES AFTER THE BARON AND I'M GOING TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT, THEO

The one thing here is that Anevka's not into Klaus and he's not into her but by GOD is she going to fuck with his head about it.

She’s just doing this for the Big Dick Energy of trying to Get Baron Wulfenbach.

Embarrassing mom of the deadliest degree.

Tarvek: YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN MY LIFE. Anevka: Don't be so dramatic, let your mother have a bit of fun. Besides, he's not expelling you anymore, is he? Tarvek: I almost wish he was-

Also Gil and Tarvek reconciling early on due to the immense power of being Embarrassed By Your Parents.

Anevka and Klaus getting increasingly bitchy at each other at dinner, and Tarvek and Gil are just. Bright red and glowering at them.

They’re DESTROYING their COOL TEEN CRED.

Tarvek doesn't ever wants to marry a woman who has been married before, not because of some weird distaste of so-called "sloppy seconds," but rather that he's just scared that they're going to be like his mom, and planning to kill him for his money.

Tarvek, waking up in the middle of the night: What if they really do get married and I have to have Gil as a stepbrother. Tarvek: (screams internally for a few hours)

Anevka is also that Sailor J contouring video

While Otharnevka is... this thing

Some more relevant Vibes: Divorce Court Half-Mourning Upper East Side Widow

Everyone always assumed she had murdered her husband. It was a natural assumption, but ultimately wrong. She had had plans in place to kill him if the need arose, but in the end she hadn’t needed them.

Most people grossly underestimated how complicated it was to arrange for someone to be t-boned by a semi carrying flammable chemicals.

Othar as Anevka's second trophy husband and Tarvek's annoying stepdad has a very specific energy.

That energy is at least 20% "the lovebirds take anniversary honeymoons every year" and 60% "Tarvek hates being in the room with them because they're gross and embarrassing."

This is partly fun because Othar being Tarvek’s stepdad is... a lot.

But honestly, I'm also just enjoying cougar Anevka with Trophy Husband Othar. They're actually in love!!! BUT. Cougar with a trophy husband.

Anevka makes sly comments about Othar and Klaus having sexual tension.

Also I have headcanons about NB Tarvek and like

I think she'd be supportive up until the point of "you want to be Storm King, don't you?"

Less "this isn't natural and you shouldn't be this way" and more "this is going to cause you trouble due to social norms."

"Keep it under wraps until your throne is secure, then you can come out in a blaze of glory." No dresses in public until you're king, then do whatever you want. After all, “Your Majesty” is gender neutral.

Anevka caught Tarvek playing dressup in her closet one time and just criticized the color relationships.

And you must try to avoid wearing that particular shade at all, my dear, it really doesn't look imperial.

#Anevka Sturmvoraus #Girl Genius #Tarvek Sturmvoraus #Klaus Wulfenbach #Gilgamesh Wulfenbach #Othar Tryggvassen #Agatha Heterodyne #Otharnevka #GG OT3 #Phoenix Posts

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hateswifi · 4 years

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No More Second Chances: Chapter 7

So yep, i think this is the third chapter this month. imma tired, I haven’t slept properly since Sunday. its almost three k words so yeah

The Master: Master List

No More Second Chances: Master List

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Apparently, school had to go on April break for her to get any sleep. Clark and Lois decided that the first half of the week would be spent in Smallville and she couldn’t remember the second place, it’s not even her fault though, people like to talk to her before she can drink coffee.

“Another grandchild! Is this one a clone like Connor?” Aunt Martha asks, pulling everyone into hugs.

“No, Ma, this is the exchange student that we’ve been taking in for the last month and a half, I told you about her,” Clark says, hugging his mom.

“Oh thank god, I don't know how I would react if someone cloned you again, because it was either she is a clone or another one of Bruce’s, but no matter, you’ll be staying Kara’s room,” Martha says, leading the bluenette inside the homey-farm house.

It was fifteen minutes later after she was done getting comfortable that Aunt Martha appears in the doorway. She smiles while saying, “I hope everything is good, I don't know if you want to, but there’s plenty of ingredients if you want to bake. Clark told me that you grew up in a bakery.”

“I would love to, I haven’t baked since before I left home,” Marinette smiles, putting down her sketchbook.

“What are you working on?” Martha asks, taking a seat on Marinette’s bed beside her.

“Oh, these are designs I had to put off because of the move and family issues. Uncle Jagged was understanding but because it’s spring break, I would love to be able to get them to him as soon as possible,” Marinette explains.

“That’s cool, do you want to be a designer when you’re older?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what I get for growing up in the fashion center of the world,” Marinette shrugs.”

“Well, honey, if there’s anything that you need let me know, I’m going to get out of your hair,” Martha says.

“You’ll never be a bother,” Marinette giggles.

“Dinner will be at five,” Martha says, closing the door behind her. Marinette sighs and goes back to sketching. Uncle Jagged needed his outfits soon so if she designed everything the first half of the week, she can go to the closest fabric store wherever they’re staying the rest of the week. A couple of hours later, though it felt like minutes, she was being called down for dinner where she met Jon’s, Uncle Jonathan.

“Welcome to the family, Marinette,” he greets with a pleasant smile. “You’re not a clone, right?”

“See what I mean! You could definitely be a clone!” Martha points out.

“I guess I could be, but thankfully I’m not,” Marinette giggles.

“But she’s a hero,” Jon smiles, pulling her into a side hug.

“Seriously Jon, why are you calling me out?” Marinette asks, rubbing her temples.

“I’m not!” Jon says, feigning innocence. “She’s a Parisian hero!”

“Or as Dick put it, a magic girl,” Marinette sighs.

“Oh we know, we know everything,” Martha chuckles.

“But you didn’t know that I am not a clone?”

“It gets blurry when it comes to specific things,” Jonathan shrugs. “Jon, you ready to help me tomorrow?”

“Of course! I’ve missed working,” Jon responds with a smile.

“Can I help?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Jonathan says. The rest of the dinner was spent talking about plans and getting to know each other. After dinner, Marinette called Adrien and talked to him for a bit while sketching. They had to hang up not too long after the starting call because it was late for him.

The time flew by, she helped out in the field Uncle Jon, explored the town with Jon, designed for Uncle Jagged, and baked with Aunt Martha. She had a lot of fun and completely forgot about her Parisian problems. Aunt Martha and Marinette shared baking recipes and Aunt Martha sent a recipe to her baking buddy.

On Wednesday, Clark and Lois cam to pick Jon and Marinette up so they could bring them to the other place where they would be staying for the rest of the week. Marinette, again, didn’t hear nor did she care where they were going next. She put in her headphones and sketched the last outfit that Jagged had requested. Marinette asked Lois and Clark to stop on the way to their destination, which they did. She loved the fabric she picked out and couldn’t wait to start sewing. She barely registered when the car stopped, she grabbed her stuff and Jon led her wherever they were staying. People talked around her but she couldn’t hear them, she was focused on her music and studying her designs. She saw people moving out of the corner of her eye but she couldn’t care, she just wanted to sit down and started sewing.

The next thing she knows somebody, who she thinks is Jon, is leading her to a different, which she hopes is her room so she can start working.

“Here’s your room,” the person said, opening the door. She mutters a thank you before sitting down at the desk that was across the room from her. She starts laying out fabrics and separating them for each outfit. That was all she could get done by the time Clark and Lois walked in to say goodbye it was almost dinner time already. She was going to go downstairs when she was interrupted by a call by Adrien. She decided to forgo dinner and just continue working. She heard a quiet knock on the door and an older man walks in.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss Marinette, it would seem that you missed dinner, so I took the liberty to bring you some food,” he greets.

“Great thank you,” Marinette mutters, putting down her sewing actually taking a minute to look up. “Alfred? Where the heck am I?”

“You’re in the Wayne Manor, Miss” Alfred repeats, putting the plate down.

“Oh my apologies, I’ve been distracted with my work, I didn’t even realize where I was,” Marinette sighs, before realizing she was still on the phone. “Sorry Adrien, I’ll call you tomorrow, go to bed, it’s late.” She finishes, hanging up.

“I heard from Martha that you like to bake,” Alfred says.

“Yeah, that’s true, I grew up in a bakery,” Marinette shrugs, taking a piece of bread.

“The kitchen is open if you would like to use it,” Alfred says before leaving the room. Marinette nods to herself while eating her food while it’s still warm. After she finishes, she decides that she needs a stretch so she takes her plate to the kitchen and to grab a coffee.

When she gets to the kitchen she’s shocked to see a pot already brewing. There’s a guy half-passed out, or half-awake depending at how you look at things, practically sprawled out on the counter. “Are you ok?” Marinette asks, looking for a mug.

“Oh my gosh! Are you real?” he asks, startling awake.

“I would assume I’m real, you’re Tim, right? Where are the mugs?” Marinette asks, opening random cabinets. “Nevermind, I found them.”

“You’re the magic girl, you don’t need coffee,” he says, pouring himself a huge mug of coffee.

“Against popular belief, we do need sleep and basic human necessities,” She explains taking the pot from him.

“Why do you need coffee?”

“When I was in Smallville, I wasn’t able to go to the supply store. I asked Lois and Clark to take me they said yes, so we stopped on our way over,” Marinette says, sipping her coffee.

“What supplies?”

“Fabric, I’m behind on my Uncle’s orders, but he understands,” Marinette shrugs.

“Great what we need another coffee addict,” Another voice grumbles, entering the kitchen.

“Good to see you, Demon, what are you doing up?” Tim asks, unimpressed.

“I heard you shriek,” Damian deadpans.

“I didn’t shriek,” Tim says, offended.

“Well, I’m just going to go back to my room, you guys can work out whatever brotherly love is going on here,” Marinette says, brushing past Damian.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing her wrist.

“What?” she asks, turning towards him.

“I- umm..,” he starts catching himself. “Welcome to the manor, I hope you’ll find your stay enjoyable.” he finishes, letting go of her arm.

“Umm.. of course, thank you, Dami,” Marinette yawns, rubbing the back of her neck before rushing off to do her work.

Once she disappeared from view Tim snickers behind his mug. “I can tell you one thing you didn’t inherit from Bruce.” He chuckles.

“I like it better when you were unconscious,” Damian says, stomping off towards his room.

“Words can’t hurt me,” Tim yells at his back.

“But swords can,” Damian shouts over his shoulder.

“Must have gotten on his nerves, it’s been a while since he’s threatened us,” Dick says, entering the kitchen. “Aso what have we agreed on for coffee?”

“But Marinette had some,” Tim whines, rushing away from Dick before he can take his sustenance.

“She’s a magic girl, she gets a pass,” Dick yells at his back.

Marinette was back in her zone sewing what Jagged needed the soonest, he has a concert in Boston soon before going to New York and then coming over to Gotham. She was working on is concert wear first. She works through the night until a knock interrupts her thoughts once again, expecting it to be Alfred or Jon, she mindlessly says come in.

“Good morning, Marinette,” Damian says, entering the room.

“It’s morning?” She asks, looking up from her work.

“Yes, have you been working all night?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess I have,” she responds in a daze.

“What are you working on, if I may ask,” Damian asks, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Just a commission for my uncle.”

“Your uncle is going to wear a purple-glittery suit?”

“Uncle Jagged is over the top like that, but it suits him,” Marinette shrugs, inspecting her handy work.

“Jagged as in Jagged Stone, you’re his personal designer?”

“You didn’t realize that?”

“If I didn’t realize that, there’s no way my incompetent sibling realized it either,” Damian smirks.

“Why does it matter?” She asks, looking up from her work.

“They love Jagged Stone and they love your designs,” Damian explains.

“Well, Jagged will need to pick up his stuff, by the way, I should mention he’s also trying to adopt me,” Marinette says, continuing to work on the finishing touches to the piece. “Oh by the way, what made you stop by?”

“Oh.. um- I wanted to see if you wanted to come down for breakfast,” Damian responds.

“Sure, let me put this down,” she finished before standing up to follow Damian to the dining room. They enter the dining room together and all of the eyes are on them.

“Hey, Marinette, I thought you were dead,” Jon jokes, taking a bite of toast.

“Not dead, just exhausted. Also, thanks for having us, Bruce,” Marinette says, taking a seat in between Jon and Damian.

“It is my pleasure to,” Bruce says, looking over the newspaper.

“This won’t give you the advantage in the adoption war,” Jon snickers.

“I have a different way to get her in the family,” Bruce retorts.

“I should mention, can my uncle come over later this week to pick up his orders?” Marinette asks, pouring herself more coffee.

“What day?”

“Friday afternoon I would think,” Marinette says, stabbing the food in front of her.

“I was informed that he is also in the running adoption,” Damian says, sipping his water.

“I’m not thinking about adoption,” Bruce says, which brought some confused looks and some coughs.

“All I’m going to say is, my dad is freaking Superman so I think we’ll win this adoption war,” Jon shrugs.

“Jon!” Multiple people say, which caused everyone to look around.

“Wait you guys know?” Marinette asks, confused.

“Of course we know, how do you know?” Jason asks.

“Oh, after she was revealed as a magic girl, Mom was quite annoyed to be left out of the superhero club,” Jon says.

“That makes sense,” Damian shrugs and continues eating. They continue eating breakfast, with some light chatter, and some teases mostly aimed at Damian and Marinette, and there total not crushes on each other.

After breakfast, Marinette holes herself back up in her room to continue working on her commissions. That’s how she spends the rest of the day, she gets a phone call from Adrien and they talked for a while. After lunch, Damian came in and sat with her for a bit and they made light talk. He sat and read his book as she sews more, breaking every once in a while to talk. She was honestly very happy how she spent one of her last days of vacation.

She is even happier the next day Jagged and Penny arrived. The boys’ shocked faces are priceless.

“You’re trying to tell me your Uncle is, Jagged Stone, as in THE Jagged Stone,” Jason exclaims.

“I swear I mentioned this,” Marinette says, scratching her head before shugging.

“How’s my rockin’ ladybug!” Jagged says, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m doing good, I’m exhausted, though,” Marinette yawns before going to grab the bags that held her work from her room.

“Did you guys let her stay up way too late to finish them?” Jagged asks, in all seriousness.

“She lived off coffee for the past two days,” Tim says.

“If you’re ever around her when she’s like this, she has a curfew of one a.m.. At that time, you are allowed to gently take everything from her hands and just lewd her to her bed,” Jagged explains.

“Are you betraying me, Jagged?” Marinette asks arms crossed to the best of her ability because she was holding his outfits.

“All I’m saying Mari is that you lost enough sleep as a hero teen, you need to catch up on it now,” Jagged said, copying her posture.

“Hey you can’t even blame me, I remember having to fight a Fang because he was akumatized into freakin dragon around midnight,” Marinette deadpans. “I don’t hold it against you though, I got to fly, it was liberating.”

“I wrote you and Adrien a song because of it,” Jagged fires back.

“Conversation over, go try on the outfits,” Marinette says, shoving them into his arms.

“Fine, fine, so bossy,” Jagged sighs, before walking away.

“So you’re his personal designer? Which means you are Nettie!” Tim says.

“You’re Nettie and a magic girl! Bruce can we adopt her please!” Dick pleads.

There are three in sync no’s that follow, one from Jagged, one from Marinette, and lastly, on from Damian.

“Damian, why wouldn’t you want Marinette apart of your family? She rocking! If you can’t see this amazing girl, then you’re blind,” Jagged defends. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I got first dibs.”

“Tell that to Adrien’s aunt, she wants to adopt me as well,” Marinette responds.

“Don’t forget about my parents,” Jon adds.

“Joint custody?” Jagged shrugs. “Can we cut Adrien’s aunt out? She can have you when you visit him.”

“It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just trying to make the most of what my life is right now,” Marinette shrugs.

“It’s decided, Clark and I have split custody,” Jagged shrugs.

“Woah, Woah, Woah, you can’t come into my house and cut me out of the adoption,” Bruce says, crossing his arms.

“You just wanted her in the family, we don’t need a triple custody for that,” Tim points out.

“Well this has been a great conversation, and I love being adopted and stuff, but I haven’t slept since Wednesday so I’m going to go to bed,” Marinette yawns. “Goodnight everyone.”

“I’ll walk you to your room so um you don’t get lost, it is a bit manor,” Damian says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Um… sure, let’s go,” Marinette says, letting him lead her down the hall. When they’re out of earshot Jagged says. “They’re totally into each other, I’m no the only one seeing, right?”

“You’d have to literally be blind or be one of them to not notice it,” Jason says.

“So were you happy to see your uncle?” Damian asks.

“Of course, I haven’t seen him since before my move,” Marinette smiles.

“I’m pleased that you’re staying for the rest of break with us,” Damian says as they approach her room. “Sleep well, Angel.” He says, kissing her hand.

“Damn, I really hope this isn’t a dream,” Marinette mutters out, her eyelids feeling heavy. He leads her to lay down and she drags him down with her. “Imma go to sleep now,” she says hugging him tightly.

“Let me go first,” Damian mutters out.

“No, you’ll help me sleep,” she mutters back into his chest.

“You better not remember this tomorrow,” Damian grumbles. He doesn’t get a response.

----------------------------------

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a-singleboat · 4 years

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Word Count: 4.1k

Request: great! you’re a really good writer! could I get a Shayne Topp x Reader where they end up doing a bunch of romantic scenes together in a sketch, like slow dancing and a nice dinner and the cuddles, and you guys have been flirting constantly for months and after the shoot Damien, Court, Ian and everyone lock you two in a room because they’re TIRED of it not going anywhere - @mrtopphaasmyheart

A/N: this actually turned out a lot longer than i thought it would... sorry not sorry!

It was Saturday night when they emailed out the filming schedules for the upcoming month. You were sitting at home, reading a book and being “insanely boring” as your friends had so eloquently put it.

But as much as you had wanted to go out with your old college friends, that week of filming had really taken a toll on you and your body. Now, as a YouTube personality, you weren’t required to do your own stunts due to the fact that stuffed dolls could easily take your place for comedic effect. However, being a former stuntwoman for a few months during college, you loved the adrenaline crashing through a window or two gave you.

As Smosh’s stunt coordinator, that meant you weren’t on screen as often as your coworkers. Which is why the upcoming month’s filming schedule shocked you. Aside from a Try Not to Laugh and a few Smosh Gaming videos, you were also scheduled in an Every Blank Ever. Namely, the Every Valentine's Day Ever video.

Considering Valentine’s Day was a little less than a month out, it wasn’t weird that they wanted to get this video recorded and on its way to editing. What was weird was the fact that most of your filming blocks aligned with Shayne Topp’s.

It wasn’t a secret that you were the group flirt. Next to Courtney, you were both the most notorious for flirting with your coworkers on screen and, in your case, off.

But with Shayne… It started five months ago. Five months ago, your harmless flirting turned into something a little more than for-good-fun.

Five months ago, the flirty little winks you sent in his direction meant more than something friendly and the words exchanged turned into something more than just words. But you were sure that was all you.

There was no way Shayne felt the same for you. After all, he was an extremely friendly guy and he acted that way to everyone. That was your best defense. That he was just really nice.

You shook your head as if the motion would shake the thoughts from your mind. You closed your book and laptop, shoving both items off to the side. You reached over and clicked your bedside lamp off, settling in for the night.

You’d figure it out in the morning, you decided, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you off to another world.

The next morning, you met up with Courtney and Olivia for your weekly Sunday brunches. You had settled on a new place, rather than your regular brunch spot. The only difference was this place offered outdoor seating, which was nice despite the fact that it was still January and it was sixty degrees Fahrenheit.

You guessed you could blame the warmer-than-average weather on global warming.

“What’d you do yesterday, Olivia?” you asked as Courtney wrapped up her recount on the movie night she had with one of her many siblings. They had gone out to watch The Turning, much to her sister’s amusement and to Courtney’s torture.

“I just hung out with Sam,” Olivia revealed, shrugging. “Wrote in my filming schedule in my planner.”

You took a sip of your mimosa, nodding along. “Yeah, I had a mellow weekend too.”

Courtney kicked your foot under the table. “But did you see who you were paired with for, like, eighty percent of the scenes, Y/n?”

You shrugged, setting your drink down. “Shayne? Yeah, I saw it.”

Courtney poked you this time. “For the Valentine’s scenes. You know, the romantic stuff!”

She wiggled her eyebrows as you fought to keep the smile off your face. “We won’t even be shooting those until Wednesday.”

You and Shayne had about three or four romantic scenes in the Every Blank Ever, marked ‘Breakfast in Bed,’ ‘Dinner,’ ‘Proposal’ (which was a continuation of ‘Dinner’), and one unspecified scene. You figured they’d tell you what the unspecified scene was when it came time to film it.

“So that means you have until Wednesday to fantasize all about it,” Olivia said, wiggling her fingers like she was a wizard spreading magic.

You laughed slightly, shaking your head. You held up a hand and asked your waiter for your check. You thanked them when they brought over the little black book, shooing off your two friends as they tried to poke fun of you.

As the baby of the group, you figured a little teasing was warranted. It came with the territory.

But by the time Wednesday rolled around, you figured your status of the baby of the group wouldn’t help you much.

Sarah Whittle, one of your bosses, stood near you as you did up your own makeup. She was waiting patiently for the curler to heat up so she could do up your hair, making you feel much like she was your mom helping you get ready for Prom night.

“You ready for today's scenes, Y/l?” she asked in a teasing manner.

You rolled your eyes and took a break from applying your mascara to stick your tongue out at the older woman like the child you were.

“It’s the breakfast in bed scene first,” you complained as you nearly poked your eye out with the wand. “Why do I need to have my hair curled if I just woke up?”

Sarah picked up the curler after sliding on the black cloth glove that was designed so that she couldn’t burn herself too badly with the heated stick of metal.

“Well, you’re going to be wearing a hair covering for this scene so your curls can set for the dinner scene,” Sarah explained before winking. “Plus, it’d be less work for me later.”

Since Sarah had already sectioned off your hair, it made it easier for her to curl the pieces and then pin them up with bobby pins to keep them secure. Once she finished, she reached over and grabbed a patterned shower cap and slid it on over the little bundles of curled hair.

She explained that the residue heat would essentially act like one of those giant hair dryers that you would sit under at a hair salon, but with less health risks.

After you were finished with hair and makeup, you were ushered off to costume where you were given a nightgown and a robe.

You thanked whatever deity was up there that you had been provided a robe before making your way to set, passing a dressed up Courtney, who waved enthusiastically at you. You resisted the urge to jokingly throw up the middle finger at your friend, instead choosing to wave back and give a tight smile that showed off your discomfort.

Thankfully, Ian was the scene’s director, which immediately put you at ease. It wasn’t that you had anything against the others. In fact, you loved being able to work with Ryan. It was just the fact that since coining Ian as your Smosh dad, you found it easier to perform better in scenes like these if someone you had already been emotionally vulnerable with was the one behind the steering wheel.

“Okay,” Ian said, clapping his hands together. “Y/n, you’re going to wake up and maybe yawn a little, and then Shayne is going to come in with a tray of food. I want you to take a bite, and chew through it while pretending you like it. You got that?”

You shucked your robe, handing it off to one of the assistants that were on hand. You gave him a thumbs up before settling into the bed, moving down so it looked like you were sleeping.

You waited, counted three breaths, before you heard Ian call, “Action.”

You waited two more breaths before ‘waking up,’ yawning and groggily rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, moving yourself so that your back was flush to the headboard.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” Shayne said, pretending to have come through a door. He made his way over to the bed and set the tray over your lap. You smiled at him, imagining what domestic life with Shayne would actually be like.

“Good morning,” you replied, remembering that this was a scripted moment. “What’d you make for me?”

Shayne settled into the bed next to you, pointing at each item as he listed them off. “I made the pancakes I made you on our first morning together, as well as the scrambled eggs that I know you love so much, and I got you some orange juice in a mug with a heart on it that I found from our local flea market.”

You acted like it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. Putting on a face that would read to the audience that you two were madly in love. “Oh, honey. I love it, thank you!”

You kissed his cheek, thinking nothing of it as you moved onto the next part of Ian’s directions to you. You put a spoonful of eggs into your mouth, making a face at the ‘taste.’

“Do you like it?” Shayne asked, still in character.

You made a face that was halfway between joy and disgust, acting like it was the worst thing you’ve ever eaten. “It’s great, Steve.”

Ian called for a cut and you reached out beside you as the assistant from earlier rushed to hand you a bucket. You spat out the food, scraping your teeth along your tongue to get the residue egg out of your mouth.

She handed your your robe next, to which you replied, “Thank you, Julia,” before pulling the article of clothing on.

Shayne threw an arm around your shoulders as you got out of bed, pulling you back and wrapping his arms around you. You laughed, feeling your cheeks burn with half embarrassment and half oh-my-God-what-is-he-doing.

“They got us up this early, they can give us a few minutes to nap,” he declared, settling his head atop yours the best he could in the awkward position he had put you in. It was nothing new, Shayne being touchy with you, but this time was different. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, but you knew something had changed.

Maybe it was the fact that you had just filmed a scene in which you both were a couple. The fake engagement ring that sat on your finger reminded you of that. The fact that this was fake.

“Come on,” Ian scolded, a laugh also written across his face. “The sooner you both get through the next three scenes, the sooner you can go home.”

You wriggled out of Shayne’s grasp, laughing as he tried to tickle your sides. It wasn’t the fact that you were insanely ticklish, no. It was the fact that his hands on you felt so undeniably right, that your brain had thought of no other reaction but to laugh.

“Alright,” you surrendered, “I’ll go. I’ll see you at dinner, Mr. Topp.”

He kneeled on the bed, raising up from his sitting position. He bent at the waist jokingly, a goofy grin on his face.

“Until then, Ms. Y/l.”

You gave him a two-finger salute in farewell before disappearing from set, making your way back to hair and makeup. There, Sarah awaited you, anxious to take out the pins and reveal her ‘masterpiece.’

Once your hair was revealed, which did look insanely good, you set to work on applying a modest amount of makeup, knowing that the amount of lights on the set would even out your complexion.

From years in show business, you’d learned that a healthy medium between your normal everyday makeup and stage makeup was the way to go when filming in a closed set. As far as you knew, you wouldn’t be filming outside or in any dark or enclosed spaces.

When you were carted off to costume, you were glad to trade out your nightgown and robe with a red dress that really did flatter your figure in the best ways. You gave Lindsay a spin when she asked you to before being carted off to set for the second time that day.

Luckily, you’d be in the same outfit for the next three scenes you had to film that day, which meant no more back and forth between departments.

You thanked whatever deity was up there because ten minutes in and the heels Lindsay had put you in were already cutting off circulation to your toes.

“Okay,” Ian said, and clapped again. It was a habit of his that didn’t look like it was going anywhere soon. “For this scene, we’re going to film the dinner and proposal all in one and splice it in editing and whatever. I’ll stop you if I want to give a little more direction, but you know what you’re doing and so does Shayne.”

You smiled at Ian’s attempt at easing up your nerves. No matter how fake, getting proposed to was always a nerve-wracking experience.

Shayne walked up to set next, dressed up and looking a little extra fancy.

You bumped his hip as they set up the scene, threading your arms through his. “You clean up nice.”

He smirked. “I could say the same for you, Y/n.”

You felt the heat rise into your cheeks, hating that Shayne could get any kind of reaction from you.

You heard Ian call action and immediately started walking. The two of you gossiped about the “hot new Italian restaurant” your boss recommended before arriving at the entrance.

“Hello,” Damien greeted them, an Italian accent gracing his lips. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

Shayne stepped forward a little. “Yes, Copper. That’s C-O-P-P-E-R.”

“Copper,” Damien repeated, though his accent botched the pronunciation a little for comedic effect. “Ah, yes. C-O-P-P-E-R. Right this way.”

Damien ‘led’ you to your table, though in all reality, the cameras cut as the set changed slightly, the restaurant tables coming in and some of your coworkers coming in to fill the seats around you.

Damien asked for your order in proper waiter fashion before dashing off to ‘fetch your drinks.’

You leaned in, tucking some hair behind your ear as to not obscure your face from the cameras. “Babe, this place is really fancy. Are you sure you can afford this?”

Shayne scoffed and brushed you off. “Of course, I can afford this!”

He made a joke loudly, and you laughed nervously, looking around and apologizing to the other patrons of the bar as scripted.

“Babe,” you hissed. “Quiet down, people are staring!”

He scoffed again, doing his little bit before returning to the script.

“Let them stare!” he announced, climbing onto the table. Your eyes widened as you held onto the table, even though you fully well knew that it was bolted down to the set.

“Ramona, I am in love with you and have been since I first swiped right,” he declared, putting his hand to his heart. He jumped off the table and leaned over to another table, taking the engagement ring right off an extra’s finger.

You watched as she acted offended, storming off with her fiance.

You returned your attention to Shayne, who was down on one knee in front of you. “Ramona, will you marry me?”

You looked around, acting shocked and repulsed by what had just taken place. You gave it a few moments, waiting for the comedic timing to line up, before bursting out into fake tears and saying yes.

The crowd around you burst into cheers, you could hear your coworkers clapping and calling out congratulations as Shayne held you in his arms.

Ian called cut but Shayne didn’t let you go, holding you around the waist with one arm instead of two.

You saw Ian and Courtney exchanged glances with Damien, but thought nothing of it, enjoying the feeling of Shayne’s arms around you. You looked up at him, staring into his bright baby blues.

“What do you think the next scene is?” you asked him, leaning into his side. His arm tightened around you.

“I don’t know but I hope it's something to do with dessert,” you said excitedly.

Shayne cocked an eyebrow at you, causing you to realize the secondary meaning to your words. You slapped his pec, unsurprisingly meeting the hard muscle there, before slapping yourself in the face for not realizing it sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” you insisted, separating yourself from him. You crossed your arms over your chest as he laughed at what you had said. You ended up laughing a little as well, walking away from the set and kicking off the heels.

While they were absolutely beautiful, they also made your feet hurt like hell. The assistant, Julia, offered you your casual shoes and you took them, making a mental note to get the woman a gift basket or something sometime in the future.

Ian came up to you as you were sliding on your Crocs, clicking the toes together happily as your feet were enveloped in the surprisingly comfy croslite.

“You ready for this next scene?” Ian asked, taking a sip out of his mug. It was nearing lunchtime now, meaning they had less than an hour to film this next bit.

“Does that mean you’re going to finally let me know what the scene is?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled and patted your back.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, clapping your shoulder. “It’s all improv but you’re both extremely great at that!”

You winced at his tone of voice, not believing him at all yet you allowed him to lead you and Shayne into one of the prop closets, already decked out with studio lights and everything.

The presence of the lights put your mind at ease and considering you were wearing a red dress paired with your bright yellow crocs, you crossed your fingers in hopes that they weren’t about to record anything past waist level.

Ian pushed Shayne into the closet slightly, causing the man to tumble into you. He caught you around the waist while reflexively grabbing hold of a shelf fixed to one of the walls. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks once more, glad that his attention was more focused on making sure the two of you weren’t about to collapse onto the floor right then and there.

Once he got the two of you back on your own two feet, you wheeled around, ready to confront Ian but was met with a closed prop door.

You approached the door knob and twisted it, to find that it was locked. You shook it in hopes that this was one of the closets that would just slide open to no avail. You and Shayne were stuck in the closet with one of the hottest stage lights the company owned.

“We’ll be back in thirty minutes,” you heard Ian call out, the sounds of Courtney and Damien snickering coming from beyond the door.

“You’re dead, Hecox!” you shouted before resigning. “They’re not gonna let us out in thirty, minutes, are they?”

Shayne chuckled, trying to make the best of the situation. He had already made himself comfy on one of the wooden chests.

Then, the stage light shut off and that’s when the panic set in.

“Oh, my God,” you freaked, eyes going wide. The only light was now the half-dead emergency bulb in the ceiling of the prop closet, leaving the both of you in what was essentially the dark. You turned around and started to pound on the door, calling for your boss, Courtney, anybody. At one point, you found yourself calling for the assistant that had followed you around all day.

“We’re going to die in here,” you lamented, leaning up against a wall.

Shayne hopped off the chest and came over to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest.

“We’ll be fine,” he comforted. “It was probably just a blackout. We’ve been getting them around the studios pretty often recently. They’ll probably come back for us in a few minutes when they realize that the building’s powerless.

You nodded, calming yourself down in his arms. He was right. The crew wouldn’t leave you in here during a blackout… would they?

You started to think about how much of a safety and fire hazard leaving the two of you in here would be and started to panic again.

“Shayne,” you whimpered. “What if they can’t get back to us? If the building is on lock down then they wouldn’t be able to use their key cards to get us out and I don’t even think Ian remembers where he put the backup keys and--”

You were cut off by a pair of lips covering yours. You let out a muffled noise of surprise, before closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss. Your hands flew to his hair as he pulled you even closer, if humanly possible.

Now, when someone tells you that the fireworks aren’t real, they probably weren’t doing it right because here, with Shayne, it was like the Fourth of July. You felt the lust, the passion, the absolute adoration for the man that held you in his arms well up inside you until you had to pull away for air.

You pulled back, struggling to regain control over your breathing. You looked up into his brilliant baby blues and searched for a reason behind what he had just done.

“Uh,” he licked his lips, “you were panicking and I had to do something so that you wouldn’t pass out or--”

You cut him off that time, standing up on your toes to meet him with another kiss, just as passionate as the last.

“What was that for?” he asked, when you finally pulled back.

You bit your lip. “I’ve liked you for a long time,” you finally admitted. “And it sucks that it took our coworkers locking us in a room together that I finally grew up and did something about it.”

Shayne glanced at the still-closed doors. “Yeah, those assholes. Forcing me to get kissed twice by the woman that I am deeply infatuated with.”

He kissed you again, laughing as your lips met. You pulled back and kissed his cheek and then down his jaw, settling one last kiss over his lips for good measure.

“You know, we should totally fuck with them,” you proposed, a hint of playfulness behind your eyes. “And then go home and figure this out on our own terms.”

Shayne’s eyes met yours with the same intentions behind his eyes as yours. “Are you thinking that I’m thinking?”

You nodded before kissing him again, and again, and again…

It was forty-five minutes later until your coworkers came to your rescue.

Putting your plan into action, you crossed your arms and turned your head away from him. You were sure there were still black tear marks down your face from when you had started crying earlier, after realizing the power in the building had gone out.

Ian was the first to apologize upon seeing your disheveled state. Thankfully, he had taken the state of your hair and makeup as a sign you were actually distraught. He apologized, along with the others, for locking you in the prop closet in the first place.

You told them it was okay and that you just wanted to go home after the ordeal you had been through.

Surprisingly, you had managed to escape the building an hour later. You met Shayne by your car, giggling as he grabbed you around the waist. He peppered your face with kisses before setting you down, allowing you to unlock your car.

He entered from the other side as you thanked whatever deity was up there for making today one of the days he had decided to carpool with Damien. His excuse was that he was just going to Uber back to his place, seeing as it wasn’t that far from the studio.

Although that was a load of bull, the two of you were heading back to your apartment to work things out.

“Those idiots,” Shayne joked as you pulled out of the lot. “They were none the wiser.”

You laughed as you drove away from the building. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out by tomorrow. After all, I’m your ride in tomorrow.”

Shayne shrugged, reaching over the console to grab your hand. “I’m fine with that. As long as I get you all to myself for tonight.”

“I’m fine with that,” you said, a grin on your face. You would spend an eternity with him if it meant you got moments like these in the future. And you were fine with that.

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lonestarbabe · 3 years

Text

Abandoned Chances

TK talks to his parents about Gwyn’s pregnancy. (AO3)

The words are ringing through T.K.’s head, ripping through him like a bullet, a feeling he knows all too well. “You’re going to be a brother,” his mother had said, and then when T.K. hadn’t been able to process the words, “I’m pregnant, T.K.” He’s not sure what to make of the words. He’s convinced that this is some strange joke. It has to be a joke. He’ll laugh in relief if it is a joke because his parents can’t seriously believe that they’re fit to be parents again.

“You can’t be.” He shakes his head in disbelief because “How is that even possible?” T.K. once wanted a sibling. He’d dreamed of having someone to talk with during the darkest moments of his parent’s marriage, but he realized that wanting a sibling was selfish. It wouldn’t be fair to his brother or sister to bring them into such an unstable situation. He worried that they would be just as unhappy as he was. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. He’d made peace with the fact that his parents were something he’d have to handle alone. It has always felt like his burden alone to carry— the price he has to pay for existing.

“It’s something of a miracle,” Owen says with a grin. It’s a miracle in the way that a heart finally becoming available after months of waiting on the transplant list is a miracle; one family has their prayers answered while another has their nightmares come true.

T.K. watches his dad take his mom’s hand, and it might’ve been a cute gesture if tender moments like that weren’t a countdown to the inevitable disaster that would follow as soon as the excitement turned into the hard reality. Gwyn squeezes Owen’s hand, and T.K. realizes that he is an intruder in their joyous moment. He can’t find it in himself to smile and congratulate them. He wants to. He doesn’t want to make a fuss, but he’s got no control over the surge of emotions that consumes him.

“Did you even think this through?” His parents’ hands disconnect, and they go rigid at T.K.’s tone. “What the hell were you thinking?” He’s never sounded more like a parent.

“T.K., we thought you’d be happy,” his mom tries. “We’re going to try to make things work.” She points between her and Owen. “We’re happy.”

“I don’t know why you thought I’d be happy about this.” T.K. stands up from the chair, unable to stay still. He feels himself start to pace. He’s trying to control his temper, but he’s frenzied and the crazed emotions won’t abate. “Trying isn’t good enough when you have a kid. You have to do more than try.” T.K.’s parents had tried a lot of things. They’d tried to care for T.K. They’d tried to work out their issues. They’d tried to stay afloat. But for all their trying, there wasn’t a lot of action. They wanted to change, but they didn’t put in the work. Owen especially. He wanted a fairytale ending while avoiding the difficult fairytale beginning. He’s always had a way of swooping Gwyn up and pulling her into his fantasy— T.K. too.

Owen has a way of making people believe in him, even when he repeatedly doesn’t follow through. When T.K. was eight, he starred in his school play, and for the whole weekend of the show, T.K. kept thinking that Owen would show up. Even halfway through the Sunday matinee, T.K. was certain his dad would come just as he had promised. Owen had never shown, but T.K. never let go of that small kernel of hope. Even when he should have known better.

“You always wanted a sibling.” He doesn’t even know which one of them said it, but words are throwing themselves off his tongue before he can even try to control them.

“I wanted a sibling because I hated being alone.” He’s never told them how lonely he felt as a kid. He’s not sure if that’s because he didn’t want to hurt their feelings— because he knows they love him— or because he didn’t want them to list a bunch of reasons why he shouldn’t have felt that way.

“Alone? You act as if we left you to fend for yourself without food or care for hours at a time. We always took care of you as well as we could. Just because you didn’t confide—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Dad. The only time you paid attention to me was when you wanted me to declare a winner in your arguments or when I was so fucked up that you had to pay attention.” T.K. doesn’t stop there. “You’re going to fuck up another kid, and I don’t want to watch that happen.” It’s too painful. Owen and Gwyn are already fighting like they used to, and a baby isn’t going to change that. A baby is just another tool they’ll use in their war to best one another. Fighting is like a sport to T.K.’s parents, and they are well suited for those kinds of battles, but that’s not enough for a healthy relationship. The thrill they get from challenging one another doesn’t create intimacy. It doesn’t stop them from destroying the people closest to them as they wrestle to come out on top.

“That’s not fair, son,” Owen says. Son sounds like a slap in the face. Owen’s voice makes T.K. feel like a silly little kid who doesn’t understand how the world works. “Things are different now.” T.K. wonders for a moment if he’s actually the selfish one here. What if he’s deluding himself into thinking his parents are the problem? Maybe they’re right. Maybe he is being unfair. Maybe the real reason he doesn’t want them to have this baby is that he hates the idea that they might not be so bad with this baby. He’s jealous that they’ll love their second chance more than their messed up first. Because how can he ever compete with a baby, pure and unbroken? He wonders if he’s that messed up that he would begrudge his sibling for getting the effort that T.K. never got.

But, then, T.K. remembers all the fighting his parents have been doing since they’ve been in Austin. They haven’t changed. They haven’t even defined what they are. There’s no way that they should have a newborn. “I’m not being unreasonable.”

“Honey, we know this is a lot to process,” his mom says, and T.K. has always liked when she calls him honey. It makes him feel like he matters, but sweet words can’t take away years of hurt he’s tried not to have. He feels guilty for the way he feels because his parents had a lot of issues, but they weren’t monsters. It would be a lot easier to know where he stood if they were villains rather than normal people who do incredible things.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” T.K. insists.

“I know this is a shock, but it’s our second chance to be a real family, T.K.. Your dad and I want to give this a shot.”

“A second chance? Not everyone deserves a second chance.” He takes a breath. “You only get a second chance when you’ve already given up on your first chance.”

“We never gave up on you.”

“You can’t even admit that you screwed up your first chance. ‘We made mistakes,’ that’s what you always say, and yeah, that’s true. You made a lot of mistakes, but the thing that drives me crazy. You blame those mistakes on circumstances. It always goes back to 9/11, but that doesn’t excuse away all the wrong choices you made. 9/11 was one day. What’s your excuse for all the other days?”

“Do you know how many—" and T.K. can’t let Owen finish that sentence. He’ll explode if he tries to push all the feelings that he has back into himself yet again. The stakes have never been higher, so if he’s going to lose his cool, it might as well be now.

“Would you listen to me for once?” T.K. asks, the weight of years of unsaid words pushing down on his chest.

“Fine,” Owen says. His voice is terse, but at least he’s allowing a conversation.

“I’m angry at you,” T.K.’s directing his words mostly toward Owen. He’d always gone easier on his dad than he did his mom. When he was a teenager, he’d blamed his mom for everything. He got angry at her when his dad wasn’t there than to question why T.K.’s hero kept letting him down.

“I always wanted to be just like you, Dad. You know that. From the time I was old enough to say what I wanted to be, I wanted to be a firefighter.” T.K. sat back down on the chair. “Then, 9/11 happened, and I was scared of losing you. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t focus. Whenever you were gone, all I could think about was you not coming back, so when I most needed you to be there. You weren’t.”

“I couldn’t help that. They needed me.”

“I needed you, but you always put the firehouse first, and you’d do it again in a heartbeat because that’s how you are. You can’t let go of what you lost, so what you already have always takes the back burner.” His mom had always been busy, but he always knew that she would take care of him. Half the time, he didn’t know if his dad would even show up. It’s not like Owen was absent from his life, but even when he was with T.K., he wasn’t emotionally present.

“When I was a kid, of course, I wanted to be a firefighter because I wanted to be like you. You were what I thought every man should be, but as I got older, being a firefighter wasn’t about being like you. All I wanted was to be a part of your life. I knew I’d never be what you put first, but I figured that if I could be part of that thing that it would be close enough.”

“T.K.,” Owen’s voice cracks, “You’ve always been the most important part of my life.”

“I know you love me,” T.K. says, even though that love doesn’t always feel unconditional, “but words don’t cost anything, Dad. You can say them all you want, but until you stand behind those words while fire blazes and the world goes to hell, they don’t mean anything. You can’t bring someone into this world, telling them that they mean the world to you, and then put the whole world above them.”

“What are you trying to say?” Gwyn asks for clarification.

“I’m saying that it’s selfish to have a baby because you miss the good times. When you’re making this decision, don’t think about the joyful moments. Think of when things become a challenge. You’ve got to be ready to not just put their needs before you when things are going well, but you’ve got to make that commitment when times are hard because it’s that shit that separates loving parents from good parents.”

“Were we really that bad?” Owen asks.

“The problem is that you haven’t changed.”

“Your dad and I can be in the same room without murdering each other,” Gwyn tries at humor.

“That isn’t funny,” T.K. says, feeling exhausted. If he’s being honest, he might as well get it all off his chest at once before they go back to pretending that they’re all fine— just a happy but unconventional family. “You still put me in the middle of your fights, wanting me to take a side. I don’t want to choose a side. I love you both, and it’s not fair to make me choose when you two are arguing just for the sport of it. What makes you think that your relationship will survive more than a few months? You’ve ignored all the reasons you got a divorce in the first place.”

“We can work on that.”

“If you couldn’t work out your issues for me, what makes you think this new child will be any different?” T.K. knew that sometimes it was better for couples to call it quits than to prolong the uncertain inevitable. He felt relief when his parents had finally made it official. He’d always secretly wanted them to get back together, but the logical part of him knew that they were better apart. “You don’t even live in the same half of the country. If things go wrong, we’re not just talking about living a few blocks apart. We’re talking hundreds of miles.”

Gwyn sighs. She reaches her hand out, “You seem so sure that things aren’t going to work.”

“I had a front-row seat the first time your relationship broke down. How is it different now?” Owen and Gwyn look between each other, searching for an answer. “See? I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”

“It sounds like you are.”

“No,” T.K. corrects, “All I’m doing is telling you what you need to hear before you commit to this because children deserve to feel safe and loved.” He looks up at his parents. “And it’s not right to bring a child into this world to recreate moments you feel like you’ve lost.” T.K. knows that he can’t force their hand. He can’t tell them what they should do, but it wouldn’t feel right to let them have a baby on a whim.

The smiles have fallen off his parents’ faces, and T.K. can’t help the guilt that worms its way into his body. He feels like a jerk. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” he says, still trying to temper their feelings. He worries that he was too honest. He almost regrets having opened his mouth. This is why it’s easier to keep his mouth shut, make jokes, and stew in his anger.

His mom gets up, stoops to his level, and puts her arm around him. “You’ll always be my baby.” Her embrace is warm, but the anxiety doesn’t lift from T.K.’s stomach. “We both love you so much. That’s one thing we’ve never disagreed on.”

Owen agrees, “You’re the best thing we’ve ever done together.” T.K. can’t help but think that’s a lie because he’ll always be the chance they abandoned.

#text #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #My writing #Elise Writes #My Fics #1000 - 3000 words

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panic-at-the-fiction · 3 years

Text

Hello Darling pt6

Summary: (y/n) is the Salvatore younger sister, and she is low-key in love with one of the originals. You know which one. The only problem is he is a low-key psychopath and neither of them remember that this isn’t their first meeting.

Warnings: I ain’t got nothing to warn this time and less you count language.

A/N: I’m so happy I get to write this one Finally! You're all gonna hate me one day. Trust me. Also I want to be clear. When I started writing this Matt was not a dick. I want to say that (y/n) Salvatore would never be friends with modern Matt Donovan. She was friends with normal Matt who was captain of the football team and just wanted to stay away from vamps.

It had been almost a month since you last saw Kol and life had gone on just like it always had. Damon trying to kill the originals, the originals trying to kill Damon, Stefan was in there somewhere, Elena made decisions for other people and then bitched about people not letting her make her own decisions, etc etc.

But things were going better for you now. You Damon and Stefan began an unspoken agreement to eat lunch together every Sunday. Just like your mom used to make you do. It wasn’t always fancy but every week you went over to the bordering house and brought some sort of food with you, usually take out. But it was a nice peace offering between the three of you.

It was another average Sunday morning and you were about to leave to go get yours and your brother lunches. You were shocked when you opened your door to find Damon and Elena in your hallway.

It was an odd sight at the least. You didn’t hate Elena as much as you used to because you knew she was important to your brother. Like you said the lunches were helping you all get along.

“Hey guys I was just about to head on over to the house for lunch.” You locked your door behind you.

“Sorry sis but lunch is canceled for the day. We’re going on a road trip. Care to join us?”

“No offense Damon but I don’t think the three of us being in an enclosed space for long periods of time is a good idea.”

“Even if we’re going to visit your best bud in Denver? Come on don’t tell me you're over Jeremy moving already after all the bitching to us about it.”

You wanted to be mad about the bitching comment but how could you? They're going to see Jeremy. Your closest friend. And Damon actually thought about you. He knew you wanted to see Jeremy and came by to tell you he was going to do just that. He probably needed you for something but you didn’t care.

Despite yourself you walked over and hugged your oldest brother. He seemed taken aback by your affection, but he didn’t push you away.

You went back into your apartment and packed a small bag before walking outside and tossing it in Damon’s car.

The ride lasted a lifetime but no one tried to kill anyone so over it all it went great. You all got to your destination in one piece.

Elena had to ask around but you had finally tracked Jeremy down to the local batting cages.

“You know next time we compel him lets at least make him better at baseball.” Damon huffed out and Elena smacked him lightly on the chest.

You ran over to the batting cage he was practicing in. “Hey Gilbert!” You shouted at him through the fence. He smiled when he saw you behind him and walked out to greet you guys.

He’s smile dropped when he saw his sister and your brother. He knew you wouldn’t have driven here with them unless something bad had happened. “(Y/n), Elena, Damon. What’s wrong?”

Damon began to tell the whole story. He told him about the sire lines and what happens if an original is killed, he even told him about Rose and how she fit into all of this. You didn’t really care about their mission to talk to Rose so you just stood back and waited for them to finish up.

Jeremy looked over at you and his sister. “So you three all drove in a car together just to get me to talk to a dead vampire? Well I’m sorry guys but I can’t. I could only talk to Anna and Vicky because I knew them. I never met this rose.”

“What good´s you coming back to life if you can’t talk to a ghost when I need you too?”

“Listen here Rose spent a lot of time running from Klaus as well she and Damon were close, so we think maybe we can use him as a connection.”

You started to drown them out as you saw a fissure walking towards you. The sun was in your eyes but you were somehow sure it was Kol. You must have been hallucinating.

You finally snapped back to reality for a second as Jeremy spoke up again. “Can we do this later my friend just got here and yes Damon I do have some of those.” He pushed by Elena, and she turned around to see Jeremy's friend.

She gasped “Damon, it's Kol!”

Just as Damon turned around, Kol swung the bat in his hand and knocked Damon to the ground breaking the bat in half.

Shocked Jeremy yelled at his so-called friend. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Jeremy get back he’s an original!” Elena said, trying to warn her brother.

“No hard feelings mate, but we’re not buds.” Kol just smirked as he picked out a new bat and turned to face you. You were seething with rage. You knew exactly how Kol had gotten here, and he had used you. “You can thank your good friend (y/n) for helping me find you little Gilbert.”

He twirled his new bat in his hands. “You know I’ll never get used to aluminum but hey at least it won't break.” He pulled the bat back preparing to swing again at your brother who was still trying to get up after the first blow.

You quickly picked a piece of the broken bat off the ground and shoved it into Kols chest before he could hit Damon again. “Dick” you said, basically spitting in his face. He collapsed on the ground at your feet and you stepped over his body. Reaching to help Damon on the ground.

“Did you kill him?” Jeremy asked, eyeing the original laying on the ground.

“No, but it will give us a head start.” You said directing the group to the car.

Barely ten minutes down the road Damon started banging his fist on the steering wheel “Dammit I can’t believe that psychopath followed us all the way here.”

“I know I can’t believe he found Jeremy here. After we did all that to send Jeremy away to keep him safe from everything back home. I just don’t see how they could have known where he was.” Elena said not seeming to realize you and Jeremy were in the back seat.

“Wait what do you mean you sent me away? I chose to move to Denver”.

Elena's face dropped now that she realized her mistake in words. You laughed, you had been waiting to tell Jeremy the truth for months. “Oh you see Jeremy, Elena had Damon compel you again so that you would want to move to Denver.” You watched as the two avoided eye contact with Jeremy.

“You compelled me again! After how much I hated it last time and how angry I was at you! You did it again!”

“It was the right thing to do Jeremy we needed to keep you safe.”

“You can’t keep taking away my free will. It wasn’t your decision to make. I can handle myself, Elena. You always think you know best for everyone but don’t!”

The car fell silent again before Jeremy pipped back up. “Kol didn’t follow you guys here. He’s been here for weeks. I met him a month ago.”

Elena turned around to face you as she remembered what Kol had said earlier. “What did he mean by we could thank you for him finding Jeremy (y/n)?” judgement in her voice.

You knew it was your fault for today. You trusted Kol and that was on you. “If you must know Elena I told Kol where Jeremy was. I didn’t realize he would run off and tell his brother about it.”

“What do you mean you told Kol? How could you tell a psychopath where my brother was! Did he compel you or something?”

You pushed your anger down and just rolled your eyes. “Usually Elena when I sleep with a guy and then open up to him about my problems he doesn’t run home and tell his big brother everything I said.”

Damon immediately slammed on the brakes causing you all to jerk forward in your seats. “You slept with the maniac!”

“Who are you to judge Damon? You slept with Rebekah.”

Elena's eyes widened “You slept with Rebekah?”

“That was weeks ago after the Mikaelson ball. That doesn’t count. I didn’t tell her specific information about our plans.”

You were once again boiling with anger. This time not just at Kol for using you but for Elena and Damon. “I can’t do this. I’m walking.” You quickly got out of the car on the side of the road.

Damon followed behind you. “Where do you think you're going?”

“To the diner I saw a mile back.” You called back walking away from him.

“We have to talk to rose!”

“Then call me when you find somewhere to stay and I’ll get a cab.”

Jeremy jumped out of the car and started to walk in the same direction as you. “I’ll go with her and keep an eye out.”

Elena stuck her head out of the window of the car. “Jeremy don’t. Get back in the car.”

He laughed “or what? You’ll have Damon compel me?” You waited for Jeremy to catch up with you and the two of you started to walk in the opposite direction of your annoying siblings.

Defeated Damon and Elena drove off without you two.

You and Jeremy walked in silence until you finally reached the dinner you had passed earlier. You two set down and ate before you even started talking.

“Are we gonna talk about what happened with you and this Kol dude?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I slept with him, let it slip where you were, and he went after you. What’s done is done.”

“I think he mentioned you to me. When he was pretending to be my friend he talked about a girl from his hometown that he liked but his family didn’t approve, and they were too powerful, so he just thought it would be best if he stayed away and didn’t care.”

“Well he got the not caring part right. He’s not staying away though. He’s probably chasing us as we speak.”

Jeremy laughed “Well I think a part of his psychotic mind actually likes you.”

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket. Damon was calling you.

“And that’s our cue to leave.” He said, pulling out his wallet and asking for the check. Meanwhile you answered Damon’s call and wrote down the address of a hotel, he gave you before calling a taxi to come pick you two up.

Whatever did happen between you and Kol didn’t matter now. Whether he cared or not he betrayed you and you were going to give him hell for it.

Hey guys so just wanna say thank you for like this story so much I’m glad people have actually been seeing it. I’m sorry I’ve been inconsistent with it I’m trying to write more but I just got my heart ripped from my chest and I’m working on that right now so yeah. Hope you like the chapter.

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x (y/n)#kol mikaelson x reader #kol x (y/n)#kol x reader #kol x you #vampire diaries #vampire diaries x reader

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puppypeter · 3 years

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1999 words Stucky prompt? *sorry*

Ok so I couldn’t go to sleep last night because I kept thinking of this Stucky AU where Steve is an ex-military medic who is now retired because his wife passed away and he has to look after the family. He has like 10-12 kids between his own and adopted, big family, big house, a dog. The kids range between barely 1 year old set of twins to grumpy teenagers. He had to come back from war when his wife sadly passed away while giving birth to the twins and so he didn’t really get any time to re-adjust and he lives with the regret that he wasn’t even there for her when she needed him. He is struggling a lot, but tries to hide it for the sake of the kids. He runs the house a bit like a military base, there’s time tables, bathroom times, meal plans and menus, budgets etc wakes the troops up early in the morning to get them ready for school (he still struggles in the kitchen cause he’s barely used to having decent food again himself, let alone make something all kids eat!!), the oldest have to help with the youngest etc a big chaotic disaster of a family, but he’s trying. The kids miss their mom too, but it’s been a year now and daddy is still sad. He doesn’t know that they know he is. They see him stare into nothing at times, they know Sunday mornings are the day nobody is to bother daddy until he comes down for lunch (which he prepared on the Saturday already) because sometimes daddy finds it hard to sleep and other times he finds it hard to get out of bed. He always wants them to eat their greens, yet standing on the staircase late at night they’ve spotted him sitting on the couch eating ice-cream straight from the tub and weeping over Disney movies. And that has happened more than once.

So one day they’re at the park. Steve is laying down on their red and white cloth on the ground with all the food bags and the tiny twins next to him. They’re so cute, wiggling around at all the sounds and colours, he should want to play with them but all he feels is tired. The other kids are scattered around the park, between playing ball and looking at insects and on the swings. The younger kids have been talking about what they should do to make daddy happy. That’s when little Mary spots two men sitting on a bench. One of them is playing with a leash, probably of the big dog that’s just sitting at his feet, not even caring about going far. The other is wearing a leather jacket, slightly unzipped and a white furry kitten head pops out of it. “Which one of them do you think?” Peter asks. “That one!” Mary shouts just pointing at the guy with the kitten “look at his hair! he looks like a disney price, dad will love him!” (they don’t even know their dad is bisexual, bucky is just pretty so they’re confident he’ll like him).

So her and some of her siblings make their way over to the men and start asking them questions. Their names are Sam and Bucky (“That’s a weird name” Mary says). Sam teases Bucky by calling him prince charming, having heard the previous comment, and Bucky’s cheeks go pink. This little boy with his thick glasses on gets overly excited when he sees that one of Bucky’s hands is made of metal “So cool, like a robot!” and asks if he can touch it (cause daddy thought them it’s important to ask before). And Bucky just feels overwhelmed. He hasn’t been around this many people since he came back, the most people he’s had around were a bunch of doctors when they operated on him roughly a year and half ago, but he was sedated and unaware. He struggled for a while to get out of the house, to accept his disability, accept having a prosthesis he can’t really do anything with, having to learn to do everything one handed (he only ever wears it outside the house cause he doesn’t want people to stare at his empty sleeve, but the moment he’s at home he likes to give his shoulder a break).

Sam, he works as a counsellor at the VA has helped him a lot, and now they hang out together, but not in crowded places. This is why they like coming to the park. But now there’s a bunch of kids in his face and for the first time he doesn’t mind having many people around. Maybe because they’re little people and he knows they won’t hurt him. Maybe cause one of them is geeking out about his prosthesis he always felt self-conscious about. Mary invites him over to meet her dad (Sam cackles), but Bucky is definitely not ready for any form of relationship, let alone a romantic one. So he blushes and declines.

The kids leave a bit upset. After a while Mary comes back saying she’s hurt and lost. “You look fine to me kid!” Sam replies. So she dramatically throws herself on the grass and big fat tears start coming out of her eyes. After they laugh at her overly dramatic attitude, she stands up huffing and puffing and leaves clearly kicking her feet in the ground. “I mean maybe you should go for it!” Sam insists “It’s not like you have to marry the guy. You’re just meeting a new person, nothing has to come of it. Maybe you’ll make a friend, maybe you’ll never see him again, but you’d talk to someone that wasn’t me or the cashier at the deli by your flat”. Bucky knows that’s true, but he really can’t bring himself to. He still hasn’t talked to his family since he’s been back. Something about getting your arm blow off and seeing your mates blow up when it should have been you instead makes it difficult to relate to normal people.

It’s only maybe 20 minutes later when a blur of blonde hair and orange dungaree comes rushing towards them crying. “It ain’t gonna work missy!” Sam jokes. But Mary looks clearly upset. “Help my daddy please!”. They doubt her for a second, thinking it’s her amazing acting skills and they’re gonna go there and her dad is gonna be fine. But her lower lip is wobbling and she sounds seriously distressed. Plus they all see a bunch of kids clearly surrounding someone sitting on a blanket. So they follow her, cause that’s the right thing to do. When they get there they see this big burly man folded in half on himself with his hands in his hair, gripping at it, shaking, panicking. Sam immediately drops on his knees, but doesn’t touch him yet. Bucky has seen him do it plenty of times with himself, when he barely got out of bed to finally have some food and then started crying if he dropped a spoon on the floor or spilled a bit of coffee. He would be forever thankful to have had him as a counsellor and now as a friend.

Bucky steers the kids a bit away, asking the older ones to give them some space to help their dad. Together with a young woman, he scoops up one of the two babies in onesies that were on the blanket and leans one up on his chest. He can’t really do much with his metal arm, but geeky kid is currently holding onto it. After they move a bit further away, he passes on the baby to another older teenager and goes back to Sam. He sees that he has managed to get the man to unclench his fists from his hair and sees him panicking when he can’t see his kids. “They’re alright, they’re ok, they’re all together”.

And so that’s how they meet and they all go to a diner to get food (taking over like 4 different booths). They find out Steve is ex-military from the dog tags shape Bucky sees under his shirt. Steve has apparently had the ability to lie his way through his psych test coming back from the war simply because he knew he would lose his kids if he admitted how he was truly feeling. He is struggling with depression and has PTSD, but he’ll never admit it out loud. He has a family to care about. He says none of that, but Sam knows. He invites him to the VA, “just to talk, we’re not gonna call anyone on you my man, and it seems like you’re doing an amazing job considering you got a whole football team”.

The following week Sam and Bucky go over to his house for a bbq, bringing dog & cat along for the joy of the kids. It’s loud and it gets a bit much for Bucky at one point so he sneaks out to have a second of quiet. Steve finds him and they get talking. At some point Sam has to leave, an emergency with one of the veterans. But Bucky stays a little while.

He says he can leave when Steve calls out bed time for the youngest, but Steve asks him to stay, if he wants, it’s not gonna take him long, have a beer. Bucky glows seeing how Steve runs the bedtime routine for 10 kids, the older ones helping the younger ones to get to stay up a little longer. When he comes back they sit out back on the porch, sharing a cigarette and having a couple of beers. It’s quiet, they don’t talk much. Bucky’s shoulder is starting to ache a bit so he keeps rubbing it. They get talking about that, well.. the most that Bucky can say (how it happened, where it happened, then blackout. He can’t go into his feelings about it). “You.. you were from that unit?” Steve asks seemingly speechless. “That’s, that’s where I was operating. We rescued 3 people but we couldn’t get to everyone on time. There was someone closer to the explosion and their arm was….” he cuts off. “Steve” Bucky looks at him unable to breathe “are you telling me that you’re the one that rescued me from under the tank?” ((and it goes from there. it takes awhile but they get together and smooch (Mary acts like she’s about to throw up “But not because you’re two guys, just cause that’s daddy!!”). Bucky learns to open up and getting more comfortable around Steve without the prosthesis on. Steve still cries at Disney movies while eating ice cream, but this time every other spoonful goes to Bucky’s, whose arms he’s wrapped in on the couch. Steve starts going to see Sam at the VA and deal with his issues, because he wants to be there for his kids as they grow up, he doesn’t want to give up on them or himself. He deals and accepts what happened with his wife. He gets to grieve and heal. Sam comes over to their house so that his Missy (his dog) can hang out with her new buddy Dodger *wink wink* and because since starting to deal with his issues Steve has made an effort to reconnect with his friends and there’s a very beautiful redhead that hangs around his house at the weekends... Sam wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. A few more friends from the military come back into his life too - Clint, Thor, Maria, Sharon - and the kids have now a bunch more aunties and uncles to play with. At some point in the distant future, Bucky moves in. He never thought he’d get to have that. A big family, animals, a house. Maybe they have more kids at one point? Bucky reconnecting with his family? & lots more smooches and cuddles!!))

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