#professional butt business man Link hours | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magicalshitposts · 3 years

Text

Now that it's canon and I've talked it through with @redshift-corridor I think I'm gonna share my Robbie's eating problem headcanon.

Big big big TW for eating disorders (in detail), throwing up, passing out, being unhealthily thin and having near death experience

Smaller TW for drug and alcohol use

All of this will be under the cut!

Robbie Canonically having a problem with food kinda got me back into the HC that I made a good while ago. Because it was such a small HC that I was thought was very unlikely in the long term, I didn't put much thought into it.

I have now put some thought into it

After doing research into Eating Disorders, there is one by the name of ARFID, which stands for ‘Avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder’. It’s pretty much an umbrella term for a lot of unspecified EDs so has a lot of signs (not all of them will apply to the person). The traits I took note of were

Missing meals completely, especially when busy with something else.

Finding it difficult to recognise when hungry.

Feeling full after only a few mouthfuls and struggling to eat more.

Taking a long time over mealtimes/finding eating a ‘chore’.

Weight loss

This was definitely what I associated with Robbie.

This is a headcanon for a different post but It’s vital to know mental health is not taken seriously in my version Hyrule, It’s not taken at all. There are no therapists, no doctors, nothing.

It starts in his early childhood. He was never much on an eater as a kid, only getting through a bit of breakfast and lunch before saying he wasn't hungry for dinner. That was more or less fine though. He had a few snacks throughout the day and was a small boy anyway, his parents never really caught on.

It was moving out that became a problem. Now he didn’t have his parents to remind him to eat, he didn’t. He would have a meal here and there but it was a smaller amount than a grown man needed. His body adjusted to it, his stomach shrinking in size to regulate the lack of food. Then he meets Purah and it all goes down hill. There is a thing, that while isn’t a symptom of ARFID, I do associate with Robbie. He doesn’t like to eat around others. It takes him a long time to be able to feel comfortable enough to do that. Him and Purah move in together straight away, and he does end up getting comfortable, but straight after they are thrown into a war, which is where the big problem starts.

Onto the bulk of it.

No one at work really notices that this is an issue because no one knows him all to well, they all just assume he doesn’t have Lunch. Purah obviously knows and she already concerned. Not a huge amount but enough to give him gentle reminders to eat, his answer to that is ‘thanks doll, but I ain’t too hungry’.

Another HC that is kind of important is my Robbie both drinks alcohol and smokes herb religiously. If he’s not working he’s drunk or high or still working. He has a very high alcohol tolerance, so it takes him a lot to get drunk, but because he’s drinking on an empty stomach, the alcohol comes back up after every couple of drinks. And with smoking, Herb (here's some info on herb) makes you really hungry which is great! He’s eating! Then Purah realises its the only time he’s eating, which is a bit of an issue.

This is when he starts to pass out and throw up. He passes out from hunger every couple of days but recovers from in really quick. He’s back up in an hour. It becomes so frequent however that employees (that aren’t Purah) just move him to the closest wall and carry on working. He throws up literally every time he eats when he’s sober because his body is reacting badly to the sudden intake of food.

Purah then bans him from fieldwork due to sickness. If he faints on the field, whatever he’s doing isn’t going to stop for him, and she is not letting her best friend die, especially on her hands. So he was tied to his desk. That means he’s getting very little exercise as field work was his only form of it. And due to field work he was a very built person. When that stopped, he lost muscle mass and Purah saw how bad he looked. He was gaunt in the face, his arms and legs looked like they could snap at any moment. He looked old and skinny and it was a ungodly sight.

Then the big thing happened. The final battle was taking place as they spoke which meant they had been slumped under with work. They had no time off, which meant no recreational drugs like herb, which meant no eating. Robbie hadn’t eaten for about 2 weeks. Purah thought he was doing well, every time she asked him, ‘did you eat?’, he’d lie and say yes just to get her off his back. And he had been so high of off adrenaline from work, he hadn’t passed out. From an outsider’s perspective, he was improving. Then he passed out again. Then he didn’t wake up after the hour. Many workers believed he was in a Coma, as he was clearly still alive but unresponsive. After 2 days he finally woke up, and Purah had had enough. She was ready to snap, he had lied to her face multiple times and could’ve nearly died.

She finally makes him visit Mipha (who becomes a doctor after the calamity) , who sends him to Gerudo town who harbours the only family of mental health professionals in Hyrule (who are very underground as they aren't trained). They keep him with them for a few days to start him off. He gets a food diary and is told to try and maintain a diet of two small snacks a day. Just to get his stomach used to food again. From that they plan to build up his diet. He never gets to 3 meals a day. The most he has is a morning snack (which is clearly breakfast but he refuses to call it that) and an evening meal. It takes him about 40 minutes to eat his morning snack (two slices of toast) and an hour and a half to two to eat his evening meal.

He never gets back to where he was. To as strong as he used to be. After his body gets used to food, he takes training back up. He begins to train with Impa but she's pushy and demanding and he's stubborn and weak so they butt heads a lot. Instead Impa changes places with Link, who is kind, patient and motivating. Robbie slowly starts to build up his strength (and in turn back up his battle skills). His body is still thin but he's getting better, and the steps count, no matter how big they are

I know that was incredibly dark but a lot of the best headcanons are in my opinion. I made sure to do my research on the topic but if I got anything wrong please correct me!

28 notes · View notes

sirkkasnow · 4 years

Text

16 Hang Onto A Good Thing With Both Hands

Ao3 link

7/29/13-7/30/13 Monday-Tuesday

Stan came to by slow degrees, warmer than usual, and peeled up an eyelid to survey the usual morning blur. His view was interrupted by what he decided was an eyebrow.

He kissed that lightly, then the orbit of the slumbering eye beneath it, then the bridge of the nose.

Clary was just beginning to stir as he drew her into his arms and left a stubbly trail of smooches along her cheekbone and down to the corner of her mouth. Her lashes fluttered and it took a moment for her to focus.

Eventually she smiled, soft and contented, and pulled herself in to rub her nose against his. “Hello, handsome.”

“Good mornin’, gorgeous.” She straight-up grinned at that. They tangled lazy limbs together under the blankets and traded stray kisses through the drowsy stupor of waking.

After a while his palm drifted to her hip, fingers fanning out to confirm that yes, she really did have a butt as nice as those sculpted legs. Clary’s eyes opened slowly; she studied him in knowing amusement as he tinted pink.

“Is that your hand on my ass?”

“Maybe? It’s gotta go somewhere, right?”

“Mmhm.” She caught hold of his shoulder, pushed as she rose to pin him flat to the mattress, kissed him breathless and then wriggled out of his grasp like a determined eel while he was too discombobulated to put up a fight.

“Ah, c’mon, please, five more minutes,” Stan protested. Clary plunked his glasses onto his chest and he caught them on reflex.

“Sorry, sailor, but you promised you’d behave.”

“Five more minutes and y’won’t want me to.” Stan managed to hook the glasses into place and leered up as she swung her legs over and pivoted, perched neatly on the edge of his bed.

“That’s almost certainly true, which is why I’m going to head downstairs and get breakfast started.”

“Damn shame.”

“Just leaving you some incentive to come ashore sooner than later.” She corralled the bedhead chaos of her hair into its elastic, then leaned over to stroke the prickly line of his jaw. He turned into the contact, eyes half closed. “Besides, I guarantee that Mabel got the others on the trail early.”

“They’re almost six hours out - ” He paused, then dragged a hand down his face with a groan. “No, y’got a point. They’ll make it before lunch. She’s relentless. What time is it?”

“Quarter to eight. Eggs, potatoes, onions okay?”

“C’mon, like one flapjack?”

Clary’s smile flashed wide and she tapped him under the chin. “Pancakes on the side, you got it. See you in a few.” She strutted barefoot out the door with the bicentennial brandy dangling from one hand, filching his fancy Northwest Manor towel on the way past.

He wondered if she was always going to be this obnoxiously chipper in the morning. Having a chance to find out didn’t really sound so bad, though.

Stan swung by the office before he wandered back around to the kitchen. Clary manned a couple of skillets at the stovetop with professional ease. He dropped off a heavy folder on the table and slid in behind to loop an arm around her waist. “You’re gonna burn the onions.”

“If you keep nibbling on me like that, I just might burn the onions.” She didn’t, even with Stan unwilling to let go through the whole process, shifting to follow when she reached for the salt or the spatula. They devoured every crumb with little to say, slouched comfortably in their chairs. Her feet rested against his slippers under the table.

“Wanna give me a hand puttin’ that bottle back?”

“Find me a telephone book or something and I’ll do it.” Clary had a much easier time of it on the countertop. They came up with a couple massive cans of crushed tomatoes for her to balance on, Stan’s steadying hands at her ankles as she followed his instructions to get the hidden cabinet open and shove the brandy as far back as she could manage.

“All right, kid. One last job for the Shack’s honorary accountant before I cut y’loose for the season.” She picked her way back down the stepstool with a hand on his shoulder for balance, cocking a curious brow, and he nodded over to the table. “Got the receipts for ya.”

“Oh-ho. I’ve been wondering how we did.” Stan slid the folder over. Clary fished out her phone, pulled up some calculator thing, and her fingers started to fly.

She counted money as efficiently as any casino bunny, fwip fwip fwip fwip, slapping down the bills in mounting piles and sliding each into place below scrawled scraps designating Greasy’s, picnic supplies, servers, food. Stan sipped his coffee and watched in happy fascination. Every now and then she’d swipe a thumb along the edge of her tongue for traction on the paper.

“What’re you looking at,” Clary murmured after a few minutes.

“Two of the most beautiful things I’ve laid eyes on in years.”

Her lips twitched up at a corner. “And what are those?”

“A huge pile of honest money, and you.” He was coming to love pulling a blush out of her. “Where’d a paper-pusher learn how to count like that?”

“Wasn’t always a lawyer, darling.”

By the time she was done the stack of unassigned cash had grown a couple inches high. She flipped her phone around so he could whistle at the number, then scooped up the whole heap and riffled the bills with a sharp grin. “I’ll give you this much, you weren’t kidding about the summer money burning holes in everyone’s pockets.”

“Wouldn’t’ve pulled it off without our star attraction.” Stan raised his coffee mug in salute. ‘That’s all you, princess. Enjoy the fruits of your labor an’ all that.”

Her brow creased. “Really? Did Soos get anything off the top? I know we covered expenses.”

“Nah, he insisted. Gonna have to work on that.”

Clary squared the stack of profits, counted off three slim groups of a hundred bucks each, then placed the rest in the middle of the table. “Could you split that? Half for Soos, half for the kids.” She frowned for a moment. “Half for the kids’ college accounts, anyway, or a car fund or something. That might be a bit much for summer allowance.”

“You sure?”

“I didn’t do it for the money, Stan.” Her bare toes skimmed lightly up his shin under the table and he couldn’t help but twitch. “Besides, I’m definitely going home with the grand prize.”

“Fine. Fine, I’ll give it all to these ingrates you’re not even gonna see again for like a year, if you’re even willin’ t’come back to Gravity Falls, if I’m even back here anytime soon - ” The bluster did a lousy job of covering his blush but watching her grin as he scooped up the cash and stuffed it back in its envelope was well worth it.

“I might be. The place is growing on me.”

“Yeah, like a fungus,” he muttered, and she chuckled under her breath. “What’s that for?”

“These?” Clary picked up the three skinny stacks. “Hosts’ pay.” She slapped one down in front of Stan, tucked the second into her pocket and waved the third in front of his eyes. “And you’re taking me to dinner next time.”

“I thought you were pickin’ up the tab!”

“I’ll get the drinks, but dinner’s on you.” She winked and plopped the last few bills down. “All right, we’d better get decent before Mabel comes tearing in here hoping to catch us in flagrante.”

They cut it close, splitting up to get dressed and sharing the bathroom mirror for final touches. Her kerchief for the day was a thrift-store find, a riot of abstract hearts in shades of pink. By eleven they reconvened at the kitchen.

Stan settled down for a second cup of coffee. Clary glanced up from the ingredients for one last sour cream coffee cake as they heard the side door slam open and footsteps pelting up the stairs. “AHA!” came down along with the sound of another door banging against the wall, followed by “Darn it!”

Ford stuck his head through the doorway as the racket clattered back downstairs and turned down the hallway leading to Clary’s storage room. “Good morning, you two.” He and Clary exchanged a measured look. “Everything all right, Stanley?”

“Oh, we’re great, talked it all out, had a real nice evenin’.”

“AHA!” Bang. “Darn it!”

“Excellent! Fantastic, even! Precisely what I was hoping to hear!” Ford’s cautious expression cracked wide open and he grinned as he clasped Clary’s shoulder. “Welcome to the Pines circle, my dear, I’m afraid things may get rather odd from here on out but it’s a delight to have you aboard. Dipper, my boy! May I borrow your phone?”

Dipper shuffled through the doorway, holding up his phone for Ford to swipe on the way past. He dropped into the seat opposite Stan and rested his head on the table. “Morning, everyone.”

Clary pulled a warm plate of leftover pancakes out of the oven and set it in front of him. “Good morning, Dipper.”

“AHA!” Mabel skidded into the kitchen, blinked at Stan and Clary, then folded her arms with a deepening pout. “Oh, darn it, are you guys a thing yet or what?!”

That was about it for peace and quiet.

Stan slunk out of the kitchen as soon as he could get away with it, abandoning Clary to Mabel’s insistent interrogation. They’d need dinner eventually, and like hell he was going to let Clary cook again on her last night in the place, so he kept himself busy scraping ash and charred grease out of the neglected charcoal grill. As a result he had a perfect vantage point to watch Soos’ second batch of Monday tourists out on the grounds.

He also had a perfect view of a much newer but still decaled Tate-and-Backle pickup truck rolling in. McGucket scrambled down from the passenger side to meet up with Ford and a bemused Clary at her station wagon. They popped open the hood and both front doors, and McGucket started explaining the upgrades they’d made at a speed that would’ve been confusing even in easy earshot.

Stan tuned much of it out, watching warily to make sure nothing blew up, until he was distracted by a trickle of further arrivals. Grenda and Candy turned up on bicycles. Pacifica hopped out of a sleek black car, trailed by the driver lugging a heavy tote bag. They took over a corner of the yard to set up what proved to be a full-on badminton set. Mabel barreled out of the house a few minutes later with the battered box containing the lawn darts.

“Looks like we’re gonna have another picnic!” Soos ambled over with a bucket full of grill tools. “I’ll finish this up, Mr. Pines, there’re plenty of hot dogs in the deep freeze.”

Stan was streaked with soot to the elbows by now. “Yeah, fine by me, about time someone else took care of cookin’.” He glanced over to the Fairlane. Clary leaned against a fender with arms folded, engaged in intense conversation with both Ford and McGucket. With no idea what that was about, he headed in to scrub up.

By the time he wandered back out Wendy had arrived and was casually swatting a birdie over the badminton net. Pacifica and Dipper were lined up on the far side, both dashing desperately to keep up with smacking it back.

Clary sat on the battered old couch, legs stretched out, ankles crossed. Stan dropped into place alongside her and she tipped into his space a bit as the springs creaked under his weight. They traded a fleeting glance; Stan extended his arm along the top cushions and she settled easily into its curve.

“So, you and Stan, huh?” Wendy batted the birdie over the net without even a glance, looking Clary over with open interest.

“Yep.” Clary laid her hand over Stan’s at her shoulder.

“You know he’s a lousy boss and a total skinflint, right?”

“You’re not even workin’ for me this summer, Wendy!”

Wendy grinned back. “So, you kissed him yet? Tambry’s video was pretty blurry.”

“Oh, I’ve kissed him.”

“Prove it!” Mabel called. Clary turned, smooth as you please, and pecked Stan sweetly on the cheek. He returned the favor as a collective groan went up. “Oh, come on, that doesn’t count!”

“That’s all you get, ya thirsty little gremlins! You want a sideshow, go buy a ticket!”

They endured a few more catcalls and hoots from the peanut gallery, Clary shaking with low laughter, until she finally patted his hand and rose. “That’s it. I’ve got to go even this out a bit. Hey, Pacifica!” She hopped down from the porch and strode purposefully over to the net. “You game to pair up with me against Team Backwoods here?”

“Oh, it’s on, lady. I mean, you’re not as decrepit as Stan and Stan Two, but Team Backwoods rules. C’mon, Dipper.” Wendy tossed a spare racquet over and the four of them went at it with more energy than Stan could really bear to watch.

He watched anyway, slouched and more than content to let everyone else do the work for a while. Soos had the grill going by the time the sun had tracked far enough west to dip below the tips of the pine trees. Susan showed up with the karaoke machine, a winning smile and a cherry-pie bribe that got her a plate and a hot dog in short order. Soos’ Abuelita held court in a tufted armchair her grandson hauled out from the office. A scatter of mismatched lawn chairs popped up to support the mismatched guests as they drifted in.

Clary wandered back over to the porch with a couple of pop bottles dangling from one hand. “You know those lawn darts are totally illegal.”

Dipper yelped in terror as Grenda’s dart overshot the target and thudded into the ground an inch from his foot. “Of course I know! That’s why I tracked down a couple extra sets. Wanna grab a bite?”

“This doesn’t count as dinner, Stan.”

“Why not? You’ve got the drinks right there!”

“Not quite yet.” The bottles clinked as she set them down at the corner of the sofa and tipped her chin over to Ford. “These are the last two. Cooler’s empty.”

“Oh,” he said, then “oh.” The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement.

It was so easy it was damned near embarrassing. Stan took one side of the cooler’s handle, Clary the other. They carried it sloshing between them until, with a perfectly coordinated swing, they dumped the icy meltwater right over Ford’s head.

Ford let out a steamwhistle shriek and bounced to his feet, sputtering in indignation. Clary set hands to her hips and stood her ground; Stan watched his brother deflate a little.

“Well,” said Ford. “I suppose you’ve got a point.” He shook water off his glasses, shoved back his drenched forelock and shifted attention to Stan.

“Oooohhh no no no no.” Stan held up both hands, rocking back on his heels. “You can dunk me once we’re back on the boat if y’want, but this’s payback fair and square, Sixer. You’ll have plenty of chances.”

“You’re right, of course.” Ford offered a hand to Clary. “One last dance, then? Even if it’s a bit damp?”

“Oh, by all means. Come on, I know that karaoke machine is around here somewhere.”

“Ford, you do not get to steal her, she’s gotta go in like twelve hours!”

Ford stole her anyway, that jerk. Someone got the music going and scattered laughter rose on the warm, still air as evening finally claimed the Shack. Hell with it, he thought, and slipped inside to rummage up what was left of the fireworks plus Clary’s scant handful of bottle rockets. Stan set himself up on the roof and fired off a single starburst to catch everyone’s attention.

“Hey!” That was Clary far below, hands cupped to direct her indignant shout. “Those’re mine!”

“Better get up here then!” he yelled back. Wendy pointed her at the gift shop and soon he could hear the vague scuffle of someone scrambling up the narrow ladder.

“Oh, god,” Clary muttered as she emerged a little ways up the roof. “This is steep.”

“Take it slow, you’ll be fine. C’mere.” Stan reached up and caught her hand. She warily picked her way down and stayed well away from the edge. “What, heights a problem?”

“Who likes heights?”

“Might as well get used to it, sweetheart, things’re gonna get a lot weirder than high places around us.”

Clary settled down after a minute or two as he lined things up, finally crouching near the edge as he handed off his spare matches. “Literal bottles for our bottle rockets?”

“Consider it creative recycling. Go get ‘em, kid.”

Fuses crackled and threw sparks as Stan set ‘em up and Clary knocked ‘em down, setting fire to everything he put in front of her, no rhyme or reason to it, a ragged fusillade of noise and light. They got ooohs and aaahs of approval from their audience anyway. She let the matches burn down to her fingertips and waved each out with a sharp flick of the wrist just in time to strike the next.

Explosions lit up her features in washes of color. The last rockets went up and she glanced his way, lifting the match to blow it out with a single puff of breath and a cocked brow.

Stan yielded to impulse and slung an arm around her waist, tugging her away from the edge - he landed butt-first, Clary half across his lap - and kissed her quick and hard, catching the edge of her front teeth in his lower lip for his trouble. The slow drag of her tongue soothed away that little hurt easy enough.

The asphalt shingles still held traces of the afternoon’s heat and Stan was more than content to serve as Clary’s pillow. “You could come upstairs tonight. If you want. Same rules.”

“Tempting.” She raised her head from his chest just enough to catch his eye, smile slanted and rueful. “Think I’ve got to decline, though, it’ll be hard enough to get out of here in the morning.”

“You could stay a little longer.”

“I’d love to. But I really can’t.”

Stan pulled a breath and let it go. “I get that. You gonna be okay? It’s a long-ass drive back to Maryland.”

“My nephew scored a cheap ticket to Vancouver and he’s going to drive the rest of the way back with me. I’ll head up to Seattle, do the necessary, then take a couple of days to spoil myself at a spa before I pick him up. We’ll be fine.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it covered. You keep me posted, right?”

Her grin was a sharp flash in the gathering dark. “You are gonna get so sick of your phone chirping at you.”

They rested there for a while, ignoring increasingly exasperated calls from the lawn down below. At length another scuffle scrambled up the ladder. Mabel thudded down on the roof, snapping a picture with her phone before Clary could do more than half sit up. “Oh, come on, you aren’t even smooching! Are you going to get downstairs for pie or what?”

Stan made it down the ladder first and managed to snag the last two slivers of pie. Soos passed out ice pops from the gift shop freezer over fruitless protests - the chicken picnic money would more than cover a bunch of popsicles, but it was the principle of the thing.

As the sky grew fully dark folks started to disperse. Clary handed out hugs and kisses and handshakes and exchanged a cheery wave with the departing McGucket that had to portend disaster somewhere down the line.

At the end it was down to Ford and Clary and Stan draped wearily across a trio of lawn chairs. Conversation had dwindled down to basically nothing. Clary’s fingers stayed hooked loosely into Stan’s.

He wasn’t sure if it was his effort or hers that kept their clasped hands swinging faintly between them.

“You all packed?”

“Nothing left but the overnight bag.”

“Gas?”

“Three-quarters of a tank.”

“Breakfast?”

“Cold cereal won’t kill me.” Clary rolled her head to curve him a tired smile and his fingers tightened down in hers. “I should get to bed. Need to be up bright and early.”

“Yup, suppose you should.” She didn’t budge for a good few minutes and he didn’t push. The lawn chair creaked when she finally rose. Clary’s kiss grazed his temple and lingered, and he leaned into it for as long as he could. Her palm pressed Ford’s shoulder as she crossed between them. Stan watched her head into the Shack, slipping easily into the shadows just within the door.

“What’s your take on her?” he asked.

“I like her better than that siren you spent most of February flirting with.”

Stan cackled. “Ah, he was cute. Best night’s sleep I’d had in ages.”

“He was going to eat you, you know.”

“You took care of it like a badass, and he turned out to be all kinds of helpful with that so-called Atlantis cipher you were tearin’ your hair out over. We came out ahead like we usually do. So.” He waggled brows at his brother. “When’re we hittin’ up the European coast?”

“I suppose I can move Finland and Lake Saimaa up the priority list,” Ford replied.

They both turned in soon after that, a bit before midnight for once. Stan sprawled across the center of his nice full-size orthopedic bed, taking up as much space as he wanted, and settled in to sleep.

He found himself staring up at the ceiling he couldn’t see. The house was quiet, all of the faint creaks of the joint familiar to his long-accustomed ear. Everyone was in their place - Ford in his basement fortress, the kids in the room they were going to outgrow for real by next summer, her down in the storage room that would go back to dust and old merch once she was gone.

Some wistful corner of his brain kept hoping she’d change her mind and come up to join him, but exhaustion dragged him under before she did.

Stan woke before his alarm went off, pulled himself together grudgingly and stumped downstairs into a minor Mabel whirlwind. Clary sat on the bottom step, posing for photos with Waddles and an expression of cheerful resignation.

“Great! Grunkle Stan, bend into the frame - yeah, right there - no, don’t just walk on by!” He went right past Mabel and her protests, Clary’s laughter chasing after him, and ended up in the kitchen. There was cold cereal, sure, but the last coffeecake as well, and he hacked out a chunk of that to stash at the back of the freezer for later.

He managed to get most of a cup of coffee down before Mabel hauled him outside into morning sunshine, shoving a small, squashy wrapped-and-beribboned package into his hand. “That’s for her, from you, got it? Okay! Hey Clary!”

Clary was halfway across the yard, overnight bag slung over one shoulder, but making little progress with Waddles trying to trip her up all the way. “Mabel, honeybee, could you please convince Waddles that I’m not trying to sneak off without saying goodbye?” Stan spotted Ford’s legs hanging out the passenger-side door of the Fairlane - probably screwing around with that black box he and McGucket had installed.

“Oh, I know you’re not sneaking off because we’re gonna bribe you not to. Presents!” Mabel sang. On cue, Dipper staggered out of the side door, blinded by the stack of brightly wrapped boxes he carried. Mabel plucked the stuffed blue whale out from under his arm and ran ahead to the station wagon. “But the only one you get to see is this one.”

Waddles disentangled himself and trotted obligingly after Mabel as Clary protested. “Mabel! That was a loan.”

“Lady Bluemington has taken a liking to you. Who am I to argue with the power of plush? Besides, you’re gonna be landlocked for months and I want you to be thinking of the glories of the open ocean.” Mabel’s hands described a familiar marquee arc in the air and to Stan’s amusement Clary went pink.

“I’m a pretty poor sailor, Mabel.”

“Now you’ve got plenty of incentive to learn! Right? Right!”

Ford took the overnight bag off Clary’s hands and tucked it into the back seat, along with the heap of presents. “No peeking,” said Dipper firmly, “and no opening those until you’re on the road! - or at least at the next rest stop, no more accidents!”

“No more accidents. I solemnly swear I’m going to get there in one piece.” Clary flashed the three-fingered Scout salute, then leaned in to peck Ford chastely on the cheek. “Thank you for all the repairs.”

“Ah, well, let’s not do that again. Thank you for all the lovely meals and the fine company. I look forward to continuing our discussion!” Stan eyed his brother warily and got an innocent smile in return.

“I guess that’s about it.” Clary looked over to the house and back to the car, tugging at her kerchief with a fingertip - it was the tiny nautical flags today - then bent and pulled Mabel in for a full-on embrace. Dipper got dragged along by his sister but didn’t seem too grossed out by the equivalent of auntie kisses. “I can’t thank you guys enough,” she said, muffled between the kids. “I really thought this trip was going to be awful but you’ve made it great. I’ll miss all of you.”

The strain in her voice was easy to catch and Stan shouldered his way in as Clary straightened. “All right, get lost, all a’you, I gotta show her a couple last things with the engine. G’wan! Get!” He waved shooing hands at the lot of them, and Ford nudged the gremlins back towards the house.

“Bye Clary!”

“Be careful out there on the road!” Clary flashed an approving thumb up for Dipper and watched the three of them disappear into the Shack, then leaned wearily against the Fairlane’s fender. Stan passed over his handkerchief and she sniffed into it for a moment.

“Ah, c’mon, it’s not that bad, it’s not like I haven’t figured out how t’spam you with text messages.”

Clary managed a chuckle and blinked at him over the hanky with glittering eyes. “She would’ve loved you guys.”

“‘Course she would’ve. We’re lovable.” Stan shifted his weight, shoved hands into his jacket pockets and ended up smashing Mabel’s squashy package in the process. “Uh - look, I got you a little somethin’ for the road - “

“Did you now.”

“Hey, you know there’s no point arguin’ with Mabel - “ Stan pressed the package into her offered hand; she tore off the crumpled paper to reveal a set of fuzzy dice crocheted in red with gold pips. Clary threw her head back and laughed. “See, now, if I could do a damn thing with yarn that is absolutely what I would’ve made you.”

“I love them. They’re perfect. I’ve got something for you, too.”

Clary dipped into her pocket and pressed an envelope into his palm. He sifted carefully through the glossy pictures inside, glitter stickers slapped into the corners. Stan and Clary bickering over eggs in the kitchen. Lit up by the glow of fireworks. In fishing hats, his expression more gobsmacked than he remembered it being. Leaning over the Fairlane’s engine. Spinning out across the museum floor in front of a dazzled crowd.

Stan held up the shot of the two of them dancing at Greasy’s under twinkling lights. “Mabel wasn’t even there for this one!”

“Probably lifted it from someone else’s video. She told me to make absolutely sure you got these.” The obvious question was sketched out in the worried lines around her eyes, but when he hesitated she patted his arm in understanding.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he admitted.

“That goes both ways. We’ll deal with it as it comes.”

“So, ah - “ Stan tucked the fresh memories into his jacket for later perusal and took a step to close the distance. “I mean I know I’m gonna see you again, so this isn’t exactly goodbye - “

“You’ve got obligations and so do I.” Clary swayed away, hands linked behind her.

“Oh I am gonna get to you, sweetpea. Though if I end up yodelin’ or stuffed into lederhosen or somethin’ there might be hell to pay.“

“A gift of a baby goat is traditional. Or so my niece claims.” Lowered lashes veiled her eyes as she sidestepped him with the practiced grace of a matador, slipping out of easy smooching range until his patience began to fray.

Stan played along for the moment, stalking intently after her. “You’re not gonna leave me here without a kiss for the road, right?”

“No way. But I’m waiting for our cue.” He managed to cut a quick glance over to the Shack without looking too much like he was doing it, and spotted the curtain pulled back just a bit by a little hand.

“I did not take you to be quite this mean, Miz Merrick.”

“It’s our job as responsible adults to pretend that delayed gratification is a good thing, darling.”

“Who’re you callin’ responsible?”

“Would you two just kiss already!?!”

Mabel’s rising yell of frustration went off like an air-raid siren. Stan grinned wide and rocked back on his heels. Clary cracked up, knees half buckling as she reached out. His hands caught her waist; he swept her half off her feet and kissed her laughing mouth until she dwindled to giggles and then to happy humming against his lips.

Stan held her tight for longer than he needed to, trailing firm kisses along her jawline, her arms twining up to loop around his neck as she sighed in pleasure and regret. “We really should’ve figured this out a week ago.”

“I have ways t’make up for lost time.”

He felt her shiver as she drew careful breath and leaned in to whisper. “I’m counting on it.”

They stayed entwined like that, her hair sun-warm against his cheek, until Dipper called out. “Can I look yet?”

Gently, grudgingly, Clary disentangled herself and drew away. His fingers clung to hers until she was out of reach. “I’ll text you when I stop for the night. See you around, sailor.”

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

Clary lifted an arm, focus shifting as she waved enthusiastically at the rest of the crew on the porch. Her last look at him was wistful and soft but determined, and she winked a tiny wink as she pivoted away and marched up to the Fairlane, dropping into the driver’s seat and dragging the seatbelt across. A moment’s work set the fuzzy dice dangling from the rear-view mirror. The old wagon cranked up like a dream, the big V8 engine so quiet it did little more than purr as she pulled out down the drive.

Stan stood and watched her go until the last bit of blue had disappeared between the trees and the dust had settled. Mabel and Dipper came out to flank him.

“Soooo I guess we’re going to be seeing her again?” Dipper said hopefully.

“Yup.”

“Aaaaaand it was worth taking a chance on telling her what you really feel?” Mabel nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Maybe more show than tell, pumpkin.” Stan’s face ached with a smile that wouldn’t fade. He turned back towards the Shack, clapping hands together. “All right, you two. Day’s young and there’s plenty to do. Who wants to help me haul the S back up?”

There was already a Clary-shaped hole in his immediate plans.

Stan had no idea how this long-distance thing would work, but he was eager to find out.

Tumblr masterpost

Mabel shouts in pure frustration. “Would you two just kiss already!” Clary’s grinning at you like the sun just came out after two years of winter.

Kiss her.

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #OClicious #fanfic

7 notes · View notes

dargeereads · 4 years

Text

COCKY HERO CLUB

Release Date: May 17, 2020

Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward are excited to bring you the Cocky Hero Club: original works from various authors inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling Cocky Bastard series.

COCKY DUKE

BY ANNABELLE ANDERS

Mrs. Ambrosia Bloomington, now a widow, is ready to start a new life amongst Mayfair elites without the overarching reach of her late husband, Mr. Harrison Bloomington. With her trunks loaded safely onto her own private carriage, she’s ready to face the world as an independent woman in Regency London.

She does not, however, bargain for cocksure Frenchman, Mr. Charles Cochran Bateman coming along and turning her very ordinary journey into the adventure of a lifetime.

She does not bargain for his laughter, his enthusiasm, nor his Joie de vie.

And blast and fiddlesticks, she certainly is not expecting to experience the sparks that charge the air between them.

And, it seems, apparently, neither is he…

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH ANNABELLE ANDERS

MOTHER CLUCKER

BY CAT JOHNSON

They say opposites attract, but in this case, they might just combust . . .

HEATHER

Hermosa Beach seems to be the place for throwing together unlikely opposites.

My rooster Rowdy and his new crush, Pixy the goat.

Me and the obnoxiously cocky cowboy from Texas . . .

But unlike Rowdy and Pixy, there’s no way I’m going to fall for David Strickland.

Nope. Not gonna happen. I could never be with a man so completely opposed to everything I believe . . . no matter how hot he is.

DAVID

There couldn’t be two people more different than the beautiful little tree hugger and rooster rescuer Heather and me.

We can’t agree on anything, except that we disagree on everything—some times more heatedly than other times. And believe me, things are starting to heat up between us, in more ways than one.

She's the last thing I expected to find at an animal shelter in California. But now I found her, I have no intention of letting her go.

I just have to get her on board with that plan.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH CAT JOHNSON

SECRET KEEPER BY CHRISTOPHER HARLAN

She was the fruit of a forbidden tree, but nothing in this world was going to stop me from tasting her.

My name is Dylan Murphy, and I work for the rich and powerful of an exclusive Manhattan building. Graham Morgan was my first boss, but soon after I was working with some of the most famous entrepreneurs, business moguls, and movie stars in the city. They trusted me because I always followed the cardinal rules:

Never betray secrets. And never, under any circumstance, get personally involved.

I’d never dreamed of violating my professional mantra.

Not until she walked past me.

The look we exchanged that night set my body on fire, and I knew right then and there that no matter the consequences, she was going to be mine. But she was one of them—off limits and out of my league, but she was the kind of woman who I was willing to risk everything for.

I keep other people’s secrets for a living, but the biggest secret of all might be my own.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH CHRISTOPHER HARLAN

COCKY CAPTAIN

BY ELLIE MASTERS

Ex-fighter pilot, Logan Reid, is exactly the kind of man I despise. He’s a cocky jet jock, a former Navy Blue Angel, and full of all the arrogance that comes with being the best of the best.

I’m an ex-Zoomie, an Air Force tanker pilot. The rivalry between our sister services is nothing compared to that between fighter jocks and tanker pilots. We’re bitter rivals and I’m low-man (woman) on the totem pole

The last thing I need is to spend six hours at thirty-five thousand feet locked in a cockpit with the cocky captain. But I have no choice. I’m his co-pilot, and we’re taking the CEO of Montague Enterprises, and his family, on a mini-vacation to the Grand Caymans.

We have three days on the ground before we fly back.

Three long days in paradise and he wants to spend them all with me.

I have a thing for fighter pilots.

It isn’t animosity, exactly, but rather a deep-seated dislike. They get all the glory while the rest of us sit at the butt end of their jokes and wither beneath their ridicule.

I hate fighter pilots. There, I said it. I hate the arrogant pricks with a passion.

But after one look into those magnetic eyes, and the devastating wink which follows, I’m thinking of throwing caution to the wind. What harm can come from some innocent flirting? Besides, it’s not as if my job is at risk.

I’m not prepared for the air to sizzle when he’s close.

I’m not ready for our explosive chemistry when he touches my skin.

I’m not equipped for the fallout when our three days come to an end.

And I never expected to fall in love.

But all good things come to an end.

I wasn’t prepared when I walked away.

And I wasn’t ready for what came next.

He’s arrogant.

He’s cocky.

He’s determined to get what he wants.

And he’s refuses to let this end.

He’s fighting for a forever…with me.

But, I’m not ready for our beginning.

He’s arrogant enough to prove me wrong.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited AUDIO COMING SOON CONNECT WITH ELLIE MASTERS

SEXY SUIT

BY J.H. CROIX

When I met Ryan, I might’ve been trying to break into his basement.

It was for a good cause. I swear. Also, my dog broke in first.

Ryan Blake is jaw-dropping handsome, wealthy & cocky. Not quite my type. By some miracle, he doesn’t call the police on me when he catches me trying to rescue my dog. He even fetches a doctor for me. Don’t ask why.

I don’t figure I’ll see him again. Then, I do. Then, he kisses me. Once. Twice. Is three times the charm? To be honest, I swooned at the first kiss.

All swooning aside, we are seriously opposites. I wear cowboy boots and skirts. He wears suits and ties. He’s all New York City. I’m a Southern girl looking for a new start. We even talk at different speeds.

The list of things I don’t expect from Ryan is long. I don’t expect him to think twice about me. I don’t expect him to nearly bring me to my knees with a look. I don’t expect him to be so much more than I ever imagined.

I absolutely don’t expect to fall for him. So hard I’m skidding sideways just to catch my balance.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH J.H. CROIX

WICKED BEDMATE BY JENIKA SNOW

Getting fired and humiliated in front of everyone at my newly acquired secretarial job at Morgan Financial Holdings wasn’t how I’d seen my day going.

And then chaos—or maybe luck—ensured.

I was set up on a blind date, shocked that my former boss was giving me a month’s severance, and had the perfect interview lined up.

Maybe things were looking up for me after all.

And although finding a man should have been on the bottom of my to-to list, I couldn’t get Jason—the uber sexy blind date—out of my head. Sexy and confident—or maybe arrogant—he had me yearning for more with just a smoldering look and a smirk of his lips.

But when a night of drinking leads to getting in bed with him and having the wildest, most intense night of my life, I didn’t know if I should ask to see him again, or do the good old walk of shame.

And it’s when I walk into my interview the next day and come face-to-face with my prospective employer that the reality of my situation sinks in.

Because there, sitting across from me with that devilish smile on his face, that knowing expression of what we’d done the night before, is the one and only Jason, my supposedly one-night stand.

Looked like my humiliation wasn’t over just yet.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH JENIKA SNOW

LUCKY BASTARD BY KAYLEE RYAN

Emma

When my best friend Aubrey asked me to tag along to an event with her, I never could have imagined that it would be the day that my life changed forever.

He’s arrogant and demanding and doesn’t take a hint. Landon Barker, the quarterback for the Hermosa Beach Trojans, is a player on and off of the field. He’s got his sights set on me as his next play, but I see right through him. Aubrey says I’m overreacting, that I should give him a chance. What she doesn’t realize is men like Landon don’t fall for the girl next door. That’s not reality. She got her fairytale, although it was a long road. Not all of us are that lucky.

Landon

She’s a friend of our new kicking coach’s wife. When I ask Chance for her number, he tells me I have to find a way to get it myself.

Nothing when it comes to Emma has been easy. She’s the first woman ever to turn me down, and that won’t do. However, as time passes, it’s about more than that. It’s about her smile, her laugh, and just spending time with her. She thinks I’m a player, and she’s right. What she doesn’t know is that I play to win, and her heart is the ultimate trophy.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH KAYLEE RYAN

COCKSURE ACE BY K WEBSTER

I’m a fighter.

At least that’s what my daddy always told me.

It’s in our blood.

Hard work, hustle, and a little Hennessey is the Reid motto.

He taught me to fight for everything I wanted in life.

Take down those who threaten the dream.

My dream is to marry the perfect man.

That man is my father’s best friend and I won’t stop until I have him.

And at Daddy’s wedding in Costa Rica, I plan to make that dream finally come true.

Then, my life will be smooth sailing.

Until a chance flight with an arrogant pilot throws me off course.

Literally.

Camilo’s decisions affect my future, and I can’t allow anything—not even a cocksure, ridiculously hot idiot—to stand in my way.

Problem is, he fights back.

Every battle I’ve won in life, he shoots down and exposes me for the fraud I am.

Trapped in paradise with my devilishly handsome nemesis seems like one of the seven circles of Hell…and, boy, is it getting hot around here.

He’ll strip me of my armor.

Remind me of my past.

Force me to rethink my future.

And help me live in the moment.

Will he steal my heart too?

One thing’s for sure.

This girl won’t give up without a fight.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH K WEBSTER

CLUTCH PLAYER BY NIKKI ASH

Harper

I fell in love when I was sixteen. Landon was my entire world and I thought he would be my forever. But I was young and dumb, and with one error in judgement, I destroyed any chance of a future we could’ve had together, along with our hearts.

Twelve years later and I’m going through the motions of life, but not actually living. Which is why I let my friends, Bridget and Simon, set me up on a blind date. Turns out, it’s not so blind after all. Because the man sitting in front of me is the same man who’s held onto my heart all these years.

Landon

They call me a Clutch Player because I’m good under pressure and quick on my feet. I was also quick to fall in love. The first time it was with baseball, the second was with Harper. And for a short time I had them both.

Until I lost Harper and all I had left was baseball.

For years, I focused on my career. I had accepted that baseball was my one true love.

Until I saw her again. I never imagined we’d ever get a second chance, but now that she’s sitting right across from me, I know there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her go again.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH NIKKI ASH

SEXY SCOUNDREL BY RAISA GREYWOOD

Carlina Perez is in way over her head. Unexpectedly jobless and fostering an exotic pet with an insatiable appetite, this pastry chef needs a new gig faster than she can whip up a batch of scones. But when she’s tapped to serve as the personal chef to a haughty tabloid regular, she only considers the job out of sheer desperation. After all, Giorgio Acardi may be filthy rich and intoxicatingly handsome, but he’s also a first class scoundrel.

Giorgio Acardi has it all: money, fame, an endless string of beautiful companions, and the respect of his colleagues and rivals. From the outside looking in, his life is perfect. So perfect, in fact, that he’s even got his eye on a new personal chef. She’s talented and gorgeous, and it shouldn’t make a difference whether she hates him or not as long as she does the job. But there’s something about Carlina that Giorgio just can’t resist, and he hasn’t enjoyed success by backing down from a challenge.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU Free in Kindle Unlimited ALSO AVAILABLE IN AUDIO CONNECT WITH RAISA GREYWOOD

Cocky Hero Club

WEBSITE

FACEBOOK PAGE

FACEBOOK GROUP

INSTAGRAM

TWITTER

AMAZON

AUDIBLE

1 note · View note

lukesgirl97 · 5 years

Text

We lost her (A Michael Gray Imagine) (trigger warning)

The day you told Michael you was expecting your first child he was scared. He had already got a girl pregnant a year ago. But the difference was...He didn’t love her, But you... he loved you from the minute he Laid his eyes on you. He thought about it and he grew more and more excited to start a family with you.

You had got dressed and was ready to leave. When there was a knock at the door. Curious you looked out the window to see Polly. You sighed as opened the door, she smiled and walked in.

“Michael at work?” She asked as she walked through the house and sat at The kitchen table. Even more confused you followed her in. “Yeah he left a few hours ago i was just about to pop round there.” She smiled and leaned forward.

“Y/N I want to know your interest with my son.” You was taken back as polly has always been kind to you before. You was curious as to why she was asking these questions 10 months into your relationship. You decide to defend yourself.

“Polly the only interest I have with your son is to make him happy and to one day Marry the love of my life. I’m confused as to why this has come around all of a sudden.”

She leaned back in her chair and lit a cigarette, the urge to have one right now grew but you didn’t want to cause any harm to your unborn growing child. She exhaled and looked at you. “Because he has been distant from us. From the family for weeks and you have as well. I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t thinking of moving away.” You internally relaxed. Then thought about telling her the truth but knew Michael would want to be there as well.

“Look Poll there is reasons as to why we’ve been distant but we want to tell everyone together. I would tell you now but Michael isn’t here and I think he wouldn’t be happy if I told you without him being here.”

You could tell by the look in her eyes she knew already. She has clocked on, it was the Gypsy in her. She smiled and nodded. “Okay well let’s head over to the offices then.” She jumped up and put her cigarette out in the crystal ashtray that was already over flowing with cigarette butts.

You both begin walking over to the offices when you felt a odd pain in your stomach. You tried to play it off like nothing happened but Polly still asked as she could tell by your face you were in some sort of pain . “You okay Y/N?” She seemed concerned. You nodded and kept walking, you had began to feel sick. You brushed this off thinking it was the beginning of morning sickness.

Not to long later you arrived at the offices and sat down on the first chair you could find. The pain had gotten worse but you didn’t want to say anything. Then everyone would know. You just wanted Michael. You felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Tommy. He knelt beside you.

“Y/N you don’t look good. Why are you here Michaels in meetings.” Polly stood on the other side of the chair. You sighed. “I just want Michael.”

Polly spoke up. “She was okay until we started walking over here.” She grabbed Tommy and walked away you knew she was telling him you was pregnant. You decided to walk home and try and sleep this pain away. You stood up and became dizzy and that’s when everything’s turned black. You just prayed your baby was going to be okay.

Michael POV

I sat in the meeting with a few new potential business partners, this was big for me. I want to show Tommy I can be apart of every aspect of this company and that starts with the meetings. I need to start bringing in more money for Y/N and the baby. Money never bothered us but I want this child to have everything.

“So Mr Gray, the company can also provide protection?.” The short middle aged man asked I smirked. “Of course protection is something we pride in being able to provide. We have the best in Birmingham.” I lit my cigarette and i stood up walking around the office.

“We have many positives that come with the company. We have links across the country and in the US. Pairing with us wouldn’t be a mistake I can promise you that now.” I could tell by their faces they where in, it was just a matter of their verbal confirmation. There was a knock at the door I sighed “Yes?.” Finn walked in. I looked at his face and saw the panic. Worry filled my body. “Excuse me gentlemen.” My professional side wiped as soon as I shut the door.

“What the fucked happened Finn.” I flicked my cigarette on the floor. He was out of breathe. “Finn come on I don’t have time I’m in He middle of...” he interrupted me with words I didn’t want to hear.

“It’s Y/N she’s been rushed to hospital.” I felt my heart melt and my legs go weak. The baby and Y/N where in trouble. I opened the door. “Gentlemen do you mind waiting. I have a family emergency. Thomas will be here shortly to finish the meeting.” Tears streaming down my face .I tried so hard to not look weak but the thought of losing Y/N and the baby. It Killed me.

They nodded and you could tell they were sincere. “Finn get Tommy here now to close that deal. I need to go to Y/N.” Finn nodded and ran in the opposite direction back to the offices. I bolted to the car and drove straight to the hospital. I needed to know Y/N and the baby where okay I just needed them to be okay.

Y/N POV

Your eyes fluttered open and You looked around the room in the search of Michael. He was asleep on the chair next to you.“Michael...” you spoke softly but louder enough for him to here you, he woke up and jumped to your side. He stroked your face. You saw his eyes were red and puffy. You felt empty and drained. “What happened.” You asked.

Michael closed his eyes and a tear fell. You knew then what had happened. You shook your head repeatedly and began sobbing. Your unborn child was gone and it killed you inside knowing it must have been your fault.

You screamed “it’s my fault!” Michael grabbed your arms to get your attention, “Y/N it wasn’t your fault don’t you dare blame yourself. It happens all the time okay, look at me...”

You looked Michael in the eyes and saw how much pain he was in as well. You didn’t realise how much this had effected him too until this exact moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you closely. This was a big thing you would both have to overcome together, you knew you would both be okay though...because you had each other.

#michaelgray #peaky blinder imagine #michaelgrayimagine #tommyshelby #pollygray #peakyblinders #finn cole imagine #finncole

28 notes · View notes

emospritelet · 5 years

Note

KoL Prompt -- Belle calls Gold by accident. Gold worries when she doesn't respond blah blah blah maybe he can admit to hinself that he is falling for her?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15]

AO3 link

Belle was confused when she awoke, the room unfamiliar, the light from the window coming from the wrong angle. At first she thought it was because she was in Gold’s house rather than her own, but still something didn’t seem right. Pushing up on arms that felt like jelly, she looked around, eyes widening as she realised where she was. Dr Gold’s bedroom. For a wonderful, fleeting moment she thought perhaps they had spent the night together, but the bed beside her was cold, the pillow unused. Besides, she remembered being very ill and taking a bath before hurling herself into the bed and falling asleep. Hardly conducive to a night of passion.

Cold air was on her shoulders, making her shiver, and she turned onto her back. She was suddenly aware that the blankets had been pushed down to her waist and she was naked. In his bed. Where the hell had he slept? He must know she was there. He must have come into the room, expecting to get into his own bed, and found her there. Naked. Belle blushed, pulling the blankets up to her chin and wriggling down in the bed. How much had he seen? Could she possibly make it three days before stripping off in front of him again?

She sneezed, clapping a hand to her mouth as she did so, and automatically reached to the side where the box of tissues sat on the nightstand in her room. There was nothing there, and she made an irritated noise under her breath, leaning over to pull out the little drawer to see if there were some in there. She found some tissues, and got one to her nose just in time before sneezing again. Balling it up, she dropped it on the nightstand, and glanced in the drawer as she reached over to push it shut again. A framed photograph caught her eye, and she frowned, tilting her head to look at it.

It was a photograph of a young boy, perhaps four or five years of age. Dark hair and eyes, with an infectious dimpled smile. He was gazing at the camera and clutching a toy bear to his chest. The frame was moulded brass, the glass marked with fingerprints, as though it was handled a lot. She wondered who the boy was, and why the photograph was kept in the drawer rather than being on display.

A knock at the bedroom door made her start, and she quickly shut the drawer and clutched the blankets closer, casting her eyes around frantically for something to wear. The knock came again, which convinced her that Gold had indeed come into the room and seen her - well, if not entirely naked, at least whatever had been showing above the blankets. He clearly wasn’t about to enter again and risk another eyeful.

“Come in!” she called, and the door opened.

Dr Gold glanced at her, and seemed to relax a little as he saw that she was covered up. He pushed open the door, crossing to the nightstand to put down the tray he had carried in his left arm. It contained tea, a bowl of fresh fruit with yogurt and honey, and a small omelette.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little better,” she said truthfully, and he nodded, reaching out to feel her forehead before nodding again, more approvingly.

“Yes, your fever has gone down. Good. You should get plenty of rest today, though. Keep drinking water”

“I will.”

She hesitated, glancing up at him. He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes, and she felt awful for embarrassing the poor man.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea I’d gone to sleep in your bed. I took a bath last night, and - and I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s no matter,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I - I guess I left the PJs in the bathroom,” she added. “Sorry again. I really have to stop flashing you like this, it’s not professional.”

She was hoping to raise a smile, but he was looking at his hands, fingers twitching over the handle of his cane.

“I’m sure my naked body is the last thing you expected to see,” she went on, and he glanced at her briefly before looking away again.

“Well, I’m a doctor,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of naked bodies in my time, Miss French. Yours is no more hideous than any of them, I assure you.”

Belle blinked.

“Right,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I should get to work,” he added. “Please, call if you need anything.”

He slipped out of the room, and Belle collapsed back into the pillows with a groan. She ran her hands over her face, frustrated with herself, and reached for her tea, listening to Gold moving around downstairs as she ate her omelette. He left for work soon enough, the front door closing, and Belle whipped off the covers and hurried to the bathroom, finding the discarded pyjamas neatly folded on the laundry hamper. She put them on, getting back into bed and setting the bowl of fruit and yogurt on her lap as she reached for her phone.

“Hey, invalid!” said Ruby cheerfully. “How are you?”

“Getting better,” said Belle.

“Still living in sin with the lovely Dr Gold?”

“I wish,” grumbled Belle. “He can barely look at me. I think it’s time I went home.”

Ruby sighed.

“So much for the summer wedding I was planning,” she teased. “You sure you want to go to your dad’s place?”

“I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’re developing by outstaying my welcome, you know?” said Belle. “The guy’s a massive introvert, and the longer I stay here, the more withdrawn he’s getting. I think he needs some time alone, poor man.”

“Okay,” said Ruby. “If you’re sure you’re well enough to walk to the car, I’ll come over and pick you up in an hour.”

“You’re an angel.”

She hung up, and lay back against the pillows, taking a spoonful of yogurt. Gold had been too good to her, but enough was enough. She had to leave.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that Gold picked up his phone, so he didn’t see that Belle had tried to call him twice. She had left no message, but then there was a third call, around ten minutes earlier, a message of distorted sounds and muffled scrapes. It sounded like the few calls he had received from Jefferson when he had sat on his phone. “Butt-dialling”, Jefferson called it. Perhaps Belle had sat on her phone by accident. Shoving away the image of her naked in his bed again, this time with a phone slipped under her perfect rear end, he swiped at the screen to call her. Just checking in, of course. No other reason. The phone went straight to voicemail, and he hung up.

He called the house phone instead; there was one on his nightstand, and she would be able to answer it easily. There was no response, and low-level worries began to needle him. He called her cell again, cursing as he received the voicemail message. What if she had collapsed? She could have fainted or fallen and tried to call for help. Pushing back his chair, he slipped the phone into his pocket and made his way to the locker room. He had another twenty minutes of his lunch break. More than enough time to go home and check on Belle.

By the time the Cadillac pulled into his driveway, his anxiety levels had risen substantially, worst case scenarios flitting through his mind. Belle was injured. Fallen in the kitchen, or slipped in the shower. Worse, Belle was dead, lying at the foot of the stairs with her neck twisted, staring up at him. The rational part of his brain told him he was being ridiculous, but his imagination went on creating nightmares for him to ponder as he got out of the car and strode quickly up to the porch, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.

He called her name as soon as he entered the house, heart thumping painfully when he was greeted with silence. Taking the stairs two at a time made his bad leg scream, and he knocked on the bedroom door with more force than he needed, waiting only momentarily before opening it. The room was empty, the blankets pulled up and tucked in neatly. He turned on his heel and went to the room she had called hers for the brief time she had been there, but that was cold and empty too. Brow furrowing in confusion, he went back downstairs, glancing into the lounge and study before ending up in the kitchen.

There was a note on the table, a single piece of paper weighted down with a fountain pen. He picked it up, eyes scanning the words.

Dear Stirling

I tried to call, but I guess you were busy. Your phone wouldn’t let me leave a message, for some reason, so I’m having to do this the old fashioned way. Something tells me you’ll be okay with that.

Thank you so, so much for everything you’ve done. For taking me in, for letting me share your home, for looking after me so well when I was sick. I know we didn’t know each other all that well when I first came over, but I’d like to think we’re friends now. I hope we’re friends, anyway. I had a lot of fun, when we weren’t concentrating on being sick, of course. It’s been so great getting to know you a little. At least now I have a better idea of what to get you if I ever pull your name in Secret Santa!

You have your house back, with no weird girl bringing you soup and stripping off and freaking you out, so you can relax a little. I’ll see you when I’m back at work, which hopefully won’t be too long, and I hope you feel better soon.

Yours

Belle

P.S. Oh, Ruby’s taking me home, by the way. It’s not like I’m walking, so I don’t want you to worry about me.

For a moment he felt relief; she was fine, she had left his house in one piece and gone home. He told himself he should be relieved for other reasons; he would no longer be tortured by her presence, by her scent in the air and on his sheets and by the sound of her low, soft laughter. He should have been relieved, but he could feel nothing but emptiness. His life was back to normal, and he hated it.

#hey nonny nonny #fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #dr gold x candy striper belle #rumbelle

45 notes · View notes

shoot-i-messed-up · 5 years

Text

L and V (Part 9)

A/N: oof where did my motivation go? also, there may or may not be foreshadowing in this chapter

Tropes/Pairings: Analogical, background Royality, hero x villain, soulmates AU (the one where if you draw on yourself, it shows up on your soulmate’s skin), and superpowers

Summary: Corbin informs Virgil of the new conspiracy theories surrounding Anxiety and Logic, and Virgil has to face the consequences the next day. Fortunately, the next day isn’t a field day. Unfortunately, he still has to face the agency bully and his assistant.

TW: This one guy who’s pretty much a stereotypical school bully, a fight, dread, a ““dark side”” but this is a human!au

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Virgil sleepily stumbled into the kitchen the next day. After the fight with the A-team and Logan’s announcement, he had collapsed in exhaustion as soon as he caught sight of his bed. He had slept peacefully, for the first time in a long while.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton greeted Virgil as he cooked some pancakes.

Virgil slowly made himself some coffee and become aware than your average zombie. As he nursed a cup of warm coffee, he cherished his day off, though off days were usually after a tough battle. After a long sip of caffeine, Virgil replied, “Hey, Pat.”

Patton flipped a pancake sloppily. “You have a day off?”

“Yeah, you?” Virgil nonchalantly took another swig.

“Yep!” Patton chirped. “I’m going to spend the day with Daphne.”

Virgil squinted in thought. “Isn’t she that crazy woman you met at the library?”

“Kiddo,” the elder scolded, setting the pancake onto a plate before turning to look disapprovingly at Virgil. “She isn’t crazy. Far from it! She’s a genius! She showed me this really good book!”

Virgil nodded slowly. “That sounds fake but okay.” He drank some more coffee. He casually turned his phone on to check Tumblr, but he was bombarded with a bunch of texts from Corbin.

Corbin: THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

Corbin: CODE ORANGE!

Corbin sent a link.

Corbin: COME OVER TO THE St. CLAUDIA PARK!

Corbin: Pick up!!

Corbin: Look at the news!!!

Corbin: Did you see the news?!

“What the heck?” Virgil wondered aloud. To start, Code Orange, if he remembered correctly, was a scandal or an information leak of some sort. He quickly typed in the password to his phone and pressed the link Corbin had sent him.

Logic and Anxiety: Dating Confirmed?!

The picture below it was a slightly blurry photo of Virgil and Logan making out the day before.

Virgil’s face was drained of blood. There. He was done. His hero reputation was ruined by this scandal. A hero soul mates with a villain? He was surely going to be treated as a traitor within his agency. And outside his agency, things would be worse. People would shoot him dirty looks in the streets and outright harass him. He was ruined, like how Hamilton when he had published the Reynolds Pamphlet.

How would Virgil pay his bills if he wasn’t a hero? He supposed he could get a different job, but he had dropped out of college to become a full time hero. Virgil would have to freeload off of Patton, but he didn’t want to strain Patton’s finances, especially if Patton suffers the consequences of the scandal, too. Patton had a higher position in the agency, if Patton’s bank account was anything to go by.

And L? Villainy was his job, it was how he kept food on the table. He would get treated as a traitor, too. His own friends would probably turn their backs to him. Virgil scrolled through the news, heart sinking when he realized that the pictures were all over the news. On social media, both villain and hero agencies worked hard to get them off the Internet or to loudly dismiss it as photoshop. Half other people on the Internet thought it was just as “fake” as the proofs of Anxiety and Logic being soul mates.

Corbin: When are you going to get your BUTT over to St. Claudia’s Park?! I’m freezing! And I know you’ve read my texts!

Corbin. Could Corbin fix it? Virgil hoped so. Corbin could fix a lot of things. Corbin fixed his cracked pot once, and Virgil still had no idea how.

Corbin: Virgil! Don’t ignore me!

On second thought, maybe Corbin couldn’t fix his way out of a paper bag, but he could sure as heck order others to. Virgil slipped his phone into his pocket and flew out the door to go to the park.

Reluctantly, Virgil went to work the next day with a pit in his stomach. Some other superheroes shot him murderous glances and others shot him pitying ones. It was a paperwork day, not one in the field, to which Virgil was thankful for. He didn’t think he could handle all of the taunts of villains and the heavy suspicion citizens. He worked quietly at his desk, thanking the universe that he had a private office. His assistant, Imani, typed furiously in a separate desk a few feet away from him. Imani sniffled as she filled out the forms. For the sake of not having awkward silence, Virgil played some classical music from his computer.

“So,” Virgil said, breaking the silence for first time in the hour they had been working silently. He drummed his fingers on the wooden desk, trying to manage a way to get words past his lips without sounding like a fool. “Have you, uh, seen the news recently?”

Imani looked up but kept typing. “Yes, I have!” she said in her British accent. She grinned. “I read the article on the dog and the rabbit becoming friends!”

Virgil stared at Imani in disbelief. “…So you don’t know about the Code Orange?”

Imani’s grin wavered and her eyes seemed lifeless for once. “I do know about that.” She stopped typing. Her smile dropped. “Is it true?”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Goodness!” she gasped. Imani stood up and slammed her hands onto her desk. “How could you do that? Logic? I didn’t believe all those rumors, but this…this…”

Virgil sank further into his chair and hid his face in his sweater. “I-I-I’m sorry…”

Imani teared up and sniffled. “I’m afraid ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it. Logic almost put my family business out of business!”

Virgil squinted and wondered if this was going where he thought it was going. “…What’s your family business?” he asked hesitantly.

“Family Hashen Bakery,” Imani sniveled. Virgil handed her a tissue, which she took gratefully. “We think someone broke into it sometime ago.” She aggressively blew her nose.

Virgil winced and guilt ate at his heavy heart. “Oh…”

After a few minutes of Virgil passing tissues to her, Imani calmed down a little with only some sniffles. “Virgil, I know you’re a good person, but Logic…Logic isn’t.”

“I know,” Virgil admitted. “I think the universe made a mistake.”

“Virgil, this is the plot of a million books,” Imani said as-a-matter-of-factly as she could when wiping tears from her face. “The universe doesn’t make mistakes.” She and Virgil solemnly locked eyes. “I hope that’s true.” Then she sat down and continued typing almost as if nothing had ever happened. Virgil stared at her, surprised to see how easily she had slipped back into work. After a few minutes, Virgil sat back down, too, and filled out more paperwork.

The two sat in tense silence, except for the music Virgil still played. He had turned it a little louder, to cut the tension. An hour later, Virgil stood up. “I’m going to take a break,” Virgil muttered at Imani. He watched her for a reaction, permission, something.

She looked up. “Then take one,” she said professionally, almost coldly.

He shuddered at her warmthless voice and opened the door. The hallway was suddenly a lot more inviting than his office, and most other heroes didn’t give him any more trouble other than glares. He made his way to the first floor. He was almost at the vending machine to get his usual granola bar when he was stopped by a thick hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Anxiety, so good to see you,” a man boomed high above Virgil’s head.

Virgil silently cursed his luck. Why did it have to be Chad, of all people? He was very much a jerk, and he only got through the ranks of the agency because of nepotism. At least, that was what everyone thought. Virgil had seen Chad fight, and he was afraid of Chad. He was the stereotypical jock of the agency, which was saying a lot.

“Hi, Chad,” Virgil said. He tried to walk away, but Chad’s hand kept him firmly in place. He wondered why Chad of all people had to have super strength, but that’s how the universe went. Virgil had heard Chad’s soul mate’s power was to weaken others. Balance, Virgil supposed.

Chad’s grip on Virgil tightened, bringing Virgil out of thought. “I heard about the Code Orange,” he said. Some heroes started to take notice of the scrawny 21-year-old and the jacked 30 something by the vending machine.

Now, Virgil knew he was lucky to be at his polite, well-mannered agency, but that didn’t mean that fights between heroes still didn’t happen. He had heard about an argument that escalated into a full-on brawl, but the heroes had telekinesis and pyrokinesis, so naturally, the fight was destructive.

“I see,” Virgil said politely.

“Are you soul mates with Logic?”

Virgil winced at Chad’s fingernails digging into his shoulder, and he was sure that Chad was using his power. He needed to defuse the situation before it turned into a fight, but if he wanted to not cause a scene, he had to stall for time. He subtly started to adjust the gravity around them.

“What?” Virgil asked innocently. In his peripheral vision, he saw a figure in black and grey. He hoped that was who he thought it was. “Yeah, I thought it was obvious by now.” Virgil heard some dramatic gasps the shouts of his colleagues, and perhaps the exasperated sigh of some after Dot fainted. Again.

“You’re not going to betray the heroes for that scum, are you?” Chad spat.

“No,” Virgil said as calmly as he could. The black and grey outline started to come closer, and Virgil’s and Chad’s feet were almost off of the ground.

After that happened, Virgil would have the advantage. Chad would have to float aimlessly about. And if he wanted to go anywhere, let alone fight, he would have to push himself. Considering Chad’s power, that would be very destructive, and with all of the precious or dangerous items in the building, even Chad’s father wouldn’t be able to pay that amount of money. All of this banked on whether or not Chad could figure this out, and Chad wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. That’s where they came in.

“No,” Virgil repeated a little louder. “Really the opposite!” With that, they shot off of the floor, and Virgil was once again thankful for the high ceilings and the interior balconies of other floors. Before Chad could do anything, Virgil wiggled out of his grasp and dropped himself off at the second floor.

“Hey!” Chad roared and tried to sprint after Virgil but he propelled himself upside down.

“Chad, don’t!” Elliot yelled from the ground.

Chad grumbled loudly, but he knew he couldn’t do anything. Elliot was 90% of Chad’s impulse control.

With light feet, Virgil sprinted down the halls into his office. He almost ran past his door. He quickly opened his office, shut the door behind him, and locked it with his keys. He trembled with nerves and panted from exhaustion.

Imani quickly sat up straight. “What happened?” she said, shocked.

“Everything,” Virgil gasped in between puffs. “But more precisely, Chad.”

Envy looked around the dark and dirty street around him. A few shady people milled about the place as Envy looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. He entered into Killer Koffee warily and looked around at the black sofas with suspiciously red splatters. “Hello,” he greeted the grumpy barista. He pretended to squint at the menu as if he wasn’t already instructed on what drink to get. “I would like a mocha with whip cream, extra sugar, and hold the milk.”

The barista raised an eyebrow. “Who is it for?”

Envy smiled. “Phthonus.”

“Well then,” the barista said, “right this way, sir.” She led him into the back of the store, where only employees could enter. The employee led the villain into a broom closet and shut the door behind Envy, almost nipping his heels.

“Code word?” a man chirped in a dreadfully cheerful manner. Envy could almost see the spy’s glasses highlighted in the dark closet and shivered. People like the spy in front of him always intimidated him.

“Confucius,” Envy answered. “Now, what’s the info?”

Taglist:

@cyberpunkjinx

@jemthebookworm

@preyed-llama

@a-ghosts

@alicehatter529

#l and v sanders sides #analogical #superpowers #simu writing #soul mates #human!au #virgil sanders #logan sanders #cartoon therapy #sanders shorts #sanders sides #patton sanders #corbin cartoon therapy #envy sanders #tw fight #tw dread

52 notes · View notes

evilsnowswan · 5 years

Photo

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11][Chapter 12][Chapter 13][Chapter 14][Chapter 15][Chapter 16][Chapter 17]

Current Chapter: 18/? Chapter Summary: This one's of overprotective mermaids and blind airlings.

Chapter 18

“Just one more go.”

“No. That’s enough for today, Baelfire.” The boss lady was lounging on a towel near the usually empty lifeguard station, where Killian Jones was sitting in a tall chair that gave him a perfect view of more than just the action in the old show tank. As if to prove the point, Jones lowered his camera and glanced down at Mrs. Montgomery in her sleek black Speedo.

“Fine!” Bae hollered and dove for one last summersault.

From the deep end of the pool Ruby watched him get out of the water, dripping in his shark-print trunks as he headed for the showers. He rinsed quickly and then pulled off his swim cap, pulling and twisting it in his hands, and letting it snap loudly as he dragged his feet.

His mother was watching him like a hawk.

“Baelfire!” Her voice cut through the air like fins. The expensive kind on a custom-made board. “Leave it. You’ll wear it out. Come here!” She beckoned him over to the benches, indicating a folded towel beside her. “Quickly.”

She turned her head to look at Ruby. “Miss Lucas?!”

“My turn,” Ruby grinned at Indigo, who had just surfaced beside her, clutching one of the bright yellow toys. She beamed and handed it over. “You’re next. Today’s the day.”

Laughing at Indigo’s puzzled frown, Ruby gave back the toy, obediently kicked off, and crossed the pool in quick strokes to get within earshot of her boss, who, apparently, deemed it inappropriate to yell instructions at anyone but her son.

“Yes?”

“Please, Ruby dear, would you be so kind as to wrap this up?” She asked, making a sweeping gesture that encompassed the tank and most of the sitting area. “We’re running a little late for Baelfire’s lesson and our visitors will be here soon.” She glanced at Bae, who sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, looking down at the wet flip flops dangling from his feet. He swung his legs listlessly, partially losing one flip flop. It slid forward and hung from a couple of toes.

“Not my fault,” he mumbled into his towel, letting the dangling flip flop fall to the ground. Then he let the other one go.

Mrs. Montgomery cleared her throat.

“Sure thing,” Ruby said quickly. “No problem.” The boss lady had never called her ‘dear’ before and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Indigo’s staying?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Montgomery said slowly. “Yes, yes, I think that would be best. Would you–”

She didn’t get to finish her request. The sudden sound of heels on concrete had them both turn their heads. Mrs. Montgomery gasped. “Oh no.”

People were approaching, a woman and a man, David Nolan leading them straight to the benches. The woman was tall, even taller on her noisy heels, easily towering over the quickly-parting sea of white shirts and her black-clad companion. She was slim, but had a swimmer's back. Her kelly green dress and red hair stuck out like a sore thumb. Ruby smirked.

“Miss Lucas, keep the mermaid calm, will you?” With a hurried glance at her watch and a frazzled hand brushing her curls out of the way, Mrs. Montgomery stood, shrugging on a summer dress over her suit and slipping into black pumps that left her a few inches shorter than usual. She turned to Bae.

“Baelfire, please find your father and tell him he’s needed here asap.”

Bae looked at her, at the approaching newcomers, and back again. He cocked his head. “Why? Who’s–”

“Baelfire!”

“Oookay.” Bae rolled his eyes, but got up all the same. “Whatever you say, woman.”

Muttering, he kicked his flip flops ahead of him as he went. Ruby distinctly heard some of the Sailor-ese Bae’s father reserved for special occasions or very, very special people, and had to fight back a laugh.

Mrs. Montgomery must have heard it too, but chose to pretend she hadn’t.

“They are almost two hours early,” she hissed, tugging on her dress. “Now, seriously.” She bit her lip, then pulled her dress over her head and stepped back out of her shoes.

Ruby watched, bemused. The woman was wigging.

“You okay?” Jones made to leave his seat. “That them?”

Her face flushed, Mrs. Montgomery looked up at Jones, blinking against the sun. She shook her head, not gracing him with an answer to the obvious. She rummaged in her purse, withdrew a pocket mirror and lipstick, and carefully painted her lips her signature red.

“You meeting ‘em like that?” Back on the ground, Jones looked her over, his eyes lingering where they had no business being.

Mrs. Montgomery spun around to face him, turning her back on Ruby. Ruby didn’t have to see her face to know she was glaring. “Like what?”

Perhaps, it was natural, Ruby thought. Perfectly normal. Mrs. Montgomery was in good shape and the streamlined Speedo fit her like a glove, hugging her curves in all the right places. Eyes on the older woman’s butt for, maybe, half a beat too long, Ruby bit her tongue, her ears growing hot. Yep, perfectly fine.

Choosing to tune out the adults bickering, she took a deep breath and let herself sink to the bottom of the pool. She stayed there until her face no longer felt like it was melting off her bones, watching Indigo swim through Bae’s new underwater hoops, merrily entertaining herself.

When she came back up to draw a much-needed breath, Jones was gone and Mrs. Montgomery had moved away from the pool and the benches to greet the visitors. Ruby could see her talk animatedly and heard her laugh her professional laugh. Their early arrival may have forced the boss lady onto her back foot, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. No matter how tall or flashy the opponent, Milah Montgomery would defend her home range – even if that meant entering the arena barefoot, in nothing but swimming gear and lipstick.

The man, all dressed in dark and gloomy colors, hung back, his eyes darting back and forth, taking in his surroundings. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the women’s conversation and didn’t join, not even to exchange fake pleasantries. He reminded Ruby of a lone wolf, a scout, sent to see if the new area was safe for the pack, or to explore new hunting grounds and carry word back to his alpha.

When their eyes met, Ruby felt a jolt go right through her and her skin pebbled, despite the warm pool water. The man held her gaze until Ruby looked away. When she looked back up, he had momentarily vanished, only to reappear somewhere to her left, so close to the pool, it made her start.

“Hello,” he said, his husky voice low. It sounded more like a growl than a word. “And you are?” He asked, his head tilted to one side. He didn’t seem to have to blink a normal amount, fixing Ruby with unblinking eyes and pinning her to the spot. His left eye was bright blue, like ice, the right brown, almost amber.

“R-Ruby,” she stammered. “Ruby Lucas.”

“Ruby,” he repeated, rolling the ‘R’ on his tongue like a smooth pebble. “Hello, Ruby.”

He gave her the creeps. “Hi,” she breathed, her heart rate quickening; her heart drumming up a fast beat that rose within her and threatened to block her ears. Internally laughing at herself, she took a shaky breath and attempted a smile to dispel the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She had just opened her mouth to ask the stranger for his name, when, unexpectedly, Indigo popped up between them like a jack-in-the-box. She shoved Ruby behind her, hissing at the man showing her teeth, and raised her fin out of the water menacingly.

Whoa. What–?

Ruby wanted to reach for her, put a calming hand on her shoulder, but Indigo quickly pushed her a little further back with her tail, before raising her fin high again, swinging it from side to side like a cat.

The stranger withdrew, apprehensive, his piercing eyes solely trained on Indigo. Ruby half expected him to snarl back, to bark maybe, but he merely smiled as he retreated slowly, showing off very white, slightly pointy teeth.

Indigo let her fin hit the water with a deafening splash.

Hadn’t he jumped back, the water would have hit him. With a grimace, he tugged his shabby leather jacket tighter around him and took another step back. With one hand, he reached into his pocket – Ruby held her breath – and pulled out a packet of Pixy Stix. He fished for a grape flavored one, ripped it open, and, throwing his head back, tipped the contents into his mouth.

Ruby stared at him over Indigo’s shoulder. What the–?

“Humbert! What are you doing?! Come here.” The woman’s voice was sharp and, to Ruby’s bewildered astonishment, the man’s head snapped up and around at once, before he trotted back to his original spot, right behind the tall red-head. Like a trained lapdog, she had brought him to heel, just like that.

Ruby couldn’t stop staring.

She wanted to move closer, get out of the water and join the adults and their conversation, or listen in from a safe-enough distance, and find out what exactly was going on, but before she could put the thought into action, Indigo had taken her by the hand and dragged her halfway across the pool, to the little island made from rocks in the middle.

Undeterred by Ruby’s spluttered protests, Indigo gently nudged her, and pushed and shoved, until Ruby had climbed on the closest rock. There she sat, panting and confused, her feet dangling in the water.

What had gotten into Indigo?

Before she could do or say anything else, Indigo had begun examining her feet, her legs, then moved on to her hands and arms until her own hands came to rest on Ruby’s shoulders, causing Ruby to bend double and almost topple back into the water under the weight of the frantic mermaid. Indigo studied her face closely, touched her forehead to Ruby’s.

Ruby kept very still, letting Indigo do as she liked, hoping to calm her down that way.

Indigo let go and hit the water with a small splash. She went under, but resurfaced almost at once, her cheeks puffed out.

Before Ruby could wonder or ask, Indigo spit water in her face.

“Hey!” Ruby threw her arms up. “Okay, stop. Stop!”

The mermaid was bonkers.

“What has gotten into you, hmm?!” Ruby asked, running a hand over her face. “What was that for?” She put her hands on her hips. “And, are you done?”

Indigo looked up at her, her face still clouded with whatever was going on in her pretty head.

“You got a few… starfish… loose in the top… reef,” Ruby snorted, giggles bubbling up deep in her throat and spilling from her mouth. “You know that? My, my.” She kept laughing, watching Indigo’s frown slowly morph into a smile and finally end in silent laughter. “He wasn’t that much of a creep, honestly. Just spooky eyes, that’s all.”

***

Jumper Girl was alright. Belle blew out a breath, her heart gradually slowing to a more relaxed pace. The… thing hadn’t gotten her.

Belle threw a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes zooming in on the dark being that stood with the airling women. It looked like an airling, but didn’t smell like one, and, whatever it was, it was dangerous, and Belle didn’t like it. She didn’t like it one bit.

Thankfully, her little airling friend had already fled and was nowhere to be seen. That only left the airling women in danger. One of them, Belle didn’t know, and the other – yes, she had learnt by now – was her little friend’s mother; and she tolerated her presence for that very reason, but Belle hadn’t forgotten it had been she, who had held her down while the other male had attacked. Belle was living proof that children could grow up without their mothers and be just fine. He would still have his father and that was more than enough.

The predator did not attack. Perhaps, Belle mused, he could not swim, or simply wasn’t hungry. She kept him in sight at all times though, just to be safe. Keeping an eye on the predator also meant she no longer had time for their diving game, but since the little airling did not return and Jumper Girl seemed done playing as well, that wasn’t a problem.

She would watch the predator all day and all night, if she had to. He would grow tired, or bored, or return to where he had come from, eventually. Until then, he could not be left unsupervised.

He mostly kept to the strange airling woman with fiery hair like an odd pilot fish. As far as Belle could see, he did not, however, eat nasty parasites on his host, or small leftovers of her food. His food source seemed to come from somewhere inside his… skin.

He was a weird creature – not merling, not airling – some form of ‘other’ Belle hadn’t yet encountered, and she wondered, why he didn’t make the airling women nowhere as uneasy as he did her. Hadn’t her father once told her that airling senses were dulled from living above water for so long? That had to be it. They simply could not sense the danger. Belle almost pitied them. Almost. But the pilot predator didn’t seem interested in hurting them – not at the moment, anyway. He just followed them around, occasionally strayed to explore his surroundings, then returned to his host.

Belle, on her part, stuck to Jumper Girl like a merling-shaped sucker cluster. While in the water, she became her shadow, drifting right along, and, if on land, she always kept a close eye on her, hissing a low warning whenever the predator crept too close for her liking.

She preferred Jumper Girl safely in the water with her, where, if push came to splash, she could protect her; which was why she didn’t mind the silly game her friend wanted to play next.

Jumper Girl had brought odd yellow seaweed string in some sort of shell into the water with her. She pulled it out next to Belle’s arms and tail, along her fin, and wrapped it once around her middle and her tail – as if to measure her – then let the seaweed roll back into its shell like a mussel’s feeler. It tickled her skin, and Belle bit her lip not to laugh.

Perhaps, the objective of the game was indeed measuring her, since Jumper Girl kept shouting short bits at the mother airling, who jotted something, most likely the shouted information, down with a color on a small rectangle. Belle didn’t mind. She couldn’t see how her measurements could do any harm in the hands of the airling mother.

She was far more concerned about their unbidden guests – the fire-haired airling and her companion who kept watching their game with great interest – and had already put the measuring game from her mind, when the little airling and his father reappeared and the unknown airling and her predator finally left a short while later.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #mermaid!belle #ouat fanfiction #rumbelle au #my fic #fic: indigo

10 notes · View notes

orbemnews · 3 years

Link

74 of Our Favourite Information for 2020 Every day, our editors acquire probably the most attention-grabbing, putting or pleasant information to look in articles all through the paper. Listed below are 74 from the previous 12 months that have been probably the most revealing. By Instances Insider Employees Illustrations by Clay Hickson Dec. 30, 2020 January 1. Japan’s authorized system has a 99 % conviction fee.Carlos Ghosn, at Dwelling however Ready for the Subsequent Transfer 2. Fishing stays the US’ second most harmful career, after logging.Overtaken by Frigid Seas, Hours From Assist, There Was Little Likelihood of Survival 3. McSorley’s Outdated Ale Home, established in 1854 within the East Village, served beer to Abraham Lincoln and John Lennon.After 190 Years, the ‘Most Well-known Bar You’ve By no means Heard of’ Avoids Final Name 4. The Lehigh Valley in Jap Pennsylvania is inside an eight-hour drive of one-third of American shoppers.What the Rebirth of This Outdated Metal Middle Means for Trump 8. In Thailand, the navy has staged 18 coups for the reason that finish of absolutely the monarchy in 1932.Thai Soldier in Mass Taking pictures Had Enterprise Conflict With His Commander 9. About 95 % of Egypt’s inhabitants lives on about 4 % of the land, a inexperienced belt roughly half the dimensions of Eire that follows the Nile because it snakes via the desert, then followers out into the Nile Delta.As Egypt’s Inhabitants Hits 100 Million, Celebration Is Muted 10. Twice a day, the low tide of the River Thames drops the water stage in some areas by as a lot as 20 toes.Mudlarks Scour the Thames to Uncover 2,000 Years of Secrets and techniques 11. Within the Sixties, concertgoers on the rock promoter Invoice Graham’s Fillmore theaters in New York and San Francisco have been greeted with barrels providing free apples.In Trippy Instances, Invoice Graham Took Care of Actuality 12. For many years after the start of contemporary pictures in 1839, one of the vital widespread makes use of of the know-how was a professionally shot {photograph} of a lifeless member of the family.The iPhone on the Deathbed 13. The Scott Paper Firm was the primary firm to introduce bathroom paper with cardboard rolls, again in 1890.My Tireless Quest for a Tubeless Wipe 14. Fearing they might face a scarcity of wooden for coffins after the primary aerial assault on London in World Struggle II, officers within the British Dwelling Workplace believed they must bury hundreds of individuals in cardboard and even papier-mâché.How Churchill Introduced Britain Again From the Brink 15. In accordance with a 2008 examine by the US Institute of Peace, almost 90 % of ladies in Afghanistan will expertise some type of home abuse of their lifetime.They Killed Their Husbands. Now in Jail, They Really feel Free. March 16. At one live performance in Vienna in 1808, his final public look as a pianist, Beethoven unveiled the Fifth Symphony, the “Pastoral” Sixth, the Fourth Piano Concerto and “Choral Fantasy.”Evaluation: Beethoven’s Greatest Live performance, Now With Warmth 17. One examine, printed in Nature Local weather Change in March, discovered that greater than half of the world’s sandy seashores might disappear by the tip of this century.The Authentic Lengthy Islanders Battle to Save Their Land From a Rising Sea 18. Within the 24 years since they appeared collectively in “How you can Reach Enterprise With out Actually Attempting,” Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick bought engaged, married and had three youngsters, however didn’t act collectively.Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker Spend the Evening Collectively 19. The summit of Mount is Everest is in regards to the measurement of two Ping-Pong tables.After Lethal Jam on Everest, Nepal Delays New Security Guidelines 25. Some 42 % of American adults — almost 80 million folks — dwell with weight problems.Weight problems Linked to Extreme Coronavirus Illness, Particularly for Youthful Sufferers 26. King Saud, Saudi Arabia’s second king, fathered 53 sons and 57 daughters with quite a few wives and concubines.After a Yr of Silence, a Jailed Saudi Princess Appeals for Assist 27. Earlier than the Industrial Revolution, the principal sources of noise have been thunder, church bells and cannon hearth.Loud, Louder, Loudest: How Classical Music Began to Roar 28. Off the coast of the Bronx, Hart Island, now house to a cemetery for the homeless and for unidentified our bodies, was as soon as the location of metropolis jails, a Civil Struggle jail camp and an insane asylum for girls.How Covid-19 Has Pressured Us to Have a look at the Unthinkable 29. Rats should gnaw, and consistently, as a result of their sharp, onerous incisors develop constantly all through their lives — round 4 or 5 inches a 12 months.Oh, Rats! Lastly Shifting Your Automotive? You Could Get a Shock. 30. George Washington survived smallpox, malaria (six occasions), diphtheria, tuberculosis (twice) and pneumonia.What the Historical past Books Received’t Inform You About George Washington Could 31. In the event that they have been a rustic, cows would rank because the world’s sixth-largest emitter of methane fuel, forward of Brazil, Japan and Germany.The Enterprise of Burps: Scientists Odor Revenue in Cow Emissions 32. Disney’s eight film studios managed 40 % of the home field workplace in 2018.For Walt Disney Co., a Stricken Empire 33. In Could, Elon Musk and his girlfriend, Claire Boucher, the musician generally known as Grimes, had a toddler and named him X Æ A-12.Tesla House owners Attempt to Make Sense of Elon Musk’s ‘Pink Capsule’ Second 34. Richard Scherrer, the engineer listed first on the patent for Lockheed’s F-117 stealth plane, had moonlighted within the Fifties to design a few of the rides at Disneyland, together with Dumbo the Flying Elephant.Taking a look at Struggle Throughout 2,500 Years 35. Fungi might be educated to eat cigarette butts, used diapers, oil spills and even radiation.Whether or not You’re Making a Meal or Cleansing an Oil Spill, There’s a Fungus for That 36. In March, because the coronavirus pandemic intensified, People purchased two million weapons, the busiest month for gross sales since January 2013.Father of College Taking pictures Sufferer Takes On Smith & Wesson June 37. There could also be trillions of species of virus on the earth. Of them, just a few hundred thousand sorts are identified, and fewer than 7,000 have names.Monster or Machine? A Profile of the Coronavirus at 6 Months 38. Brooks Brothers, which Henry Sands Brooks based in Manhattan in 1818, is the oldest attire model in steady operation in the US.Brooks Bros., ‘Made in America’ Since 1818, Could Quickly Want a New Calling Card 39. Black girls, on common, earn 64 cents for each greenback a white man earns, based on analysis from the Financial Coverage Institute.The Stark Racial Inequity of Private Funds in America 40. A examine on voting habits by the economist Enrico Cantoni discovered {that a} quarter-mile enhance in distance from a polling sales space lowered voting by 2 to five %.For Racial Justice, Workers Want Paid Hours Off for Voting 41. “Gone With the Wind” continues to be the highest-grossing movie of all time, adjusted for inflation.The Lengthy Battle Over ‘Gone With the Wind’ 42. Over the previous 5 years in Minneapolis, the police have used drive in opposition to Black folks at seven occasions the speed it has been used in opposition to white folks.Policing in America Is Damaged and Should Change. However How? 43. Solely a sure peanut bred for the correct measurement and the look of its shell makes the minimize for the ballpark commerce. It’s known as the Virginia, grown in that state but in addition within the Carolinas, Texas and, to a lesser diploma, New Mexico.Ballpark Peanuts, a Traditional Summer time Pleasure, Have Been Benched July 44. Ghulam Sarwar Khan, the Pakistani aviation minister, instructed Parliament in June that of round 860 pilots working for Pakistani air carriers, 260 had fraudulent licenses.Suspension From European Airspace Is Newest Blow to Pakistan’s Troubled Airline 45. The phrase “homosexuality” was coined by the Austro-Hungarian author Karl-Maria Kertbeny in 1869.Neglected No Extra: Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, Pioneering Homosexual Activist 46. “Courageous New World,” Aldous Huxley’s 1932 science fiction novel, is ready in a future with chemical contraception, temper stabilizers, genetic engineering, videoconferencing and tv.‘Courageous New World’ Arrives within the Future It Predicted 47. We breathe roughly 25,000 occasions a day.Breathe Higher With These 9 Workouts 48. The self-storage trade bought its begin within the Sixties, when swelling consumerism led People to purchase extra stuff than that they had room for.People Hunker Down, Threatening the Self-Storage Business 49. At 17, Lucille Ball left her upstate New York highschool for Broadway, solely to be instructed: “You simply don’t have it. Why don’t you go house?”The ‘Wildcat’ Episode, or, Did Broadway Love Lucy? 50. Bayes’s theorem is a tool for rationally updating your prior beliefs and uncertainties based mostly on noticed proof.How you can Assume Like an Epidemiologist August 51. After getting swallowed by a frog, the beetle Regimbartia attenuata can scuttle down the amphibian’s intestine and drive it to poop, rising dirty however alive.There Are Two Methods Out of a Frog. This Beetle Selected the Again Door. 52. Penicillin, which was found in 1928, would have vanquished the pneumonia that killed many individuals through the 1918 influenza pandemic.In N.Y.C.’s Coronavirus Surge, a Horrifying Echo of the 1918 Flu 53. The fist bump was apparently popularized by Fred Carter, a high-energy N.B.A. participant of the Nineteen Seventies.Will We Ever Contact (Professionally) Once more? September 54. Earlier than taking what would turn into a well-known {photograph} of Florence Owens Thompson generally known as “Migrant Mom” in 1936, Dorothea Lange drove 20 miles previous the camp the place Ms. Thompson was staying earlier than deciding to show round.America at Starvation’s Edge 55. The seashores of Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago, are coated with “blubberstones” — gravel mingled with rendered fats, vestiges of the mass killings of seals and whales.Grief and Geology Each Take Time in ‘The Ebook of Unconformities’ 56. Martha Stewart, who has a line of CBD merchandise, together with pâte de fruit, was launched to the palliative results of hashish by Snoop Dogg, a pal, at Comedy Central’s 2015 “Roast of Justin Bieber.”Martha Stewart, Blissed Out on CBD, Rides Out the Pandemic 57. In the US, jail life sentences have quadrupled for the reason that Nineteen Eighties.Making Artwork When ‘Lockdown’ Means Jail 68. Sports activities groups first visited the White Home in 1865, when President Andrew Johnson welcomed baseball’s Washington Nationals and Brooklyn Atlantics.Even With a New President, Sports activities on the White Home Received’t Be the Similar 69. As soon as uncommon off Southern California seashores, nice white sharks are starting to indicate up extra typically. The newcomers are principally juvenile sharks, which favor the nice and cozy waters nearer to shore.When Sharks Turned Up at Their Seaside, They Referred to as in Drones December 70. Many tales have been instructed over time in regards to the inspiration for the music “Lola” by the Kinks. The group’s singer, Ray Davies, stated it got here from an encounter on the Castille Membership, a Paris nightspot the group frequented.Ray Davies on 50 Years of ‘Lola’ 71. Underground, bushes and fungi kind partnerships generally known as mycorrhizas: Threadlike fungi envelop and fuse with tree roots, serving to them extract water and vitamins in alternate for a few of the carbon-rich sugars the bushes make via photosynthesis.The Social Lifetime of Forests 72. The Olympic observe star Rafer Johnson was a daily in Robert F. Kennedy’s presidential marketing campaign entourage in 1968. Johnson helped to deal with Sirhan Sirhan after the murderer shot Kennedy on the Ambassador Lodge in Los Angeles.Remembering Rafer Johnson in a Lengthy Yr of Misplaced Sports activities Legends Supply hyperlink #Facts #favorite

0 notes

fanfictionconnectionwordpress · 7 years

Text

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | JuminxMC Good Ending Continued | Ch. 3 Mother's Business

***Don’t forget to subscribe to the email list for access to R-Rated Scenes and my monthly newsletter. You can support my writing on patreon and get access to my VIP Discord Server or other goodies like early chapter releases and hidden scenes. JuminxMC Good Ending Continued Chapter Directory ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

Jumin had invited me over to his penthouse to decorate and have dinner, with only a week and a half until our wedding, it felt like we needed some time to just be together, especially with all of the stress. I had arrived before him and gotten started looking around. Of course, a professional interior designer had been the one to decorate his home before, and there weren't really any true touches of himself. He'd explained that everything had been chosen to give a calm atmosphere and prevent depression, but seeing how empty and cold it was of personal touches made me feel as though it served its purpose, sure, but it wasn't making true impact on having a home.

The door opened and I nearly wanted to run into his arms as I saw my handsome gentleman walk through the door, but restrained myself so as not to startle him, going to greet him with a huge smile. Jumin had flinched once when I went to hug him before he’d accepted it, apologizing and saying it was something about a memory that he didn’t wish to discuss. I just tried to focus on making sure I didn’t remind him of that again. "Welcome home, honey bunny."

The smile that greeted me in response warmed my heart tremendously as he bent to press a kiss to my lips, making it last before pulling away. "I can't wait to have you greet me like that every day. All the stress of my day has melted away in a matter of seconds."

His stress relief would only last a few short moments before his phone went off. Jumin at first pulled it from his pocket, I suspected fully intending to hang up, but then he seemed to recognize the number, a look of shock on his face as he paused. He was just staring at the phone, his gray eyes wide. If it was important, he needed to pick up before they hung up. "Jumin, answer it. It's okay."

By the look on his face, it wasn't exactly okay. I felt anxious. Why would the caller ID be disturbing him this much? I had seen him sigh and ignore a call, even from work, stating that if it was so important they would email him and he could deal with it that way, but I had never seen him behave like this. It was unsettling to say the least.

What was even more unsettling, Jumin picked up, slowly bringing the phone to his ear as his other hand went to undo his tie ever so slightly. "Hello, mother. To what do I owe this phone call?" His mother? Did he mean his stepmother or? "It's been two years since you last spoke to me, I hardly think that's your place to give me or my future wife advice."

The woman who hadn't spoken to him in years. His birth mother. Why was she calling? Of course, she had been sent an invitation to our wedding, and that was the only thing I could think of. Maybe it was something innocuous like trying to butt in on the wedding planning? I had to hope that it wasn't anything further than that.

Jumin turned, looking right into my eyes for a moment before his gaze flicked away again, Elizabeth the 3rd walking up to him and rubbing against his pant leg, walking between and around his legs repetitively. This seemed to give him some comfort, and I blew him a kiss before he was replying to something else his mother was saying. "I would rather you didn't speak to her directly. It's not your place. If you have something to say to her you can do it through me."

Now he seemed to be getting angry. His eyes had gone darker, a stern look on his face as he set his jaw, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. He really was a beautiful man, but that wasn't a luxury I had to enjoy at the moment because I was so worried about what was going on.

He valued family and tradition; it was a part of who he was, but his mother had been living abroad for years, and it was no secret to me that she didn't talk to her only son. Still, as much as he was right that she had virtually abandoned him and had no right to step into his life as she pleased, Jumin wasn't one to deny social courtesy. It seemed like whatever his mother wanted, she wasn't backing down. "As you wish, but keep it under a half hour. I will hang up for her after that time." He was making a decision for me again, but this wasn't one I was at all in opposition of. Jumin held out his phone towards me, a sigh escaping him before he met my eyes. "My mother wants to speak with my future wife."

My legs were shaky as I stepped forward towards him again, he had moved away from me as he took the call, but now I was standing right by him, pausing like he had before picking up the phone at his nod to me. As I put the phone to my ear, Jumin pulled me into his arms, his warmth spreading through me when I hadn't even realized I was cold. "Um...hello?"

"So why are you marrying Jumin?" Wow...her voice sounded so...clinical. She didn't even refer to Jumin as her son, just Jumin. I furrowed my brows as Jumin tightened his arms around me. "Well, because I love him." The woman on the other end of the line started to laugh, this high-pitched sound almost like a cackle.

What was with her? It was starting to irritate me even with Elizabeth the 3rd rubbing at our legs and Jumin softly rubbing my back. He was surprisingly clingy, that was something I'd learned early on, because he just wanted to be loved and on his own terms. It was very rare for me to touch him first because of how he would sometimes flinch, but if he was initiating contact, he was all over me.

Once she was done with her cackling, I'd rather she'd kept laughing for a half hour. "I thought I loved his father too, but you get tired of him never coming home on time. All the extravagant gifts and parties, they're wonderful, but when you're stuck at home with nothing to do, a maid cleaning everything, a cook making the food, you'll fall out of love too. Here’s the tip for which I’ll be wanting a cut. That's when you need to get pregnant, that will secure your alimony."

Before she’d said that last bit, on some level, I felt a little bit of sympathy. This woman had been stifled, shut up at home with nothing to do while her husband put work first. I had gotten a taste of that in my days staying with Jumin before the party. Still....I accepted his work as a part of him, and if she had truly been meant for and loved his father, she would have too or at least tried to solve the problem in a different way.

I stiffened, somewhat worried about the way I was about to respond, none too nicely. Jumin stopped rubbing my back, pulling back just a little to look down at me with concern at the change in my body language. Our eyes met just as I responded. "I'm not going to get pregnant to trap him. Our children will come out of love." The look on Jumin's face changed quickly.

There was just a flash of anger and sadness as he understood what his mother had been trying to suggest, what that meant for his birth. Not that Jumin had thought his mother loved him, but it was still a shock to realize that he truly had been a business choice. Still, his face changed again to one of affection as his hand ended up at my chin. I let him take the phone away with his other hand, hanging it up and tossing it onto the couch before bending to kiss me.

Jumin was slow, his hand finding the small of my back to press my body closer as my heart raced in my chest. The phone was going off again, probably his mother angry that she hadn't gotten her full half hour. When Jumin abruptly broke away from me, his gray eyes almost a dark obsidian, I thought he was going to answer it, but instead he just stepped away from me and adjusted his cuff links. "My apologies, my love, but I need to stop before I go too far."

We hadn't even talked about children, but I certainly hadn't expected that reaction. A flush filled my face thinking about what he meant about going too far. Jumin was mostly a nominal Christian, he didn't actively attend church. It was more of a tradition choice, but because of his love for tradition, we were going to wait until marriage.

"I'm sorry...about your mother." I felt like it needed to be said and Jumin gave me a small smile. "It's alright. It's better than dealing with my father's current wife." I blinked at the way his words turned sour. Was that just because of how much he hated his father's womanizing or for a more sinister reason? If he were talking to anyone else, no emotion would have dipped into that sentence at all.

I decided that it wasn't the time to bring it up. There was so much going on with the wedding only a week and a half away. No one could even get a hold of V and Seven was acting strange and depressed again. Yoosung was particularly worried. Hopefully we would be able to find V before the wedding, but until then, we were moving forward, our happiness together within reach. Even this added stress of his mother’s desires wasn’t going to ruin our wedding. We were meant to be together, and Jumin needed me by his side.

Like this? Want more? Become a Patron. ~Let’s Connect! FFC

Check out my other fanfictions.

#jumin han #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #juminxmc #fanfictionc connection

8 notes · View notes